#so of course he had everyone enraptured the whole time

[peaches2217]

I come from a family of singers, and while I didn’t inherit the Actually Good at Singing gene, I used to love singing anyway. I’ve always been an alto, and my deeper voice was always a point of pride for me! I was into musical theatre, and when I would actually be cast, I’d find as many loopholes as possible to sing lower than I was supposed to. I wanted to be a Broadway actress. But I wanted to play women’s and men’s roles. I wanted to be known as the woman who could be a man just as easily and just as flawlessly.

But after a, uh, particular incident at a singing contest, I realized just how much I actually sucked and swore off singing for the rest of my life; I’ve been slowly allowing myself to sing again through my twenties, but never where others can hear.

While my speaking voice hasn’t dropped as much since starting T, my singing voice has. I’ve been testing my low range by singing the opening of The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg and seeing how many notes I can actually hit, and I’ve been kinda dissatisfied, because I still can’t hit the bottom notes. But as of late I’ve found myself cranking off into musical theatre pieces whenever I’m alone and cleaning or driving or what have you, and the more I go through, the more I realize my voice is, at present, so much closer to the voice I always wanted growing up.

While cleaning the windows at work, I cranked off on the most hilariously passionately rendition of Who I’d Be, which has always been one of my favorites, but one I could never sing; it went too low, and raising the key took it too high outside of my range. Now? I can hit every last note. Not well, of course, but I never once struggled in the lows. Now I can’t stop singing it, because I’ve wanted to sing it since I was thirteen and now I finally can and I’m needlessly emotional over it.

I dunno. It’s just nice. This is the first time I’ve felt happy about my voice since I was in middle school, and it’s empowering in an odd sorta way.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

just a little something to get started with this blog <3 enjoy!

"afternoon amour" poly!marauders x reader, very, very fluffy

Now, despite the difficult and dreary task it is to stay focused in History of Magic, despite the awful, droning tone of Professor Binns, and despite the pleasant day outside that called to every Hogwarts student like a siren, you were dutifully scratching out notes on Elfric the Eager.

That's just who you were, a good student. Focused, dutiful! Your grades never suffered, and, quite frankly, you took pride in your work.

So, when the end of class rolled around and students were itching to chase out the door and into the sun, you were reasonably surprised to have Binns return a paper to you with a "Dreadful" marking on it.

You gaped at the "D" on the paper before quickly flipping through the pages. Red ink was scribbled all over it, corrections here and there and everywhere. By the time you recognized the handwriting and realized Binns had made a mistake by handing you the wrong paper, the student's paper that you held had scrambled out of the classroom with the rest of his famous friends.

You thought the Marauders were all relatively smart, how did Sirius Black manage such an awful grade?

Glancing around the now empty classroom and then out the window, you sighed, trying to decide just how worth it it was to follow the rowdy group outside and retrieve your actual paper. You looked at the "Dreadful" paper again.

Not that the Marauders had ever done anything horrible to you personally, it was quite the opposite.

They were far too friendly.

It was perfectly fine that they were cozy and affectionate with each other, seeing as the whole school knew about their sweet romance, but they always managed to pull you into their show. Little compliments here and there, the occasional brushed hand or shoulder. You flushed thinking of some of the things Black himself had shouted to you in public. Potter incessantly held doors for you and practically stole your books off your shoulder to carry them for you. Even Lupin had his moments of quiet suaveness, standing and sitting too closely to be entirely friendly, speaking to you gently as he explained things or said a joke only meant for you.

Not that you entirely minded, of course. But having three gorgeous Gryffindors flirt with you and distract you and be so romantic but never fully ask you on a real date could be... overwhelming.

A gentle sigh escaped you as you stood with your bag on your shoulder and Black's paper in hand. Might as well take the opportunity to enjoy the pretty day outside.

As you made your way out the doors, sunshine washed over your face, followed by the shouts of your peers enjoying the day. A quick glance around the courtyard led you to exactly what you were looking for.

There stood James Potter, emphatically recounting a story to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. He seemed completely in his element, skin glowing under the light of day as he jumped and kicked and shouted to them. Remus leaned against a tree with his legs crossed, one arm holding Sirius to his chest (who was enraptured with James's story) and the other holding a novel. You smiled watching them. Their shared happiness was completely contagious to everyone around them.

Sirius looked like he was about to chime in with Jame's when you caught his eyes, a huge grin spreading across his face.

"Hey gorgeous! Don't you look lovely as ever?"

His shout made James turn and Remus look up from his book, smiles spreading across their faces as well as a flush spread across yours. James bounded towards you and tossed an arm around your shoulders, bright as ever.

"Hey there lovey," He said as he dragged you towards the others, much faster than you had been walking before, "to what do we owe the pleasure of seeing your pretty face?"

"A misplaced paper, it would seem." You shyly produced Sirius's horrid essay, and James snatched it from your hands.

"Christ, Pads, how'd you manage that?"

"Manage what?" Remus frowned, putting down his novel as James handed him the paper. He skimmed the front before pushing Sirius aside to flip through the leaves of paper, frowning more. "Sirius, I helped you study for this! How'd you still manage a 'Dreadful'?"

The boy in question scoffed a little, before smirking and offering a hand towards you. "Way to tattle on me gorgeous."

Your cheeks felt even warmer as James grabbed your bag and nudged you towards Sirius, who, once in range, grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit with him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you into his side, leaning his head against your shoulder.

You whispered a quiet sorry to Sirius, who playfully shushed you, as Remus looked up again, scolding in his tone.

"I'm serious Pads, this is just horrendous. Did you even try at this?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," He then turned his gaze to you, mischief in his eyes, "maybe I was distracted during class."

At this you tucked your face behind your hands and groaned, making James and Sirius coo at you while Remus's frown softened.

"Quit using our dovey as an excuse, and set the poor thing free, you've just about crumpled them."

Sirius shot up at this, scandalized. "I've done no such thing!" He tightened his grasp on you and pulled your hands into one of his as he looked at you. "They don't mind my loving on them! Do you, gorgeous?"

"Uh-" You glanced between Sirius, Remus, and James, who had now set your bag down and sat in front of the two of you. Your face felt like it was on fire. This felt a little more serious than the playful comments you four had shared up to this point. James smiled pitifully and reached over to stroke your arm.

"Do you really mind, lovey? We'll leave you be if it's too much."

If it's too much.

You glanced between the boys, thinking about how overwhelmed you felt around them. The touches, the soft words, the loving pet names.

Glancing between them, you realized just how wonderful the feeling was. Sure you were overwhelmed, but it was a completely fuzzy, delightful feeling. You felt loved.

The longer you sat quietly, the more boys seemed to deflate. Sirius removed his arm and was about the shuffle off before you grabbed at his arm to stop him.

With a smile, you spoke up,

"No. Not too much. It's alright. I-... I like it."

Sirius grinned, scooping you entirely into his lap and holding you tightly as James laughed and Remus rolled his eyes fondly at his behavior.

"Perfect, I knew you'd be on my side, gorgeous." He tucked his chin over your shoulder to give Remus a stink eye and a smirk. "Looks like I win this time."

You feared Remus's eyes may get stuck if he kept rolling them, but he shook his head and scooched to lean against Sirius. His voice was filled with loving as he spoke up,

"There's no winning for you considering this essay."

You giggled as Sirius groaned and hid away in your neck, whispering a quiet "see what they put me through?" to you as James laid his head across your lap with a grin.

"Maybe they can help you study, Pads! Since it's clear Remus's tutoring isn't workin- OW! Hey!"

James rubbed at his cheek where Remus had just pinched him. The latter huffed and cozied up closer to you and Sirius, who laughed at James's misfortune. You began to run your hand through his curls as your eyes shut.

The sun's warmth felt lovely on your face, but being surrounded by your boys possibly made you feel warmer.

this completely not proof read i fear but i wanted to write something before the night ended, so have this as a gift my dears <3 much love, charlie

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor with a 1950’s housewife styled reader. When he sees her he doesn’t even understand why she’s in hell in the first place.

!!Mentions of domestic violence!!

She killed her husband for laying a hand on their child. She was slow and methodical with her kill, and when Alastor finds out he becomes enraptured by her. In awe of how proper and kind she is but how devastatingly cruel she can be if the circumstance calls for it.

He finds her duality alluring in a sense, and he’s so curious to see what fresh hell she’d let loose in hell if she decided to unleash herself upon some poor sinners.

This is my first request in a long time and I’m super tired so I hope this makes sense 😅

Oh boy, oh boy, did I love this idea and I hope I did you justice on it :)!

ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕤

Alastor x Reader

“Alastor, dear, can you do me a favor?” I asked while smoothing my dress out nervously.

“Of course darling! What can I do for you my Angel?” Alastor started calling me that the day he met me. He was adamant that heaven messed up or I was a fallen angel for being too good. Every time he would go on one of his long stipples, I would have to keep my lips tight and calm my beating heart for two reasons. He really was too sweet to me and because I never want anyone to know my ugly truth. Not that I’m ashamed but because I don’t need everyone hunting down the man, especially considering he was alive and well in hell with me. I think he suffered considerably for his actions and I didn’t need the whole hotel, that was supposed to be a walking advertisement about redemption, trying to murder this man. Especially Alastor, he would be completely unforgiving.

He was always so polite when it concerned me and always had a compliment to throw my way.

“Mon Cher, looking elegant as always.”

“Darling, do smile more often. Hell would be much better with your sparkling smile.”

“What’s a looker like you doing at the bar by yourself? Care for company Angel?”

“Mon Cher,

“Would you be so kind to help me make dinner today? I truly didn’t expect the King of Hell to be visiting or I could’ve handled it on my own.” Exasperated that Charlie failed to mention, again, about her fathers visit. I rather not have him thinking an old housewife, such as myself, failed to uphold the standards I was raised with. This place will be spotless and perfect in two hours by my own hand, if Alastor agrees to assist me. I always batted his hands away when he’s tried before, being conditioned that all this work is only my job. My ex husband made sure I learned that too.

“Absolutely! Anything for my sweet Angel! Are you certain there is nothing else I can assist you with? Perhaps some cleaning, laundry, anything?” Alastor was leaning in towards my personal space as I pushed a finger over his massive smile. He truly is a pure gentleman despite his horrific sins he’s committed. Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to him?

“Oh, no. Just some help in the kitchen will be fine. I just need someone to watch over the meal as it cooks so it doesn’t burn while I clean the rest of this hotel.” I smiled at him as polite as I could while trying not to tremble over the simple act of asking for help. It’s always involuntary when I flinch at a man, so much so that I’ve overheard conversations about it from the group. Charlie and Angel express their concerns to me but the rest just watch with pity in their eyes.

“Angel, certainly there is more I can do?” He gave me his smile still, slightly strained, but concern and a small hint of frustration were in those burgundy eyes. I pretended to think on it before shaking my head.

“That simply won’t do. I will handle all kitchen duties and you can clean. Don’t try to stop me.” Alastor morphed through the shadows as I raced to beat him to the kitchen, only to be met with a locked door. I huffed before giving in, but only because I was on a tight schedule. Fighting with Alastor’s stubbornness was at the bottom of my list and making sure this place was spiffy was at the top. So, I raced around on the lobby floor, cleaning everything and everything. I couldn’t help but notice how Alastor was trying to slyly send his shadow and Niffty to help. Ignoring them on purpose, faking ignorance for his sake, and kept cleaning at my full speed.

By the time I noticed there was nothing left to do, I was out of breath and was done one hour earlier than I thought I would be. That was also considering how I had two extra sets of helping hands plus the fact I didn’t have to check the kitchen at all. I smiled as I panted out, wiping the sweat from my brow. I sauntered into the kitchen, now with unlocked doors, and had my hands on my hips as I watched Alastor finish cooking everything I had laid out. I had a bandana on to keep my hair pulled up and stop the sweat from running down my neck. It was the pretty maroon and black one Alastor gave me the first year I knew him.

“Lovely to see you using the things I get you.” Without even turning around, he knew what I was wearing and didn’t degrade me for not completing these tasks completely on my own or faster. The smile spread on my face as I began to tease back.

“Always lovely to see you cooking. Don’t think I don’t see that tail wagging happily, deer.” I emphasized on his nickname being used more so as what animal he was. His ears twitched as he turned around with a playful grin. My tail whipped around behind me, showing I was teasing him playfully. He leaned closer, invading my personal space again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Angel. I’m just helping a deer friend out.” He chuckled at his own pun, making me smile and nudge him. This is what normally happens when one of us tells a joke, it turns into a pun war. Right now though, I guess it was deer themed with a hint of good tension between us. He had us switching places, where I was the one with the counter behind me and he with nothing. Walking closer and closer, getting more into eachothers spaces with no complaints. Which of itself, others would find quite odd how Alastor wasn’t upset by myself being this close to him.

“That pun wasn’t one of your best. Dare I say, I wasn’t too fawn of that one.” His smile widened with genuine happiness without anything evil being the cause of it. It really was beautiful. I couldn’t help but morph my smile from a playful one to a genuine smile as well, full of admiration. I could even feel my eyes basically forming heart shapes for him.

“Angel?” His eyes looked relaxed along with his smile, he was still leaning so close to me I could feel his coat tickling my skin.

“Yes, deer?” He smiled more before continuing.

“How are you in Hell? Really?” My smile froze as I panicked slightly. He was someone I could see hunting my ex husband down and brutally killing for what he’s done, especially towards me and my family. My hands moved before I could stop them, gripping his with mine. His eyes looked confused at our hands before looking at me, waiting for what it was.

“Promise me, Al, that you’ll let it go after I tell you.” His eyes searched mine before he sighed out.

“You know I can’t promise that, my Angel.” One of his claws carefully brushed my cheek slowly. He started moving slower with his movements when they were towards me after noticing how I flinched. The bright red claws remained on my face as I looked away, defeated.

“It wasn’t always horrible with him, my late husband and father of my two beautiful girls.” I smiled as I mentioned my children, who have long lived their lives after my death, and both in heaven.

“But after a couple years when my youngest turned four, Paul wasn’t the same. He was laid off from his fancy office job and started drinking when he couldn’t find work. We had to sell our home and move. I started working at a couple diners and cleaning for a couple homes, anything to make the bills.” My smile turned sad as Alastor’s turned strained the second I spoke of alcohol. His grip tightened slightly but never enough to hurt me.

“He would get angry when I came home late, how the house was a mess, when the children got fussy, and just anything that involved work for him. That’s when I got tired and mouthed off.” Alastor’s upper lip curled in disgust at what was about to be spoken next.

“He didn’t like that, slapped me back in place.” Alastor’s eyes squinted.

“I think you’re downplaying it, Angel.” I sheepishly grin, knowing he’s right.

“A little.”

“Tell the truth now, darling.”

“He beat me till I couldn’t stand anymore. I tried fighting back but…” I shook my head and felt my eyes burning.

“I was just a silly housewife.” He took his claw and gently swiped away a fallen tear. It was the only tear I will let fall.

“I only said enough when he went to hit the oldest for trying to pull him off of me.” Tension was rising up my spine and locking my jaw tight. Alastor’s radio static picked up even more the second I spoke that sentence. I could feel his anger radiating from him.

“I hated him for it, so much so I killed him.” I looked up at Alastor right when his eyes dilated, recognizing the shock and admiration that was swirling in his eyes. His smile spread out across his face more as the radio static cut silent, then he spoke without any static in his voice.

“My, my, what have we got here? Dare I say my Angel is really a demon after all?” I could tell he said it with slight humor, still thinking I’m too pure to be in hell.

“I poisoned him for months with rat poisoning in his alcohol. He chose his own death, I just sped it up. Everyone thought he died of alcohol poisoning but it was me. I’d do it again if it meant my kids never had to see that ever again. He could’ve lived if he just chose his family over the alcohol.” I shrugged with no remorse for my actions.

