#side effect of finishing an entire book about these two....

[pumaskulls]

they are pair bonded,,,,,cannot be separated,,,, @fayooweh

(and you can request which OCs of mine i doodle for pride month next here!)

[cutielando]

celebrations are in order | m.v.

social media au

synopsis: in which you make the most of his third wdc

my masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 3,291,483 others

yourusername feels so good being back at the paddock tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 857,313 comments

maxverstappen1 out of all the pictures you took of me...

yourusername i love these

maxverstappen1 of course you do

redbullracing Glad to have you back, Y/N!

francisca.cgomes MY WIFE BACK IN THE PADDOCK ❤️❤️

yourusername i missed you sooooooo much !!! ❤️❤️

lilymhe GIRL LUNCH !!!!!!

user1 THE PEOPLE'S WAG IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK

user2 all is well when Y/N is in the garage😩😩

alex_albon max will finally be in a good mood

maxverstappen1 i can read these, you know

yourusername that's why i'm here. we're all tired of moody max😔

maxverstappen1 I CAN READ THESE

user3 our good luck charm has arrived ❤️❤️

user4 like he needs a good luck charm to dominate the entire grid🥲

landonorris what took you so long?

yourusername some people have a life, you know?

landonorris not when you're involved in f1 they don't

yourusername you're lucky i like you, otherwise you would have received a rant 😠

maxverstappen1 i've received one. trust me mate, you don't want to be on the receiving end

yourbff still sad you didn't take me with you 😔

yourusername you are literally on the other side of the globe⁉️

yourbff i don't see your point

yourusername maxverstappen1 help me out here

maxverstappen1 i'm not getting between you two again

user5 Y/N, do you think Max will win the championship after this race?

yourusername i am keeping my fingers crossed, he has had an incredible season and i think he's going to do everything in his power to end it on a high🫶🏻

user4 so well said

user6 Y/N being there for his Championship title win >>>>

user7 i want a relationship like theirs:(((((

user8 if they ever break up, i'm going to stop believing in love😭

charles_leclerc it's nice to have you back, y/n. haven't seen you in a while

yourusername it feels so good to be back. life has been kicking my ass but I'M BACK BITCHES

carlossainz55 FORZA FERRARI

yourusername wow, too much dude...

charles_leclerc ...

maxverstappen1 ...

carlossainz55 ...sorry...

victoriaverstappen i've missed you so much!!!! so glad to have you back, the boys are excited to see auntie Y/N!!❤️❤️❤️

yourusername i can't wait to see my favorite little munchkins ❤️❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 what about me?

yourusername i’m sorry, babe. you can’t compete with lio and luka for this one

victoriaverstappen you could never compete with them

maxverstappen1 wow, betrayed by my own blood..

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 5,391,584 others

maxverstappen1 I cannot thank everyone enough. Being on this journey, achieving what we have achieved together this season has been incredible. A massive thank you to the team and for everything they do for us, a shoutout to my family for always supporting me and a special thanks to my Y/N. I couldn't have done any of this without you, I love you.❤️ tagged: redbullracing and yourusername

view all 958,251 comments

yourusername watching you race and do what you love is my favorite thing. i'm proud of you beyond words and i can't wait to see what you do in the future. i love you so much❤️🫶🏻

maxverstappen1 thank you for being you🩵

redbullracing You are one of a kind, Max. Seeing you go down in history books right before our eyes is the biggest privilege. Let's finish the season on a high together and look forward to next year!💙 liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername

landonorris well done, mate. the y/n effect was obvious

maxverstappen1 thanks mate

yourusername you're just jealous i didn't cheer you on as loudly

landonorris i'm deeply hurt, actually

maxverstappen1 dude, get your own cheerleader and stop trying to steal mine

yourusername boys, don’t worry, you know i support everyone almost equally

landonorris almost?

yourusername i’ll always be a redbull girlie at heart

schecoperez let's go!!! liked by maxverstappen1

user1 he did it for Y/N i'm sobbing😭😭😭

user2 UNSTOPPABLE MAX STRIKES ONCE AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻👏👏👏👏🩵

user3 the tribute to Y/N had me in tears >>>>>>>>>>>

user4 they are such a power couple😩😩😩💙

user5 the season was boring, max is taking all the fun out of the sport by winning all the damn time💀

yourusername he deserves every single win that he gets, he's good. if you believe the sport is boring, don't watch it. stop hating on drivers just because they are successful, you have no idea what it's like to be in their shoes

user2 PERIOD👏👏👏

user1 QUEEN ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS👸🫶🏻

user3 YOU TELL THEM Y/N

victoriaverstappen we're so proud of you, Max. you're truly one of a kind🩵

maxverstappen1 i love you guys❤️

yourusername you guys are making me cry😭😭

maxverstappen1 baby, you literally just stopped crying a minute ago

yourusername I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY⁉️⁉️

alex_albon max once again making all of us look bad

maxverstappen1 i’m sorry man

yourusername you don’t need his help for that

alex_albon ouch

user9 BABABAHAHQHQHQHQ Y/N WAS SUCH A SAVAGE FOR THIS HAHAHAHA

georgerussell63 party tonight?

maxverstappen1 you know it

yourusername brave yourselves

christianhorner always a pleasure watching you work your magic, Max 👏

maxverstappen1 thank you, christian. your support means very much to me

yourusername awww, you’re like father and son🥹🥹

christianhorner we might as well just adopt him

gerihalliwellhorner 2 kids isn’t enough for you?

christianhorner no

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 3,194,853 others

yourusername words cannot begin to describe the pride i feel when i look at this man. Max, the things you have achieved have completely made me fall in love with you all over again. your dedication, your talent and your craft are a delight to experience and i can't be more grateful to be the one you share life with. i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for you, and know that i'll be with you every single step of the way. i love you, my world champion❤️ tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 763,192 comments

maxverstappen1 forever grateful that you exist in my life❤️i don’t know what i did to deserve you

yourusername you’re gonna make me cry again😭❤️

maxverstappen1 please don’t

yourusername too late

francisca.cgomes i have never seen you cry so much, it made me cry with you 😭😭😭❤️

yourusername i love you ❤️❤️😭😭

pierregasly what..?

maxverstappen1 don’t even ask

yourusername YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND 😭

francisca.cgomes DON’T JUDGE US 😭😭😭😭

yoursister the entire family is sending Max the biggest congratulations !!! we can’t wait to see both of you to celebrate properly ❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️we miss you guys

maxverstappen1 thank you very much !!! looking forward to celebrating with the in-laws ❤️

landonorris when did you become the simp in the relationship?

yourusername don’t you have better things to do?

landonorris not really

maxverstappen1 you should get a hobby

landonorris annoying your girlfriend is my favorite hobby🤭🤭

oscarpiastri do i have to come to the party? 🫣

yourusername yes

maxverstappen1 only if you want to, we’re getting shitfaced either way

oscarpiastri so i can not come? 🥹

yourusername you’re coming, end of story.

user1 Y/N dragging Oscar to Max’s party is the most Y/N thing ever 😂😂

user2 poor Oscar must be regretting his life choices right about now 💀

oscarpiastri i am (please send help)

user1 BABAHQHQH OSCAH😭😭

user3 you can tell how much she loves him 😭❤️❤️

user4 i’m 100% positive Max couldn’t have achieved all of this without Y/N

user5 why? she didn’t do anything to help him at all

user4 it’s not all about performance on the track, a lot of factors go into it. she’s been supporting him for a very long time and that means a lot for someone with a lifestyle like his

user3 exactly, every driver needs someone to help them disconnect from the chaos that follows them all year round during the season

alex_albon you’re such a simp

georgerussell63 simp

charles_leclerc simp

landonorris simp

oacarpiastri simp

maxfewtrell simp

yourusername MAX????

maxverstappen1 …

yourbff your boyfriend is a beast

yourusername i know 🤭 that he is, in more ways than one

maxverstappen1 you know it 😏😋

yourbff HORNY ASSES

lilymhe can’t wait to get drunk and celebrate tonight!!

yourusername you and me both girl 😅

maxverstappen1 me three

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 3,201,835 others

maxverstappen1 safe to say i remember nothing from last night tagged: yourusername and 9 others

view all 854,281 comments

yourusername it might be for the best

maxverstappen1 was i that bad?

yourusername no... 🤐

landonorris damn right you don't

maxverstappen1 what is that supposed to mean?

landonorris you downed a whole bottle of tequila in less than half an hour. by yourself.

yourusername while taking sips from my drink as well

maxverstappen1 i was thirsty, ok?

oscarpiastri i am never drinking with you again😩

maxverstappen1 what did i do?

yourusername you wanted to undress him in front of the whole club and have him play limbo with you naked

oscarpiastri you didn't have to give the details...

maxverstappen1 i would've loved to see it either way

yourusername MAX!! LEAVE OSCAR ALONE

maxverstappen1 fine...😔

oscarpiastri thank you Y/N😅

georgerussell63 my liver hates you right now

maxverstappen1 don't blame me, it's not like i poured alcohol down your throat

yourusername you did

maxverstappen1 oh..

user1 these comments are just confirming what a party animal Max is and i'm here for it 🤣🤣

user2 y/n sounds so done hahahah😭😭

alex_albon i have no words left

maxverstappen1 i'm sorry for whatever i have done to you

alex_albon we vowed never to speak of it

yourusername this discussion is over

redbullracing sigh... giving us a run for our money, aren't you? 😆

maxverstappen1 i like keeping you guys entertained

redbullracing very kind of you. don't do it again 😐

user3 did y/n not drink?

yourusername i did, but i was relatively sober so i could keep an eye on everyone haha

yourusername i love you <3 even when you're drunk and unhinged

maxverstappen1 i love you too, thank you for taking care of me ❤️

user4 y/n taking care of max >>>>>>>>

user5 i love them. 😭😭😭❤️

charles_leclerc great singing on your part

yourusername i thought we agreed we weren't gonna mention the singing...

maxverstappen1 I SANG????????????

charles_leclerc oh yes, very loudly so

maxverstappen1 yourusername never let me drink again

yourusername i couldn't stop you if i wanted to

maxverstappen1 damn.. wild night, hehe

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 5] Food Difficulties

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: Puking

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna is practically forcing food down your throat, ensuring that you’re eating and keeping his baby healthy. He’s convinced that you’re expecting twins, but he’s not going to get his hopes up in case that you aren’t. It has to be twins though, the amount of cursed energy that your body transmits is too much for just one baby.

“The food is good, is it not? Finish it.” Sukuna urges you, but you can’t stomach the entire meal. You’re nauseous, the mere smell of the food makes you want to puke. You’ve gotten overly sensitive the past few weeks, eating has become one of the hardest tasks for you.

Sukuna has gone from ignoring you, to coddling you in his own weird way. He’ll get you almost anything you’d like, but he makes sure he’s mean to you when he does it. He won’t show you a weaker side of him– At least that’s what he considers kindness, the weaker side of humans. 

“I’m full.” You tell him, but he’s having none of it. He won’t let you leave the room until you eat every last drop of food that’s on your plate. He’s ensuring that you’re growing healthy babies, and that can’t happen if your belly isn’t full of food.

“You have to eat.” He insists, and you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. You can’t even bring yourself to swallow the food that you chew, you want to throw it all up. He sees you gagging, about to puke all the food that he’s forced you to eat. The food can’t be that bad, could it?

He brings the bowl up to his nose, trying to figure out if something is wrong with the meal. Sure, he tasted it to make sure everything was okay with it, but he held his nose to not taste it. Sukuna can’t stand many things, human food being at the top of his list. He can’t stand the taste, the texture, or even the mere smell of it.

He can’t force you to eat the foods he enjoys, so he guesses he’ll put himself through this pain to get you to finish your meal. He takes a mouthful of the food, and forces himself to chew. He gags as he tastes it. He can’t blame you for not wanting to eat it.

“It should be up to your standards.” Sukuna spits out the food onto the floor, not having the will to swallow it. “You have to make a healthy, strong child.”

“If I continue to eat, I’ll throw it all back up.” You warn him, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. He’ll choose his battles wisely. Uraume told him to be more gentle with you and to listen to you more… He guesses he’ll take their advice. 

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He finally puts down the utensils, and you let out a sigh of relief. You push the plate of food away from you so the smell doesn’t hit your nostrils. You’re more sensitive than you expected. You’ve dealt with pregnant women before, and you knew that they would get nauseous around certain foods, but never quite like this. Perhaps you’re a special case, which wouldn’t be shocking since Sukuna is everything but normal.

“What do you want to do then?” Sukuna crosses his arms, staring you down. The stare that once made a chill run down your spine, no longer has much of an effect on you. It’s been two weeks since you found out that you’re expecting, and you’ve found out that Sukuna won’t dare to lay a finger on you unless it’s to make your life easier.

“I’ve been reading a book.” You tell him, and he raises his brows. What is that supposed to tell him? It seems that forcing you how to read and write has proven to be useful. It entertains you and Sukuna isn’t forced to do some mundane task in order to keep an eye on you. Sure, he misses action and adrenaline from doing his own vile activities, but in your state, he doubts you can handle watching it.

“So what? Are you staying inside and doing that?” He asks, and you nod in response. He almost scolds you, he wants to hear you use your voice, but he decides against it. You do whatever the fuck you want to do, who is he to say otherwise? Your dumb husband. Sukuna will let you do whatever you want, and treat you higher than himself for as long as you carry his heir.

“I can read out loud so you’re not bored.” You say, and he glares at you. You must be trying to make a fool out of him or something. He keeps repeating in his mind that he won’t yell at you. You’re expecting, he won’t distress you.

“You barely know how to read, keep it to yourself.” He snarks, and you hate to admit it but the comment hurts your feelings. You’re used to his attitude, but your kindness being used to mock you hurts. Perhaps you’re a little sensitive, especially since you know Sukuna– He treats you like a fragile petal, a treatment no one else will ever receive from him.

“I wouldn’t like to read to a grump anyway.” You retort, standing up to walk away but Sukuna grabs you and puts you down on his lap. He stares down at you, pure annoyance in his eyes.

“What did I teach you?” Sukuna snarls, and you purse your lips together. You’ve been getting away with a lot, so it shocks you that he reprimands you for something so simple… Perhaps it’s your insult that’s sent him over the edge. 

“I follow you after you leave the table, not the other way around.” You murmur, and you hear him scoff. Your response is correct, your delivery doesn’t delight him though. 

“You’ve gotten bratty.” He points out, and in response you dare to roll your eyes. You know you hold something massive over his head, therefore he won’t do anything to you no matter your reaction. He lets go of you, nearly pushing you off his lap, “Go away and read your dumb book. I’ll join you soon.”

“Just stay here, what are you going to do there?” You ask, standing up once again to walk away. Sukuna doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to. Sure, you’re his wife but he made it clear that you wouldn’t have any sort of control over him. It was something to make you fulfill your duty. 

He hears your footsteps as you exit the room, leaving him alone to sink into his annoyance. Annoyance that a group of people will pay for later. Because his feelings don’t just disappear when he’s by your side, he’s still temperamental; the only change is that you don’t pay for your actions, someone else does.

Sukuna guesses you could be acting worse, so he can’t get too upset with you.

He stands up, and walks out of the room to follow behind you. Soon, he won’t be following you but after a miniature version of himself. His heir. The day could not come sooner. He’ll go back to being able to do whatever he wants, and bringing his heir along to witness his atrocious acts. But for all of that to happen, he must put up with you first. 

He picked you for a reason, he can deal with you. Perhaps he’s a little lost on how to get you to eat, but he can deal with the rest.

“Sukuna.” You walk out of your room to find Sukuna leaning against the tatami door. He’s shutting his eyes, for the first time ever you’re watching him fall asleep. In your mind, Sukuna never rests.

When you wake up in the middle of the night, he’s there, watching you sleep. A looming gaze watching over you during the dead of night. A sight so scary that it sends shivers down someone’s spine, bearing them unable to move. A sight that you’ve grown accustomed to.

You shouldn’t bother him when he’s falling asleep. You assume he doesn’t get much rest, so maybe you should leave him alone. You just want to go for a short walk before a stressful dinner. It’s the same scenario every night: you can’t stand the smell of the food so you refuse to eat it, and Sukuna tries to shove it down your throat.

You decide not to bother him, getting on your tip toes to try and sneak out of the place without disturbing his ever-so-rare peace. You just need a moment outside, take in a breath of fresh air and walk while you still can. You’re gaining weight faster than you expected, you doubt that you’ll be able to move freely in the next couple of months. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” His hand wraps around your ankle, stopping you from taking another step. You’ve been caught red-handed, and from the tone that you pick up in his voice, he’s not particularly happy about it. He stands up, quickly towering over you.

“I just need a breath of fresh air.” You tell him, hoping that he won’t get too mad. Sukuna made it clear that he must be near you at all times. He’s most worried about his delicate baby, he doesn’t need someone potentially harming him. Him, as if you had any way to know the sex of the baby.

