#sometimes it’s a halo and sometimes his halo is flying away

[bunbitti]

Hello! Could I request a Sunday x halovian reader who has clipped wings? (Can be platonic or romantic)

Clipped.

:))

romantic-ish?

~800 words

tw: do clipped wings on a halovian count as mutilation? Also, Sunday being Sunday the control freak he is and pulling some strings behind your back

You were one of few Halovians that had more than just a halo. There were the Oak siblings, of course, who had both head wings and back wings, but not many others. 

Your wings were clipped. Not that a Halovian could fly (beyond the wings that would need to be massive to carry a person’s weight, the rest of their bodies were similar to a normal human’s, and therefore unfit for aerial movement), but every time you looked down at your wings, you felt a bit trapped. Regardless of whether it was done for ‘medical’ reasons or for anything else, it didn’t change the connotations. 

You weren’t meant to fly on your own, let alone succeed. Always working long hours doing the same thing, no change to your schedule, let alone improvement. Barely any time for yourself after chores, meals, and sleep. 

Your wings were always clipped whenever they molted. Again, again, again. You could never escape from it. You just wanted to give up at this point.

Your wings didn’t look right when in their resting position around your torso. Didn’t feel right, either. Feeling the flat, unnatural edge made you cringe. Even flapping them in the air felt viscerally wrong. You often held your hands near your waist as though to cover them up and pull the attention away from them, even if nobody was actually paying attention. 

That was when you met Sunday. Ever the charismatic Oak Family head, he was sometimes walking around to make sure things in the Land of the Dreams were working properly. 

He’d found you at your job in the Moment of Daybreak, weaving products that would be sold to the wealthiest of customers, all for the support of the Harmonious system that ran Penacony. He’d been passing by, making small-talk and greeting people to see how their jobs were going and if he should make any managerial changes to make their lives easier, but you looked down and noticed his raven-blue back wings neatly wrapped around his torso under his blazer. 

They were clipped. Instinctively, you wrapped your own back wings tighter around yourself, but it only drew his attention. 

His eyes followed your gaze to his own wings, then moved over to yours, which were far more harshly clipped than his own. At least at first glance, his looked relatively normal. Most outsiders didn’t know enough Halovians that had their wings out of their clothes to notice, and either way, his wings looked like a vest on top of his usual turtleneck. 

You missed the flicker of shock and pity in his eyes when he saw your clipped wings. 

In fact, he acted like nothing happened at all, and so you brushed it off. Maybe he hadn’t seen it. But you’d already gotten attached to the man countless levels in the Family hierarchy above you, making up wild stories in your head about how maybe he was also trapped in some way. 

However, you found yourself bumping into him gradually more often, almost so gradually that you hadn’t noticed. Not until you told some friends (were they friends? Or just acquaintances?) for the fifth time in a week that you met Sunday again, and they told you that nobody runs into the Oak Family head that often. 

Huh. 

Oh, well. Maybe he just likes you a bit. 

He invited you to private meals once in a while, under some excuse of wanting to reward members of the Family so they would be motivated to continue supporting the Harmony. Even he knew that a monotonous, exhausting life would eventually wear people out beyond what any motivation could provide. You didn’t need to know that you were the only Family member being ‘rewarded’. 

It was at those times that his wings were out instead of folded tightly around his waist. When he greeted you at the door and guided you inside, one wing would be lightly pressed against your back to usher you in, just as his hand rested on your upper back. 

His wings brushed against yours more times than you could count. Eventually, you were comfortable enough to let your own wings unfold, and returned the gesture. To touch wings, for Halovians, was something reserved only for the closest and dearest to a person. 

It was a while before you noticed you hadn’t been pressured to have your wings clipped, never realizing that it was because of Sunday’s influence. By the next molt, which tended to be very slow for Halovians, your wings were back to their full glory. 

The next time you shared a dinner with Sunday, you decided to be bold and put your wings behind his back to pull him close and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“—!”

— — — — — — — 

You awoke abruptly from a sweet dream that was supposed to last forever. 

There were supposed to be 7 rest days in a week.

The Dreampool is wet. 

You look down at your wings. 

Clipped.

[amoosarte]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐄, 𝐌.𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍

SUMMARY ! in which Max never cared about what happened to him on the track but when he sees them crash, his heart broke, he had ruined their dream.

FACECLAIM ! gender neutral, WARNINGS ! mention of suicidal thoughts, blood and traumatic things ahead !

Max never cared for his life, he wouldn't care less what happened to him on the track. The antidepressants that sat on his dresser just kept him in check, long enough for him to put a barrier.

He thought of other things, he will not deny, he's thought of ending it short but when his little sister did it before him, it made him snap.

He never liked hospitals, hated the gut wrenching feeling they gave. Max was almost a regular there because of his sister, she wasn't suicidal, he thought. She was just weak, not the healthiest. but it wasn't her fault.

His life was perfect, he will admit, his life was filled with things many people could wish for, but he himself was traumatized on the way as well.

Max was special, his sister described him. He was a gentle soul that had just been misunderstood most of his life, he's never been allowed to expression emotion off the track. She regretted making him scared, he didn't deserve that but she was just tired of it.