“While he was getting more and more ill, I would watch from the doorway of our bedroom, where he slept. Just holding a kitchen knife and sharpening it, watching him sleep horribly.” Alastor smiled wider, wider than I thought possible really, and dipped me down gracefully. His arm behind my back holding me completely as his other hand delicately glided his ruby claw down my cheek.

“Mon Cher, penser que je ne pourrais pas t'aimer davantage.” **

Alastor was immediately thinking about how he’d worship her forever and was intrigued to see what fresh hell she would unleash by his side with this daunting loyalty and protective spirit. He also took note to pay a visit to dear ol’ Paul, the current bartender that replaced Husk at the casino in town.

** translation - “My dear, to think that I couldn’t love you more.”

(As always, characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over :)! I will gladly try to write things for my supporters! Thank you for the love and have a great day! <3)

[petitemistletoe]

She-Wolf

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 4K+

A/N: She-Wolf by Shakira is such a Marauders song thank you Shakira for your contributions to society

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Alright James?” Remus asked as he set his books down on his bed, Sirius and Peter trailing in behind him. 

“Yeah, Prongs, what the hell are you doing?” Sirius asked, flopping down on his bed and watching James throw away a cluster of chocolate frog wrappers. 

“I’m cleaning after you animals.” James rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Why?” Peter asked. 

“My cousin is coming to visit and I got permission for her to stay here.” James held up a set of a dirty robes that had been hidden under Peter’s bed and gagged. 

“Your cousin? I thought she was up in the Pyrenees at Beauxbatons.” Remus bent down to help James pick up discarded candy bean packages. 

“Is she still a foul little bitch?” Peter said, flopping onto his bed and scowling.

“Whoa Wormy! Didn’t know you even knew that word!” Sirius laughed. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still upset with her for your little quidditch incident when we were seven.” James laughed.

“She hit me with her broomstick and broke my nose.” Peter sulked. 

“That was years ago, Peter. Beauxbatons has a holiday for some French event and I got Dumbledore’s permission to stay. I need everyone to be on their best behavior because she’s going to meet Evans for the first time.” 

“I will not be nice to her.” Peter crossed his arms.

“Yes, you will.” James’ words were clipped. Sirius was going to fire off some other ugly compliment when there was a knock at the dorm door. 

“Professor Dumbledore,” James took a step back from the door. 

“Hello gentlemen. James, your cousin’s chariot has landed by the black lake. She’s in the great hall now, waiting for you.” Dumbledore smiled. James, Remus, and Sirius bounded down the stairs while Peter sulked upstairs.

Remus was absolutely knocked back when he saw you. Sure, you were absolutely gorgeous but there was something about you, something he couldn’t quite name that had him enraptured by you. 

You were seated at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, talking to Mary. You hand was light on Mary’s arm, your head thrown back in laughter at something Mary had said. 

“Potter! You didn’t tell me your cousin was so hilarious.” Mary grinned as the boys sat down next to you. 

“It’s so good to see you, James.” You gave your cousin a tight hug before looking at the two boys seated next to him. “I imagine you must be Sirius and Remus. James never shuts up about you.”

A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me

Darling, it is no joke, this is lycanthropy

The moon's awake now, with eyes wide open

My body's craving, so feed the hungry

“Guilty as charged.” Sirius winked.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked. 

“He’s still cross with you about the broomstick.” James rolled his eyes.

“Oh my God that was like ten years ago.” You laughed and rolled your own eyes. 

“So how long will you be staying with us?” Sirius asked. 

“The whole weekend!”

“That long?” James looked alarmed. He had told the boys that you were only staying for the night.

“Is that alright?” You cocked your head. 

“Of course, of course. Moony, Pads, can I talk to you for a second?” James stood from the table and gestured for the boys to follow until they were out of earshot of the table. 

“So she’s staying for a week?” Sirius glared at James. 

“I didn’t know! What are we going to do?” James moaned. 

I've been devoting myself to you Monday to Monday and Friday to Friday

Not getting enough retribution or decent incentives to keep me at it

I'm starting to feel just a little abused like a coffee machine in an office, ah

So I'm gonna go somewhere cosy to get me a lover and tell you about it

“Do about what?” Peter asked, joining the group. 

“James’ cousin is staying for the entire weekend.” Remus sighed. 

“What about the moon on Saturday?” Peter asked. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem Pete.” Sirius rubbed his temples

“I knew there was nothing good that could happen with that girl around.” Peter shook his head and made his way back over to the table.

“Alright Peter?” You grinned up at the boy. 

“Potter.” He glared down at you. 

“Don’t tell me your still upset about the broom!”

“It’s all he’s talked about for the past two weeks.” Mary said with an eyeroll. “You’re coming to the Three Broomsticks tonight, right?”

“Am I?” You looked up at James. 

“Yeah! We’ll do dinner here and then drinks at the pub and you can meet Lily. I think you’ll love her.” James smiled. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Excellent! When’s dinner I’m starving?” You asked. 

“About an hour. I think James and I are going to do a quick spin on the pitch if you’d like to join. I’m sure Wormy would love it.” Sirius grinned at the thought of you being around Peter again with a broom. 

“I appreciate the offer but I actually was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Madame Pomfrey’s office.”

“What do you need to see Madame Pomfrey for?” James was immediately concerned, his hand going to your forehead to check your temperature. 

“I’m fine,” you laughed, “I’ve been wanting to explore the world of healing after I graduate and I hear that Poppy Pomfrey is one of the best medi-witches in the UK.” You explained. 

“I can walk you down,” Remus said, getting up and extending his hand to help you up. 

“See you all at dinner!” You waved to the group and walked down to the hospital wing with Remus. 

Remus left you in the hospital wing and made his way back up to the dorms, expecting to find it completely empty. He was surprised to see Sirius lounging on Remus’ bed, playing with a snitch. 

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent

The moon's my teacher, and I'm her student

“What are you doing up here?” Remus asked, sitting down hard on the bed and sighing. His body was sore, the way it always was in the days leading up to the moon. 

“Peter threw another hissy fit so James is calming him down. I didn’t want to hear him moan anymore so I thought I’d come here and hear you moan.” Sirius smirked, grabbing Remus by the back of the neck and kissing him hard. Remus chuckled and reciprocated, his teeth clashing against Sirius’ as he pulled off his shirt. Remus could feel Sirius growing hard beneath him and he chuckled, 

“You’re so needy for me.” Remus grinned. Sirius moaned into Remus’ open mouth and whispered, 

“You’re always so hot near the moon.” Sirius flipped Remus over so Sirius was on top and started to kiss down Remus’ jaw, then his chest, then down his stomach towards his cock. Sirius took Remus into his mouth and relaxed his mouth, trying to take in as much of Remus as he could. Remus knotted his fingers in Sirius’ dark hair and moaned, 

“Fuck yeah, Black. God that feels so good.”

Sirius moaned around Remus’ cock, taking out his own cock and jerking it as he sucked Remus off. Remus knew the moon heightened his emotions and impulses but he felt like his skin was on fire. It felt like every nerve ending was exposed and as he came he released a strangled, 

“Oh Potter.”

Sirius jerked his head back, his mouth still full of Remus’ cum and quirked an eyebrow at him. Sirius swallowed harshly and said, 

“You just killed my hard-on.”

To locate the single man I got on me a special radar

And the fire department hot line in case I get in trouble later

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time and behave very bad in the arms of a boy

“I-” Remus was bright red and trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

“You don’t have a crush on James, do you?” Sirius joked. 

“No, no, not James…”

“It’s his cousin! I knew it! You’ve been acting weird ever since she got here.” Sirius was a little annoyed now, “I thought you were gay, you big liar.”

“I am! I don’t know what it is about her…something I can’t quite explain. Hopefully it’s all just related the moon.” Remus shook his head. 

“Maybe you should fuck her,” Sirius shrugged. 

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. Get it out of your system. We could have a little threesome!” Sirius laughed. 

“With James’ cousin? He would murder us in cold blood.” Remus shook his head. 

You were making your way back up from the hospital wing when a girl started walking in stride with you. 

“Can I help you?” You asked her. James had warned you extensively of steering clear of the Slytherins and this girl wasn’t wearing her house tie so you were a bit concerned. 

“Sorry! I’m Lily, James’ girlfriend. You’re his cousin, aren’t you?” She stopped and stretched out her hand. 

“Oh hi! How did you know I was James’ cousin?” You asked, shaking her hand and resuming your walk.

“He’s talked about you for two weeks straight, I think I could’ve drawn you from memory. Also your powder blue Beauxbatons uniform makes you stick out like a sore thumb.” Lily giggled.

“Oh,” you released a laugh yourself, “I guess you’re right.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your uniform as you walked with Lily to the great hall. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

It was far more alive than it had been just an hour ago when you had arrived. The four large tables were packed, each one was practically overflowing with students who were talking loudly and over each other. You expected a clear divide between each house, after James’ comments about Slytherin but it seemed like there was a fair amount of intermingling. The Slytherins generally kept to themselves but other than that you saw people of all tie colors sitting together, chatting, eating, joking around. You saw Mary sitting in the lap of a boy with a yellow tie at a table that was not Gryffindor’s. You couldn’t help but stare at the Slytherin table as you walked towards the Gryffindor table. There was a boy at the table that was staring daggers at you. He had impossibly pale skin, a large hooked nose, and long dark hair that seemed overdue for a wash. He was seated next to a boy who bore a striking resemblance to Sirius and you seemed to remember your Aunt Effie mentioning something about taking in Sirius after a fall-out with his family. He was a Black, if you remembered correctly, and even though tensions about blood status were not as high in France as they were in the UK, you were well aware of the Black legacy. Perhaps this boy was Sirius’ brother. Regardless, he wasn’t the one staring at you-that was the greasy haired boy. 

Lily had something to you that you hadn’t processed and she followed your gaze to the boy. To your surprise, her face split into a grin and she waved at the boy who only blushed red and dropped his head. 

“That’s Severus. He’s…an old friend of mine. James doesn’t like that we’re friends. I’m sure he’s told you all about how awful and foul the Slytherins are.” Lily’s voice and an edge to it. 

“He has,” you nodded, “but James has always been very passionate about what he believes in.”

“That’s an understatement,” Lily nodded as you sat. You two were the first of the group to sit at the table and you relished the few moments of quiet where you could talk with Lily uninterrupted. 

“I’m not going to say anything bad about James,” you said, diplomatically, “but I have no business in writing people off before I can make my own sound judgement about them.”

“Oh,” Lily seemed to have been released of an intense weight on her shoulders, “I’m so glad to hear that. It’s rich coming from James, too, considering that Remus-” Lily’s eyes went wide and she immediately sucked in a deep breath. 

“Remus has all those scars, right? Must make him a target for bullies.” You supplied. 

“Yes, yes exactly.” Lily said gratefully. Before she could say anything else, Sirius and Remus waltzed into the hall, followed closely by James and Peter.

“Look at that! My two best girls are already acquainted!” James shoved his way between you and Lily and wrapped his arms around you both. 

“Oh God,” you gagged, wiggling out of James’ grasp and covering your nose with your hand.

“James you smell disgusting!” Lily also scooted away from James and gave him a playfully disgusted look. 

“I was on the pitch!” James said with mock shock, “Don’t act like you don’t love it Evans!” He practically tackled Lily, peppering with kisses as she pretended to retch. 

“Are they always that lovey-dovey?” You asked Sirius, who sitting across from you.

“Unbearably so.” Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“So how was your talk with Madame Pomfrey?” Remus asked. It seemed like every time you turned your head Remus was staring at you with his deep, inquisitive eyes. 

“Great! She shared a lot of great resources about healing.” You nodded and took a bite of your food. The blonde girl at the table, Marlene, whipped her head around.

“Are you interesting in healing?” She asked excitedly. 

“Uh, yes. I was thinking about pursuing it after I graduate.” You replied cautiously. 

“So will I! I’d love to pick your brain about it.” Marlene had a wide grin on her face. 

“Absolutely,” you said with mock confidence, “another time though. I’m here to spend time with my cousin, if he can bear detaching himself from his girlfriend for a moment.” 

The table came alive with that, everyone laughing and hollering as James and Lily broke apart both red faced and sheepish. James was informing you of the evening’s itinerary when you felt a foot trace its way up your leg. Not too far up or anything, but it was definitely there and it definitely belonged to one Sirius Black. He was looking at you with a smirk as his fingers danced around the rim of his goblet. It took an active effort for you to tear yourself away from his gaze and pay attention to what James was saying. 

“Hold on a second,” you held your hand up and looked at James in astonishment, “you want to hit the pitch tomorrow at seven in the morning after getting pissed tonight? Are you insane?” 

“I’m giving you an extra hour of sleep!” James was wearing a face of true astonishment at your protests. 

“Didn’t you know that James Potter has never ever been hungover in his life.” Peter said with a head shake.

“He’s absolutely insufferable after a night of drinking.” Sirius chuckled. His foot was still tracing up and down your leg. 

“Oh I bet he is.” You chuckled but your eyes never left Sirius’. 

“Where will you be sleeping?” Marlene asked. It seemed like dinner was finally coming to a close and you are were all just sipping at your goblets. 

“The boys’ dorm. I think Dumbledore was kind enough to set up an extra cot but we always used to sleep in the same bed when were little.” James pinched your cheek. 

“If you’re going to be insane about Quidditch tomorrow though I’m not sure I want to share a bed with you.” You chuckled. 

“You could always take Moony’s bed, he spends most his nights in Sirius’ bed anyway.” Peter shrugged. Someone breathed in sharply and everyone’s heads shot towards Peter like he’d said something out of turn. James’ gaze was stony, which was odd, you hadn’t known that your cousin had had a mean bone in his body. But here he was, glaring down his oldest friend. 

“You’re together?” You asked, looking between Remus and Sirius. 

“Yes,” Sirius said. James looked like he was ready to launch into a speech but you only shrugged and said, 

“You make a cute couple.”

There was a collective sigh as it seemed that the group was able to drop their guard again. You wondering how many people knew about Sirius and Remus’ relationship. You also found Sirius’ game of footsy all the more confusing. 

You had been a bit suspicious of the Gryffindors when you heard that James wasn’t prone to hangovers. You had assumed that the Gryffindors probably all passed around a bottle of spiked butterbeer and went to sleep a little warm and giggly. You were not expecting the rounds of shots, the drinking games, the chugging contests, the Weed. You were drunk out of your mind. Sirius was playing footsy with you again, being less subtle this time about the way he stared and ogled you. But everyone else was drunk too. Remus was staring, that was nothing new, but you figured maybe he was mad at you for capturing the attention of his boyfriend. But you could’ve sworn you had Remus’ attention first. 

“I’m gonna get another round.” Remus slurred, standing on shaky legs and walking over the bar. 

“I’ll go help,” Sirius followed Remus, slapping his ass hard as he made his way to the bar with his boyfriend. 

“Cheers Moony!” James laughed. His glasses were lopsided on his head and his jaw was covered in red lipstick kiss marks. Lily was perched comfortably on his lap and was resting her head in the crook of his neck. Marlene, Mary, and Peter had tapped out and returned about an hour before with their respective partners, no doubt trying to find unoccupied areas of the castle for a liquor-fueled hookup. 

“James I gotta question for you,” you giggled, knocking over an empty bottle of firewhiskey. 

“Anything for you, love,” James sent a wide grin your way. 

“Why do’ya call Remus Moony?”

“It’s actually a very interesting story,” James took his glasses off and pointed them your way but Lily slapped her hand over James’ mouth.

“I think you’ve had much too much to drink, James.” She said with a panicked laugh. Remus and Sirius returned with the tray of shots and you turned to the boys, 

“Remus, why does everyone call you Moony?” You asked him directly. 

“Just a nickname.” Sirius was casual, relaxed. An odd change from Lily. 