“The sun is setting, you can’t.” He’s firm, you shouldn’t dare challenge his authority. Yet, you pout and cross your arms, hoping to get to him. A foolish trick that would never work on Sukuna.

“I’m tired of being inside.” You comment, making him scoff. You should’ve thought about that hours before, not now. You slightly tilt your head to the side before questioning, “Isn’t this place supposed to be safe?”

“You’re a fool to trust anyone here.” He quickly replies, and you click your tongue. “It’s time for you to eat, let’s go.”

“Please, I’m not hungry.” You respond, though it falls on deaf ears. Sukuna picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder before carrying you to the dining room.

“Uraume! Get dinner ready!” He yells, while you kick your feet so he lets you go. Sukuna wants to laugh. Not a scoff, a genuine laugh. You’re so pathetically weak, yet you try to break free from his grasp by kicking him. You’re probably using all of your strength, but it doesn’t feel like anything to him.

He puts you down on the floor of the dining room, and you frown at him as he takes a seat across from you. You’re acting like a child. You don’t want to eat, you’re refusing anything and everything. Your stomach is too sensitive and you absolutely hate the feeling of regurgitation. You never thought you’d hate a feeling as much as you hate that one. But Sukuna doesn’t take your feelings into consideration, as to be expected.

You refuse to speak to Sukuna as you sit across from Sukuna, waiting for your dinner. Typically you’re trying to keep some sort of conversation going, but you’re not in the mood at this moment. Sukuna isn’t going to say anything about it, he enjoys the peace. 

Within minutes, your food is in front of you. But neither of you dare touch the plates. Sukuna watches you like a hawk, waiting for you to make the first move on your food. 

“Eat.” He orders, but you dramatically turn your head. You refuse. No one is going to make you eat, not even the brutish monster before you. “I ordered you to eat!”

“No.” You keep your voice calm. You keep up your composure. It’s a simple answer that sends him over the edge. Before you know it, he’s reaching over the table and trying to get your mouth open so he can shove food inside.

Your lips are sealed, refusing to let any food into your mouth. He’s trying to get an opening, but you’re not letting him in. He sees tears well up in your eyes, suddenly becoming sensitive about the situation. He shouldn’t care. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. His heir has to eat. 

“Fine!” Sukuna ends up letting go, giving up as a tear streams down your cheek. Before he can even blink, you stand up and run out of the place. Sukuna makes sure to follow behind, only to watch you puking the little food that you had in your stomach.

He rolls his eyes, sighing. He has to find a way for you to eat, and apparently the way he just attempted isn’t the right way. Whichever way it is, he has to figure it out soon.

[ichorai]

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books. 

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted. 

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—” 

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head. 

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.” 

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said. 

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be. 

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches. 

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend. 

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep. 

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at. 

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by. 

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered. 

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now. 

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips. 

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.” 

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.” 

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough. 

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears. 

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead. 

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught. 

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls. 

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened. 

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?” 

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her. 

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled. 

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess. 

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she? 

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off. 

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks. 

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up, 

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager. 

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly. 

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy. 

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column. 

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire. 

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away. 

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair. 

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered. 

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown. 

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.” 

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements. 

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen. 

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest. 

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier. 

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact. 

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen. 

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice. 

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

[screamingcrows]

Hi. Don't mind me uh- this was also supposed to be a 50 word post.

Dr. Ratio x reader, soft, fluff, domestic, established relationship.

While not exactly unprecedented, you can count on one hand the number of times Veritas has left without kissing you goodbye.

But then again, he had seemed almost stressed as of late. Not that you'd been able to pry the reason from those delicately sculpted lips anyway. So here you were, alone beneath the plush covers, with nothing but the fading warmth of his presence beside you.

In lieu of better, you rolled onto his side to bury your face into his pillow and inhale the familiar scent of his favored shampoo. With your eyes closed, it was easy to imagine that the soft sheets were instead the planes of his abdomen, the weight of your blanket the press of his arms when he would pull you close and kiss the top of your head.

Perhaps it was for the better that he'd seemingly left for work early. The grey clouds looming outside the window combined with the fog in your mind from a night of less than stellar sleep - you weren't entirely certain either of you would've left the bed today if you could've gotten your way.

A smile tugged at your lips while imagining how fussy Veritas would've been at the mere thought of cancelling his classes for no good reason. With his admirable, if at times annoying, sense of responsibility in mind, you pulled yourself from the little nest.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you stretched, curiously studying the trail of water across the bedroom floor. He truly must have been in a hurry to not dry off properly in the bathroom.

Another conundrum was waiting in the living room, proper posture thrown aside in favour of a hunched back and tense shoulders. Droplets of water glistened against his bare skin as it steadily dripped from the tips of his hair.

Wanting to continue observing, you barely managed to stifle a chuckle when he cursed under his breath, tip of the pen lifting from-

That wasn't his usual notebook?

And wasn't it past the time he would normally leave by now?

The questions stuck at the tip of your tongue when he snapped the book shut, expression tinged with panic for just a moment.

"Has no one taught you to knock?" Too much effort went into his nonchalance, leaving his usually smooth voice sounding almost strained.

You shifted against the doorframe, curiously eyeing the book peeking out from beneath his broad forearms. It was ridiculous. Even with two hands, reaching around one was a tight fit.

"You want me to knock when I enter my own living room." You made certain to grin, not at all worried about whatever he was hiding, enjoying the frustration creeping into his eyes when he realised his mistake. Moving to his study had been better if trying to keep some secret.

"Getting up quietly isn't usually your forte," he raised a brow when you knowingly remained quiet, refusing to let him grasp control, "neither is getting up early on your days off."

"Mhm, and you're being unusually sloppy."

Months of study had your eyes immediately recognising the slight clench of his jaw, how a muscle in his neck briefly shifted beneath the skin. Your choice of words had the desired effect.

"I simply have something to finish before-" his throat bobbed when you stepped closer, "before you got up."

You came to a halt, frowning slightly at the admission. Veritas sounded uncharacteristically defeated, and the way his fingers pressed against the pen certainly weren't normal either, usually one to handle his tools much as he did you, with a care that bordered on reverence.

Restraining your curiosity when the book - bound in fabric the colour of his hair, you mused - was pushed towards the edge of the dining table, proved difficult after noticing how he turned his head away, going so far as to run a hand through his damp hair.

"You mentioned wanting to go back and experience our first night after my-" butterflies fluttered in your chest, feeling laughter rise alongside tears when he continued, "declaration. Thus, I reasoned having a written account of events would be beneficial. Not to mention that experiencing it from a different perspective might also prove entertaining."

"Veritas..." Your hands were trembling a little when you opened on a random page, eyes skimming down rows of carefully penned letters. The paper was off-white as well, fitted to a preference you'd never uttered aloud. "Did you?"

"I did. Would have, at least, if someone hadn't decided to get out of bed early for once. The last page might be a little smudged given how I closed it before letting the ink fully dry-"

He went quiet when you wrapped your arms around his bare shoulders, a sigh of relief leaving his lips in time with a fond chuckle from yours.

"I love it."

The feeling of his palm sliding underneath your shirt to rub against the small of your back felt familiar enough by now that you easily relaxed, pressing your lips against the top of his head.

"I've cancelled my lectures today and would have made us breakfast in bed..."

"I don't mind going back."

It truly was amazing what time could accomplish, already now having your bodies working in tandem to press closer, his head against your chest as your cheeks began to ache from smiling. You'd take time to read his account later. Maybe have him read it out loud.

The faintest whisper accompanied by a kiss to your sternum drew your attention to your lover, "happy anniversary."

[hollowdeath]

Okay I was thinking of writing this myself but like Harry and his crush (who's a talented Potions witch) brews up an aphrodisiac potion into the form of a vapor (inhaled through like an atomizer) and she wants to test it with her best friend (crush lmao) Harry. Idea is a WIP but if you could use it for a smut piece I wouldn't complain 🫣🫣 LOVE YOUR WORK OMFG

Thank you loveee! ❤️

AAAAA thank you for requesting this!!! ive been wanting to write something like this for a while so you gave me the perfect excuse to try it out :D you're the best!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been working on a project involving amortentia, the most powerful love potion to exist, and when harry tests your device the night before it's due, he has some rather intense side effects.

cw: smut!!! dom!harry, fingering, penetration, breeding

word count: 6k

you and harry had spent the entire semester working together on a project that challenged you to create a new form of an old potion. rather than settling for the obvious ideas like turning felix felicis into gummy candies, you and harry had decided to try something a bit more complex.

you knew right away you wanted to work with amortentia more closely, as you had always been fascinated by the potion and its powerful properties, and harry was more than willing to let you take the reins of the project. he gave insight when he could, and spent a fair amount of time helping you figure out the more complicated steps of the process, but he honestly just loved sitting back and watching you work your magic. literally.

you were by far the most knowledgeable student when it came to potions, and undoubtedly one of the smartest witches harry had ever met. he considered himself lucky that you two had already formed a friendship prior to taking potions together, allowing him to pair up with the most sought after partner in the entire class. more than just your knowledge and skill, harry was just excited to be your partner so he could know you better and see how your mind works.

you were excited to work with harry as well, but not to collaborate on potions and fiddle with mechanics you could never understand. you had looked forward to sitting close to him, reading from the same books, talking for hours, and watching his eyes intently focus as he prepared the ingredients for you. of course you two were friends more than anything, and you never considered yourself one of those girls who would fawn over harry for doing absolutely nothing, but working with him so intimately for the entire semester really made you see him differently. he was funny, he was smart, he remembered every little thing about you, and he always brought you snacks when you were working together. it didn't help that you found him absolutely adorable in big sweaters with messy hair, or felt your heart race when he looked at you from over his glasses, or couldn't keep your eyes off his hands when he was helping you put together your atomizer.

speaking of, your project had actually turned out extremely well for the little experience either of you had in engineering such a device. it was a small, handheld diffuser that transformed liquid amortentia, as well as a mix of other potent aphrodisiacs, into a vapor that could be inhaled for the full effect. harry had actually been the one to suggest the idea, trying to figure out a better way to ingest the mixture while still altering its state. you thought it was brilliant, and were surprised at how smooth the process turned out to be.

however, the presentation for the project was tomorrow morning, and you were still fiddling with a few of the mechanics to get it to work just right. it was hard to know when it was fully finished since testing the product wasn't exactly practical, as the effects would have anyone distracted and unable to focus within seconds of inhaling it. you were a bit frustrated sitting alone at your table in the potions lab, a single light above you as the sun had long since set and night took over. your head was in your hands, staring at the atomizer in front of you, wondering if you should just take the chance and test it since you were alone in the classroom.

just as you were convincing yourself, you heard the door creak open to your right, causing you to jump in your seat. you couldn't make out who was there ar first as your eyes were still adjusting to the dark room around you. you hadn't expected anyone to come in anyway, mostly because it was past curfew and, frankly, who would want to spend their time in the potions lab on a sunday evening?

but, as the figure walked closer to you, you noticed it was harry dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt with his slippers scraping across the wooden floors. "harry," you breathed a sigh of relief, your hand resting on your chest. "you scared the piss out of me." you say with a laugh.

harry chuckles, and you notice he's carrying his invisibility robe in one hand, half of his arm disappearing beneath it. "sorry, figured there'd be no one in here," he says with a sleepy voice, setting the robe over his own chair, making it disappear as well.

you sigh, setting your head back in your hands and leaning your elbows on the table. "it's okay, i probably shouldn't be here anyways. this thing has me seeing red, and not in a good way." you complain. harry laughs again, making his way next to you and under the light. your stomach drops at how soft he looks, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, deep voice quietly chuckling as he leans on the table beside you.

"yeah, well, i couldn't sleep knowing it wasn't perfect as well," harry tells you, his eyes fixated on the device. "not that slughorn would notice either way, but…" he trails off, making you crack a smile and chuckle as well.

harry looks down at you, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. "i just know how much it means to you." he says.

you feel yourself blushing and quickly begin changing the subject. "w-well, i think i've got it most of the way there, it's just, um…" you say nervously, picking up the cylindrical vaporizer and examining it in your hands once again.

"just…?" harry provokes.

you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head as you pass the device back and forth between your hands. "just…that, um, it still needs to be tested, i guess, to see the full effects, y'know?" you try to explain without stumbling over your thoughts.

harry understands what you mean and nods his head slowly. "oh, right…" he says a bit nervously as well, pushing himself off the table to stand up straight and clear his throat.

an awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as you continue to roll the vaporizer between your fingers. "yeah…" you trail off once again.

harry nervously chuckles, breaking the silence and making you laugh at the sudden tension. "well, then, hand it over i guess." harry casually requests, holding his hand out to you.

you look up at harry in confusion, your eyebrows pinched together as you examine his lighthearted expression. "harry," you try to find your words, feeling yourself still blushing under his gaze. "are you mad? you can't just test this out randomly." you try to explain to him.

harry shakes his head, his own eyebrows pinching together as he lets out an amused laugh. "why not? it can't be that strong," he shrugs.

you give harry another incredulous look, utterly confused at his nonchalant attitude. "are you kidding? this potion is composed of some of the most potent aphrodisiacs in the world, and inhaling them should only intensify the effects…theoretically," you add the last part in a hopeful tone, turning your attention back to the device in your hands.

harry just extends his hand out further, nearly touching yours. "well, we'll never know if we don't test it, now will we?" he asks with a smirk. you hesitate for another moment, still looking down at your hands. of course you were insanely curious about the effects of the project you spent weeks sweating over, and certainly would feel better knowing it actually works as intended before having to present it to the class tomorrow. but you were worried it could affect harry negatively, or that he could have a bad reaction to it, and you weren't sure if you could take that risk.

"just trust me, [y/n]. i can handle it." harry reassures you once more, his voice warm and familiar.

you sigh, carefully handing over the device to harry and leaning back in your chair. he smiles at you, taking one more look at the design of the vaporizer in his hands before bringing the mouthpiece up to his lips and inhaling the mixture. harry holds his breath for a moment before blowing out the vapor slowly, the clouds surrounding him under the dim lighting in a way that makes your heart stop. he looks ethereal with the billowing vapor coming from his lips and nostrils, a soft smile pinching his cheeks.

"tastes amazing," harry observes, taking another look at the design as the vapor fades into the air.

you wait for a few seconds, looking for any sign of behavioral changes in harry as he continues to rotate the device in his fingers. "well?" you ask in a hopeful tone.

harry looks down at you, and for a split second, you swear his pupils expand to the size of his iris before shrinking back to their normal size, blinking rapidly as they do. harry sets the device down and looks away from you, his neck jerking to the side and his knuckles clenching.

"harry?" you ask, concerned, standing from your seat and reaching for harry's shoulder. before you can touch him he jerks away, making a frustrated groaning sound as he did. you're still concerned, but mostly confused as harry's hands reach for the edge of the table and grip it so hard his veins are pulsing. his breathing is ragged and heavy, nearly growling as he tries to steady it. you're momentarily distracted before harry attempts to speak to you.

"it works," he barks out, his voice strained and impatient. you're taken aback at his aggressive change in tone. "what?" you ask again, trying again to reach for his shoulder. "harry, are you okay?"

just as you make contact with his sweatshirt, harry's legs go limp beneath him as he sinks to his knees. his breathing gets heavier as he lets out a pained groan, trying his best to stand up and let go of the table for support. "just," he says between panting breaths. "i have to go," he abruptly turns and tries to leave, his hands grabbing at his hair and face as he stumbles away.

"harry," you call after him. "what's happening? are you okay? is it hurting you?" you try to get some insight on what harry's experiencing, but he keeps shaking his head as he tries to make his way to the door.

"harry!" you finally snap, stepping away from the table. harry stops in his tracks. "our presentation is in 6 hours and you said you could handle the effects. now, i need to know what they are or else i'm testing it out myself." you demand angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

harry turns to you but doesn't dare look at you, his body hunched over as if he's in pain. his hands are still rubbing at his eyes and he seems to be wiping away sweat on his forehead every other second.

"look, [y/n]," harry snaps back. you're again taken aback by his tone; you've never heard his voice so dark and foreboding before, and the sound of him practically growling your name has your mind racing. "i told you it works, okay? isn't that what you wanted?" his words are rushed, as if he's still trying to leave when you have so many questions that need answered.