“Mooooony.” You crooned the entire way back to the dorms. “I like that. It has good mouth feel, you know.” You giggled at the sound of your own voice. James was brushing his teeth now, Lily had returned to her dorm and you were laying in James’ bed, just a blink away from falling asleep. 

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“I quite like when you say my name,” Remus said, quickly and smoothly in your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine. And then, you would tell yourself in the morning that you imagined it because you were so drunk, but you could have sworn that Remus licked up the side of your neck. 

When you woke up the next morning, your brain was pulsating inside your skull. You heard someone retching in the bathroom and you turned and found the bed empty. You tried to remember if James had even returned the night before or if you had left him in the pub when he sauntered back in, sweaty from a few rounds at the pitch. 

“There’s no way you aren’t hungover.” You groaned, turning over onto your stomach and wrapping your pillow over your ears. 

“Why don’t we get some breakfast? You’ll feel better.” James teased gently, trying to pull the covers off you. 

“Shut the fuck up James!” Remus snapped from behind his curtain. 

“Alright Moony, don’t yell just because it’s your time of the month. I have a bad enough headache as it is.” Peter was rubbing his temples as he exited the bathroom. He must’ve been the one vomiting earlier.

“Time of the month?” You asked. 

“Breakfast time!” James said suddenly, clapping his hands around your head. 

“Go away!” You groaned again, burying your head in your pillow until you were able to fall asleep again. When you woke up it was just you and Remus in the dorm. You dressed quietly as Remus explained that you two had slept through breakfast but you would be able to make lunch. Sirius and Peter had left just a few minutes before and James had already showered and finished an essay and was now waiting for you downstairs. You two made your way together down to the great hall where you wrapped your hands around a cup of coffee and nibbled at a piece of dry toast. Remus had loaded up his plate with a variety of lunch foods and you were staring at him in astonishment. Other than Remus, James was the only one with a normal appetite. 

“How are you not hungover?” You were flabbergasted, shaking your head at James. 

“You inherited Aunt Camille’s Veela status, I got her ability to avoid hangovers.” James shrugged. 

“So! I was thinking that you could spend the night in the girls’ dorm tonight. We’ll have a little sleepover.” Lily said with a grin. 

“Oh I’d love that but I actually want to spend more time with Jamesie here.” You smiled. Lily shot James a panicked expression that you weren’t able to fully understand. Remus leaned over and looked at the boys, sharing a knowing look that meant they all needed to talk. Luckily for the boys, you and Marlene were going to head to the library which meant the boys had free reign over the dorm for the foreseeable future. 

“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you all to come with me to the shack. We can’t risk your cousin finding anything out.” Remus sighed. 

“No! Moony we’ll figure it out, don’t worry. We can give her a strong sleeping draught tonight and sneak out after.” James reassured Remus. 

Remus was even more on edge than usual. Having you nearby and the approaching moon had his skin on fire and he just wanted to get the moon over and done with. Luckily for everyone, you had decided that your hangover was still plaguing you so you decided to spend the night in the hospital wing. 

S.O.S. she's in disguise

S.O.S. she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

The moon had been incredible. More than that. Remus had never felt so amazing and free. He was surprised, however, that he wasn’t back in the shack when he came to. He was shaking when he saw Sirius, James, and Peter staring over him concern written all over their faces. 

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked. 

“There was another wolf. You couldn’t keep away from each other. We have no idea where she came from.” Sirius was wringing his hands. They helped Remus up and were starting to head back to the shack when they saw someone stumble out of the woods and collapse at the edge of the clearing. 

“That must be the other wolf.” James said. The boys all ran, with Sirius supporting Remus still, over to the collapsed figure. 

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. 

“There’s a she-wolf in disguise.” Sirius looked up at James, who could only stare down at your unconscious body below them. 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Steve slides down the wall as soon as he’s in the bathroom, hands going to his hair, gripping hard as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Steve?” Robin says. “The door’s locked, it’s just us. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Robs, I look at her and all I see is bullshit, and I know she’s got questions, and fuck, she probably thinks I’m cheating on her, which I’d never do, but she- and Jonathan-”

“Whoa,” Robin says, grabbing his hands. “Deep breaths, Steve-o, we’re gonna make it through this. I will absolutely flirt with Nancy if it helps on the accusation front. I told Eddie the kids like D&D, so hopefully…” she trails off, listening, and they both smirk when they hear Eddie, already in character. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s a good guy,” Steve says. “And they’re good kids. Mostly.”

Robin snorts. “Mostly,” she agrees. “Listen, why don’t you break up with Nancy? Nothing else happens between the two of you, right? So we tell everyone what’s going on, you pull Nancy aside—I’ll come for moral support if you want—and explain what happens and tell her you can’t see her anymore.”

“You don’t think it’ll mess with the whole timeline thing?”

“Steve. Buddy. We’re telling a group of twelve-year-olds about something that happens four years in the future. The timeline’s well and truly fucked. You weren’t happy with her, not after Barb, right? Because the stories you told me painted you as being miserable.”

Steve sighs. Reclaims one of his hands to run it through his hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. And hey,” she says, moving to sit next to him. “Maybe if you break up with her now, you can do something about your crush on a certain someone.”

“Robs, c’mon,” he complains. “Even if I did, what happens after? When we go back to ‘87? Are there three years of memories I don’t have? Do we break up before you and I go back, and pick it up again four years later? And what if we fail and he dies anyways? What then, Robin?”

She leans her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I dunno, Dingus. But hey, I’m here.”

He offers her a half-smile before laying his head on hers. “Yeah. You are.”

A knock on the door startles them. “Uh, Steve?” It’s Nancy. She sounds oddly apprehensive. “Eddie’s doing a great job at keeping the kids occupied, but we’d all like to know what’s going on.”

Steve sighs and pushes his face into Robin’s hair for a second before turning back to the door to answer. “Yeah. We’ll be right there.”

Nancy doesn’t answer. The first time around, it was something Steve had found endearing. She didn’t have time to waste on meaningless words. Now, it irks him a little bit.

“C’mon,” Robin says gently. “You can fall apart again after, but there’s no use catastrophizing over something that hasn’t happened yet.”

He quirks his mouth up at her. “Right, ‘cause you’ve never been dramatic a day in your life.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a band kid, Steven, of course I’m dramatic.” She begins to smirk. “Besides, not like you mind when it’s-”

“Okay,” he says, but they’re both smiling as he unlocks the door.

They go downstairs and he smiles at the sight of everyone on the couch, enraptured, as Eddie’s crouched on the coffee table, eyes wide, monologuing. Steve casts his eyes around, taking everyone in, and starts to frown. “Where’s El?”

Nancy’s the first to break out of the reverie. She looks around, brows furrowed, then slaps at Mike’s arm until he slaps back. “What?”

“Where’s El?”

“She’s right- oh.” Saucer-wide eyes turn to Nancy. “I don’t know.”

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

[strgrlxox]

pretty little thing.

✟ ꙳ original request here ! i've been so excited to write for college!james and this was the perfect chance 😘💋❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ this is literally just be not knowing how sports/college sports work for abt 800 words ꙳ ✟

he was so nervous beforehand, of course he tried to pretend like he wasn’t but he knew him better than that. it was the first game of the year and james, who got a scholarship for playing this very sport, felt like he was the worst on the team.

when he was still in school, playing against other teenagers, it was easier to be better than everyone else. now, he felt like all his talents were nothing short of average. 

you tried to comfort him as best as you could and it helped most of the time, but right now as you watched james pace around his dorm room, you weren’t even sure if it would work.

“james, it’ll be fine, love.” you smile at him from your spot on the edge of his bed. “you’ll do great, know you will.”

he couldn’t even process your words, his nerves eating at him. so you try a different method, standing from the bed and smoothing down your glittery skirt. you stand in front of him and he doesn’t even look your way until you grab both sides of his face and pull him towards you. lips meeting his because he could always kiss you and make you forget everything––how to stand and how to breathe. sometimes, he’d kiss you and you’d forget about all the air in the world except for what was in his lungs. he filled you with his love and got you drunk off his tender kisses. you only hoped you could provide him the same comfort. you place a hand on his chest, smiling into his mouth when you feel his heartbeat calm down. you release his mouth, still smiling at him, “you’ll do great, jamie.”

and he did. he scored at the last seconds and they won the game. you were so proud.

you had hugged and kissed him afterwards, “i told you so’s” dripping from your lips. he kissed you again, making you feel all dizzy.

he took you back to his dorm room after you promised to stay the night. he’d put you on his bed, the still-fresh adrenaline leaking from his veins––––too enraptured with you and your body to care about the aching in his bones. 

“you were so good out there, angel.” he kissed up your neck, letting his hands trail up your skirt. you laugh at the fact that he was praising you for your cheers when he was the reason the team won the game. 

“no, you were so good.” you try to hold back moans with the way his lips felt trailing on his skin panting out loud instead. “i barely blinked so that i could watch the whole thing.”

he shoots you a look, his eyebrows raised. “oh, yeah? what’d you think?” 

“took everything not to drop my pompoms and kiss you when you scored those points at the end.”

“hmm, maybe you should have just done it.” he smiles into your flesh and it’s contagious. “would’ve loved it if everyone knew that i got so lucky to be able to call the prettiest cheerleader mine.”

he looked at you with lust blown eyes and you couldn’t help but grow excited, even if you knew he was worn out already. “james, you’re probably exhausted.”

he laughed, “not yet.”

which is how you ended up with your legs on his shoulders while he pounded into you relentlessly.

“s'like this is my reward for doing so well, hm?” his tone is so condescendingly sweet. “best prize in the world.”

he told you to leave your skirt on, opting to just pull it up instead of removing it completely. his eyes are trained to the way the shimmering cloth moves as he thrusted into you…seeing you in his colors especially after he won the game did something to him.

“tell me how good i did.” he’d pant above you and you can barely fucking a reply, it’s more of a moan actually…something akin to “so good, jamie.”

“say it again.” he moaned out, the sound making you clench around him. “come on, pretty little thing. one more time, please? needa hear it.”

‘so fucking good, jamie. you did s––oh shit.” your words get caught in your throat when he thrusts into you deeper. “fuck, james you’re doing so good.”

he can’t help but chuckle at how far gone you are, loving how only he could get you like this.

“you like being my prize, don’t you?” he’s teasing and you love it. he’s fucking you out of your mind so you can’t even answer his question so instead you just moan louder while he fucks with every once of his remaining energy.

“god, i love you. my little cheerleader.”

[mins-fins]

something — [ mahae — 엔시티. ]

where it's a usual dooming situation, your good old powder keg that'll result in chaos | now playing ☁︎

mark lee is absolutely doomed.

which, in hindsight, is completely foreseeable. it's a little irrelevant to the current motion of this overly dramatic festivity. if there's one thing your family loves, it's a good party. the guest list is packed with quite literally every patron settled in your neighborhood, ranging from the decades old family friends to the barely perched neighbors who probably only accepted the invite because it they wouldn't have to cook for the night.

and of course, they drag, they drag for so long that mark has become accustomed to staying up late on literal school nights. it was a little bit of a shocker to eight year old mark when he was allowed to tag along to one of your parents' overly excited outings with his eyes staying open past eight pm.

they throw parties for every single occasion, but this one is especially important, because you're home. your parents are anything but lazy, they decorated as if you had come back from serving for your country, in reality, you had just studied overseas for a good half a year.

communication over technology wasn't easy for them, so the moment you got back, they made sure to remind everybody of your presence. the party soon came around the corner, and now.. here we are.

it isn't as if mark didn't see you for a whole year and a half, the attachment you have is.. special, still, the whole occasion instates a feeling of longing he doesn't exactly know the specific origins of.

"are they really giving out gift cards? it's not like you enlisted or something.." mark mutters, pouring lemonade from the large glass jug into a mere cup.

"you know how they are, one year without me and they go crazy" your laughter is pretty, the small nudge you offer mark along the lines of an affectionate gesture.

"they're a little too attached aren't they?"

"normal for parents" you again share another smile with him, rolling your eyes. mark listens as you begin exchanging greetings with many familiar faces, as they again act as if you'd left forever. it was just a year.

maybe mark just doesn't get it.

he clears his throat at the lack of attention, but he can't exactly control the volume of his action, which results in you turning your head towards him. heat immediately coils along his skin, a tint of red spreading across his cheeks. he sneaks a glance peripherally, but you're already looking.

god you look enamored by him.

it's so stupid, maybe mark is just looking at it through rose tinted glasses. you're just naturally like that, the stupid fucking enraptured looks you share with everyone are just that, looks. you don't even realize the extent of your affect, mark is absolutely going crazy.

the jewelry hanging around your neck shines under the light of the barely peeking sunlight, and you straighten your posture as you sigh. "you missed me right?"

mark narrowly holds back his true words, opting for a feigned reply of stubbornness; "barely".

"sure mark" you offer your hand for him to take, and the stubborn front doesn't last for long, the intertwining of your fingers is smooth, soft, an action performed so many times that it becomes it's own trademark.

you glance down at your wrist watch, nose scrunching. "hyuck is gonna be late".

mark assumes his glare must be hidden by the fleeting euphoria of his own eyes. why talk about donghyuck when he's right here holding your hand? isn't mark enough for you?

okay, that's too much, an entitled way of thinking.

he hums instead.

your smile reaches your eyes. "okay, enough about everything else, what did you get up to while my angelic presence was absent?"

"don't be so full of yourself" mark whispers, just barely hears over the feat of childish laughter filling the outside air. "i did what i usually do, got a new job at the huang's ice cream place, made music on my laptop.."

"same hobbies?"

"same hobbies".

your laughter is laced with elation, maybe mark would actually be able to focus if you weren't so pretty. you don't even have to do anything, what kind of a person has a melodic rhythm to their laugh? one that is so pleasant it makes the recipient feel as if they now have to purposefully crack jokes?

"this new color fits you" you swipe your index finger against a single strand, removing his hand and ruffling the rest with your fingers. "and this hat is stupid".

mark frowns, but he then snickers. "chose the first thing i could find".

"green doesn't fit with the atmosphere" in the most hypocritical chess move, you place the hat atop your head, whistling as you level at your best friend with a inquiring glance. "looks better on me right?"

mark sucks his teeth in a feat that isn't genuine irritation. you lean just the slightest bit closer, and mark again takes in your close up facial features. your identical moles and the shape of your eyes, yeah, nothing's really changed, you've always been just as beautiful up close.

it'd be a good time to kiss you.

but mark can't give into his desires so blatantly, not in this huge expanse of a backyard, not while both your parents stand no more than a few feet away, not with eyes clearly burning through the back of his head.

but is it mark's fault you look so kissable?

no, he doesn't think so.

"never" mark attempts to swipe the hat back, but you avoid his hand, a muttered curse leaving his lips as yours turn upward in retaliation. there's a gleam of victory shining behind your eyes, and even with the vexation, mark finds you so.. gosh he can't even explain it. would attractive be the correct word?

"hey, let me keep it for a while okay?"

"y/n".

you shrug your shoulders as you begin walking towards the snack table, a small breath escaping mark in reply. he trails behind you with a smile concealed by his petty anger, your whistling filling the air. "it's my welcome back party!"

see? mark lee is most definitely doomed, he can barely even keep his irritation at a seemingly natural level when it comes to you. you're just too..

"hey, you know jeno's asking for you right?"

mark gets brought back to reality by your words, and he again takes your hand in a rushed moment he can't even explain himself. you pause as you stare, but you don't mention it, simply chuckle. "jeno is obsessed".

"come on, let's go".

absolutely doomed, he won't be able to recover.

lee donghyuck seems to have a much easier time.

it's the same old story, yet he has a high advantage in comparison to everyone else. charm is everything, he's learned that well enough, and he's charming to most.

he's adored by your parents, his immediate toothy grin practically put them in the palm of his hand. is it really that manipulative if it was all natural? seven year olds can't exactly manipulate the adults around them.

they love a good party, and so do his own parents. if not for opportunity to get drunk, but also so they can drag him out without receiving a no.

and the only reason they wouldn't receive a no is because you're the center of the discussion.

"oh you dyed your hair now?"

donghyuck's eyes glimmer in something he can only describe as euphoric, it's completely your fault. all your fault, who gives you the right to have such a pretty smile?

your gaze zeroes in on his black hair, and you yelp as donghyuck almost lifts you from the ground with the sheer force of his hug. "y/nie!"

if it was a usual day you'd complain about the volume of his voice, but you'll give him a pass. he starts with his onslaught of attacks, if the cheek kiss was crazy, then neck kisses can only be described as outrageous.

but those are all regular donghyuck actions, you can barely be perturbed by his uncanny proceedings at this point, knowing him for so long does that to a person. you simply him and lean back, whistling. "okay, okay, calm down hyuckie".

donghyuck simply smiles, feigned innocence behind those fierce eyes. "sorry for the lateness, i had a thing".

"oh i don't care, i missed you".

well that's just lovely.

it's a contrast to how mark sees all of it, it isn't usual for donghyuck to get tripped up by the easiest of things. you're pretty, he can admit that, but anyone with two good eyes can see that. you could look smitten by any little thing, you could stare enchanted by any person (and maybe there's one particular person donghyuck loathes in specific), those aren't anything.

but maybe it's the way you speak that has a tint appearing on his face. you've always articulated your words in a way that could make anyone beam, donghyuck wants to gatekeep them sometimes.

"aww, really, i knew it!"

you stay stuck on the strands of his hair, your index finger twirling a strand. he blinks, yet he manages to keep his composure. he can't give himself away, not while your standing so close. "both you and mark dyed your hair.."

mark. that's funny. why talk about mark when donghyuck is right here? right here for you to admire with his eyes blinking a look of fondness right at you. "oh, so you've seen mark already?"

"mark always comes early".

donghyuck doesn't care that much about mark, shouldn't it be about him now? call him self centered or whatever, but he thinks when he's in front of you, talking about mark is just.. stupid.

"enough about other things, how was portugal?"

his arm comes to link with yours, the press of your bodies together completely intentional. maybe mark will see, he hopes mark will see, donghyuck does like to think of himself as the superior one in this little competition of theirs.

you shrug as you again begin whistling, your ramble starts off with a comment about the country's scenery. donghyuck won't communicate it verbally, but he missed you too, missed your cute little giggles and the pauses in between your detailed rambles. he doesn't think of himself as doomed in the same manner as mark, no, he's the one with a real chance, isn't he?

you cut yourself off with a small laugh as you mutter something funny midway through your story, and you lightly nudge donghyuck. his eyes flitter upward, catching your own in the process.

the glow of your eyes is full of bewitchment. it should be illegal for you to stare at anyone like that, can anyone really blame donghyuck for feeling the way he feels when you stare like that? it's not unheard of to develop feelings for a childhood friend, especially when said childhood friend is so.. lovely.

lovely is the best word he can think of for this.

"are you going back next year?"

"yeah, i'm only around for the summer, i've gotten much too involved".

donghyuck's jaw clenches momentarily, but he masquerades it as uncomfortableness at the flies swirling around him. "okay then, let's make sure we spend good time together this summer".

you hum in reply, laughing at some unintelligible thought in your mind as you again stare at your friend.

donghyuck usually isn't a weak man, really, a mere smile can't render him bashful.

your eyes hold universes that he wishes to get lost in.

would it be so bad to kiss you in the moment?

he presses his own lips together, thoughts steady in his mind.

is it really donghyuck's fault you look so kissable?

absolutely not.

he almost gave in to the desire of being reckless, but his worst nightmare (hyperbole) comes rounding the corner in a feat of a few seconds.

"listen, they're too spicy, you know i don't have a good tolerance" mark's mumble stretches until he glances up and catches sight of the particular scene.

there's a hint of his eye twitching, donghyuck narrowly holds back his own giggle, it's invigorating how mark gets pissed off. he then smiles at the sight of you, even if the irritation slowly slips through. "hi donghyuck".

"mark! it's been a while hasn't it?"

it's only to get a scowl from him, the hug is simply an action he knows will get a kick, but mark can't display such vexation so clearly around you, he knows better than to ruin a party because of childish jealousy. he frowns in your direction, and you snicker, completely oblivious to his genuine turmoil.

"y/n told me he's here all summer".

"yeah i know it's just.." mark's face scrunches as he shoves donghyuck backward, though gently enough that his true animosity is hidden enough. "i was looking for you for like twenty minutes".

"well i didn't run away or anything, i just found him and i missed him so" you roll your eyes, poking donghyuck in the shoulder. mark clears his throat, and you level at him with a look of indifference.

you whistle, observing the lights your parents decided to hang up, knowing this party would go on for longer than it was supposed to. your hands settle behind your back, gaze remaining upward. "it's been a while since it was just the three of us huh?"

reminiscing about old times is the one thing you can't help but do, under the bright lights and surrounded by people you've know for.. forever just brings out something saddening in you.

mark's glare settles, but he avoids donghyuck's eyes. you blink as you stare at him, but then you shake your head. "anyway, i think my mom would be happy to know your here, come on" you nudge donghyuck forward with your shoulder, and there's barely anything behind mark's eyes as he watches the scene.

but before you walk away, you then turn back to look at him, eyebrows furrowing. "mark" you start softly, offering a pinch to donghyuck's shoulder that draws a wince. "come" you motion your head forward, basically telling mark to tag along.

and really, who is mark to disagree?

maybe the two could shut up for once, they could be civil, it's not like it's out of this world.

it's for your sake, they can save the chaotic blow for another time.

[vulpixisananimal]

Hunger: Carrion!Sif

The smell of cooking meat was tantalizing. It made Siffrin’s insides squirm and ache in hunger. It’d been a while since they’d had any good meat on their journey. The last stretch of rocky cliff sides had already frozen in time, any animals that hadn’t escaped had already been picked up by passing birds. Anything that had escaped was smart enough to hide. The group made so on wild berries and dried rations, but the strips of jerky weren’t enough.

He needed fresh meat.

He needed it, craved it, was tempted to shove the chef aside and burn themselves to get it that much faster, but there was no sense in hurting himself, so he waited.

Not a moment too soon, the chicken was served. There were vegetables and stuff on the sides, but those were just garnish so far as he was concerned, flavoring at most. It was put in front of him, a chicken leg quarter, bone-in dark meat, and any remaining decorum was used to keep inside your host’s skin, was used not to bring forth an inner pair of teeth to tear at it directly, was used to keep deluding yourself and everyone else into thinking you were human was forgotten.

Salted umami danced on his tongue, tender flesh giving away easily between teeth. Odile admonished him, but it fell on deaf ears. Isabeau apologized and a chef laughed it off as a compliment. Another chunk of flesh slid down his throat, barely chewed. It’d get dissolved, used, broken down, added to mass. Please, no more waiting, no more. It was enough to not crack your jaw open, to not shove it all in at once. Hungry teeth stripped the bulk of meat from bone in only a few minutes.

“Do you need more chicken, Siffrin?” Isabeau said.

“When I finish this one.” Grease dribbled down his chin only to be reclaimed by finger and tongue. Waste not, want not! And stars, he wanted so desperately.

“Are you not?” Odile said. “There’s basically only bone lef-“

CRUNCH

They spit out cartilage end of the drumstick, a small groan escaping as the soft bone beneath gave way. This was the best part of freshly cooked chicken, it made the bones tender, at least at the edges. Marrow filled his mouth, calcium crunching away better than why fried potato could dream. The inner bone was harder to bite through, but it could be splintered, bent, anything to get at the copper-sweet paste of fresh marrow. The drumstick lasted longer than easily cut flesh, but soon only the hardest potions remained. It was strangely tempting to try to swallow that whole, but it was commonly known chicken bone would scratch up your throat. Best to leave it.

There was still more.

Small bones, cartilage, and gristle all lined the inner thigh. Most was more trouble than it was worth, but there were places where blood had once pooled, dark pockets of rich iron. It was even more tender than flesh proper, only solidified by heat; a treat saved for last.

With only the barely-edible at best parts of chicken left on the plate and vegetables untouched, Siffrin looked up to find the rest of the group staring, their food barely touched. His innards squirmed uncomfortably. “Um… sorry. I, uh…” He squeaked, hiding under his hat. “I was hungry.”

“We can see that!” Isabeau said, trying to say it playfully, but clearly unsettled.

Mirabelle’s expression was hard to read. Nervous, certainly, but almost in the way one would be while watching a tense moment in a show. Enraptured, but horrified all the same.

Odile gave him a long stare and then sighed. “You are awfully pale, and you don’t take hits too well, and seeing you go after those bones… Gems, are you anemic? Here.” She handed her his plate, moving the chicken with a fork—a utensil he’d forgotten to use. “Too much fat is bad for someone my age anyways, and I’d rather you not end up fainting. But gems alive, use the cutlery.”

“Yes madame.”

He reeled it in better for the second course, sneaking his vegetables to everyone else’s plates. For however long it would last, he was not hungry.

This is AMAZING!!! Thank you so much for this, like, genuinely!! I haven't thought about pre-Dormont era at ALL and WOW!!! I'm defiantly tagging @traumaboyexo with this for Carrion stuff!!

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

p5 hs au where they’re mostly all musical theater losers except one day transfer delinquent akira decides to try out for the winter musical and gets the lead male role despite having absolutely no vocal and or acting experience at all and akechi—dedicated to his craft nerd, semi-spotlight hoarder—is infuriated at this, even more so that he was chosen to be this delinquent’s understudy despite readily earning all other male leads prior. to make matters worse akira seems to genuinely want his friendship and everyone else in the department adores him so akechi has to be cordial and their relationship slowly progresses from akechi laying in bed at night weighing the merits of poisoning akira right before opening night to him begrudgingly agreeing to help run lines in the goddamn attic of his uncle’s cafe that was supposedly his residence for the whole delinquent-expulsion thing he’d wedged himself into to him kind-of-sort-of-maybe enjoying his company outside of rehearsal more—platonically, obviously, no really, because goro didn’t even swing that way to begin with, just because he was a broadway geek didn’t make him gay, alright—he’d expected (sumire teases him about this relentlessly and it almost makes him want to pull a poisoning stunt on her instead. but then who would be the show’s leading lady?). and of course, the musical opens without a hitch, and goro sneaks into the audience for act I and wonders why he ever doubted kawakami’s casting in the first place, because akira’s voice is strong and melodic and echoes—yes, it fucking echoes throughout the cheap auditorium, mic and all—and there’s the slightest hint of perspiration upon his brow and goro can see the sheen of the makeup he’d applied to the former’s face long before the show had began, and, in any and all ways, he is the perfect prince eric to sumire’s ariel, and if there’s a something in his chest every time akira sings or acts or dances and absolutely enraptures the audience with his stupidly magnetic everything, goro chalks it up to the magic of theater. intermission arrives much too soon, and he sneaks backstage to revitalize the cast for a stellar act II, and suddenly akira is dragging him to a secluded dressing room, eyes wide and frantic and he tells him that he can’t do this, he’s not an actor, he’s not a singer, and he is certainly not a prince eric and at the end of all this rambling he tells goro that he has to go out there in the next act in his stead because god knows that he was more deserving of the role than akira himself ever was and he’s probably just making a huge fool out of himself and their entire department out on stage and sumire deserves a fellow lead who has far more experience and talent that he could ever provide—and then, there are lips on his. it’s quick and chaste because it is intermission after all, and they’re on a time crunch, but goro knocks their foreheads together, not caring in the slightest about tarnishing akira’s makeup, and they breathe in each other’s being, and, well, akira’s been wanting that kiss for far longer—the first time he saw goro—than he’s willing to admit, and when the former tells him to get it the fuck together because he’s killing it out there and also the crowd would probably beat akechi with hammers if he replaced him because, yes, akira’s performance had been so astonishing and riveting even only one act down so far, he laughs softly, helplessly perhaps, and then he nods, trying desperately not to cry because he doesn’t think he has the time to fix his makeup any more extensively than he already will have to in the next few minutes.

so akechi send akira back on stage to finish the musical, and he watches from the audience once more as the chemistry between the two leads, as well as just about everything akira does, enraptures the whole audience, and their performance concludes with deafening applause. they nearly collide with one another, both desperate to reach the other post-performance, and he hugs akira so tightly and laughs and cheers so loudly that it’s drawing slight attention, not that akechi would ever care about what anyone thinks anyways, and he certainly displays his lack of care for passerby-confusion when he’s pulling akira into a kiss so deep, so desperately-desired by both for so long that they’re lost in each other completely, so lost that they don’t hear sumire’s light, amused gasp or the click of ann’s polaroid, because why would they break a moment they both want to stay in forever? and akechi thinks to himself, maybe he could get used to this guy stealing his roles if it meant he gets to occasionally wake up in the attic above a homely little cafe with a cat purring next to him and grey eyes staring forever into his.

[zeebreezin]

So here’s the thing about Vincent Beverley, right. He’s a manipulative, sensation seeking sadistic little bastard with a career built on indoctrination and light torture. Vincent likes his work and the power that comes from being the smiling face of these things, and he loves his Isobel, and his favorite doctor, and if you’d ask the man, he’d say that’s all there really is to him. Vincent considers himself a pretty simple guy.

And honestly he’s not… wrong? But here’s the thing with Vincent Beverley - that’s not the name he was using when he came down to the Neath.

A Sardonic Charlatan took the name Vincent Beverley as part of yet another con - He’d stolen documentation form some poor soul signing into the navy, looking for a couple years at sea away from his debtors. The whole ‘London is in a hole’ thing did mess with his plans slightly, but well, he’s always been one to adapt.

He was never a good person, not really. Opportunistic and dry, willing to use a natural charm to skirt the law. But he wasn’t a monster. Eventually he fell into recruiting people for some new construction, or scientific project, way out on the western edge of the Zee. After that was finished, the Charlatan figured he’d be heading for the surface, cashing out and seeing how much his stories of the mysterious world below would sell for up above.

Because here’s the thing about the Sardonic Charlatan - they didn’t tell him what was going on.

I mean, why would the admiralty tell everyone on Station V about their project? It was a dangerous thing, something on a need to know basis, but of course there were rumours. Rumours and little distant flashes of light. No one really knew how dangerous stars really were, though, when they were trying to build one.

So on the day when the Dawn Machine turned on, when the chosen few were watching aboard the ships, as the rest carried on on Station V… no one really expected what happened. Especially not a Charlatan who was barely invested in the cause to begin with.

It was beautiful, at first. People crowded around railings and docks to catch a glimpse of the distant light. It was almost sunlight, they said, and after so long in the dark, no one could fault people for getting enraptured. But then people weren’t able to look away. And the ships way out by the machine, casting long shadows in the golden glow didn’t seem like they were going to come back. Then of course, people started to change.

Here’s the thing about the Sardonic Charlatan, though - as self serving as he could be, he wasn’t a monster.

When the people you’ve spent months with start to break apart, bleeding light and hymn from every wound, it doesn’t matter if you share their sailor’s comradery or goddamn patriotism, you’re going to do something about it. Perhaps for the first time in his life, the Charlatan grew selfless as chaos reigned in the birth of new law on Station V. He gathered the less affected somewhere dark, somewhere safe, and made a plan. They’d get their own ship, and they’d high tail it for London. They’d have to know what to do - or at the very least, they’d be safe there.

No one noticed as something began to creep into the Charlatan’s blistered lips, a harmonious lilt that wasn’t there days before. He hid his wounds, he tried to do what was right, and he tried to go back into the calm of the dark - he really, truly did.