"i need to know specifics, harry. what does it feel like? was there any physical response? how strong is it? i mean, you really can't let me ask a few questions about something we've been working on for weeks?" you ask.

harry frustratedly walks towards you, his wide strides making you step back towards the table in anticipation. his fists are balled at his sides, his eyes still pointed at the ground. "you wanna know what it feels like?" his voice bellows in the empty classroom, causing you to jump and gasp. you didn't want any prefects to hear you two in the lab and then have to explain why harry was in such a state.

harry comes closer to you, backing you against the table as his eyes stay fixed downward. "you wanna know how i feel, [y/n]?" he asks again, his voice less angry and more impatient, feeling his hot breath fall across your skin. again, hearing him spit your name at you so aggressively only made your mind race faster. you could hardly speak, so you just nodded your head anxiously, still attempting to put more space between you and harry.

for a while only harry's heavy breathing fills the room. you can see his hands still clenched at his sides, nearly shaking from the amount of pressure they're under. just as you're about to turn your head away from the tense moment, harry's eyes meet yours. you gasp again, this time at just how dark they had become since first looking away from you.

harry smirks evilly at your shock, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the table behind you, bringing his body even closer to yours. you were feeling such a rush of every emotion possible it was hard to tell what exactly you were feeling; all you knew is you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs despite fear making your heart race.

"i feel like i could tear you apart." harry's words drip with venom, his body leaning further into yours. you let out a shaky breath, your feet still trying to back up despite the table stopping you. "and i feel like you would let me." harry teases, his smirk growing.

you let out an involuntary squeal as harry's face comes closer to yours, turning away to avoid his eyes. "h-harry–" you try to protest, but he turns your chin back to him before you can finish.

"wouldn't you?" harry asks with a knowing tone.

you try to turn away again but harry doesn't let you, instead only bringing your lips closer to his as his hand fixes itself around your jaw tightly. you struggle a bit in his grasp but he isn't letting you go.

"i see the way you watch me, pretty girl. you may be smart but you're not very clever." harry's lips barely graze yours as he talks, his breath overwhelming your senses as he continues to stare into your eyes. "you'd love for me to tell you all the filthy thoughts running through my head about you right now, wouldn't you, darling? want me to describe every scenario, every position, every sound that comes from these pretty lips?" harry's thumb raises from your chin to your bottom lip as he swipes it across the soft skin.

you're speechless at his blunt attitude, your legs shaking beneath you as you try your best to continue standing. your mind is a mess trying to understand his response. you knew the vapor would be powerful, but you had no idea harry would react like this. you weren't exactly complaining, it was just so out of character for him to be so suggestive and upfront with his desires, let alone his apparent desire for you.

you clear your throat, trying to gain the confidence to formulate an answer to his question. "h-harry, it's the vapor, y-you're not yourself," you try to explain, your voice getting caught. "just…just sit down a-and we can talk about the side effects."

harry's grip on your jaw tightens more, making you wince slightly.

harry pulls away from your face, his eyes still boring into yours hungrily. his glasses are slightly fogged from how close he was to you, but his blown pupils were still clearly visible. he's looking down at you, smirking, chuckling at your pained expression. "you never answered my questions, if i remember correctly."

you can hardly continue keeping eye contact with harry as you felt your cheeks completely flushed and heart racing beneath his grasp. you were trying to keep it together knowing he was under the effects of a powerful potion, but part of you has wanted this for so long it only feels right to let harry have what he seems to want as well. i mean, that's what friends are for, right?

still squirming under the weight of his body against yours, harry grows impatient as he lets his clothed erection just barely rub against your thigh, enough to get your attention. your eyes widen, and harry smiles in satisfaction, humming at your response. you let your body relax despite your thumping heartbeat and rapid breathing, feeling yourself lean into harry as well.

harry hums again with his eyes tracing over every part of your face like he's trying to memorize it. "hmm, that's what i thought. now, tell me, pretty girl," harry starts, his hand tilting your head up to face him more. "what do you want?"

his question left you speechless once again. you didn't expect harry to consider your feelings in the matter; not that it made any difference anyway, you've wanted him just as bad for a long time now. but you were conflicted, was harry actually attracted to you, or would the potion make him act this way towards anybody? would it be wrong of you to encourage his behavior knowing he was under the influence of a potion? did any of that even matter with harry's throbbing erection pressed against you?

rather than answering harry's question, you took a chance and reached for his shoulders to help steady yourself before pressing your lips against his. harry moans into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your jaw loosening but still holding you in place. his other hand snakes around from the edge of the table to your ass, hungrily grabbing for it and making you gasp.

harry takes this chance to shove his tongue past your lips, pushing you back against the table once more. in one swift motion he lifts your ass onto the tabletop, sitting you down in front of him. both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt, which you help him take off quickly. his lips attached to your neck, his hands already wrapped around your waist, and you nervously watched the door behind harry to make sure no one catches you two.

you start pulling at harry's sweatshirt and he rips it off before you even have the chance to help him. his skin is hot to the touch, and his hair's becoming damp with sweat. "harry," you say shakily as he's leaving a bruise on the side of your neck with his teeth. "you're so warm,"

pulling away and admiring the fresh red mark he's left on you, harry has a slight smirk on his swollen lips, "you should feel my heart," he says with a chuckle, guiding one of your hands to his warm chest. you can immediately feel his racing heart just beneath your fingertips, beating at a pace that couldn't be healthy for him.

you try to protest, but harry just gives you another hungry but short kiss. "i'm fine, [y/n]. i'm better than fine. it's like every inhibition i've ever had is gone, and it feels amazing. i'm sorry if i've been a bit strong, but, if you could see what i'm thinking, you'd actually be a bit impressed with my restraint…" harry voice is softer this time, his hands finding their way to your back, fiddling with the clasps on your bra. his lips wander from your ear down to your shoulder, sending a chill down your spine.

once harry has your bra undone, he looks back at you for confirmation. you eagerly help him remove it from you, throwing it to the side as harry's eyes become fixated on your chest. "fucking hell, [y/n]." harry curses under his breath before his hands cup your boobs aggressively, making you whimper in response.

it doesn't take long before harry has to press his lips against the soft skin of your tits, with his teeth following not far behind. you instinctively bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds you can't hold back, but harry isn't having any of it. he gives you a stern look before grabbing your wrist and placing your hand in his messy hair. "let me hear you." he states, his voice dark and commanding once again.

once harry's lips and tongue find their way to your nipples, you can't help but start to melt in his hands. whiny moans, gasps, and occasional curses fall from your lips watching harry's eyes flutter close as he enjoys pleasing you. your fingers become entangled in his hair, holding him closer to your chest.

however, harry soon grows impatient again, and your filthy noises certainly didn't help him.

he pulls you down from the table, making sure you're able to stand before quickly turning you around and pressing his erection against your ass. you moan at the feeling and grind against him, making harry's grip on your waist tighten as he lets out his own strangled moan.

you help harry remove your pants as his come off as well. only left in your underwear, harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his fingers softly running across the wet fabric covering your pussy. "fuck," he breathes against your ear, his other arm wrapping across your chest and bringing you further into him. "i need you."

harry's desperate tone sends another shiver across your skin, your mind practically short circuiting at the thought of him wanting you so badly.

harry bends you over the table, his chest against your back as he leaves rushed kisses along the nape of your neck. the cold surface of the lab table makes you gasp, your nipples hardening at the sensation.

"now," harry says, leaving one more kiss just under your ear. "what i want you to do," he continues, reaching for your open notebook across the table as well as your pen. "is be a good potions student, and write down my symptoms." he tells you as he sets the notebook in front of you and hands you the pen. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you're a bit confused and nearly about to protest when you feel harry's fingers hook under your panties and pull them down hastily. you try to look back at him, but a hand quickly grabs your hair from behind and forces you to look back at your notes. "follow the rules, darling." harry's deep voice instructs you with a hint of a threat behind his words.

harry's grip on your hair only makes your pussy throb more. you can feel his other hand resting on the back of your thigh, his fingers running along the wet folds of your pussy, humming to himself at the warm feeling. just as you're about to start writing, you can feel harry slowly pushing a finger inside of you. your moan is strained at the unfamiliar feeling, but harry's tight grip in your hair loosens as he begins to comfort you. "just relax and let me take care of it, baby."

if you weren't wet before you certainly were now. your knees were weakening beneath you, forcing you to lean into the table for more support. you relaxed your body and breathed evenly, trying to shift your focus to the notes in front of you instead. your handwriting is shaky and uneven, biting your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the desperate feeling growing inside you.

"go on, tell me what you wrote." harry teases. you groan in protest but attempt to speak anyway. "r-rapid, heartbeat," you manage to say before you start writing the next symptom. "d–" you try to speak, but you gasp as harry introduces another finger into your aching pussy.

harry chuckles, tightening his grip in your hair. "hm?" he asks, waiting for you to continue. you try to hold back your moans as you look back down at your notes, your eyes attempting to focus on your writing. "d-dilated…pupils…" you trail off, your eyes rolling back as harry's fingers thrust deeper into you. you can hardly keep your moaning under control and harry's loving every second of it.

"lack of…inhibitions," you breathe out, your handwriting barely legible the more you write. harry deep chuckle from behind you only distracts you further. your stomach is tight and your legs can barely hold you up anymore as you feel your high begin to build. just as it does, harry removes his fingers and leaves you feeling empty.

before you can whine, harry lets go of his grip on your hair and instead grabs your shoulders, pulling you up from the table a bit. holding yourself up with your arms, harry separates your feet with his. you can feel the head of his cock grinding against your wetness from behind.

harry's fingers end up in your mouth, making you taste yourself as he forces your head back to look at him. his eyes are entirely dark, no longer the inviting shades of blue you're so accustomed to. his smirk is evil, and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the excessive sweating. "i want to watch you take me." harry's voice is darker than his eyes, a cold, demanding force that takes what it needs.

with his fingers still holding your mouth open, you let out a pained moan at the overwhelming feeling of harry's cock pushing inside of you. despite his aggressive demeanor, harry remains gentle with you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling and carefully watching your expression. his eyes are practically sparkling with lust watching you lose yourself in the feeling of being filled by his cock.

"fuck," harry curses under his breath again. his other hand grabs for your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like you're the only thing keeping him standing. "feel so good, darling." harry places a messy kiss on your forehead before he begins thrusting into you again, slowly, enjoying every second he's inside of you.

you're nearly crying out in pleasure and desperation with the pathetic sounds coming from you. you can hardly move against harry's grasp, not that you were complaining, but you just needed more or else you would go insane.

you attempt to push your hips back to make harry get the message, and the smirk on his face tells you he got it right away. once he starts thrusting into you quicker, your mind goes blank. you can feel the drool start to drip out of your mouth and over harry's fingers, even down to your chest and the table top. harry is groaning at the sight of you becoming such a mess for him.

"looks like you needed this more than i did, hm?" harry teases, his lips so close to your ear you can feel them. you nod eagerly, your hands reaching for his arm holding your mouth open. you grip onto his forearm for stability, your eyes rolling back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure. he takes his fingers out of your mouth and instead holds your throat tightly. you gasp for air and wipe the drool from your lips.

soon both of your moans fill the room, the air sweaty and the table creaking beneath you. the fear of someone hearing you or getting caught no longer concerns you, if anything it just thrills you even more.

harry then reaches for your notes and pen again. you try hold the pen as well as you could. "i have one more symptom i want you to add," harry says between heavy breaths, becoming worn out and even more sweaty. you whine, but nod your head as you attempt to line your writing up with the rest.

you feel harry bend you further over the table, his chest hot against your back as he continues pounding into you. it's challenging trying to keep your eyes open and focused when you're completely blissed out with harry groaning in your ear.

"obsession," he hisses, his grip on your throat tightening as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

you try to write out the word, but you can hardly keep your hands steady. your stomach feels tight, your heart starts beating even faster, and you can feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm.

harry chuckles at your pathetic attempt at writing, but moves the notebook away anyway. "good girl." he commends you.

it's enough to bring you over the edge, your mouth dropping open with nasty sounds and eyes rolling back once more. harry groans into your ear as your pussy tightens around him, his thrusting becoming sloppy and tired.

"please," he breathes out just as you start coming down. "please, baby, can i cum inside you, please, please, i need it," harry's practically begging you, as if he even needed to ask.

"cum inside me, harry, please,"

"fuck," he moans again, his voice broken and needy. he's still desperately chasing his high, his hands sliding around to your stomach to feel himself pounding into you. "you're all mine, [y/n], all fucking mine." he growls into your ear. you could nearly cum again hearing harry fall apart behind you.

with a few more stuttering thrusts, harry cums inside you with another broken moan, bending you over the table again as his hands try to catch himself. his cock still fully inside you, you can feel his chest rising and falling on your back as he tries to catch his breath.

harry quickly gets off of you, almost in a rush. you turn to him and see his eyes are wide, his pupils shrinking back to their normal size, his hair nearly soaked in sweat. he tries his best to cover himself up, eventually grabbing for his pajama pants to put them back on. you're a bit lost at his reaction, hoping he didn't regret his actions so quickly.

"u-uhm, [y/n], i'm…i'm, so sorry," harry apologizes, his voice genuine and scared. he's wiping the sweat from his face, barely able to look at you. "i-i didn't mean for it to, f-for me to, um…" he's stumbling over his words, the same nervous harry you were so used to.

you smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself a bit as well. "what, you didn't mean to fuck me over our lab table?" you ask smugly. harry's cheeks are completely flushed but he's trying his best to hide that from you, his hands covering his face.

"stop." he simply says, his voice meek and quiet. you giggle to yourself and step closer to him, admiring how pretty his sweaty skin looks in the dim lighting.

"hey," you say to him, stopping only about a foot away, completely naked and still shaking a bit. you reach for harry's arm and tug at it, making him uncover his face. he still doesn't dare look at you. "look, it's okay. that potion was extremely powerful, and we didn't know what would happen. as long as you feel alright that's all that matters, yeah? and, y'know, we can still be friends, even if you regret it..." you add the last part quietly, your voice breaking a bit.

harry looks up at you with guilty eyes. he's a bit distracted by your bare skin, but he can't stop looking back into your eyes. "please, don't take this as regret," he says, his eyebrows raised sympathetically. "i-i just, that's not…" he sighs, frustrated, looking away from you again. "it wasn't supposed to happen that way, our first time. n-not that i've thought about it that much," harry nervously interrupts himself, making you giggle once more.

harry looks back at you, his eyes wandering down to your chest. "u-uhm, just, you…if we ever did, y'know…you'd just deserve so much better than that," he tries to explain himself while clearly flustered.

you laugh again. "harry, i clearly enjoyed myself just then, didn't i? i mean, i don't know how it could've been much better." you admit, still in a teasing tone.

harry reaches for your shirt on the floor and offers to help you put it on. as he does you notice his eyes lingering on your chest again. "yes, but, i would've at least liked for you to have a bed to be comfortable on…" he says, knocking his knuckles against the hard surface of the table.

you roll your eyes at harry and reach for your pants as well. "well, maybe we can plan better for next time." you say with a smirk as you slip them on. harry straightens up from grabbing his shirt and looks at you with wide eyes again. "next time?" he asks innocently. you swear you could take him again right then and there, but you hold yourself back. "yeah, next time. if you'd like that." you offer him.

harry gives you that same shy smile he always has, and can barely hold himself back as he steps towards you and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. it's different, not hungry or full of lust, but rather warm and comforting. he pulls away after a moment to look at you, admiring your face in the light. "i'd love to." he whispers to you.

after helping you pack your stuff and clean up the table, harry offers to walk you back to your room with the invisibility cloak. you accept his offer and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, covering you both and walking you out of the lab and down the hallway.

before he leaves you for the night, harry can't help but snag another kiss, still as soft and loving as before with his hand resting on your cheek. you giggle into his lips, laying your forehead on his. "goodnight, harry." you say to him, readjusting your bag with your notebooks. "goodnight, my love." he tells you, unwrapping you from the cloak and leaving you with a swish.

the next morning you two had barely slept, sitting in potions class with matching eye bags and flushed cheeks. you could hardly look at the side of the table you were just bent over last night, and noticed harry smirking anytime he turned his head that way as well. his hands were subtly bumping into yours, as well as his knees, trying anything to get your attention during the other presentations. you just gave him a look, but couldn't help smiling at his gestures.

when it was your turn to present, harry let you do most of the talking and admired how passionately you spoke about the process to create the device. slughorn was more than impressed with your skill and knowledge, and awarded you and harry with top marks for your vaporizer.

"would there be any way to test the device?" he had asked curiously, holding it between his hands and examining it. "no!" you nearly exclaimed, taking it from his hands before he could even try. slughorn gives you a surprised look, but harry pipes up from behind you. "it's entirely too powerful to just try it out casually, sir." he says.

slughorn's eyebrows pinch together. "how so?" he asks. you and harry exchange awkward looks, both blushing and chuckling to yourselves. harry takes the device from you and puts it in his own pocket.

"just trust me, sir."

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[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

The Tiefling Bachelors Taking Care of Sick! Reader Getting Treatment

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts, finished months ago, but I guess I never posted it? Oh well, it’s here now! 

No one asked for this but it came to me as I was getting infused the other day. I really wanted Zevlor to manifest out of thin air and hold my hand  😔. Anyway, without further ado… Here we go!

Characters: Dammon/Reader; Rolan/Reader; Zevlor/Reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

TW: Brief discussions of illness, some fantasy medical talk

Dammon- 

Dammon is probably the most fussy of the trio. He’s bumbling around the tent, ensuring you have enough blankets and water. Or do you want tea? Juice? Whatever it is, love, name it and he will fetch it for you.

He means to be helpful although his nervous waiting on you does create an air of anxiety in the room. 

If he gets too manic, the healers have to send him out on an ‘errand’, so that he can collect his nerves and so you have time to yourself. 

When he returns, Dammon is much calmer, having been cornered and given a pep talk by one of the elder tieflings or your companions outside. 

He’ll sit across from you, and distract you by showing you his latest outlines/blueprints for swords and lathes and such. 

If you’re particularly stressed, or truly not feeling well due to the side-effects of the treatment, he might even show you his jewelry designs. Dammon was, of course, planning to give them to you as a present after you’d finished your treatment, but in the meantime, he’d like you to keep them in mind to have something forward to look to. 

If you’re sleepy, he’ll just stay at your side while you rest, sketching in his book or making idle chats with the healer. 

Dammon excels at ‘parallel play’ kind of dates. He quite enjoys it when the two of you are each doing their respective thing within a shared space. He’s more than comfortable amusing himself while you just chill out right next to him. 

Of course, before you leave, he asks the healers a million questions, scrambling down all their answers. How long will this last? What side effects should you look out for? What happens if things get worse? He wants to be prepared after they take their leave, and he sees it as his responsibility to take care of you as you recuperate. 

He’s really so sweet, like a little puppy dog. He’s not always the most helpful, and he has a tendency to get in the way, but his efforts never fail to lift your spirits at the end of the day.

Rolan-

Rolan is such a stickler for being an oppositional brat all the time. He gives everyone around him whiplash by turning into the most overbearing parental figure. You’d think he’d been possessed if it wasn’t for that trademark smirk of his. 

He’s constantly making you drink. No, he doesn’t care that you’re not thirsty, the healer said to stay hydrated throughout the process. And no, he doesn’t care that it means you have to get up to pee every 15 minutes. Urinary frequency is a small price to pay! Now be a good patient and drink your chamomile tea without any more complaining, yeah?

He watches the healers like a hawk, mentally recording their every word/move. He’s not a cleric or druid, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely naive to healing magic. He wants to make sure whatever spells or potions you’re being given are up to his standard. 

And if the healing isn’t magical in nature... Oh boy, he’s going to be even more of a pill about it. He still hovers of course. But he also makes the occasional ‘helpful’ suggestion like: ‘I know a spell that could do that faster’, ‘Herbs are nothing compared to the power of the Weave’. The healers just roll their eyes and work around him. 

If he gets really grouchy, you’re gonna have to put him in a time-out. If not for your sake, then for the poor healers who are just trying to do their job. Rolan argues for a moment, but ultimately agrees, leaving to gather himself. 

When he comes back you can tell either Cal or Lia have spoken some sense into him, since he’s calmed down a bit. Rolan will sit with you, read to you, hold your hand if you beg ask, he might even perform a few tricks for you if you’re feeling up to it. 

He ushers the healers away as soon as they're done, wanting to just be alone with you. He puts up a tough exterior, but deep down he’s afraid. He cares for you so much. You, Cal, and Lia are his family, he feels it's his job to protect you, but try as he might he cannot protect you from your illnesses, and that hurts him deeply. 

You’ll need to comfort him once all this is all over. It’s as much an ordeal for him as it is for you.

Zevlor-

Zevlor is a worry-wart, bless his old paladin heart. His mind is always racing with endless possibilities- about the tieflings, about the grove, about you… It can be a lot for the commander to handle. 

But because Zevlor is a paladin and former hellrider, he has a good amount of experience working under pressure. He knows how to keep a level head and act on what is good for those around him, unlike what seems easiest to accomplish. 

He’s a very disciplined man, and he tries to get that discipline extended to you as you heal. He sets up a regime, for diet, exercise, and socializing catered especially to your needs and current abilities. He wants you to utilize this time to maximize your healing, and just let yourself trust that you are doing all you can to take care of yourself. 

He trusts the healers implicitly, knowing their expertise is much better suited to you and your current priorities. He’ll cater his regime around their recommendations, taking into accommodation your current feelings/moods of course. 

He writes out instructions for you to read while he’s away, busy tending to his duties. In the event he’s especially worried about watching over you, he’ll send Tilly or another one of his soldiers to check in on you periodically. 

Zevlor would love nothing more than to spend the entire day with you, keeping you safe in his embrace, but he’s wise enough to understand that even amidst these kinds of things, life must go on. He cannot abandon his duties as leader and you cannot abandon your life. 

Zevlor tries to maintain the status quo as best as possible, he doesn’t want your illness and treatments to entirely define your life, just as he wishes Elterel will not solely define his. 

Once all is said and done, he comes to find you, a warm broth in his hands. He settles down next to you as you sip your meal slowly, his tail coiling around your waist keeping you close to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, you don’t need to. It’s clear to you what’s in Zevlor’s heart. 

The two of you just sit silently together, enjoying each other's company, as you brace yourselves for yet another new dawn. 

I hope you enjoyed! 

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[stayinlimbo]

Wait For Your Love

pairing: lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, second love (kinda), fluff, minor angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of a previous relationship, brief descriptions of heartbreak, so much pining omg, college-aged, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.21k note:  i am proud i finished this one ngl. thank you @hwangism143 for giving me confidence. i'm not too sure how much i like this fic because it wrote itself but i hope you all still enjoy ♡

If there is anything Minho has learned about you in the years he’s known you, it’s that you’re not subtle. 

It’s something that’s never seemed to bother you, even after he pointed it out once during your shared lecture class, voice tinged with exasperation as you ogled at the upperclassman you’d been making heart eyes at for the nth time that week. You wear your heart on your sleeve like a badge of honor, displayed proudly for the entire world to see. 

Minho has witnessed every emotion be reflected on your face at least once. If asked, he could probably fill a whole book with expressions he didn’t even know were possible until he saw them on you, though the snapshots etched into his memory could never perfectly capture the art of facial contortion you’ve mastered. 

Your open nature was evident from the beginning. He can still picture the bright grin you gave him when you occupied the desk next to his on the first day of high school. The feel of your gaze flickering towards his seated form and the light bouncing of your knee as the teacher dismissed class made it no surprise when you twisted in your chair to ask for his name and if he’d like to eat lunch with you. 

It’s a curious thing, looking back on it, to see the immediate effect you had on him. Minho truly couldn’t help the pink hues coloring his cheeks as you tested his name on your tongue for the first time, nor the shy smile blossoming on his lips at the way you visibly lit up when he accepted your offer. He didn’t know you, didn’t know why you were so happy, didn’t know what this feeling was deep inside his chest; all he knew was that he really wanted to keep making you smile. 

He likes to think he’s been successful over the years, if the way your head tilts back in laughter at his silly antics and tight grip on his biceps to hold yourself up is anything to go by. It’s an admirable goal his younger self set, though he’s not sure when it shifted from wanting you to be happy to just...wanting you.

He wanted you when he introduced you to his cats for the first time, the gentlest smile playing on his lips at your barely contained excitement as they brushed past your legs. He wanted you when you tried to teach him how to swim, despite the poorly concealed judgmental looks you kept throwing at him when he clung to your shoulders tightly in the shallow water. He wanted you at your best, at your worst, and in all your in-betweens. He wanted to be by your side, even if he couldn’t have you. 

And he was. Minho was there to separate your clammy hands, wrung together by the anxiety flooding through your system, and give them a reassuring squeeze. He watched you take a calming breath, offering him one last nervous smile before walking a few rows over to ask out Chan, the upperclassman you wouldn’t stop gushing about. He offered you two thumbs up and the best smile he could muster as you bounded back to him, hands waving wildly in the air as you fervently spilled the details about how you scored a date on Saturday.

He was there to give the best “guy advice” a man with no relationship experience possibly could and third-wheeled more times than he’d like to admit, because, try as he might, he never was able to say no to you. 

No, Minho never left. If he did, who would be there to comfort you after you and Chan broke up right before his graduation? It didn’t matter that you were failing miserably at hiding your puffy face or eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall as you delved further into what happened. He didn’t care about the tears from your sobs staining his shirt and wetting his neck as he pulled you into his chest or the amount of tissue piled in his trash can. Minho chose to bear your heartbreak, be the anchor you needed because he loved you. He loved you in the way you deserved to be loved. 

He noticed the soft sighs escaping your past lips when he drove past somewhere that reminded you of Chan and the distant, longing look in your eyes when his name was mentioned. He saw your posture straighten, features lighting up slightly with a quiet “thank you” leaving your lips when he offered to bring you coffee every week before your morning class. Minho watched the weight on your shoulders be slightly lifted day by day as you reclaimed and channeled your love into yourself. He witnessed the smile finally reach your eyes, your laughter ringing in the air after he successfully predicted what the characters on the TV screen would say, and he swore he’d never felt prouder in his life.

Minho has learned all your mannerisms and would argue that he knows you better than he knows himself. Yet, there was a gleam in your eyes he’d never seen before when he leaned back on your couch and locked his eyes with yours. The way you quickly redirected your gaze was new too, and you even looked a little... shy. His eyes trailed down to your lap, where you fiddled with your fingers as he grabbed one of your surprisingly sweaty hands in comfort. Oh, it’s warm too. Weird. 

It was weird when you refused to look at him for longer than two seconds when he picked you up for class the next day. He could not figure out why you were biting down on your cheeks to hold back the smile threatening to break out any moment, nor did he understand why, two weeks later, your smile directed at him had changed—still radiant and beautiful but somehow softer, more loving.

Why are you looking at him as if you love him? 

You’re not subtle; you never have been. Minho can see it now in the way you’ve found more excuses to hold onto his arm when walking through heavy foot traffic, when you’re scared by the movie he teased you about, when you’re pulling him closer because you’re cold and don’t want to reach for the blanket resting beside your body. He can see your love overflowing in the same way as his, hands itching to intertwine with each other. 

He knows you know about his feelings for you. How could you not, when he can hear your panicky voice reverberating through your apartment’s front door, pacing footsteps creaking the floorboards as you repeatedly question one of your other friends about how you should ask him out? He really hopes the catch in his breath wasn’t too audible.

Minho doesn’t mind waiting; he’d wait forever if he had to. But it doesn’t look like he’ll have to wait for long, not when your hope-filled determination paired with a wide-eyed stare pierces his heart and soul as you wrench the door open and usher him through the entryway.  

And if he didn’t leave until the next morning, hand intertwined with yours as he dragged you to the nearest coffee shop, well, that wasn’t anyone else’s business.

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[heathersdesk]

The Relationship between the LDS Church, Palestine, and Israel

I have a confession to make. As a younger person, I was obsessed with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.

"You and every Millennial."

NO. You don't understand. This went beyond "Neat, his talk is up next. He always does a good job. Let me tune back in to this two hour long meeting." This was a parasocial, fandom level, ADHD-fueled special interest that amounted to a kind of hero worship I can't fully explain now, other than to say I outgrew it. I had every talk of his that he had ever given that was available online on my various devices I had in college and would listen to them regularly. I knew them so well I could quote them in entire sections. One of my roommates met him in Southern Utah and got one of my books signed for me, and I cried when she gave it to me. I met him once at a Mark Twain performance (one of his favorite authors and the subject of his study as a student) at Sundance and I wasn't normal about it at all.

Elder Holland had a fan with Swiftie-levels of intensity in 2009, and it was me. It's deeply embarrassing to admit this, but it's crucial to understanding why I know the things I'm about to tell you.

Before Elder Holland became an apostle, he was the president of Brigham Young University. During his tenure, he entered into negotiations with Israel to build the Jerusalem Center, the extension of BYU's campus in the Holy Land. He raised $100 million for its construction. This required buy-in not only from church leadership and donors in the US, but the cooperation of the Israeli government. This was how he ended up winning the Torch of Liberty award from the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai Brith. He was effective enough at building bridges between Latter-day Saints and Jews and the other communities in Jerusalem, he got people to open their checkbooks to pay for the facility that would be dedicated to building that interfaith understanding and cooperation into the future. Finished in 1989, it's one of the most important contributions to the Church in Elder Holland's legacy.

The Jerusalem Center exists because of Elder Holland. How well he handled its formation, in my opinion, is how he ended up becoming a Seventy, followed by the call to become an Apostle in 1994.

The Jerusalem Center was constructed on what used to be Palestinian land. The Church is aware of that fact and makes restitution for it in the form of student scholarships to Palestinian students. Sahar Qumsiyeh, a professor at BYU-Idaho, was formerly a Palestinian Christian. She was introduced to the Church and joined because she received one of these scholarships.

The Jerusalem Center became a real turning point in the Church's relationship with Israel and Palestine because they have strong, close partnerships with individuals and groups who identify with each group. They have sent humanitarian aid many times over years, and have committed to doing so now. I trusted that would be the case.

I do highly encourage you to read the links above, but the TL;DR version is that the Church got fully engaged in helping Palestinian refugees for the first time in 2006. I've given you multiple links for a reason, so you can see the way LDS attitudes to this conflict between Israel and Palestine have been evolving and changing over time. The rejections of Israeli violence and support for Palestine today are not new. They've been going on in the LDS Church for almost two decades now. The Church maintains the campus in Jerusalem specifically to expand our peoples' perspectives and understanding of that conflict, specifically so they won't unconditionally side with Israel and support everything they do. And that's not my interpretation. That's what one of the instructors who taught at the Jerusalem Center said of the program there.

While some Latter-day Saints have adopted unconditional support of Israel because of the influence of their allegiance with the Republican party, it's not a position that's endorsed by the Church. It's a position the Church has made deliberate efforts to undermine with the resources available to them on multiple fronts. In education through the Jerusalem Center, in humanitarian aid to Palestinians, in messaging from General Conference, and in their PR campaigns like "I Was a Stranger," church leadership (and, one could argue, God) has been trying to challenge Latter-day Saints to develop a more unconditional love that embraces the entire human family, not just those who are politically convenient to us in our current loyalties.

So when the Church made their statement regarding the outbreak of the Israel Hamas War, people criticized it for not saying enough. It didn't give the information that people wanted: what the Church's response was going to look like, how it would impact church members in the region, and what precautions the Church was going to take to protect them. Because the statement was given on October 12th, the answers to those questions weren't really known. But there was an additional question people wanted answered: Whose side is the Church on? They wanted the strongest possible condemnation, some in favor of Israel, and some in favor of Palestine, depending on what their political alignments were. And I will say those people missed the point. They didn't have the knowledge base of the Church's relationship to the Middle East to properly understand the statement.

The Church didn't "pick a side" in this conflict because of the longstanding relationships the institution has with both Israelis and Palestinians. No human life in that war is more or less valuable to them based on their ethnic background or national origin. To expect the Church to choose sides demonstrates a total lack of understanding of what the Church's goals are with their presence in the Middle East: getting people to recognize the value in interfaith relationships and developing love that rejects politically manufactured enmity.

If you're demanding the Church to pick sides in conflicts based on your political alignments, you're allowing the process of politically motivated dehumanization to cloud your judgement. You're asking them to choose an enemy, which couldn't be further from what the Church is supposed to do in this situation. The statement reflects a refusal to choose sides by condemning one thing, in the strongest language I've ever seen any modern church leader use: Violence.

All violence, no matter who enacts it or for what purpose, is "abhorrent" in the sight of God. That's what the statement said. Think about the implications of that statement. If a person is doing violence, they cannot please God. Those who please God cannot do violence.

Think about the longstanding relationships the Church has with civic leaders in Israel. Think about the fact that this statement was given on the 12th of October, before Israel's offensive even began. It would have been so easy for the Church to condemn terrorism in that moment instead of violence, but that's not what they did. They stated their commitment to care for Israelis and Palestinians in the coming conflict, drawing a line in the sand—prophetically, if I may add. I fully believe that the strength of the language of this statement anticipates how extreme the Israeli response has been, which the Church condemned before it began.

One of the unfortunate side effects of being terminally online and fluent only in American politics is that a statement like the one the Church gave reads to some as saying passively "all lives matter." That's not what was happening here. There was a reason I gasped when I read the statement and thought to myself "Woooow. They're big mad."

I studied Public Relations in college. Lying is the dumbest approach you can take as a PR strategy. It squanders good will, destroys your authority, and doesn't accomplish any organizational goals long term. A better strategy is to say exactly what you mean in the fewest words possible, and let people identify the implications for themselves. Only those who are truly invested in your message will understand everything you said without you having to say it.

The Church's statement was all but a slap in the face to the Israeli and US governments, telling them that God rejects them for bringing this violence into the world. They will not enjoy his protection while this violence continues. It also stands to reason that any other nation that assists Israel with their campaign of death and destruction will also stand condemned by God.