But here’s the thing about him, and here’s the thing about her. It was already over.

He knew it, but he wouldn’t admit it. She knew, though, the quiet but witty mechanic the Charlatan recruited personally. She accepted the machine quickly - another love melding into one in a single breath. It wasn’t hard, by the time she found him, collapsed and shivering. Trying to swallow down whatever light he could. It was her words, though, that sealed his fate. Even still, the Sardonic Charlatan went out screaming.

The dawnlight wasn’t kind to him - the Sardonic Charlatan had never really believed in anything before, and it burnt through him without restraint. Whatever his name was, whoever he was before the navy, before this job, he’s nothing but embers now. He loves the woman that saved him, so long ago, but some days he can’t remember the first time they truly met. All that matters is that he’s whatever he needs to be to bring more people into the fold, to be remade, happier and far, far brighter.

Because here’s the thing about Vincent Beverley. He’s a pretty simple guy. Anything else is long gone.

Here’s a lil Vincent dialogue test for making it to the bottom of this post lmao!

“That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? People always seem to think of it the wrong way around! I don’t sell anyone anything, no, not really. I’ll admit it would be easier if I could just offer up a little slice of sunshine to anyone interested n’ be on my way, but… that’ll never really work. Dawnlight’s a powerful, beautiful thing, but there’s nothing like a human touch in this line of work. The secret’s simple: just be whoever they need you to be. A friend, a job prospect, a helping hand, a lover, a bringer of opportunity. The light comes later - and it will come later, don’t you worry. But once you offer sweet, lonely, desperate people just a little kindness? Well, then you’re already halfway there.”

[geasthewritingrat]

Proposing at the same time

Pairings; Ferdinand x reader, Hubert x reader, Claude x reader, Dimitri x reader, Yuri x reader (separate) Gender Neutral! Possibly OOC but I’ve just worked 6 days consecutively I’m tired (I also didn’t mean for Ferdie and Hubie’s to be so much longer than everyone else’s I promise)

Ferdie; -He spent so much time in multiple different towns, trying to find the best ring for you, and if he wasn’t so swamped with work he’d have made the ring himself, but he eventually settled on a gorgeous, elegant yet extravagant, jewelled band that suits you and your stunning beauty perfectly -The whole night was perfectly planned, from the time he calls for you, to the sweet speech he’d prepared (and rehearsed) over the course of many early mornings (Hubie caught him reading it in front of the mirror once and poor Ferdie’s never seen such pure amusement on anyone’s face) -It’s already all set up by the time you both reach the secluded meadow, blanket laid neatly in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers, yet not squishing too many, candles carefully placed so they don’t fall and burn everything to the ground, fireflies dancing in the moonlight, your favourite foods, lovingly handmade by Ferdinand himself, beautifully covered so none other than you two could enjoy it -A perfect night for the most perfect person in his eyes -Yet he completely forgets that he was meant to propose. Literally just, forgets. He’s so enthralled by your beauty and enraptured by your melodic voice that he forgets about the box in his pocket, forgets about the speech he made, forgets that he’s meant to ask you to share the rest of your lives together because in that moment it truly seemed as if you were the only people to exist -It’s only when you, having known his plan all along (he’s not subtle nor sly enough to hide it), pull out a box containing the ring you spent weeks choosing, showing it to him with a sheepish smile, that he remembers what he came there to do and scrambles to pull out the ring he chose for you -Very romantic, 10/10 -He later tells Dorothea everything that happened, dramatically lamenting the fact he never got to say his long, very sweet speech he had prepared, and she brings the whole ordeal up during her speech at the wedding

Hubie; -Oh Hubie, oh sweet, caring mother hen Hubie -As well-informed and sly as he is, he’s near-hopeless when it comes to romance, so when he found out you were taking trips to various jewellers searching for rings he genuinely thought you were just browsing for yourself, even if its not usually your type of thing (or, maybe you were looking at rings for him, to coax him out of his glove-wearing obsession) -With how much time he spent also at the same jewellers that you visited (he thought you were better with accessories than him so he followed your lead in secret) you’d think he would wisen up and figure it out but no, it takes the jeweller themself mentioning you for him to realise you were looking for engagement rings and not everyday rings -He found a ring that he thought would be perfect for you and the jeweller mentioned that you’d been eyeing that one and that’s what finally made him clock on to what all your trips had truly been for -Not wanting to be taken by surprise with no way to smoothly recover and act like he has everything perfectly planned all the time, he carries the ring with him everywhere he goes, even if you’re not nearby or maybe even in a whole other city doing work stuff -After a talk with Edelgard, he decides to plan something special to show that he does, in fact, absolutely adore you and everything you do, but he does still keep the ring with him in a special pocket that he refuses to use for anything else -It happens at a time that neither of you had prepared (the dinner he had planned was set for a week later, and you were gonna do it later the next night), you two were just sitting by the waterfront one warm afternoon, gazing out at the glittering lake before you, when you felt peaceful and relaxed enough to ask him to close his eyes as you stood to kneel behind him, ring box in hand -He’s smart (sometimes) and knows exactly what you’re doing, so he takes the ring box out of his pocket and displays it proudly as he turns around once you tell him you’re ready

Claude; -Fecker knew the whole damn time -Somehow knew from the moment you thought to yourself “huh, I think I wanna marry Claude” -He mentions to Hilda one day that he’s 99% sure you’re out shopping for engagement rings at that exact moment, and then says “hey you know what would be really funny” and decides that he, too, would be proposing after you spent so much time & effort planning everything with your second closest confidant (whoever that may be) -So when you finally muster up the courage to take him to a gorgeous beach one evening after a satisfying dinner, he’s got this unusual, unreadable grin on his face, hands behind his back as he fiddles with the little velvet box containing the ring he oh so lovingly chose for you, only to trip and fall, grabbing you by the arm and bringing you down with him -Now, two identical ring boxes lay on the sand in front of you, and Claude’s sheepish “surprise?” almost makes up for the mouthful of sand you’re now having to spit out -He’s laughing and you’re eating sand

Dima; –Absolutely clueless -You two proposing at the same time really is just pure chance -He didn’t even know you were planning on proposing in the first place! Okay maybe he had a slight hunch but he didn’t want to ask in case he was wrong and it was just wishful thinking on his part -Dimitri (lovely Dima, gorgeous man, amazing) asks the Blue Lions for help with choosing the right ring and planning the perfect date, some help more begrudgingly than others (looking at you Felix Hugo Fraldarius), but in the end he has a solid plan and a pretty damn gorgeous ring, all he needs now is self confidence and you -A while before the actual event, he tells you that he’s taking you to see some of Faerghus’ most beautiful snowy areas, promising countless tales from his childhood, and you decide that that’s the perfect time to propose, because it sounds phenomenal and you had no idea Dimitri was planning on proposing then too -When you two reach the absolutely stunning and truly wondrous area, you pull out your ring box and get on one knee, only to see Dimitri blink a few times before doing the exact same thing, blushing hard and smiling wide

Yuri; -He found out your plan by accidentally going to the same jeweller as you at the same time as you, seeing you carefully inspecting the engagement rings as he got through the door, but because he’s Yuri mf Leclerc you didn’t see him as he stood in the shadows and observed your choice -It made him feel all warm & fuzzy inside so he searches high and low for The Best Ring Ever to give to you -From that point onwards, he’s taking the ring with him whenever you ask him to join you on an outing, no matter how big or small that outing may be, but to his surprise you don’t propose on any of those trips -One day, he’s been working non stop for hours, so you waltz into his office and all-but drag him to the dining table, lecturing him about how he needs to eat properly even if his work is very important, and since he just thought it was a normal dinner he didn’t take the ring with him -To his shock, you end up spontaneously proposing after you both finish eating, confessing that you were planning to propose on each of those little trips you took him on, only for it to not feel right or for nerves to get the better of you, so you decided to do it in a place you both feel comfortable and at ease -He accepts, obviously, but then takes you back to his office to show you that he bought you a ring too, slipping it straight onto your finger

- Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! As always I have been Geas and you have been awesome, never forget that. I hope that you are giving yourself a break and treating yourself fairly, because while things may seem like they’re spinning out of control sometimes, you are stronger and better than you know. -

[zoeykallus]

Hi! I love your writing!

You are super! 💕❤💕

Keep it up!💪🥰

How would Crosshair (whole tbb can be too) react to reader who is very nice and smiles all the time? Would it annoy him? Does her smile mean he just can't be mean to her?

👉👈 I sorry and thank you! ❤

Aloha!

Thanks! 😁😊 I'm trying!

Interesting idea.... Sorry you had to wait so long for this, still digging through my inbox like Scrooge McDuck through his money 😅 meaning there is a lot in there...

Okay, let's see...

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - The Eternal Smile

_________________________

Let's start with your favorite...

Crosshair

Don't get the wrong ideas, he can be mean to everyone, even more so to the ones close to him (In well-measured doses, mostly). Teasing is part of his love language.

Before he gets more or less used to it, it will make him feel uneasy at first.

At some point, you will hear a grumpy, "Your smile is cute, but you don't have to smile every time I say something."

You shrug and say, "I like listening to you, I like you, why shouldn't I smile when you say something"?

He doesn't know how to respond to that for now. He will occasionally roll his eyes or frown about it, but he actually likes to see you smile. Crosshair likes you, but he won't tell you that right away. Have a little patience and don't let him upset you, he would never want you to be sad. That's just the way he is.

At a certain point, you are no longer called kitten for him, but smiley face, affectionately of course.

Echo

Generally, he is enraptured by your smile. The first time you smile at him, he warms up and gives you a shy smile back. Echo loves your warm, affectionate nature, and he enjoys that smile.

He likes to imagine that this soft, little grin, belongs to him alone.

"You look so pretty when you smile," he tells you dreamily.

In the background, Crosshair hums, "I wonder what she looks like when she's not smiling."

Echo frowns and says, "Beautiful, too."

"How would you know? She smiles even when she sleeps," the Sniper sneers.

Echo raises his brows and asks dryly, "You watch her when she sleeps?"

Crosshair looks at him, startled, then at you.

"No!" he says hastily and runs off in a hurry.

Echo looks at you again with a smirk. He can't get enough of you.

Wrecker

He is a lively, cheerful guy. Wrecker has a big heart, and he loves people who are kind and loving. In your presence he feels very comfortable, that smile has enchanted him, he can not get enough of it.

Wrecker will do anything to see you smile and laugh, compliments, jokes, small loving gestures. You have his full attention, as soon as that adorable smile appears on your lips, he is like under a spell.

Tech

He smiles back shyly each time. Tech likes your warm nature. Most of all, he likes how attentively and well you listen. He likes to open up to you and share all kinds of new ideas.

Tech likes to be in your company; you make him feel understood. Even though you don't really understand everything he tells you, it feels like you understand what makes him tick, and he appreciates your warm patience.

When he tells you something, and you smile at him, it warms his heart. Apart from echoing, most people stop listening at a certain point or tell him to stop talking, but not you. Tech is now addicted to every little smile from you.

Hunter

He smiles back, of course, clearly, with a wink now and then. Hunter loves your smile, the way it makes your face shine. He may not always understand how you can be so patiently cordial, but he really likes that quality about you.

He feels comfortable with you, feels at home, or the way he imagines the cozy feeling of a good home. Hunter likes to flirt, your smile is practically like an invitation, a welcome invitation. You should expect him to compliment you more often and say nice things to you whenever he sees your smile.

He often brings you flowers from the road when he was out in nature, just to see your sweet, grateful little smile.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@taskfork-archive

@cpnt616

@starwarsnerd111

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 7.5 - Yandere!Prince!Sehun + Overstimulation & Possession

Anonymous Said: Heyyooo!! A request for kinktober Can you do Yan!royalty!Sehun of Exo with possession and overstimulation 

A/n: Of course I can! Royal!EXO is always welcome on my blog ehehehe

Word Count: 756

Kinktober 2022 Mini Masterlist

When you told Sehun that he could do whatever he wanted to you tonight (within reason, of course), you never expected that this is what he had in mind. Not that you’re complaining. He’s making you feel the best you’ve ever felt in your life, and you’re sure to tell him, much to his satisfaction.

“Say it again.” He growls lowly into your ear, nipping at the skin of your neck in the next moment as he rolls his hips into yours teasingly. “Who is making you feel this good?”

“You,” you moan out, legs trembling as you feel his cock brushing up against your sensitive walls. He’s already brought you to ecstasy three times already, and you have a feeling that he’s nowhere near done with you yet. “Fuck, Sehun!”

“That’s it, baby,” he hums. “Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“My Prince,” your walls flutter around him yet again and he lets out a grunt in response, hearing as you choke on a whimper in the next second.

“Shh,” he coos at you, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face as he stares deeply into your eyes. “Just let me take care of you, beautiful. Let me bring you pleasure that only I can.”

Again, he grinds his hips into yours, claiming your lips with his own as he swallows your moans. Your brow furrows, breath hitching as he brushes up against that special spot inside of you for the nth time that night.

“Too much,” you whine, whole body jolting as he hits that spot inside of you once more.

“You can take it, can’t you, beautiful?” His voice is low, encouraging all the same. “Just one more for me. Come on, you can do it. Give me one more.”

As if to emphasize his words, his one hand comes down between the both of you, fingers toying with your swollen clit as he begins to pick up his pace. Each drag of his cock along your walls has him seeing stars, loving the way you squeeze him so perfectly. Just like he knew you always would.

Finally, you’ve let him indulge in you, in all of the fantasies he’s only ever dreamed of coming to life. Sehun’s not going to let this opportunity go to waste. After all, when It comes to you, he’s insatiable.

“My baby,” he growls, snapping his hips into yours with a particularly sharp thrust that has you moaning his name so sweetly for him. “All mine.”

You hum, “My Prince.”

The way he feels your arms travel up his back, hands tangling in his hair so as to guide his mouth to yours makes his head spin. This is everything he could have ever wanted, and so much more. You really have no idea what you do to him, about what he would do for you.

“Come with me, beautiful,” he pleads, increasing the pressure of his fingers on your clit and loving how you throw your head back in pleasure in response. “That’s it, let yourself go.”

Your whole body shakes as the weight of your fourth orgasm of the night crashes into you, Sehun following close behind. He holds you close to him as he feels your walls convulsing around him, his warmth releasing deep inside of you and painting you with his seed like he’s always desired.

Your breaths mingle as you both come down from your highs, his face buried in the side of your neck. Soothingly, you run your fingers through his hair.

Supporting himself with his arms, Sehun moves off of you, pulling out of your still sensitive entrance and causing your whole body to twitch from overstimulation. He smirks, kissing his way down your chest and all the way to your leaking entrance where he watches your mixed releases leak out of your tight hole.

Lifting your head, you look down at him with mild confusion on your face. The way you watch his eyes darken as you continue to clench around nothing, causing your juices to drip out of you has you swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so enraptured by anything in his life. Well, other than you, of course.

A cry of his name escapes your lips as you feel him lave his tongue over your folds, sloppily spreading your release over your sensitive entrance before flicking at your clit.

He chuckles, meeting your gaze once more, “Come on, beautiful, just one more.”

[fe-fictions]

Help this wouldn’t leave my head: Yuri’s toddler of a daughter gives him a makeover using his makeup. What shenanigans ensue, nonetheless how Yuri’s spouse reacts to it?

(WE LOVE THIS IDEA???)

No one would have ever pegged the mischievous and mysterious Yuri Leclerc for a family man. But that was before he fell head over heels for the Archbishop of Fodlan.

He was enchanted, and it was a wonderful thing. You looked up at him with such adoration in your eyes, and he returned it ten-fold…sometimes with an actual, genuine smile (and in public, no less).

So even with the surprising shift in his demeanor, what pleasantly surprised evryone was the arrival of the young couple’s daughter.

The baby was perfect in every way, and both parents were absolutely enraptured by her. It was incredible to watch the aloof Yuri become a doting husband and father. Especially when she started to get a mind of her own. 

Her first four years flew by, and it wasn’t long before she was running around the monastery, adored by everyone whose classes she crashed (until Uncle Seteth plucked her up and returned her to one of her parents with yet another stern reminder to keep an eye on her…and of course would be ignored).

But there was one day in particular that surprised even you.

And it started when you had your day filled with meetings and bureacracy, but Yuri had himself a day off. Which meant he would be taking care of the young Lady Leclerc on his own.

“Come, my dear. We have a full day ahead of us, don’t we?” He mused, all but scooping her up from her bed before she was even completely awake.

She yawned, a sweet, dopey smile on her lips when she realized it was her father peppering her face in kisses.

“Mornin’, Papa.”

“Good morning dearest one.” He hummed, “Did you know that you and I will have the whole day to ourselves? Well, once Mama gets dressed and ready for the day.”

“I absoluI didn’t know.” She replied with great surprise in her voice, eyes widening at the revelation.

Yuri grinned, tucking a curl of lavender hair behind her ear. “Then you should quickly come up with activities for us to do, today. We only have a single day to ourselves, so we must make it count.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I will do whatever it is that my daughter wishes to.” He replied as smooth as ever, earning a fit of happy (if not slightly mischievous) giggles.

The pair returned to the ARchbishop’s quarters wswiftly enough, just in time to see you stretching in your seatbed, lazily propped against the pillows in a feeble attempt to get up.

“Mornin’, Mama!”

“There she is,” You smiled sleepily as your husband returned to the bedside, “Is today your daddy-daughter date with Papa?”

“Yeah,” She replied, briefly wiggling out of her father’s arms so that she could sit in your lap. You watched as she climbed in, snuggling into your arms. “But I didn’t know ‘til Papa woke me up.”

“So he surprised you with it? How very sweet of him!” You hummed, strokin gher hair softly.with a thoughtful smile. “And have you been plotting out hwat you’ll be doing with him?”

“I don’t know! He asked me the same thing!” She exclaimed, pointin gback at her dad.

Yuri chuckled, offering a lazy shrug, “Well, there are many opportunities for fun, my dear. We don’t have to come up with them right away.”

“True…you’ll have a full day of joy and delightfun while I’m trapped in meetings all day…it will be….much less fun for me.”

“Don’t worry, Mama. When you have a day off, we’ll have lots of fun, too.” She said sweetly, not knowing that her mother’s duties as Archbishop meant a day of was rarer than any other da in the yaer.

“Thank you pet.” You managed a pinched smile, which Yuri offerd a kiss to your hand and a reassuring grin.

“Fear It won’t be long before you have a day of your own. I’ll call in a few favors.” 

His promise was reassuring, but as a realistic former mercenary, it made more sense to bet on the opposite. There were some things that not even Yuri could pull off…and sneaking in a day off for you had been one of  years.

‘Well, don’t let me interrupt your day. I’ll be dressed and i’ll dress and be out of your hair so you can enjoy your time togther.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Your daughter beamed up at you, giving you one last hug.

Somehow, the two of you had managed to raise a perfectly sweet little girl.

It didn’t make any sense to you, personally, but you weren’t complaining.

Yuri saw you off with a similar barrage of kisses (though these were far more searing, considering he was head over heels for you). 

“All right, then- now that we’re finally on our own, what shall we do?” He wondered aloud, hands on his hips while his daughter bounced on the bed.

“We gotta get dressed too, so we can start our day!” She realized, pointing at him. “I can pick out your clothes, and you can pick out mine, Papa!”

“That is an excellent idea.” He agreed wholeheartedly, “I did raise a daughter with impeccable fashion sense, after all. Let’s get started.”

He led her to the dresser, and after careufl consideration from both parties, they settled on an outfit that Yuri would likely never set foot in public wearing. 

However, the love he held for his daughter transcended all sense of shame or embarrassment. Especially when he knew that the Archbishop alone would get to see this; and that you would likely find it adorable that your daughter wasnted to dress him so badly.

“Okay! You look amazing, Papa!” She decided with a happy grin, “Now you get to pick mine, right?”

“Yes, of course. We shall hurry to your room after I have put my face together; I was so excited for our day together I did not get even a little ready ebfore I woke you. How silly.” He mused, only to elicit a sharp gasp from the young girl.

The epipany had struck, big time.

��Papa!! Can I help you put on your makeup?!” 

“Can you help me…?” He trailed off, the situation suddenly becoming much, much more serious.

You weren’t ever allowed to touch his makeup, after all. It was very precious, very expensive, and something he took immense pride in being able to wear perfectly each day. To waste such an imporatnt luxury to him would be truly tragic.

Ad yet…when he looked into those big, round, sparkling eyes…

Who was he to refuse her?

“Very well.” He finally conceded, “I will allow you to do my makeup, this morning.”

“Thank you, Papa!!” She exclaimed, bouncing away from him and making a break for the washroom. “Oh, I can’t wait!! I’m so excited to make Papa pretty!!”

“I’m sure you’ll execute flawlessly.” He followed behind her, feeling quite proud of his daughter. She was awfully precious already, but when she got passionate about something, it was a sight to behold.

She would without a doubt be formidable once she got older.

The pair of them were in teh washroom for quite a long time; so lnog that they didn’t even realize that you’d come back to the bedroo. Your initial mission was to retrieve a number of important documents Seteth tasked you with reviewing overnight. 

What madeyou stay was hearing excited voices behind the washroom door, and the distinct sound of giggling that was notable only when she was scheming something with your husband.

Intrigued, the papers were temporarily forgotten, and you went to the door, knocking gently.

“Is everything alright in there? It sounds like something very important is happening.”

“Everything is fine, my love. Did you forget something?”

“Initially I did, but it sounds like you’re having a lot of fun, in there. Am I allowed to take a peek?” You heard them whispering back and forth, debating whether or not his wife and mother of his child should be given entry to their secret mission.

Eventually your daughter giggled, and you heard her little hand on the door knob.

“Okay, Mama. Papa said you can come in if you say ‘please’.”

“Very well…may I please come in and see what you two are getting into?”

The door swung open, and two lilac-haired faces were beaming up at you. Though one face looked…rather different from usual.

A hand went to your mouth, his eyeliner dragged across the sides of his face, well past his eye (and over and under it). His eyeshadow had become blush, and any other form of makeup he had stashed away had been applied to his face, clothes and anywhere his daughter could reach.

“I see you’re speechless.” He quirked a lopsided eyebrow, “It appears you did even better than I thought you would, my dear. Your mother’s fallen in love with me all over again.”

“You’re so pretty, Papa!!” She grinned, arms open wide, “You’re sparkly!”

“It appears you did use some of the shinier powders, didn’t you.” He mused, running his fingers along his cheek and finding the shimmering dust on them. 

She nodded vigorously, before throwing herself at her mother’s legs. “Did I do a good job?”

“Oh, my dear, you did a wonderful job.” Your smile was broad and sunny, making Yuri’s heart skip a beat. You were so lovely when you were happy.

Particularly when it was at his expense.

“Perhaps we should get him cleaned up before the day starts, though.”

“What? Why??”

“Because I’m afraid he’s so beautiful now, it’ll make everyone else jealous when they see him.” Your argument was sound and reasonable, making her gasp with the realization.

“You’re right!! He’s already pretty…we don’t want them to be jealous he’s even more pretty.”

Yuri pulled her back to his side, pecking her cheek with a big, purple-pink lipstick-y kiss. 

“Let’s do as your mother says, then. She’ll need a wardrobe change before she leaves us behind.”

“What do you- oh.” Your off-white Archbishop’s gown was now covered in the residual colorful powders that your daughter had caked herself in, her sweet hug accidentally coating you in a rainbow of makeup.

It was Yuri’s turn to laugh.

“All right, that’s enough fun for the morning. Come along my darlings, let’s get ourselves cleaned up. I’ll have a messenger inform the counsel that you’ll be a bit delayed.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held his daughter to his hip, guiding the three of you from the washroom with sheer happiness giving him the sweetest glow.

There was nowhere he’d rather be than with his family.

Even if you were all smeared in makeup. 

(When Seteth saw what happened to the gown later that afternoon, Yuri received a harsh scolding).

[cainluvr69]

Let Me Tell You The Story Of A Rainbow - Chapter 7

Previous Chapter

Figaro: Sure, why not. I don't dislike how stubborn the two of you can be about this kind of thing.

Snow: Then we shall have you accompany us, Figaro dear.

White: Put that good nature up where everyone can see it!

Snow & White: Yaaaay!

Figaro: Alright. We're good and virtuous wizards, after all.

The twins cackled gleefully and disappeared into the depths of the exhibit hall with Figaro, and Murr and Shylock followed after them.

Murr: Hey, wouldn't it be easier for us to curry favor with the masses if some sort of crazy incident happened?

Shylock: Certainly, if the opportunity arises. But to desire such an opportunity before it arises…

Murr: Is that bad?

Shylock: No. You may desire whatever it is you wish. One never truly wants something bad to happen, but the seductive song of "What if?" is still irresistible.

Murr: What a good attitude! Let's imagine all the exciting possibilities together!

Shylock: Fufu. Unfortunately, that's not our role to play this time. It's far too easy to let any expectations slip our minds as we get enraptured by the extraordinary exhibits on display.

Murr: True enough! It'd be a tragedy if I didn't enjoy the fun stuff right in front of me and miss the chance to enjoy them forever!

Shylock: Of course. Now, shall we be off? Let us enjoy what we've been invited to enjoy to our hearts' content.

Faust was the next one to step forward, and a step behind was Lennox's large shadow across the floorboards.

Faust: I'm not exactly interested in doing this, but…if we're on official business, then that's that. I don't want to deal with the aftermath if something happens and they blame us for not dealing with it.

Lennox: It would just invite even more misunderstandings. You don't want the younger wizards getting yelled at during an emergency, right?

Faust: That's not why I'm doing this.

Lennox: The security arrangements are fairly rough. Shall we see if there's anywhere that needs an extra hand or two?

Faust: Yeah… This is a pretty big place, and it doesn't sound like all of the magic items on display are clustered together. Let's start from the top floor and work our way down.

Lennox: Alright. I'll stay with you.

Faust: Thanks. If you see anything weird, let me know so I can check it out. While I'm doing that, you can keep other visitors away from the exhibit in question while making sure they don't panic for no reason, and guide them out in case anything bad happens… Or…wait. Why are you going with me? Go somewhere else.

Lennox: But if I'm going to do anything, I think it'd be best for me to do what you just said.

Faust: …

Lennox: Should I not?

Faust: …Whatever. Do what you want.

Lennox: Yes, I most certainly will.

Nero: Hey, Riquet, I heard there's gonna be a buffet at the party on the last day.

Riquet: A…"buffet"…?

Nero held up a pamphlet to try and show Riquet what he was talking about, but Bradley snatched it out of his hands. He scanned it and whistled.

Bradley: Means y'get to pile yer plate with nothin' but stuff you like. You can take whatever you want and eat whatever you want. Lessee… Damn, they're gonna be serving a whole lot. I don't mind attendin' parties if it means I can eat my fill of good grub.

Riquet: Only eating the things you want to… Would one not fall into depravity?

Bradley: Hey, what's wrong with a little depravity here and there? You should do whatever you want and only what you want. You've never had the chance to eat in a place like this before, yeah?

Riquet: That's simply not right. Besides, with so many options, I'm not sure I'd know what to pick…

Nero: It's fine t' not know what you want. There's so many fancy n' interestin' things to pick from, after all. The time you spend decidin' what you want is another part of your dinin' experience.

Riquet: …Really?

Nero: They'll have your favorite bread pudding too, I bet.

Riquet: Will you be the one making it?

Nero: Nah, not me.

Riquet: …Oh, I see.

Nero: They've got chefs way better at what they do than me here, y'know.

Riquet: But I like your cooking.

Nero: Haha, I'm honored. If you see anythin' you like at the party, lemme know. I can make it for you back at the manor, too.

Bradley: Hell yeah. The more the Central tiny asks you to make, the more we've got on the menu.

Riquet: Yes!

Mithra: I know what a buffet is. It's that thing where if you don't eat every single dish in front of you, you'll be killed…

Mitile: They do not kill you at a buffet! It's perfectly fine to only serve yourself what you want.

Mithra: How much of what I want? Is it fine if I eat everything all on my own?

Mitile: I don't…think that's against the rules, but still, it's not polite to keep it all to yourself. You're supposed to share it with everyone.

Mithra: Well, we'll see how I feel about it. Where's this "buffet" being displayed?

Mitile: The buffet isn't one of the exhibits…

Owen: Literally whatever. I have exactly zero interest in that pathetic of a reward. Can I leave now?

Rustica: Why not wait to decide if you have no interest in it after you look around a bit first? A reward that pleases you more than a party or a lavish feast might just fall into your hands.

Chloe: Right, right! It'd be a waste if you let something like that just get away from you.

Owen: There's no way there's going to be anything I like in a place like this.

Chloe: Then where would it be?

Owen: …Somewhere?

Rustica: If it exists somewhere in the world, then it's entirely possible that this is that "somewhere". You might find it today, or perhaps tomorrow. Or in a hundred years or so.

Owen: That sounds awful. Can I sew that noisy mouth of yours closed?

Rustica: I think I'd rather have my ears sewn shut, actually. Having my ears blocked off means I'd be able to hear the sounds that come from within me, yes? I'd be very excited to hear what my heart has to say to me. So please, feel free. Sew me up.

Owen: …You're really incomprehensible.

Chloe: Hey, it looks like everyone else already left! Look, Cain is waving at us.

Cain: Heeeey! Don't get lost in the displays!

Owen: Excuse me? I'm not lost.

Rustica: But would you like to be?

Owen: You can't get lost on purpose.

Chloe: Rustica's great at getting lost.

Rustica: Fufu. I sure am. But perhaps… It's because I want to be lost. Thank you so much, Chloe.

Chloe: Huh, did I do something for you?

Rustica: But of course… It's because I have someone who will look for me that I can become lost in the first place.

✦✧☾✧✦

Arthur: This statue…

Cain: Oh, Arthur. Something up?

Arthur: Look at this.

Cain: This statue's pretty freaky. It's got so many tails coming out of it. What's this thing's name… "Oz"?

Oz: …Is something wrong, you two?

Arthur: Lord Oz! N-no, it's nothing…

Oz: Did you see this sculpture?

Arthur: Ack!

Cain: I thought it was a sculpture of some sort of wicked beast, but apparently it's a representation of the "historical" Oz. They'll say basically anything about you, huh?

Oz: I have no interest in the form others claim I have. Let them create whatever they wish.

Arthur: Still… It's downright unacceptable that your name is so closely associated with monsters that are barely even human, and that exhibitions of such creatures continue to be put on display. I will speak with the host and have him do away with this statue in the name of truth…

Cain: Hmm? Hey, this statue's title has a number next to it. This is Oz number 9.

Arthur: What?

Cain: Let's see, this one's #1… 2… 3… Looks like this whole section is nothing but sculptures of Oz.

Oz: All of them, you say… There are roughly twenty of them in total.

Arthur: These must have been created after truly extensive research into the legends surrounding you, Lord Oz. Such hard work and skill should be celebrated, I agree, but…

Oz: The tail and shape of the skull on this one are reminiscent of the Leviathan.

Cain: No matter what each one looks like, they all have a sense of dignity and majesty to them. Seeing this many Ozes lined up is still a pretty impressive thing to witness. Hey, Oz. Can you stand over there for a sec?

Oz: …Like this?

Cain: Yeah, that's perfect. At the center of this forest of facsimiles of the one and only Lord Oz stands the real deal… It's like you've become part of the artistry on display here.

Arthur: … Even so. These grotesqueries don't resemble Lord Oz in the slightest. The real one is the coolest by far.