Church leadership, in partnership with PR, isn't going to say that part out loud. But they'll imply the hell out of it. Working in PR is operating on Jane Austen levels of subtext. I wish more people understood that so they could enjoy moments like this when the Church throws shade.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 46: Oliver's Ballet

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: mind control, captivity

Oliver was trying to keep his hands from shaking as he walked up the stairs to the forbidden third floor.

It was the evening of the ballet, and his master had given him his instructions the previous night. He was to wake up before sunset, bathe, don the expertly tailored shirt and pants that had been provided to him, make coffee, and then head to Alexander's room to attend on him. Oliver wasn't entirely sure what that meant, and his nervousness over dispatching his duties warred with his nervousness about being an embarrassment at a fancy performance. He'd slept better the past two days, owning to Katherine's encouragement and his master's feeding, but now he couldn't help being slightly on edge.

Find happiness wherever you can...

He would do his best to follow her advice and enjoy himself tonight. It certainly wasn't every day he got to witness a ballet.

The oil lamp he was holding in his other hand sputtered and flickered as he climbed the stairs and apprehensively knocked on the dark wooden door that guarded his master's private sanctum. The door creaked open, revealing a very tired looking vampire in a fluffy robe. "Come in, Oliver, come in. Ah, you brought coffee. Excellent."

Oliver handed off the mug as he stepped over the threshold into the room, unable to resist sweeping his lamp around to get a better look, as it was currently only lit by a couple of candles.

Alexander's bedroom was furnished much like Oliver's, but larger, and far more cluttered. The window was covered with shutters, and a thick velvet curtain surrounded the enormous bed. The bookshelves were crammed full of books interspersed with rolled scrolls, stacks of papers, and seemingly random trinkets, a far cry from the orderly shelves in the library. The tables and nightstands were covered in stacks of books and hardened candle wax, and there was laundry strewn about the hardwood floor. The bed was unmade and the sheets and blankets were in a tangle, sliding off halfway, with a rubber water bottle lying nearby. The place smelled of bookbindings and floral soap and brine.

His master didn't seem remotely self-conscious about this state of affairs, taking the coffee, picking his way deftly through the mess, and sitting on the side of his bed. "It looks as if the shirt and pants fit without much need for additional tailoring. That's good," he said, looking Oliver up and down through half-closed eyes. "I suppose I ought to get dressed myself, and then you can assist me."

"Yes, sir." He was about to ask what exactly he would be assisting with, but as Alexander shed his robe and reached for his shirt, Oliver's attention was piqued by a strange symbol on his chest. A scar, but an oddly round one, with a faded symbol in the center.

"That doesn't concern you," said Alexander sharply, noticing Oliver's gaze. 

"Sorry, sir," said Oliver, making a point to look away as his master finished dressing.

He took another long look at Oliver as he buttoned all but the top button of his shirt. "...It's no matter. Come with me."

Oliver followed Alexander to a door in the back corner of the room, tripping over a pair of shoes obscured by an old coat on the way. The door opened to an absurdly spacious and opulent bathroom, featuring a marble floor, a porcelain bathtub large enough to fit half a baseball team, and expensive plush bath towels littering the floor in heaps. The smell of floral soap was even stronger here, and the remnants of steam clung to Oliver's glasses, the room oppressively warm.

Alexander sat down in front of a counter with a sink and a mirror, and Oliver's eyes went wide at the odd effect of his master having no reflection. He could see himself perfectly, as though Alexander wasn't even there.

"This is what I need your help with, Oliver. Making my hair look presentable, because I'm not able to do so myself."

That certainly explained why he was so disheveled normally -- although, given the state of his very visible room, it wasn't necessarily the full explanation. "What would you like me to do, sir?"

He gestured to a glass containing combs, long scissors, and a few other odd tools. "Whatever you think is fit. It's not as though I'm going to be able to see it to criticize. I only wish to look neat and presentable."

Oliver had really never paid too much attention to his own appearance, but he had always tried to look neat for customers, so he hoped he would be able to do the job. "Very well, sir," he said, apprehensively picking up a comb and running it through his master's hair.

His hair was soft, surprisingly so, and the scent of floral soap grew even stronger, with undertones of woodsmoke and bookbinding glue and something unidentifiable, a scent which he was quickly learning to associate with his master. Alexander closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face, seemingly enjoying the treatment. 

He must be so lonely. Oliver felt it so keenly the prior night when his master had cornered him in the kitchen and drank deep of his blood. As his master's thoughts pooled into his own, he was overwhelmed with loneliness, solitude, the desire for a warm and caring touch. Oliver couldn't help but work his hands into his master's hair on the pretense of styling it, enjoying the small, contented noise that escaped from his lips.

His master was handsome, wasn't he? Was there any harm in acknowledging that? It wasn't as if he had feelings for the vampire who had purchased him. He was simply accepting a truth, one that he had known even when Alexander was simply a prized customer.

"What is this ballet about, sir?" said Oliver, mostly to distract himself from this train of thought.

"It's an avant garde ballet, very controversial. It was actually choreographed and costumed by a famous Russian vampire who has worked in theater from well before I was born. This production has been mounted by a human company, though. It's a dance I'd been wishing to see for some time." Alexander's gaze traveled to Oliver's reflection in the mirror. "I have you to thank for encouraging me to leave the house more often, otherwise I might have missed this opportunity, instead electing to spend the evening wallowing in the manor's dust."

Oliver's breath hitched at his master's subtle smile. "I'm glad of it, sir."

----

Even though his tuxedo fit perfectly -- thanks to the detailed measurements Miss Florence had taken at the auction house -- Oliver still felt uncomfortable among the crowd dressed to the nines at the theater. He was dazzled by the gilded carvings on the walls, leading to a ceiling decorated with an elaborate fresco, and nearly crashed into a woman in a ball gown as he took in the sights.

His master, on the other hand, glided through the crowd effortlessly, paying them no mind. As Oliver followed, he could feel a sense of flowing waves, Alexander's vampiric aura pushing away everyone but Oliver, who felt compelled to follow his footsteps. It was just as well that his master was guiding him, lest he find himself lost.

Soon enough, they had both settled in a luxurious balcony box for two, and Oliver was shocked to see an actual look of excitement on Alexander's sleepy face.

"I simply can't wait to see the costumes -- I've heard they're magnificent. And of course, Yelena Pavlova is said to be a master of the dance. They say her striking and dramatic movements place her a cut above the prima ballerinas who only know how to flit prettily about," said Alexander, with enthusiasm. "I do hope you enjoy it."

"I think I will, sir," said Oliver. At the very least, he was sure he could enjoy it vicariously through his master.

The lights dimmed, the dance began, and Oliver soon found his attention riveted to the stage. It truly was an avant-garde sort of ballet, and the costumes were mind-bending. There were dancers wearing disturbingly realistic animal heads, costumes adorned with colored glass that glittered like jewels, massive peacock feather headdresses, ropes of pearls entangling their bodies, and a few in iron chains and shackles. The intricate pattern of their dance was ritualistic, as though Oliver were watching something forbidden that he couldn't take his eyes from.

Among them all, the prima ballerina Alexander had mentioned performed a stunning routine, clad in an outfit that seemed mostly comprised of ribbons in every color of the rainbow. She was striking pose after pose, being lifted and passed among the dancers, twirling faster than Oliver knew was possible. She was endlessly fascinating to watch.

The dance was so fascinating, in fact, that Oliver had forgotten all about his master's reactions. He glanced over, expecting that Alexander was enjoying himself as much as he was, and was shocked to see a look of stress on his master's face.

"Master, what's wrong?" he whispered.

"Nothing. Just watch the dance," he said, in a voice almost too low to hear, and his eyes flicked across the balcony to a different box.

Oliver couldn't help but look, to see what had his master so concerned. The box across the way had only one occupant, an older gentleman in an impeccably styled black suit. His full focus was on the ballet, his gaze holding a kind of judgmental intensity that made Oliver think he must be a professional critic.

Was this man troubling Alexander? It didn't seem like it could be. Perhaps he was worried about something else, and this man just happened to be in his line of sight as he glanced about nervously.

Could he be...?

Oliver tried to put it out of his head, but now he couldn't help but notice every time Alexander's gaze wandered from the stage. The moment intermission was announced, his master turned to him.

"Do you need to stretch your legs? Use the restroom?" his master asked. Before Oliver could even answer, he continued, "Very well, let's leave the box for a moment." He grasped Oliver's arm and practically dragged him from the box. Oliver found himself gently shoved into a secluded nook, away from the other patrons milling about the theater.

"Oliver, listen very carefully," said Alexander, his voice soft but deathly serious. "My sire is attending this performance."

Even though Oliver had been suspecting this the moment he'd seen the strange man, he still felt a spike of panic stab his heart at the confirmation. "Your sire is here?"

"I should have known he'd have interest in this ballet. But he's been so reclusive lately..." Alexander sighed. "But listen. You must follow my instructions exactly. If you do, it's unlikely you'll be harmed."

"I... I understand, master." Oliver's mouth felt dry.

"You must be quiet and obedient. Follow my lead, do not speak unless spoken to, and then, speak with the utmost respect. But you must be honest, even if you think the truth is dangerous. Never lie. He will know. And finally..."

"Finally what, sir?"

"If he takes control of your body, do not resist it."

"Takes control of my body, sir?" Just as Katherine had warned him.

"Do not resist it even slightly. If he seizes control, relax your body and mind and do not fight it. Believe me -- any struggle will only make your lot worse."

He blinked back frightened tears. "I can try, master."

"Good." Alexander put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "While I don't pretend to understand my sire's mind, I do believe no harm will come to you tonight."

"I hope not, master."

"Would you allow me to put your mind at ease so you can enjoy the rest of the performance?"

Oliver couldn't agree fast enough. "Yes, please, sir."

His master leaned over and hummed in his ear, and Oliver could feel his nerves calming, his fears growing foggy and distant.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Next week, Oliver finally gets to meet his master's sire.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme @strawbearydreams

[five-rivers]

My Kingdom of Fish poll fic! Continued from here.

(Also for Dannymay Day 6: Immortal AU, because KoF is one!)

.

But Danny had already started to reach for the badge with the lantern symbol, entranced by its curlicues and the graceful curve of the glass.  The librarian took this as him pointing, and swept all the other badges off the table.  

“So, um,” said Danny, rubbing the back of his neck, “what kind of an alteration are we talking about, here?”  He could practically feel his parents glaring at him, for all that he was a whole dimension away.  

“The lantern is the symbol of light,” said the librarian.  “That’s what it gives you.  Extra light.”

A pretty minor transformation, then, compared to other places he’d been.  “Anything else I should know about?  Side effects?  Library rules?”

“Your Library of Tongues card says you’re a minor.”

“I mean, when I got it, but that was years ago.  I’m over eighteen.”

The librarian looked at him skeptically.  “Chronologically, perhaps.  Board policy restricts minors from accessing age-inappropriate topics.  These topics include, but are not limited to, certain sexual and reproductive material, details of portal mechanics and construction, duplication, decomposition of human bodies, summoning rituals, except for instructions on how to prevent oneself from being summoned, metaphysical or core bonding, except for prevention methods, coming of age rituals, customs, and rites, and any similar rituals restricted to adults.  Do you accept these restrictions?”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to tell if something includes one of those things without looking at it,” said Danny, rocking back slightly.  “Why are portals restricted, anyway?” he asked, echoing a question from his Dad.

“Because they are exceedingly dangerous and liable to end people.  But you won’t need to figure out what is disallowed yourself.”  She held up a roll of stickers.  Most of them were generic circles, but the one on the end was a cute little cluster of stars.  In the center of the largest star, the word ‘MINOR’ was written.  “We add these to minors’ badges.  They’re linked to an effect that will prevent you from entering the relevant areas.”

“Oh, that’s alright, then,” said Danny.  It grated, a little, but he had more or less accepted that ghosts, much like his parents, were never going to see him as a full adult.  

Partially, unfortunately, because he never would be.  

The librarian stuck the sticker on the badge.  “As for other rules,” she began, “common courtesy applies.  No fights.  Capturing pests like dire bookworms is fine.  No damage to the library.  Food items should not leave marked areas.  Do not attempt to remove books from the library.”  She tapped the visitor’s badge against the counter and began to make another note on her pad of paper.  “And be quiet, or the lost ones might take you, I suppose.”

Danny’s eyebrows went up.  “Lost ones?”

“A legend,” said the librarian.  “Every so often, a story circulates about people becoming permanently lost in the lower levels of the library.  I’ve never seen evidence of anything of the sort happening.  We do send out search parties for those guests who fail to leave when their time is up.  Speaking of which, if you manage to get lost, you will be required to take two aids on your next visit.”

The librarian finished writing her note and inserted it into a slot on her desk.  “The copyists’ room has been informed that you will be arriving and your preferences regarding the translation.  They will give you the book you will be translating.”  She held the visitor’s badge out to Danny.  “Clip this to the front of your clothes and try not to lose it.  It’s much more tedious to undo the alterations when you leave if you don’t have it.”

“They don’t just disappear when you leave?” asked Danny.  That was unusual.  Most transformations like this were location-dependent.  

“They do, eventually, but since they aren’t entirely natural, they tend to stick a little more.  So.  Don’t lose the badge.”  She wiggled the badge a little.  

Danny took it and briefly searched for a part of himself that wasn’t covered with equipment and would fit the badge.  It was harder than he’d thought it would be, but he managed.  

The transformation hit almost immediately.  

Most of the glow a ghost produced wasn’t in their skin, but their aura, hovering less than an inch above it.  Danny’s aura flared and billowed out, going from moon-like to a luminous nimbus Danny could probably read by.  

Actually, Danny reflected as his aura stretched out even further, pulling gently but firmly on his core, someone twenty or thirty feet away could read comfortably in this much light.  

His parents exclaimed over the change in brightness and ecto-energy readings, the light no doubt whiting out their video.  

He swayed slightly, and blinked hard as some mechanism in his eyes and perception shifted to accommodate the light.  He reached out to the counter to steady himself, and was surprised when his hand hit not the counter, but the wall.  Somehow, the equipment he had so carefully put on felt loose, precarious, as if he was going to–

At the last minute, he managed to catch the complex camera rig and lower it to the ground.  Then, he decided that sitting down would be good for him, too.  He put his head between his knees as best he could, stripping off a few more pieces of recording equipment to do so, and waited for the waves of dizziness to pass.  

Finally, he looked up.  He could see down the long reception room as easily as before, but it was much better illuminated now.  He held his hand up in front of himself.  The first thing he noticed was how light seemed to trail after it, a sort of neon afterimage, almost like something in a video game.  

Then, he noticed how small it was.  

He jumped to his feet, then off them, so he could properly grasp at the counter.  He only vaguely noticed that his usual jumpsuit had been replaced with loose pants and a smock that fell to his knees.  His hands left glowing prints on the wood.  

“You didn’t tell me I was going to shrink!”  he hissed.  

The librarian held up her hands.  “Usually, it’s not quite so severe.”  Her eyes practically twinkled.  “But you must admit, that it is much easier to tell who is a minor at a glance, this way.”

Danny huffed, drew his eyes down over himself again, then deliberately flew in front of the cameras, light trailing behind him, lingering in the air like ink in water.  “How old do I look right now?” he asked his parents.  

“Oh, dear,” said Maddie.  

“I was never good with ages,” said Jack.  

“Five, I think.  You looked like this when you started school.  Danny, maybe you should come home.”

“I already made the deal to translate, backing out would be bad form.”  He looked around at the equipment he’d shed during his transformation.  “I’m probably not going to be able to bring most of this, though…  It won’t fit, and my arms just aren’t big enough to grab on to everything.”  Although, he could probably drag it around with telekinesis.  That required an awful lot of concentration, though, and he wasn’t sure he could manage it.

“You can leave what you can’t take in here,” said the librarian.  “We have a coat room for just such a purpose.”

Well, that was one problem solved.  Now he just had to decide what he could take.  The Fenton Phones, of course, since they still fit alright in his ears, but what else?

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Soldier Queen (Post-Galbatorix death short, to be rewritten later)

(A/N: Who the fuck brings a crown with them when they're leading an invasion?? Orrin, probably.

This will be rewritten once I get that other story I've been muttering about finished so the flow and characterization is maintained from that. Also, no, I am not going back to check Inheritance to see who was at that meeting and what went down. I'm on a canon chewing fest. aka I chew the book if it gets too close!)

~~~

SOLDIER QUEEN

“I heard Queen Islanzadí was badly injured.” Orik braced his hands on the table, the chest he stood on creaking slightly. “Is she–?”

Arya tucked her scorched helmet under her arm, looking oddly uncomfortable. “No. No, she is alive.” She shifted again, finally settling on placing the headpiece on the table in front of her. “Islanzadí is alive, but she is incapacitated for the time being. The healers have placed her in a coma for the next few days.” 

Eragon noticed that the pack strapped to her back was effectively bolted to her armor, moving with her as she shuffled her feet and looked down at the map. He knew without a doubt that the rescued egg was inside the bag, the woman’s arm flickering for the briefest moment as she moved faster than he could see to touch the clamped strap at her shoulder. 

Orrin barely disguised his disgruntled huff into his goblet as a half hearted cough. “And we are to simply take your word as hers, ambassador? Yet again.” The room dropped a few degrees as the Surdan king put his wine down. “This is a meeting of leaders and monarchs. Lord Daethdr–”

“Is a member of the Lords of House and an advisor, not a monarch.” Arya cut Orrin off. All heads snapped around at the change in her voice. That was unusual. That was not the voice she used when interjecting about military strategy. That was entirely different sound of power, far harsher, far hotter. 

This? This was cold. This was porcelain coated steel brick, immovable and lacking any hand or footholds to any who would try to subvert it. 

Outside, Saphira shuffled her wings, pleased at the elf’s quick grasp of control. ‘She’s taking to this very well.’

‘Taken to what? Are you two hiding something from me again?’

“Lord Däthedr was Islanzadí’s right hand.” Orrin sputtered. “Is he not the second in line to–”

Bright emerald fire killed Orrin’s words in his throat as Arya locked eyes with the petulant monarch. “Lord Däthedr has informed me that Queen Islanzadí’s living will states that should she be killed or incapacitated in this battle then the title of Queen Regent transfers to me, effective immediately.” The settle into an open stanced at ease, arms behind her back, seemed more habit than anything. Yet in that moment, Eragon found it to exude a power he was not accustomed to feeling rolling off his mate. “As of approximately thirty minutes ago, I have accepted my position and now hold title of Keeper of the Knotted Throne. In everything but literal name, I am queen of the elven nation.”

The room was deadly silent. 

Orik cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll be the first to say congratulations, Arya. Even though I know the role isn’t quite what you enjoy, I know you’ll fill it well.” He cleared his throat again. “That being said, I’m not quite sure how this is proven, considering King Orrin’s insistence. The object of power, like mine helm and hammer, is the Knotted Throne itself, is it not? Do you have any paper or missive from the Queen or Däthedr to prove your new station?” 

Eragon bit his tongue. Orik was simply diffusing the situation as best he could. Orrin would not back down, that was certain, so if Arya had any way to put it to rest….

“Ah.” Arya looked down once more. “That is correct, King Orik. Our object of monarchy is the throne itself, but…” A spark seemed to ignite in the elf’s eyes. “We do have another, more recent one. Begun in my father’s time as king.”

And at that, Arya unzipped her heavy combat coat and lifted the left side. “If you would, please?”

A white head appeared from one of the large pockets lining the inside of the garment. Eragon further bit his tongue, Saphira’s mental laughter peeling in his brain, as his mate reached in and pulled a somewhat ruffled, somewhat still asleep Blagden from her coat. Bleary eyed, the white raven flailed his talons about until he found Arya’s offered wrist and then transferred to her shoulder.

“This is Blagden. He is a very sentient and very special raven that once saved Evandar’s life, and was gifted with limited clairvoyance, true consciousness, and immortal life in repayment.”

At mention of his gifts, Blagden shook himself awake and spread his wings to their full extent. For the briefest of moments, haloed by golden, dust laden sunlight and framed by the resplendent wings of white and bloodstained red, Eragon saw Arya as what she was in that moment. Every bit a warrior queen, trapped halfway between soldier and monarch. 

And then she reached up and smoothed the ruffled feathers at Blagden’s forehead, and Arya was simply…Arya again. His mate. The woman he loved and the woman who loved him. Tired and bloodsplattered and armored and suffering through this horribly necessary meeting like all the rest. 

“Blagden has become an advisor to the elven throne. As King Orik, Eragon, Saphira and Brom can all attest, he does not perch on anyone beyond that who rules the elves.” 

Garzvog stared. To be fair, most of the gathered leaders did.

“...That is a bird.” The Kull finally stated.

Arya nodded solemnly. “He is a cranky bird.”

[callmewrinkles3]

This Love - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An escape to Perth for a week helps Dan and Em to realise what they want. But they each have a secret to tell that could rip them apart before they can begin to fix each other.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy loss, retirement talk, smut (piv sex, fingering, light choking)

A/N: A day later than planned, but the continuation of what’s going on to our babes in 2022! This part deals with some pretty heavy themes, so look after yourselves. Take this as a present for the 300 followers. Hope you like it and lots of love! 💜

June 2022

When Dan helped Em to bed that Monday night she didn’t really sleep. The fog that had clouded her thoughts and judgment basically since she’d left London was lifting and it was like coming back to 4K from an old VHS tape. The way she’d buried her thoughts and self in anything except thinking about what happened, the weight she’d lost, the way she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She’d buried her head in the sand and hadn’t realised what was going on until it was too late. She didn’t want to be like this anymore.

Having Dan there at her side helped. They’d decided to delay their conversation for the summer break, booking flights to LA to leave soon after the race there. It was a week talking about everything and building their relationship and a week of wine tours to celebrate her birthday. She knew it would be hard and they’d both struggle at points but it needed to happen. They were committed. They were going to tell the world about their relationship in Baku. It was going to work out for them. It had to.

Em tried to push the thoughts swirling in her brain aside but it didn’t work, her sleep fitful. She woke up to Dan kissing her forehead and she smiled up at her boyfriend. He was right there beside her and that wasn’t changing. He wasn’t leaving her. She could do this. She could talk to him about anything.

Grace and Joe were staying in Monaco and using it as a base to visit family in Italy while Em and Dan were packing for three weeks away, from Perth to Baku to Montreal. She had her packing list on her phone and Dan pulled it out of her hand.

“What happened to your screen?” He ran his finger along the broken glass, a plastic screen protector barely holding it together.

“It broke when I was away.”

“How?” She blinked and took a breath before answering. It was probably the most embarrassed she felt about how she acted when she was gone.

“I threw it against a wall.” That was a story for another day.

“We’ll get you a new one. It’s not safe to use like this.”

“Danny, it’s fine. I can get the screen changed.”

“No. Baby you’re gonna hurt yourself on it. You’ve had it nearly three years, you need an upgrade anyway.”

“Fine.” He kissed her and she smiled, not truly annoyed at him as he went to the bathroom. She was filling the case mostly for Baku and Montreal, she had clothes in Perth still. They were old but they’d work for while she was there.

Dan came out of the bathroom with the two toiletry bags, passing her the purple one she put in her checked bag and the clear one that went into her hand luggage. Em smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I put a box of tampons in too. It’s about time you’ll need them, right?” The casual way he said it made her want to smile, but it nearly broke her at the same time. She had to tell him everything.

“Things shifted when I was away. But better safe than sorry.” They finished backing and Dan held her for a few moments as she got herself ready to leave. Final hugs went to everyone else before they went to Nice airport to start the trek to Perth.

Dan held her hand the entire way in the car, and for once they decided to take advantage of the VIP service the airport had. Usually they didn’t bother, but today it was worth it. They were escorted through security and to the lounge to sit and wait for their flight to Dubai. It was packed, a side effect of it being the day after the Grand Prix. Most of the other drivers who didn’t live in Monaco had already left the principality but they were ignored by most of the clients there. Another Formula One driver wasn’t a big deal. They spotted Kevin with his wife and daughter sitting a few tables away, smiling and waving to them.

As she watched Laura sit in Louise’s arms, babbling away, Em felt another pang of longing and loss hit her. The memories of that day four weeks ago when she realised her planned but delayed trip to the pharmacy for a test wasn’t needed anymore. That the suspicions she’d had but was too afraid to confirm for a few weeks were right but she was too late. Sobbing on her childhood bedroom floor clutching her knees to her chest because she was in the worst physical and emotional pain she could think of. She was losing the last piece of Dan she thought she’d ever have.

He needed to know. She needed to tell him and it couldn’t wait until August. It couldn’t wait for months because, selfishly, she couldn’t live with the guilt of not telling him if it was what would break them in the end. The internet had told her that it wasn’t her fault. That losing a pregnancy before twelve weeks was common, that late periods because of stress were normal. That running your pill together for three months and then not taking it for two could throw your cycle into chaos.

She had no true proof of what had happened apart from her symptoms and suspicions but it was enough for her to know. The way the constant exhaustion had eased, how the tenderness in her chest calmed within hours. The nausea she’d had stopping even though she didn’t want to eat. The nearly two week long period when before she was ever on the pill she’d been like clockwork.

Em knew the truth of what she’d lost. And she knew telling Dan was going to hurt both of them. Now that she could think clearly there was no alternative to telling him. She should have tried to get in touch no matter what to tell him and he deserved to know now.

She was quiet on the flight to Dubai, both of them taking a nap through it. Em woke to Dan’s hand on hers, his arm stretched awkwardly over the screen between them so he could hold onto her. He loves her. That was what could get her through until they were alone.

Arriving in Dubai meant that they were escorted to the first class lounge to wait out the three hours of their connection. As they got to the door Em stopped dead in her tracks. Dan was pulled back by his hand because of it and he watched her stare at the door.

“Emmy? Is everything ok?” He asked as she shook her head and bit back the tears she wanted to let out.

“We haven’t been here since last year.” She could see the moment the realisation hit him of their last time in the lounge together. When they said goodbye and he was going to Perth for New Years and she had to go back to London. The beginning of the end of everything.

“We’re going to find a table and sit, ok? Just you and me and some food. That’s all, Baby girl.”

“Ok.”

He found them a seat on the opposite side of the lounge to last time, both of them slipping into seats. Food was brought to them that Em didn’t want to eat but made herself take some bites. Dan’s arm was around her as he held her close and pushed kisses against her head. Fuck the rules, they needed this closeness.

The second flight from Dubai to Perth was eleven long hours as they fought to stay awake to try stave off jet lag. It was caffeine and watching films together, pressing the play button on their screens so they could watch them at the same time. The flight passed slowly but she held Dan’s hand whenever she could. They stayed connected like that as they got off the plane and she put her carry on over her arm to go through immigration and customs. They only let go when she had to join the non Australian line at immigration. Dan watched and waited for her as he was already through.

“What’s the reason for your visit?”

“We’re seeing my boyfriend’s family. I’ve only seen them once in the last two years and I had to leave Melbourne pretty quickly when I did. We have a spare week so wanted to see them.”

“Is your boyfriend Australian? Is he travelling with you?”

“Yes he is. He’s already through if you look behind you.”

Even in a hoodie and jeans to beat the Aussie winter Dan’s smile was infectious. It was the same grin as on nearly every Optus ad in the country and Em could tell the exact moment he was recognised.

“Oh, of course. Enjoy being back.”

She rarely used Dan’s celebrity for her own good, if ever, but it was worth it now to get through without extra questioning. Instead they collected the bags and went through quarantine with a smile and handing over the entry cards. The treats that they’d brought back were approved and just over an hour after landing they were in the familiar surrounds of Perth international arrivals. Joe had given them the keys to his car so they didn’t need to rent one. Instead they piled their bags into the boot to go straight to the farm. It wasn’t too cold for Em but Dan hated the thirteen degree weather and put the heat on as soon as they got into the car.

Their original plan had been to get to Michelle’s from the airport to see everyone but they couldn’t face it. Em was desperate for the hugs from her niece and nephew, for Michelle to wrap her in the big sister hugs that felt so good, but she couldn’t keep her emotions together if she saw them. It took all of three minutes to choose takeout to order on the way home to the farm. They sat at the table as Em nibbled the pizza she’d gotten while Dan ate chicken and rice that mostly fit his race diet. Once they were finished they curled into bed, wrapped around each other.

They lay there in the dark, quiet room, not sleeping or speaking. Em took a deep breath and let out a sigh as everything was screaming at her to speak.

“Penny for them?” Dan asked and she blinked, looking up at him and realising that this was the moment she had to say everything out loud for the first time. “There’s been something on your mind since you came back, right? What’s going on Wrinkles? You know you cal always tell me anything.”

“I’m afraid if I tell you then you’ll hate me.” His arms tightened against her while she closed her eyes and felt a kiss pressed to her forehead. He was there. He wouldn’t leave.

“I can’t hate you. I promise, Baby. I could never hate you. I love you. If you want to wait we can until we’re in LA and we have our talk. It’s whatever you w—“

“No. I need to tell you now.” Em pressed a kiss against his chest, holding onto him so tightly that she thought she might break him for a moment. “I…Fuck. When I was in Liverpool I was late. I was really, really late Danny.”

His sharp intake of breath was enough to tell her he’d heard what she said, but he stayed quiet and pushed his lips to her head until she was ready to keep speaking. Em took a couple of quiet breaths before continuing.

“I had a plan. I was gonna take a test to confirm, and when it came up positive I was gonna call you after the race. You had a right to know, y’know? I wouldn’t have kept that from you. I swear, Dan, I never could have done that. But the day I had the courage to buy it and take it I wasn’t late anymore.” Trying to get the words out felt like a clog in her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she forced herself to push everything else out. “Remember when we were here for lockdown and how I was when things got too much? I was like that and I was alone and in pain and I was so sad. I didn’t know I wanted a baby. But I really wanted your baby. And then I had one and I lost our baby and it’s my fault and I’m so sorry, Danny. I’m so, so, so sorry for losing them. I’m sorry.”

Her sobs overtook her but Dan sat up in the bed and pulled her to him. She didn’t know how they ended up like that but she was in his lap. His arms wrapped around her as he rubbed her back, soothing her and trying to calm her tears. She’d lost their baby and the only things going through her head was that it was her fault and if she’d looked after herself and not let herself be so upset and angry then things would have been different. It was her fault. It had to be her fault, it couldn’t be anyone else’s fault because she was the one who couldn’t keep their baby safe. As her tears began to slow and the wracking sobs eased she could hear Dan’s constant murmurs while she calmed down.

“How can I blame you, my Emmy? It’s not your fault and I will never, ever say it is. You’re so fucking brave, Baby. You’re so brave for getting through this and doing it by yourself and I wasn’t there to help you and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so, so sorry that you didn’t think you could ask for help. I’d have been there in a minute, fuck everything else. Nothing else matters except you and me, Baby. You are wonderful and strong and brave and it’s going to happen for us. When we’re ready to have a kid we’ll get to. I promise you. You’re going to be ok. We’re going to get through this, you and me, like always.”

She clung to him as he spoke, a weight lifting off her shoulders. The miscarriage had been in the back of her mind ever since it happened, even when she hadn’t realised it was there. She’d been ignoring it since that day, nobody knew. But it was real. They’d lost their baby and she had hurt so badly because they had but they were going to be ok. They were going to make it.

“You back with me?” Dan asked as she stopped sobbing and he wiped at her eyes. His thumb wiped the tears away and all Em could see when she looked up at him was love. He loved her. Even after all this, even after her failure, he still loved her.

“Yeah I am. I’m not ok. I’m really not doing ok Danny.” They were some of the hardest words she’d had to say.

“I love you so fucking much. So much. I always knew you were brave anyway. Anyone who’s seen the crap said in the paddock knows that about you. You are amazing and wonderful and kind. We both know this is the kind of thing so many people have nightmares about. And you, my amazing and strong girlfriend, went through this on your own.” A watery smile went across her face as Dan pecked her lips quickly. “I’m sad we’re never going to meet that baby. I’m so sad we won’t get to see them grow up. But the worst part is that you went through that without anyone to support you. I’d have been there in a heartbeat if I knew. When did it happen?”

“The week of the race in Miami.” The pain was clear on both their faces. “I nearly texted Michael so many times. There was a photo of you—“

“The blonde who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah. I saw that photo the day after it happened. Started. I guess. I tried writing and deleting a text a hundred times to ask him if you’d moved on but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know.”

“Oh Emmy, baby. I was never going to move on from you. Ever.”

She believed him. She believed every word he said, every moment of them together. And that realisation made her curl against him even tighter.

“I’m so tired, Danny. I’m so, so tired.”

“You just sleep. We’ll see the kids in the morning before they go to school and we can pick them up after to bring them to dinner. Sound good?”

“That sounds really good.”

It was probably too early to go to sleep but for the first time in a week Em slept well with Dan’s arms tightly wrapped around her. She woke up to him shifting in his sleep with his lips against her forehead as he slept. She smiled as she woke and kept her head on his chest before Dan’s alarm went off to wake them.

“You up?” He asked as Em twisted her neck to loop up at him again.

“Yeah. You?”

“Just about. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She let out a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding as Dan caught her in a kiss. He grinned against her lips before letting go and watching her for a moment.