Cain: Haha, you got that right. The best one is best for a reason!

Oz: …

Arthur: I know… Lord Oz, could you stand over here next?

Oz: Alright.

Arthur: What do you think, Cain? Now it looks like Lord Oz has vanquished a terrible beast…

Cain: Hey, you're right. There's a real air of power now! Like he's the absolute pinnacle of Ozes.

Arthur: The other ones aren't Lord Oz.

Cain: No, see, I mean the vibes we've got going on here. Hm… I don't want to abandon this other position, though. Hey Oz, this time can you go over there?

Oz: …

✦✧☾✧✦

Faust: This is an impressive collection of rare gems from all five countries… It's not like I'm a geology expert, but this is still a sight worth seeing. They're all high-quality stones, too. I think they said the host is an art dealer? He's got quite the eye.

Lennox: The security is very thorough as well. As Lords Snow and White said, our host must be quite powerful on the political stage.

Nero: Yeah, these rocks are all on a completely different level from the ones y'might see in a town marketplace or in stands on the street. They're all valuable enough to deserve bein' on display in an event like this.

Faust: Leno, look at this. It says this ore was mined in Southern Country. It's beautiful.

Lennox: Most of the South is still unexplored. There's a lot of talk about mineral veins in areas that don't see a lot of people.

Bradley: Oho, so you're sayin' there's a whole treasure trove no one's managed to get their grubby hands on yet? Sounds like pioneerin' could make you a ton of cash.

Nero: Brad… I didn't realize you were lookin' at this too. I thought you'd left already.

Bradley: If I up and left the hags would make my life hell. Even if I'm jus' goin' through the motions of helpin' out, I'm still goin' through em. Way more important is that these gems are lookin' pretty valuable. And you're sayin' they're just rollin' around in the South?

Next Chapter

[danydragons21]

TSTS Chapter 34: The Hourglass

Read it on ao3 here.

Chapter 34: The Hourglass

Elain scented her sister before she saw her.

The eldest Archeron was in the library at the Mortal Manor, a book balanced between her palms, blue-gray eyes narrowed intently as they quickly and smartly scanned the page. She was so enraptured she didn’t even notice Elain, who was on her way back from Vassa’s quarters - she had just tried to intercept the queen at the start of nightfall yet again, unsuccessfully, of course - when she’d caught a whiff of Nesta’s signature scent: rich vanilla and silvery smoke and burning embers. 

She had to call her sister’s name to get her attention.

“Nesta,” she said. 

“Elain!” she replied, surprised. She snapped the book shut.

“What are you doing here?” If Elain was blunt, she didn’t much care. What was it with her family showing up unannounced, time and time again? 

“There’s an impromptu meeting this evening to discuss the ball. We need to go over the plan and discuss a few…loose ends.”

Elain regarded her sister suspiciously. “Is it anything I should be worried about -?”

“Oh no, no,” Nesta reassured. “Just logistical things, mostly.” 

“Oh.” Elain nodded. “Okay.”

They were both quiet for a long moment.

“So how have you -”

“I’ve been meaning to stop by -”

They spoke over each other, stumbling over their words, before resorting back to an uncomfortable silence. 

Then Nesta sighed, heavily.

“It used to be so easy between us,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Of course,” Elain replied warily. Of course she remembered. Nesta was her closest companion, the other half to her whole, for so many years. Even before their mother died, but especially after. Poor, sweet Feyre, always shunted to the side…but Elain and Nesta were inseparable. For a long time, Elain believed it was because her sister loved her more than anything else in the world. Now, she sees it for what it was: a love of control. 

Nesta's eyes were sad. “The meeting is in an hour. I was hoping you’d like to spend some time together before…” the eldest Archeron trailed off. 

What was she supposed to say? No, I’d rather not spend time with you, because every time I look at you I feel a simmering, boiling rage that I simply don’t know what to do with ? That would do no one a drop of good. 

So instead, Elain nodded tightly and gave as genuine a smile as she could muster. “How does a walk around the Manor sound?” she suggested, and ignoring the stab of guilt she felt when Nesta’s worried expression brightened at her acquiescence.

***

After a slightly awkward albeit rather relaxing walk around the Manor, in which Elain intentionally avoided visiting the conservatory (Cassian might have been fooled by the fast growth of the flora but Nesta most certainly would not, and Elain was in no mood to answer difficult questions), the two sisters entered the doors to the grand atrium.

They were the last ones to arrive. Everyone else was already seated around the long table in the center of the room: Feyre, smiling brightly but tiredly; Jurian, his face tan and weatherbeaten, as if he'd been out in the field more often than not; Lucien, who was avoiding Elain’s eyes; Cassian, who was avoiding Nesta’s eyes; and Vassa, who was avoiding everyone’s gaze all together. 

Elain couldn’t blame them. She was feeling slightly uncomfortable herself; it was the first time she’d seen Lucien since that night in the gardens, and it was the first time she’d seen Vassa since returning from her travels.

Not to mention it was the first time Cassian and Nesta had seen each other since The Incident . She tried to send a subtle, warning look to Cassian, but he wasn’t looking at her; instead, he was staring fixedly at the floor, as if even glancing at Nesta would make the secret come spilling out. 

Whatever. He could handle things however he wanted as long as he stayed quiet. If he kept his mouth shut, there was no way Nesta could find out, right? 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her elder sister give her mate a curious, suspicious glance. Then she thought about how Nesta could always tell when she and Feyre were lying as kids, and her stomach started to hurt.

In an attempt to distract herself, Elain looked around the room. She'd only been in the grand atrium once before, at the very beginning of her stay at the Manor. Vassa had taken her. The queen said it was a hallowed sort of space used traditionally, reverently and sparingly for only the most prestigious of occasions - but it was also rather plain. 

That is, except for the one piece of decor in the room: the gigantic hourglass embedded into one of the walls. It was filled with silvery sand that glimmered as it trickled down and protruded so naturally, so effortlessly, from the wall that it looked like it had grown there, like some sort of plant. Like some sort of rot.

Every time the sand in the top bulb emptied entirely, the hourglass - and the pieces of stone wall it touched - moved until the hourglass was flipped upside down, and the whole process started again. It was both impactful and beautiful.

“My father used to joke about why the first royals might have put the hourglass into the Grand Atrium,” Vassa had told her. “He said that it was obviously to keep track of time during long and tedious meetings, because if our ancestors were anything like me and my mother, then impatience was as in grain ed in them as the grains in the hourglass.”

Elain had smiled then, but she wasn’t smiling now. The hourglass did not seem beautiful anymore. It seemed more like a taunt. 

The queasy feeling in her stomach intensified, but before she allowed herself to mull over it, she turned her attention back to the table. Everyone seemed to be watching Vassa, who was scanning the contents of several handwritten papers. Elain couldn’t help but notice the dark purple circles rimming the queen’s eyes.

“Notes on Koschei,” Feyre said in an undertone, noting Elain’s curious glance at the documents. “Amren, Rhys and I have been visiting different libraries throughout Prythian and finding every book on him we can. We haven’t found much information that is helpful, to be honest. It almost makes me wish we knew where Bryaxis was so we could ask it for details; I’m sure it knows plenty about Koschei, given that they’ve both existed for eons.” 

Elain considered reminding her sister that they had enough to worry about without adding Bryaxis into the equation, but she just nodded instead. 

“This is nothing I didn’t already know,” Vassa said, throwing the papers back at Feyre. “But that’s alright. I wasn’t expecting much anyway.” 

Startled, her sister blinked. Elain felt similarly taken aback. She’d never heard Vassa sound so…uncaring. 

“Well?” the queen asked, raising an eyebrow. Impatience laced her words. “Who wants to begin?” 

“I can,” Nesta said. Then she cleared her throat. 

“There are three levels to this plan,” she said, voice louder and deeper than before. The voice of the Captain of the Valkyries, dangerous and cool. But sometimes, when her sister spoke in such an authoritative voice, she was reminded of when they were little and Nesta would boss her and Feyre around the house like the little mother she was. Elain had to fight back a grin. Then she remembered that she was still angry at her older sister, and the grin faded away. 

“The first level is the Bait,” Nesta said. With the world’s smallest, tensest grimace, she nodded toward Elain. “AKA, Elain.”

Everyone’s eyes turned toward her, and she did her very best to remain cool and collected, staring blankly into her sister’s blue-grey eyes. 

Nesta tore her gaze away, jaw flexing, before continuing. “As we are all aware, Koschei believes Elain knows where the missing part of his soul is being kept. During the ball, we are going to use this to our advantage and leverage Elain to lure Koschei into a trap. 

“Because of this, I’m sure you’ll all agree that a majority of our magical protection should go toward surrounding Elain,” Nesta said.

“Elain is the bait, yes, but what about Vassa? Have we forgotten the curse he put on her? Have we forgotten the promise he made to return her to that hellhole of a lake? Vassa must remain just as protected. What if he’s tricking us into who his true target is?” Jurian said, eyes gleaming fiercely. 

“That’s a good point,” Elain murmured thoughtfully.

“I don’t think so,” Vassa said. “As soon as the power of the curse returns in full force, he will not have to trap me to get me to return to his lake. I will immediately be back under his enchantment. There will be no capturing or chasing or tracking that he will have to do. I will simply be gone.”

Lucien’s knuckles turned white. “No,” he said darkly. 

“It is not something you can have an opinion on,” Vassa said sharply, refusing to meet his eyes. Refusing to meet any of their eyes. “It is simply the truth. So fine, put some level of protection on me, but the majority should be on Elain. He may not be able to control her mind, but he will try to get to her in other, more dangerous ways. I am an inevitable casualty at this point. Elain is not.” 

“Don’t say that,” Elain said quietly, but the edge in her voice was all sharp steel.

Vassa remained quiet, as did the others, until finally Nesta resumed the plan.

“We will have a welcome ceremony the evening before the actual ball, with appetizers and cocktails and the like. We have more than enough rooms in the mortal manor to provide lodging for the guests. It’s the perfect way to get a feel for what we’re up against before the ball the next evening.

“When the ball begins, Vassa will make a welcome announcement. She will thank everyone for being there, and then specifically thank Elain for helping her with an unknown project. She’ll make sure to mention how dangerous the task is and how Elain is doing it out of the goodwill of her heart, along with her desire to keep all the courts safe from outside forces that might try and hurt them.”

“In short, she will place even more of a target on Elain’s back,” Jurian said flatly, but she knew him well enough by now to clock the worry lacing his tone. She felt a sudden rush of affection for the mortal.

“Sounds good to me,” Elain said, keeping her tone light. She didn’t want anyone to worry about her. “Keep going.” 

Nesta continued on, Feyre and Cassian interjecting every now and then with more details. Lucien surprised them all with his cunning, thoughtful questions that poked holes in the plan -  “ What happens if he hasn’t shown up by midnight? Do we have a backup plan if the magic doesn’t hold during the Presentation of the Courts? What if the other courts are gone by the time we reach Level 3? ” - forcing them to reevaluate and redesign specific components. But eventually, they all came to an agreed-upon scheme.

Well, almost.

“What exactly is our game plan during cocktail hour?” Lucien asked, “Because ‘ roam around and observe ’ doesn’t exactly sound strategic.”

Feyre let out a giggle, clearly forgetting they were in a serious and important meeting. Then she cleared her throat.

“You’re right. Let’s expand on that. How about..after Vassa gives her speech, we will split into groups and observe our guests,” Feyre suggested. “We can decide on the exact groupings later, but it would make sense, and look less suspicious, if those that are couples stay together. Rhys and I, Nes and Cas…”she paused.

Vassa interjected, “Jurian and I will remain together. The mortals that will be there know both of us well, and it would make sense to present us as a united force.”

Feyre nodded her approval, though Elain noticed Lucien’s jaw tighten. 

“We have invited Gwyn and Emerie to come, as well. Having the three Valkyrie leaders will add an additional level of prestige as well as protection. Gwyn and Emerie can stick together,” Nesta added.

“Smart,” Jurian said.

“Since Amren will remain behind to protect the Night Court, that just leaves Elain, Lucien, Mor and Azriel…” Feyre trailed off awkwardly. 

Elain cleared her throat and braced herself. She knew what she had to do, for the sake of the plan. “I’ve thought a lot about what you all suggested. About…about pretending that Lucien and I,” she gestured toward the red-haired male, who blinked in surprise, “have accepted the mating bond.” 

A thick quiet wrapped itself around the group. Feyre stared at Elain with wide eyes while Nesta, quite uncharacteristically, gasped softly in surprise. Jurian and Vassa exchanged a startled glance. It dawned on her that she’d never so explicitly mentioned the bond in front of the two mortals. Cassian looked utterly bewildered and, unless she was imagining it, slightly displeased.

The only other person in the room who didn’t seem taken aback was Lucien. He simply regarded Elain with a wary expression on his face. 

It was the longest they’d looked at each other since that night beneath the fae lights.

“And?” Feyre asked.

Elain cleared her throat. “And I think you’re right. There will be many potential enemies there. But if Lucien and I act like a pair, those enemies will be less likely to instigate anything. So I’m okay with…with making it seem like we are together. For the evening. But only if it’s okay with you,” she added awkwardly, finally meeting Lucien's gaze. His one good eye burned into her, and the memory of their almost-kiss flashed across her mind without warning. She was sure he was thinking about it, too.

“Of course it’s okay with me. It is what is safest for you, and that is all that matters,” he said finally.

She nodded once and looked down at the floor. 

“So that just leaves Azriel and Mor,” Feyre said, returning to the matter at hand. 

Despite the fact that Elain knew her decision was the right one, not only for her safety, but for the safety of others and for the good of the plan as a whole, her heart dropped at the thought of Azriel and Mor sashaying through the ballroom, the beautiful blonde hooked on Azriel’s arm. She could already see the way his hazel eyes would glow as he stared at the female he’d loved for centuries, who for the night was all his, all his . It was enough to make her feel slightly nauseous.

As was the thought of how Azriel would react when he found out she and Lucien were going to pretend to be mates for the evening. 

But gods, he had made it clear as day that they were not a couple. Sure, he’d admitted to caring about her, to liking her, but that was it. If the Cassian debacle had proved anything, it was that he wanted to keep their affection a dirty little secret. Perhaps she would simply have to accept their relationship (or lack thereof) for what it was and what it was not. Accept it was all it would ever be.

Just as Azriel would have to accept that for two nights, she would pretend to the world that her heart belonged to another. 

Even if it was just another bitter lie.

***

Elain had hoped to speak to Vassa after the planning meeting and confront her at last, but the Queen slipped out before she could reach her. Then Nesta and Feyre had cornered her to tell her just how proud they were of her for agreeing to be fake-mates with Lucien for an evening. As if it was a favor she was doing them. As she was a little girl in pigtails who needed to be praised and coddled for every "correct" decision she made. 

She didn't do it to make her sisters or anyone else happy. She did it because, deep down, she knew they were right. Not about everything, of course; she still wanted to give Rhys a swift kick up his 500-year-old ass in retaliation for the last time he'd imposed his sense of right and wrong on her. But about this one thing - about this, they were right. It was safer for everyone, not just her, to pretend that they had accepted the mating bond. Safer, and better for the plan, and the right thing to do. 

But every time she though of Mor and Azriel together, smiling and dancing, she wanted to throw something. Or scream. Or both.

Suffice it to say, Elain was not a pleased female by the time she left the grand atrium.

Hence the broad scowl that graced her face as she stomped angrily through the corridors. What the bloody hells was she supposed to do with the rest of her evening now? She was too worked up to sleep. Too emotionally-unsteady to do something productive. Too angry to hang out with anyone else in this stupid manor, especially -

“I hope that face isn’t because of me.”