“I’ll put coffee on, we can get breakfast out later?”

“Perfect.”

They were able to take their time getting ready. Dan watched as Em got dressed in clothes she’d kept there, putting her jeans on and pulling the belt tight against her. It was an old belt but it was in a new notch. The jeans that she’d owned since the Chinese Grand Prix were loose around her legs and it felt wrong. She was physically and mentally exhausted and worn out and desperately needed to relax and spend time with Dan. He held her hand as they got into the car, Dan the one who drove back to Michelle’s home.

They arrived just in time as Michelle hurried the kids out the door to go to school. Isaac started asking who was in his grandpa’s car but when Em opened the passenger door and stepped out there were two excited yells as they sprinted to her. The force nearly knocked her backwards into the side of the car but Dan held her arm so she could keep on her feet. Bending down for hugs Isabella wrapped her arms around Em’s neck to be lifted for a cuddle and Isaac followed suit.

She shouldn’t have been able to lift them up. Not with how tired she felt, not with how weak she felt. But she made herself stand up with them in her arms. Dan’s hands were supporting her lift and helped her stay upright as she did, grabbing onto them and holding close. Michelle ran towards them in surprise and once the kids were standing on solid ground Em got a hug from her too. She was home and in her sister’s arms and even with how awful her body felt this was good.

Michelle had to go back to work but they both promised to be back for when the kids finished school to take the family out for dinner. But Dan and Em ended up in a hipster breakfast place Dan found online, sitting next to each other in the booth. She sat there with her caramel latte and avocado toast with a poached egg and listened to Dan’s accent get thicker the more he spoke to people. They could both tell he’d been recognised but the nice thing about Perth was that people left him alone there.

“I think this is technically our first date,” Em murmured and watched as he frowned and thought.

“Fuck. You’re right. I always figured our first official date would be something fancy. Bring you somewhere you deserve.”

“We’re sitting in Perth having breakfast together. It’s the first of many.”

“Yeah it is.” He grinned and gripped her hand while they finished what they were eating before leaving the cafe.

Em just followed Dan down the semi familiar streets. So much had changed in the two years since she’d been in Perth, stores closed and new ones taking their place. They held hands in the weak winter sun, still warm on her skin compared to England. Dan walked like a man on a mission until they arrived at their destination.

It was the Apple Store, quiet for the Thursday morning as they arrived. They went to the phones immediately, Em looking at Dan.

“You need a new phone, Baby. One that isn’t going to cut your hand. Which size do you need for everything?”

“Danny I can get this fixed.”

“Please? Fresh start. New phone, new iPad. You need a new iPad for work anyway, it was upgrade time. So we’ll get it all now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, both of them smiling as they separated from their first kiss in public. Em was still nervous about it and would have rathered just get her phone fixed but she knew what Dan was like when he got an idea in his head. So she held his hand as he explained exactly what they wanted.

“So it’s two 13 Pro Max phones, each one terabyte. Can we get a gold and a silver one? And an eleven inch iPad Pro with as much memory as you have.” Dan put the other accessories he’d picked up on the table beside the sales assistant, two cases for the iPad - one with a keyboard and one without - and two phone cases. Em’s was purple leather, Dan’s a bright blue silicone. She felt overwhelmed with the amount of money Dan was spending on her but just gripped his hand as he put it through his card. It was for them. Them as a couple, nobody else. It was worth it.

Instead of going back to the farm to come back to town they found a coffee shop to set up their new purchases. It felt a little ridiculous but Em loved it as Dan pulled her in for a selfie as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and set it as his Lock Screen. This was real. It was them.

“We’ll talk to Blake in Baku about when you start coming back to work? You left things easy for him to pick up so if you want some time you’ve got it.”

“What are you talking about, Dan?” She looked at him carefully. She’d quit her job. She didn’t have anything to go back to.

“I assumed you’d want to come back to work? If you don’t that’s fine. If you need time or anything it’s totally fine. But it’s there for you.”

“What about your new assistant?”

“What new assistant?”

It made the tears want to come out again. They hadn’t replaced her. She thought people were just keeping her replacement away but they hadn’t. They still wanted her. They always had wanted her and she’d walked away.

“Em. Emmy, look right at me ok? You and me.” She blinked the tears back to stare at Dan as he squeezed her hand. “We couldn’t even think about replacing you. Never. You’re right here and not going anywhere. And if you want to come back you’ll slot back in. If you don’t want to come back to work that’s also fine. It’s up to you.”

“I didn’t think I could come back.” The words were slow to leave her mouth, each one an effort as her panic started to recede.

“We wanted you back as soon as we could find you, Baby.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For loving me.”

“Always.”

Dinner at Michelle’s was fun. The kids enjoyed seeing their Auntie Emmy and Uncle Daniel when it was least expected, and the idea of a sleepover for two whole nights was exciting. Most of it was casual until Michelle half cornered Em in the kitchen.

“Are you ok?” She asked and Em shook her head.

“I…no. The last two months haven’t been good. But we’re getting through it.” Michelle wrapped her in a hug and it felt so, so good. They were close together for a moment and Michelle kissed her cheek.

“If you need anything we’re right here. No matter what’s happening between you and Dan we’re here. Especially if my idiot brother needs a reality check.”

“Don’t call my boyfriend an idiot. But no, it was both of us. We’re fixing it. It’ll take time.”

“Still, if either of you need anything. We might be the other side of the world but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks. For all of it.”

They left before it got too late, the two of them exhausted from jet lag and a busy day. Dan navigated the turns back to the farm easily, his hand on Em’s thigh. When they got inside she sat on the couch, opening the iPad to set it up.

“I haven’t looked at my emails since I left Melbourne. It’s going to be scary to look at, isn’t it?” As she finished speaking there was a crash, Dan smashing a glass that had been in his hand. “Danny?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You haven’t looked at your email since then?”

“No. Why?”

“Fuck. I thought you knew.” He sat beside her and took her hand, Em staring at him as he did. “Two days before you came back I sent you an email. I…I’m retiring at the end of the year.”

“What?” The words were going around her head. Retiring. Dan. It didn’t feel right.

“Racing’s taken everything from me. It nearly took you from me. I can’t do this again. I can’t, Baby girl. I can’t do it. I’m not happy anymore, I hate this team, I hate the way they treat you and act about you. How they don’t listen to me and keep blaming me when it’s the fucking car. So I’m out at the end of the year.”

“Don’t do this for me. If you start doing this because of me you’re going to regret it.” The naked fear that he’d start hating her because of this decision filled Em. She didn’t know what she’d do if he hated her.

“It’s not just you. I don’t—“

“Do you still love racing?”

“Yeah. But not with McLaren. Not in this car. It’s fucking toxic.” She squeezed his hand and kissed him carefully.

“Then we’ll find a team for you. But don’t retire like this. Don’t let them chase you out of the sport you’ve loved. You’re the king of fucking Monaco, Danny. You’re an eight times Grand Prix winner, and you haven’t bottled multiple podiums the way your teammate has. I believe in you. So if you want to retire because it’s time then do it. If it’s like Kimi and you’ve done what you want to do. But not because you think it’s your only option. Don’t do that.”

His expression changed and Dan pulled her close. Kisses pushed against her head and she smiled up at him to kiss him properly.

“Do you really mean that? Mind another couple of years of travelling around the world?”

“I mean every word. This is your time, Danny. And in a couple of years we’ll move back and it’s my time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He didn’t respond, instead lifting Em up and carrying her to the bedroom carefully. Her legs wrapped around his waist while he did, arms holding onto his neck for dear life. But she knew Dan wouldn’t drop her. She trusted him not to.

When they made it to the bedroom it was fumbling fingers, both trying to get the other naked and hold on at the same time. She gasped as Dan undid the clasp on her bra, his hands cupping her boobs for the first time in too long. He lavished kisses against them until he was interrupted by Em taking his shirt off, pulling her too him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She moaned as Dan’s fingers slid through her folds, feeling where she was wet and slowly playing with her to make sure she was fully ready for sex. He held onto her cheek with the other hand. They each pushed soft kisses to their faces while they got ready, but finally Em positioned herself and slid onto Dan. The stretch as he entered her was perfect, everything she didn’t know she’d missed.

Every time Em tried to get a rhythm going Dan held her at her hip, slowly thrusting. It was shallow and didn’t feel like him, didn’t feel the way they always had sex. It just felt wrong and that terrified her. From the first time they’d slept together they’d always managed to make sex work. And now it felt wrong and if this was a sign of things to come then they wouldn’t be able to save themselves. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not after everything they were fighting for.

“You can go like normal.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It was like a punch in the gut but Em held firm and looked at him. Her hand caught his chin and made him look into her eyes.

“I need my Danny back. I need the Danny who doesn’t treat me like I’m about to break back, the one who knows exactly what we need. We know each other so well, we know what we have. If we’re scared of each other this isn’t going to work for us. Baby, please. I love you and I believe in you.”

Em didn’t know what possessed her to do it but she took Dan’s hand from her cheek and carefully pressed kisses to each digit. The final one went to the centre of his palm. Watching Dan’s face carefully she pulled his hand from her lips and pushed it to the centre of her neck.

It had been their thing for so long she’d forgotten how it started. Her riding Dan, his hand on her throat controlling how she moved. She trusted him with all of it, with her. It was the ultimate way of showing how she felt.

“I love you and I trust you. Let me feel you, Baby.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

After the first proper thrust Em didn’t remember much else from the sex they had. She knew she came more than once because Dan would never let her be otherwise, and she knew his back was covered in scratch marks from her nails. Her boobs had love bites marked into them to mark her as Dan’s. The small spots where he gripped her hips to bounce her up and down would darken to fingertip bruises as well. There was a hickey on Dan’s collarbone that she knew Michael would kill her for but she didn’t care. It would fade.

But it felt right. It felt good. It was tiring and she was sore but Dan was all around her and it was everything. He brought her into the bathroom and ran the bath, helping her in and settle beside him. He even remembered a hair tie so her hair didn’t get wet.

“We’re going to make it.” Em said it determinedly, her voice quiet in the room. Dan pulled her even closer as she did.

“We’re gonna make it, Emmy. You and me, like we promised.”

“Yeah. We are.”

Dan helped her out of the bath and they got ready for bed, curling up with Em lying over him. A day ago she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, but now it felt like a new life for them.

“Ready for a weekend of chaos? I thought we could do the Zoo with the kids on Saturday, and Sunday bring them to the cinema and send them home hyper on sugar. Plus they want to spend time with you.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. We’re lucky to have them.” She could feel exhaustion hitting and kissed Dan’s chest once. “Gonna go sleep now. Love you.”

“Love you too, Emmy. Sleep well.”

For the first time in too many months, Em fell into a dreamless sleep with her boyfriend’s arms tight around her.

Taglist: @dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora

[doors-to-infinity]

Danny Phantom x One Piece crossover

Tucker and Technus have been working on teleportation technology. Technus gets to show off his skills; Tucker gets to show off his skills; they're making something for Team Phantom; make Technus happy; they can nerd out about technology.

In breaks, they talk about the book Tucker's mom has gifted him. About the intertwined history of weaving and coding, about the many black women who made the Moon Landing possible with their work and who Technus admires to this day, etc.

Skulker breaks their latest break because he wants to steal the device for his own ends. Become the best hunter there ever was in the Ghost Zone. He's been waiting until they've come far enough.

It's not finished. Technus, irritated when Skulker refuses to listen and wants to steal from them, gets into an argument and a physical fight. Tucker barely saves the device from being blown to smitherens, which would rip open random portals sucking in everybody.

Unfortunately, that still happens.

Thankfully, the suit he's wearing - Danny insisted on it for Tucker's protection; that it looks like a spacesuit is a bonus - protects him from most of the effects. Tucker barely hears Skulker's yelling cut off as the portal closes on him over the ringing in his ears. He's... somewhere.

At first he thinks it's Technus' lair and he's remodelled because of the various bits of technology surrounding him. But no. No, he knows how Technus works and this isn't what he does.

Before he can make sense of it, men in black suits spot and hunt him. In his panic, he doesn't realize that some of the humans hunting him are unusually tall or powerful. Tucker's on, "I need to flee and survive, NOW."

Just as he's about to activate the device again, which UH-OH is sparking already, something hits it. It stays in his hand, but there's a flash of light, and he's gone from the island that he'll later learn is called Egghead in this world. The World Government agents curse, wondering who the intruder was since their suit covered them up entirely. Or what kind of technology they used.

Somewhere in the East Blue, another flash of light deposits Tucker in a forest at the edge of the sea. He's unconscious and unhurt. The teleportation device's a broken mess now.

His PDA flashes in his bag, next to the gift book from his mom. Somebody with white hair and dark glasses appear on screen, trying to say something, before the screen goes dark again.

---

Back home, Team Phantom is futely looking for Tucker and Technus. They received a help signal but Technus' lair - damaged - is empty. Skulker runs away under Danny's fury who has guessed correctly that he's responsible for what happened.

Not even Clockwork knows where the two of them have gone. The world the unstable device teleported them through those portals is outside of the Infinite Realms. This is the last we see the Danny Phantom side for a while.

---

So, Tucker and Technus are stuck in the One Piece world for a while. They'll learn that their best bet to repair the teleporter is Egghead, but it will be a while before they discover that information. And they have to go the long way through the Grandline to get there.

[harbo-urr]

Alhaitham's and Kaveh's relationship in the Sumeru arhon quest: new perspective (for me, maybe for you too!).

Oh it will be long...

It started with my short thoughts about their first on-screen dialog and how it feels different now compared to a year ago, but then spiralled into me re-watching the entire Sumeru archon quest to properly analyse Alhaitham's hidden struggles during it and Kaveh's (not big but) actual plot relevance.

Disclaimer: I'm aware that English VAs were way more emotional then Chinese, especially in 3.2, but, for the sake of having the information to analyse, lets believe that at least the official eng text of their interactions is more or less correct... (I'm sorry I only know English and other languages most likely have translation errors as well anyway).

I'm also assuming that you've read their character stories and know their more deep personalities, not just "cold smart guy and artsy broke guy".

Anyway, I hope someone will find the analyses below as entertaining as I do.

1. Kaveh and Alhaitham: what we see during their first on-screen interaction.

Now, let's all time travel into the day when the last part of Sumeru's quest dropped. These sweet days... Version 3.2, two versions before we got Alhaitham as a playable character and four versions before Kaveh. By this point we've already known a little information about Alhaitham, mostly from the archon quest itself, and next to nothing about Kaveh.

Well, we knew some info, but it was mostly leaks and speculations, nothing more than "a genius architect who lives with Alhaitham because he is broke".

Now, if you didn't read the leaks and just carefully played the quest, you could actually catch some phrases here and there that implied that Alhaitham lives with someone before it was openly confirmed, but again, it's not specific at all. That is why our first meeting with a brand new sexy blond boy was so extreme in all ways. It was beautiful, emotional, entertaining and... extremely toxic. Both Alhaitham and Kaveh behaved surprisingly aggressive (calmer in Chinese but still more negative then what we usually see now). It was fun to watch, and made a lot of people including me really interested in those two from the get go.

But re-watching this dialog now after almost a year felt... Weird. Yes sure, they bicker, it's their thing, but if you compare any other scene with them later it's not nearly as intense... especially on Alhaitham's side (yes, even if you don't listen to va and just read the lines).

So it got me thinking. Why did Alhaitham behave like that? Was it a random writing decision for the drama effect? Or was there something more going on that I didn't understand?

After going through everything from start to finish I believe that yes, there was. But I'll need go through a lot of content recap to fully explain what I mean.

2. First aka "the first on-screen" aka "Where were you when Sumeru needed you most!?" dialog

It is essentially our first glimpse of Kaveh, which we catch in the library on the search for Alhaitham.

Kaveh has just returned to the city so he has no idea what is going on. The shown interaction starts with Kaveh demanding Alhaitham to put his book away and explain what is happening at the Academia. The fact that Kaveh is already pretty irritated when we first see him tricks us into thinking that he's a short-tempered overly dramatic guy, which is...

Well, partly true, but having already experienced how sweet Kaveh actually is we can see through that and realize that Alhaitham most likely was ignoring Kaveh's questions for some time now, and that's why our Kaveh was already on edge when we started. Already weird and we're just at the first line.

After that they bicker a little, Kaveh again asks about the Academia, on which Alhaitham answers: "Oh? I thought you would already knew the inside story."

Then they bicker again (2) and Alhaitham goes hard on Kaveh here. He even agrees with Kaveh that he doesn't say anything nice about him, because "anyone who knows you as well as I do would do the same". DAMN, Alhaitham, that's brutal even for you, why are you so mad, is something bothering you? Oh well..

Then they bicker again (3) and Alhaitham proposes Kaveh to move out of his house, but Kaveh ignores it and tries asking about the Academia again. Alhaitham ignores it as well and says "Forget what's going on with the Academia, haven't you been busy with your construction project?".

Kaveh doesn't want to answer this question and says that he's "getting angry just thinking about it" (worth noting). Kaveh then wants to change the subject again, but Alhaitham doesn't give up and asks about Kaveh's project again ("Where were you when Sumeru needed you most?").