Elain whipped around. “Don’t flatter yourself," she told Lucien with a small smile. "You may make me mad, but only my sisters can make me this mad.” She considers for a second. “And Vassa,” she added, then cringed. Lucien and Vassa were very close, after all. “Sorry.”

Unexpectedly, Lucien grinned. “I like it when you’re honest with me,” he says. 

She grinned a bit back, but she couldn’t hide her wariness. This was the first time they had been around each other since the almost-kiss in the gardens, let alone standing in close proximity to each other in a vacant hallway.

Without warrant, her heartbeat sped up.

Lucien seemed to notice the change in her mood too, for the sly grin dropped from his face. “I’m about to leave again,” he told her. “I’m going to…going to the Autumn Court.”

“What?” Elain breathed, her eyes wide. “No, you can’t,” she said, her voice rising in panic.

“Beron is threatening to not come to the Symposium or the Ball if I don’t pay him a visit,” he said grimly. “And we need him here that night. He’s an essential part of the plan.” 

“What does he want with you?” she nearly whispered.

Lucien’s shrug was too tense to be casual. “Who the hells knows. Maybe he just misses my pretty face.”

“You don’t think he knows about…you know,” she hedged.

Lucien’s face remained unreadable.“I guess we’ll find out,” he said finally.

Well, that wasn’t reassuring at all. She frowned at him, and he visibly softened. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said. Then a corner of his lip twitched up. “Though it’s sweet of you to worry,” he teased. 

Elain smiled without thinking about it. 

Her smile seemed to trigger something in him. He sobered up immediately, and before she could even question what was wrong, grabbed her face with both his hands. 

“Before I go,” he said, his mouth so close to hers she could feel his hot breath on her lips, “I have to kiss you first.”

She froze, utterly shocked. 

“Just once,” he murmured, those arresting, uneven eyes staring straight into her own. “Just to see.” 

And she was so shocked, so taken aback by the declaration, that she didn’t stop him when he leaned forward and kissed her. 

***

While Elain was frozen, the Shadowsinger was in the middle of an interrogation.

Azriel studied the male in front of him, frowning slightly. This was taking longer than he expected. Longer than he had wanted it to take; otherwise, he might have made it to the Ball Planning meeting on time. Unfortunately, the Autumn Court soldier, who had been captured by one of his loyal spies, had yet to break. He’d already lost three fingers, for Cauldron’s sake, yet he still wouldn’t talk. 

But Az wasn’t worried. He would talk. They always talked in the end.

It had been several months since he last traveled to the Court of Nightmares. He might not admit it to anyone else, but he could admit it to himself - it was somewhat of a relief to be back. There was no better time for him to… let loose, per say. If only because his blood was close to boiling over already, what with every other burden he bore on his back. 

The anxiety. The guilt. The secrets . How come he’d never fully realized before how heavy secrets were? They were weighing him down like sand. 

But here, in the dark and cool caverns beneath the Court of Nightmares, where not even the strongest Fae hearing could detect a scream - here, he felt the glorious relief of lifted pressure; of steady, pulsing silence. Here, he could wear the worst parts of himself like a shining suit of armor. Here, he could be the Azriel everyone knew and feared. 

Smoothly, he slipped Truth-Teller out of its sheath and twirled it between his fingers with casual, lethal precision. 

“Next question,” he said. “Where did you stay while in Pentalos?”

The male said nothing. The only sounds were his ragged panting and the blood dripping slowly from the little stumps on his hand.

“I’ll wait,” Azriel said. “I’ve been told I’m very patient.” A pause. “But I’m also incredibly impulsive, and I get mad easily. So who knows what will happen.” He cocked his head to the side. “I suppose we'll find out soon enough.”

Still, the male said nothing. Instead, he summoned all his strength and spit in Azriel's direction.

The dagger was in the Spymaster's palm, and the next second it was lodged in the man’s kneecap, deep and through the bone. The scream the soldier let out was so blood-curdling that even his shadows winced, tightening themselves against him like a second skin.

But Azriel did not react a bit. No, he simply watched as the male screamed in agony, his own expression blank and empty. There was nothing he hated more than insolence.

He let the soldier cry and sob until there were simply no tears left to cry. Slowly, Azriel approached the man and retrieved his favorite dagger before retreating once more. And only then, only then did the Spymaster speak.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” he said quietly. “Where did you stay while in Pentalos?”

The soldier let out a dry, hopeless sob, and Azriel knew he had won. 

“In the caves,” the male said, his voice raw and rasping. “In the underground caves.”

Azriel froze. “There are no underground caves on Pentalos.”

“There are,” the soldier said, exhausted. He was getting close to death; Azriel could tell. “There are.” 

Well. That was news to Az. And everyone else who scoured the island. This prisoner was turning out to be useful after all.

“One more question. Almost done,” he said, but there was no compassion lacing his voice. Just an underlying, dark promise. He tried to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart. “What does Koschei want with Elain Archeron?”

A grating, humorless laugh worked its way out of the soldier’s throat, and Azriel had to fight the urge to kill him right then. “What does he want with her?” he repeated, but his tone wasn’t mocking; just resigned. Just tired. “He wants her ruined .” 

“ No ,” Azriel growled, as if the intensity of his objection could ensure Elain’s infinite safety. “He won’t ever get what he wants. Ever. But why does he want her?”

The soldier shook his head, something close to regret in his expression. “She can’t be saved,” he rasped. “Koschei wants her too much. He needs her too much.”

Pure, unadulterated panic shot through his chest, followed closely by white-hot, furious denial.

His fingers clenched around Truth-Teller.                   

“Wrong answer,” he said. There was a flash of silver, a shocked, gurgling gasp, and the Autumn Court soldier spoke no more. 

But the panic threatened to drown the Shadowsinger all the same.

***

It was four in the morning, and Elain had yet to sleep a wink.

Her mind simply wouldn’t shut up. She couldn’t stop thinking about - well, about everything , about so many things she couldn’t keep track. Things that happened today and things that happened yesterday; things that happened decades ago and things she wished she could do again; things that never happened and things that never will. All of it flashed through her mind at the speed of light: 

The cabin she used to live in, when she and her sisters slept in one bed together, curled around each other like cats;

Nesta in the library, smelling like vanilla and smoke and wariness;

The garden in the Night Court, thriving and beautiful without her tending to it;

Vassa, loving her like a sister and then avoiding her like the plague;

The cauldon, big and black and formidable, mocking her with its mightiness;

All the things she wished she would have said to her father - and to her mother;

The Flame Keeper tapping on her chest three times as she mouthed 'speak to the Queen;'

Lucien in the hallway, a deafening quiet engulfing them as his lips pressed against hers;

The looming presence of Koschei hanging over her like a storm cloud;

Azriel on his knees and between her legs, smiling at her and kissing her thigh with heart-wrenching tenderness, a thousand unspoken words gleaming in his piercing hazel eyes -  

She sat straight up in bed, her chest heaving. For a long moment, she was frozen, just staring intently at the full moon.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, then threw the covers off and stood to her full height. 

Less than a minute later - she forgot how convenient Fae speed was sometimes - she was outside Vassa’s quarters, knocking on the heavy oak door with loud and obnoxious persistence.

A servant answered the door. “Lady Elain, what is it?” the young girl asked. “Do you know the hour?”

“I need to speak with Vassa,” she said promptly. “And don’t bother telling me she isn’t awake. And I apologize in advance for my bluntness, but don’t bother trying to stop me from going in.”

The servant swallowed, glancing behind her nervously. “Lady Elain, I’m very sorry, but the Queen has given orders -”

“I don’t care what orders she’s given you,” Elain said patiently.

The servant looked downright scared now. “I’m very sorry, my Lady, but -” 

Elain sighed, then strode past the servant faster than the human could blink. 

She found Vassa in the last place she expected - outside, on a small balcony just off the side of her bedroom. With all the time she’d spent outdoors since the curse returned, Elain assumed the queen would much prefer the indoor comforts of her home. But perhaps even the familiar felt strange to Vassa now. 

Unnoticed, Elain observed her friend for a minute. The queen looked too tired. And too skinny. And too sad, too hopeless , her eyes blank and open as she surveyed the starlit night, hands gripping the railing like it was a lifeline. 

“Vassa,” she said softly, trying not to scare her.

To her credit, Vassa didn’t even flinch. And she did not turn around as she said, “Elain.” It almost sounded like a sigh. Like she’d been expecting and waiting for and dreading this moment, and here it was. 

But Elain didn’t let that mess with her. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she said steadily. 

Vassa still didn’t bother turning around. “Yes.” 

Slowly, like approaching a wild animal, Elain joined Vassa at the balcony. She followed her friend’s lead and stared at the expansive landscape before them. 

“Did you have a good relationship with your mother?” Elain asked out of nowhere. 

Vassa visibly started. “What in the world made you ask that?”

Elain shrugged. “I’m not quite sure, to be honest.”

“Yes,” the queen finally answered. “Yes, I did. My mother was a wonderful person. Both my parents were.” A clear note of wistful grief rang in her voice. 

Elain smiled, just a little bit sadly. “That’s good,” she said. “I’m sure they were lovely, seeing as they managed to raise a woman like you.”

“What was your mother like?” Vassa asked after a beat, her voice noticeably softer. 

“Oh, she was an absolute delight.” Elain let out a laugh that didn’t sound quite right. “She was intelligent, beautiful, and well-connected. She was incredibly good at reading people. She was trendy, and her taste was impeccable, and she loved finery; she always made sure we were dressed in the latest fashions.

“And she was also cold, callous, and cruel.” Elain shook her head slightly. “It’s hard for me to pick which one of us she was most awful to. We all got it worse in some ways, I suppose. Nesta was the heir apparent, treated more like a soldier than a child, expected to not only obey but to carry out my mother’s every order. Feyre was the forgotten child.

“And I was a pretty little puppet who was too silly and naive to try and cut off the strings that held me in place.”

Elain’s hands flexed unintentionally on the railing. She forced them to relax.

“I don’t think of my mother often,” she continued. “And I talk of her even less. My sisters are the same way. Sometimes it feels like she never existed, like I just made her up in my mind, but even I’m not enough of a masochist to imagine someone so uncaring. So unkind.

“But even though we never talk about her or miss her or hold any fond feelings toward her at all, and even though she died when we were quite little…I think she’s left her stain on us all. And I wonder, sometimes, if it can ever be washed out.”

Vassa was quiet for a very long time. But Elain was used to waiting. Used to being patient. It was yet another thing that separated her from her sisters: where Feyre and Nesta were impulsive, Elain was content to wait in the shadows for the proper time to strike.

And wait she did. 

Vassa finally broke the silence. 

“Why did you come here tonight, Elain?” she asked.

It was then that Elain turned to face the queen fully.

“There’s something I need to do. And you’re coming with me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s quite important, actually. And guess what?” Elain raised a brow.

“What?” the queen asked dryly. 

“You're going to do it, too.”

"I am?"

"Yes. You need to do it, actually."

“Do I really?”

Elain nodded, ignoring the lack of enthusiasm in Vassa’s tone. 

“And what, may I ask, do we both need to do that is so important you barged into my quarters in the dead of night?”

Elain cocked her head at her and grinned slightly. Something in her expression finally tipped Vassa off. 

“Oh, I don’t like that look,” the queen said, and though she was shaking her head, the first traces of excitement finally seeped through her voice. “What are you planning?”

Elain just grinned wider. “Vass,” she said, “Do you fancy a swim?”

***

The two females hurried through the woods. Leaves crackled beneath their feet; a heavy breeze whooshed over their bodies, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake; moonlight streamed through the gaps in the lush forest canopy, lighting their way.

“We are nearly there,” Vassa said, and though she spoke quietly, the sound still had Elain jolting slightly. Being this deep in the woods, no one around but the creatures who lived here, no sound but for the whispering wind and the rustling of foliage, had words themselves feeling foreign. Alien. 

Rounding a corner, they came to a huge clearing in the forest. The trees here arched toward each other, creating a high, curved canopy. In the center of the clearing was a large, glassy pond, or perhaps a small, circular lake, depending on who you asked. The surface was still as a statue, and the way it reflected the night sky made the water look like it was composed entirely of silvery starlight. 

“Wow,” Elain whispered. Vassa nodded in agreement. Together, they approached the edge of the glossy lake.

“When was the last time you were here?” Elain asked.

“Ages ago,” she said. “I don’t even remember. I fly over it sometimes, when I’m…in my other form. But I’ve not been this close since before the curse. Since before I became Queen, perhaps.” She shook her head as if the movement would shake away the memories. 

“Are you ready?” Elain asked.

“No,” Vassa said. “But let’s do it anyway.”

They stripped to their undergarments. Elain neatly folded her clothes and placed them on a large, flat rock; Vassa threw hers in a pile on the ground. Elain dipped a toe in and shivered. 

“It’s cold.”

“It’s November,” Vassa reminded her.

“Well. It’s not going to get any warmer with us standing here,” she replied shrewdly. “Come on. Let’s jump.”

A thick swallow worked its way down Vassa’s throat. Her hands were trembling, and Elain did not think it was because of the cold.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said softly. 

“Yes. I do,” her friend replied. She took a deep, rattling breath and then held out her hand to Elain. 

In that moment, Elain forgot any anger she had with the queen. Without hesitation, she grabbed Vassa’s hand and laced their fingers together. 

“On three?”

The red-haired woman nodded tightly. 

“One,” she began.

“Two,” counted Vassa, her voice a nervous croak that nearly vanished with the wind. Elain couldn't deny it, either: she was nervous as well. She still hadn't dunked her head entirely underwater since the Cauldron...but she had to. She had to get Vassa to talk to her. And this was the only thing she could think of that might work.

“Three,” they said together, and then they were jumping. The second they hit the water, their grasp broke apart. It was cold, so cold, but so lovely too, invigorating and refreshing and a delicious shock to her very soul. 

Kicking her way up, Elain gasped as she broke above the surface, relishing the way the cool night air bit at her damp skin. A few feet away, Vassa emerged from the depths, crimson locks plastered to her face, blue eyes bright and gleaming in the light of the moon. 

“It’s fucking cold,” the queen gasped. 

“Is it?” Elain asked. “Feels amazing to me.” 

In unison, they started laughing uncontrollably. If asked, Elain could not have said what was funny, but maybe that was the point; maybe it was simply the nature of the situation, the thrill of acting on an impulse, that had mirth uncontrollably bubbling up inside of her. Or maybe it was the way she felt renewed; the way she felt clean , like all the dirty parts of her had been eliminated by the biting cool of the water; washed away like the tide, utter and absolute. Like all the rot inside of her had been cut out and replaced with new, thriving life. 

After several minutes, their laughter guttered out, throats left raw from the act. They stared at each other, treading water, soft smiles on their faces.

“Thank you,” Vassa said. The thin film of moisture in her eyes did not seem like it was from the pool they swam in, but Elain couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know if I ever would have come back here if it wasn’t for you.”

“You would have,” Elain said confidently. She was sure of that. Her friend may have her faults, but Vassa was brave and bold and true, and she would not let any obstacle stand in her way for long. Not if she could help it. 

Suddenly, Vassa's expression shifted dramatically, going from bright and giddy to starkly sober.

The mood shifted immediately, the queen’s words a catalyst to the thundering of Elain's heart. Even the forest around them seemed to quiet, the wind stilling, no creatures stirring, all listening for what came next. 

“Elain,” Vassa said, low and clear. “I need to tell you something.”

Afraid a trembling voice might give away her nerves, Elain merely nodded in response.  

Vassa took a deep, rattling breath. “Before I go any further, I want you to know that - “

She never finished the sentence. One moment she was there, staring at Elain with serious and mournful eyes, and the next she was gone. She vanished beneath the surface as if she was never there at all. She was gone so quickly she did not even have time to scream.

But Elain had seen the petrified expression on the queen’s face before her friend was pulled beneath the surface. A horror so heavy it sank like stone.

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