Then they bicker again (4) and Kaveh leaves to ask around.

Huh, that was heated...

Lets do a little bit of unpacking.

So, Kaveh wanted to know more about the Academia and Alhaitham was constantly changing the subject. It can be read as Alhaitham mocking Kaveh just for the sake of it, but if we pay a little more attention to what Alhaitham is saying every time he interrupts Kaveh, it becomes more interesting.

1) "Oh? I thought you would already knew the inside story."

2) "Forget what's going on with the Academia, haven't you been busy with your construction project?"

3) "Where were you when Sumeru needed you most?"

Each time Alhaitham changes the subject, he talks about Kaveh being away for the time of the quest. Let's remember the golden rule of miscommunication conflicts: to understand what actually bothers your opponent you need to spot a repetitive theme in their words. And Alhaitham has a pretty clear pattern. Interesting.

But let's move on to the next dialog.

3. Second aka "second on-screen" aka "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" dialog

Kaveh returns after asking around and confronts Alhaitham about it ("WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?") (just a funny line). After some bickering (5) Alhaitham agrees to finally tell him what happened. He mentions that Kshahrewar sage was a part of conspiracy as well on which Kaveh reacts surprised and says "...could this be why they sent me out on a project?". However Alhaitham replies that it's just a coincidence and proceeds to suddenly go hard on Kaveh again, saying "whatever you were doing won't have any significant impact now or in times to come" (auch, Alhaitham, auch). Then they bicker again (6) and the dialog ends.

This interaction is more relevant to the "Kaveh plot relevance" section, but the important things for now are:

Kaveh: "...could this be why they sent me out on a project?"

Alhaitham: "I think its just a coincidence ... whatever you were doing won't have any significant impact now or in times to come."

And why is it important?

I find the flow of this whole conversation to be very weird, since it goes "confrontation - agreement - information share - speculation - confrontation". In other words, first Alhaitham doesn't want to talk, but Kaveh persuades him, learns about the sage, brings up his mission in the desert, and Alhaitham returns to the confrontation mode again.

It can be interpreted as Alhaitham just using every opportunity to disagree with Kaveh just cause, but at the same time his words sours exactly after Kaveh talks about him being missing from the quest. Coincidence? I don't think so.

All these little things got me thinking. Why is Kaveh's absence so triggering for Alhaitham? Sure they're close or whatever, but they both value their freedom very highly and it's probably not too rare for them to disappear for a day or two for work. Why is it such a big deal now?

But then I also remembered that Kaveh, basically the only family Alhaitham has (yes I call people you willingly live with a family, its my life experience), went missing from home exactly when the fishy stuff at the Academia started resurfacing. And he was gone for a long time, at least for the duration of the quest, which is about two in game weeks.

Even if Alhaitham is not a very emotional person, he still values family, home, routine and comfort very highly. So, in theory, the sudden empty house should have affected him in some way, right? That's how I decided to check Alhaitham's behaviour during the archon quest and it was.. interesting.

4. Alhaitham's side of the Sumeru quest, with me fillng in the gaps.

Let's think about all these quest days from his perspective.

You're simple logical guy who already for quite some time lives with an annoying but kind of endearing roommate, who you drink coffee with in the morning and often discuss intellectual or not really stuff. Sometimes you argue but he's perspective on life fascinates you as a scholar, so you don't mind it too much. Ultimately you're just used to him in your life.

Then one day you go to your work, which brings you just enough money to feel completely comfortable, but you start feeling that something fishy is going on behind the scenes. Some sages disappear, your archon is treated like a power source and there are weird rumours about the divine knowledge capsules. Then you get a sudden assignment - investigate a blond traveller with a talking fairy. And sages propose to pay you with the divine knowledge capsule.

Suspicious. If it's such a big deal, why would they promise you it as a present for a simple spy work?

You decide to get to the bottom of this and for this you need to buy the capsule yourself. You're sure that the infamous merchant Dori has some, but you're definitely in the black list as the Academia's scribe... Ah, how lucky is it. Your roommate just so happen to have a strong connection to Dori. If you give him money and an excuse why he needs the capsule so much she would definitely sell it to him. It settled then.

You come home. But you're roommate isn't there. You wait. He doesn't come back. You're confused and decide to check using you're connections at the Academia, and... he suddenly was requested to the desert? And just left? Why would he leave exactly when everything was going to get weird? Did he know something? Did Academia want to temporarily move him out of the picture? Maybe they did something worse than that? Was it all a coincidence?

You don't know and you have no time. You need to spy on Traveller. You need to buy a capsule. It seems that you're alone in it.

Dori didn't sell you a capsule. That wasn't unexpected but still worth the try. You decide to make the mysterious traveller to buy it for you. It went great. You find out more about capsules, you steal one yourself. You realise that the divine knowledge offered by the sages was a trap to dispose of you. Your roommate still didn't come back. It's been what, almost a week? Whatever. It's nice and quiet at your home.

You meet Traveller again on your way to the desert to investigate the source of the capsules. You run into Cyno and a bunch of other people and you seem to finally get the lead to answers that you wanted. You find out that the capsules were extracted from the brains of scholars who were send to the desert by the Academia and then abducted. You're roommate was also sent to the desert by the Academia. Uh. He's fine. You have your problems to deal with.

You and your unexpected but quite pleasant team find out that sages want to create a God. It seems it's time to rescue your archon. You came up with a pretty good plan. Noe you need to return to the city after these couple of days in the desert. When you come home, your roommate still isn't there.

The next day your team is preparing for the plan and Cyno says that you all need to go home and have a good rest.

"...Thankfully I had my place to myself recently. It's been nice and quiet."

"...Huh?"

Dehya stares at you confused.

You didn't realise that you said it out loud and you're not sure how other people deal with situations when they say something without thinking.

"Oh, nothing"

You went home and slept alright.

The plan worked, Nahida was saved, sages punished, akasha destroyed, your comfortable routine is safe again. It's still nice and quite at home, so you go to the library to read some books.

"Alhaitham, what happened in the Academia?!"

You hear a familiar voice. After all this time he returns like nothing happened.

5. And this was a recap of Alhaitham's side of the archon quest!

Interpretations can vary of course, but the way I see it, Alhaitham was very bothered by Kaveh's sudden disappearance. He clearly expresses that he wishes Kaveh was in the team during the quest ("Where were you when Sumeru needed you most?"). From this we can guess that Kaveh really left without any warning and had Alhaitham known about it, he would most likely stopped him.

I think Alhaitham quickly found out where Kaveh was (connections) but he had no means of contacting him quickly and maybe didn't even know the exact location. At first it was a minor inconvenience because of the Dori situation, but he probably wasn't bothered to much by it. But after he found out that sages actively tried to dispose of him by making him insane, he probably realised that the situation was way worse that he initially thought. And Kaveh still was somewhere in the desert with no means to contact him.

So what Alhaitham does next? He goes to the desert. Yes, it was for the plot reasons, but let's agree, he at least considered a possibility that he could run into Kaveh there. But he never did. And what's more, he found out that the Academia was abducting scholars and sucking their brains out. Let's be real, the theory that Kaveh was send to the desert for the reasons connected to knowledge capsules, most likely was on Alhaitham's mind, and in a bad universe it could've been correct.

Well, Kaveh did return home after all. But by that point Alhaitham's supressed stress about this whole situation was so great, that it resulted in him being genuinely salty at Kaveh during their first on-screen dialog and even saying "Well, maybe then you should move out of my house" - which, at least from my point of view, is way worse then his usual teasing about Kaveh being broke and homeless or whatever.

6. About Kaveh's role in the archon quest besides making Alhaitham sad

Ag, that's a very fun topic. I don't know how I totally missed it the first time, maybe it was the lack of respect for Kaveh, idk, but he was 100% purposefully sent away for the time of the quest.

Sages wanted to move him out of the picture just like they wanted to do with Alhaitham using knowledge capsule. Except they knew that Kaveh would not be too interested in the capsules. So they needed something else to remove him... Like a sudden very urgent request to build a children's hospital somewhere very deep in the desert for people who are literally dying without it! Huh, well, I just made it up, but I believe that sages came up with something very similar.

Kaveh is the type of person to jump straight into any charity he sees and ask next to none questions about it, so it would be the easiest way to send him away for good. Plus I believe that it could've been the reason why he didn't talk with Alhaitham about it and disappeared so sudden. Children are dying! No time for talking! But then he arrived to the said place in the desert and it was just a mess. Maybe a fake project, maybe literally nothing, maybe a trap. In other words - not the project he was told he is needed for.

It's something that we don't get spelled out for us (Alhaitham even denies it cause he's angry at that moment), but timings are just too perfect to be a coincidence. And that's not the only proof - Kaveh himself heavily implies that there was something very fishy about this mission.

He straight up avoids answering Alhaitham's questions about it, and says "Thinking about it makes me angry". Why would he say this about the Academia project? It's not like he had a specific annoying client. Kaveh was sent as a representative from the Academia to be the head of some "construction project" after all, he presumably was the boss there. So it can only mean that there was something wrong with the project itself.

Plus immediately after he finds out that his sage was a part of the conspiracy, he says "So that's why they sent me there", which further implies that whatever was happening on that mission in desert – it was either absurd (if the sages just wanted to keep Kaveh away for some time) or very dangerous (if they wanted him dead). Unfortunately Kaveh's the last person who would tell us about the danger to his life, so we can forget about learning what the hell was that mysterious mission.

Ah, and about why would sages want Kaveh away. Sure it can be because of his connections to Alhaitham, but…

I think anyone who knows Kaveh more then 10 minutes would know that if he found out what sages are planning to do with a literal child and what they do to other scholars, he would die but not let them continue all of it. And he is quite popular among students and citizens alike, so he could've been a potential threat for the sages.

Makes me wonder how many other potential dangers did sages eliminate in some way for their plan. Probably not too many, but still interesting behind the scenes of their actions.

AND NOW, AFTER ALL THIS THINKING, I FINNALY, FINALLY, WAS ABLE TO UNDERSTAND ALHAITHAM'S FINAL LINES IN THE ARCHON QUEST.

Let's return to the end of the act 5. After we had a feast at the Grand Bazar, we were able to one last time talk to each member of our Sumeru-rescue team.

Alhaitham said this:

Which was always bothering me, because:

One: He suddenly becomes quite sentimental and talks about happiness, which is cool to see, but at the same time... He very rarely talks about subjective emotions. And what's more, he seems genuinely enjoying the thought of it. He isn't really the kind of person who gets his sense of satisfaction out of someone else's happiness (it's one of the things he parallels Kaveh in), so what's this all about?

Two: He extremely abruptly switches the topic to point out that he "seems to have taken both keys when he left the house" (tbh I thought that I accidentally clicked on him the second time and it's the new dialog, but no, it is all specifically a one long dialog).

Well well well. What do we have here.

When I first read these lines I decided that's it's just a weird writing without normal conversation flow. First Alhaitham is satisfied that he's plan worked and his daily life is safe, but says it through pointing out that other people are happy rather then explicitly stating that he's happy. Then he yaoi baiting us with "haha, harassing Kaveh is so much fun" and that's all there is to it.

But.

Now that we know more about Alhaitham's daily life during the archon quest, let's think about the keys some more.

He was able to take both keys because Kaveh was at home and his keys were there either. On his way out to meet us, Alhaitham saw Kaveh's keys on their usual place and took them as well, ultimately making Kaveh unable to leave the house. Which also means...

Kaveh will definitely be at home when Alhaitham returns after the feast.

So if we flip everything based on this logic, Alhaitham tells us: "This is a great evening. This gathering is special. People are finally happy. They feel happiness from the bottom of their hearts. And when I return home there will be someone waiting for".

Which is. So. PRECIOUS!.. Something clicked in my brain when I first realized this meaning and these lines are finally making a lot of sense!

It's the perfect final words for his little character journey in this quest. He protected the life he had and loved, everything and everyone were back to normal again and for him it is a true happiness felt from the bottom of his heart. Just precious.

Final words

Anyway, yes, that's why I believe that during the archon quest Alhaitham was actually constantly worrying about Kaveh at the back of his mind and maybe even feeling lonely, which resulted in his great boom of toxicity during their first on-screen dialog, but after some time he cooled down and slipped into his usual happy comfortable and not "nice and quiet" life again.

And fuck the sages for sending away our boy Kaveh (who actually knows a lot about desert since he works there often) and making our rescue-Nahida-group one competent person shorter.

Thanks for your time and tears, you, the person who read this!

[spookberry]

Hello I hope you are doing well! I wanted to say that I really love your art! Could I ask for more information about Henri and Claire, or just Henri in general? I think they're super cute but additionally, I think Henri is interesting by himself because I feel like I don't know as much about him! How long has he been immortal? How did he become immortal? How did he learn to exorcise? Oh, and I wanted to ask how you feel about fanart of your ocs? I really love Claire's design and I think it would be fun to draw him :)

:D! No one's ever asked me about Henri before! Also to answer your last question I'd love fanart of my OCs 🥺

More on Henri under the cut:

Okay so basically his backstory goes like this: back in the Victorian era there was this couple that was really into the occult. They were fairly nomadic, traveling the states as consultants when people were having supernaturally driven issues. This couple also happened to have a young son, Henri. Henri and his folks were very close and he took after them and their interest in ancient magic A Lot.

When Henri was about 9 his parents died. They left everything to him, but they didn't exactly have a house or anything, just a ton of old books and cursed trinkets. His favorite though was a book that was written entirely in ancient greek. So when he ran away to avoid being shipped off to live with relatives that didnt appreciate his interest in magic too much, that book was one of the things he thought to grab first.

Grief can make a 9 year old orphan do crazy shit, for Henri it became about trying to translate this book. Thats when he discovered problem number 2 with the book: its full of dark magic. Every spell in it is awful and corrupting. There's one unfinisged spell thats meant to banish a demon from their host body. And its like the one spell he can concieve of in this book that isnt just like flat out evil. So he decided to try and finish it.

The book also has a demon summoning ritual in it, so you can guess what he does.

After that he's saddled with Claire a 12 year old girl who is VERY mad it him about getting rid of her demon and demands he help her find him again. (Note: Claire does not realize he's trans yet here)

They try to summon skid back but it just doesnt work, so they gotta do this the old fashioned way.

Takes them months before they finally manage to track skid down again, but during that time the two manage to become friends. Claire opens up a lot about her fear of dying and how she feels she cant enjoy life because of how little time she has left. Henri decides his new goal in life is to heal her so that they can grow up and grow old together. He tells her as much and she gives him this gentle little smile and he internally is like "i would die for her" (he's in love but doesnt know it yet.)

Once Skid is back in and puppeting the body, Henri makes the choice to stick by Skid's side. He needs them to be close for when he finally figures out a way to heal her. And ya know the modern medicine of cough syrup with cocaine and mercury isnt gonna do it so he starts experimenting with magic instead.

He's 15 when he accidentally curses himself. Part of the curse effects his memory, so he doesn't actually know WHAT he did, and he doesn't even realize right away that he isn't aging. All he knows at first is that suddenly dark magics waaaay easier to do so he needs to be careful about that and also one of his eyes is fucked up. So now his secondary motive is also undo his own curse as well as heal Claire. Cuz itd suck if he finally heals Claire but isnt able to age himself, ya know?

Henri's a pretty chill guy and most of the cast view him as skid's 2nd in command and often her voice of reason(though he himself is prone to being impulsive and moody due to the whole technically still being 15 thing). The underlings also all view him as an older brother sort, because he's protective but often "hands off" in how deals with things but also hes just really tall. Lucky him he had his growth spurt before cursing himself to never age.

He tends to have a lot of memory issues, some days are worse than others. On his worst days he doesn't even remember how he met skid, but most days hes just sort of fuzzy and cant quite remember all 200 years he's spent by their side. His vision has also deteriorated with time, he cant see out of his left eye at all and can only make out colors and general shapes out with his left.

Even though he stuck with Skid for Claire's sake, Henri has actually become very close with skid after 200 years. Skid's secretive and doesnt actually like talking about themself honestly but depsite that he knows a lot about them. He knows skid has their own memory issues, and he's aware that Skid's not a full demon. He's heard skid's human name before but forgot it at some point and knows better than to ask about it. He's also very aware that Skid's prone to getting involved in shit which leads to them getting hurt magically and letting Claire run the body for a couple days every other decade. So they still get to see each other. These brief meetings is how Henri realized he was in love with Claire.

Bonus Info: Henri doesn't actually subscribe to modern labels and doesnt really consider himself as being into women or men. He just loves who he loves. (Hes asexual and panromantic)

Fun Fact: i came up with Henri and Skid when I was 12, but every other character in their story, including Claire, formed a slightly later.

^ skid and Henri drawings from when I was 12