She was glad after that day, he started to take of himself, she didn't like it was because of her but it was something.

After the incident, Max expressed more towards his sister, called her before every race, just for her to pray for him, begging god to take care of him on the track.

Max gripped the steering wheel on his car, his eyes burning holes into the lights as they flashed. red, red, red, green. Then he took off from his first place spot.

Max never cared for his life, he wouldn't care less what happened to him on the track. But he did care for the other, he would try to drive ahead sometimes, try to get away from the crowd, not to cause accidents, but it was also apart of the job.

Las Vegas was difficult, a very risky race track. Max however was prepared for it, he always was. However when he was sparks fly during the 40th lap, his heart dropped.

You had hit a manhole, making him step on breaks not wanting crash into you but he did, causing you to hit another manhole, resulting in your car being flipped, then harshly shoved into the barricade, only to spin off the track.

Christian was on the other side of comms, telling Max that there was a red flag in the air. Max's blood ran cold, you got hurt and it was all his fault, he immediately put his car in the pit lane.

Max could only see what was happened in the television inside the garage, his engineers stood in shook, scared and speechless. Max was scared, he genuinely looked pale.

"It seems as Red Bull Driver Y/N has been in a fatal car crash near turn 14th, my god.." Max eyes widen, your car was beaten, turned over and they couldn't see you.

Three harsh turns, the dark navy blue car was roughly scrapped on, the front wing was pulled off, now the only thing protecting you was the halo. But you didn't move.

Max could see every driver watch in horror as they try to pull you out of the car, they could see blood spill out of your track suit. They pulled your numb body out as they held the wound, calling emergency over.

Your helmet was pulled off, only to see strokes of blood reek down. Your eyes were open but you couldn't feel anything, your were simply motionless.

Max could see Christian rush off to help assist, and take you to the hospital, then they moved on like it was nothing, they were back to racing in a matter of seconds.

He placed 3rd that race.

And I won't, see you again...

He never liked hospitals, hated the gut wrenching feeling they gave him. The first he saw was you plugged up to the life support machine, you having needles poking in your veins, then your dead eyes.

Max felt compelled to apologize, he wanted to apologize.

He could see your eyes follow him as he sat near you, placing a vase of flowers near a filled table of them already. He bit his lip and held back tears as you still smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I really am." Max words broke you, as you saw the boy cry for the first time. Your okay arm held his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's not your fault Max, it's just my bad luck."

You could see it in his eyes he still felt guilty,and it broke your heart. "Max, I don't want you to blame yourself, it was an accident." You squeezed his hand tightly once again, making him nod. After a few more minutes of you comforting him, he asked again.

"Will you come back, will you be okay?" You didn't have the slightest clue if you were, but the boy in front of you was dying to know, he was stressed and sorry, so the best thing to do was to lie.

"You know I always bounce back, don't worry dude." You jokes a bit making him feel reassured. You hated lying, but you knew damn well this was over for you.

You knew it was over the moment Christian came into your hospital room, giving you a sad look on his face, his face said it all, and you let your wall crumbles down, and let the water drip down.

It had been a week since your crash in Las vegas, now it was now the day before the second to last race of the season, and your announcement was released.

"Hello everyone, today I will be announcing what will be of me for the rest of the season. First things first, I will not be joining F1 again. Take this as my announcement of retiring."

"Some other things, This accident was no ones fault but mines, I will not blame my teammate and my friend for this accident. It was simply and accident."

"I want to thank everyone for being so kind to me these past 2 seasons, you were all wonderful and I'm glad I could experience it with you all. To my team who opened their arms towards me and welcomed me in, you were all wonderful to be around, these seasons of working together, I’m grateful to you all, to my teammate, it was a pleasure working with you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I were given another chance.”

“To my fans, thank you for supporting me through this journey. To be loved by many people is a blessing and you were all there to see me at my weakest and my strongest, I pray you all understand why I’m doing this.”

“I leave wishing all love and accomplishments and acceptance, I’m just another driver that will pass by, thank you for giving me a chance to live my dream, even if it was just for a while.”

With that the video cuts and there was no more of you.

To say the least, everyone was shocked, I mean they could sense that something was going to happen to you, but you retiring was something that no one could see coming.

Many drivers had called you, messaged you, expressing their feeling about this, and how they were going to miss you.

Max on the other hand didn't take the news okay, he was back into a rather depressing state, it little space he could never get out of, no matter how many antidepressants he took.

He wouldn't lie, he felt like the bad guy in this story, he had taken your dreams away. Yet again here you were not blaming him, he felt like it was his fault but it wasn't.

He had called you the day of the race, needing to tell you he was sorry one last time. Only to hear you forgive him and not to blame himself because in the end it was accident.

It only took a while but he could hear you cry on the other line, sobbing lightly, still reassuring him. You wouldn't lie anymore, you were hurt.

Racing had been your dream since you were little but now you were forced into retirement because your brain didn't work normally anymore, Because the lack of skill.

If you were a bit better you'd miss that manhole, and you would be finishing your second season. To finish your dream, but everything that's good comes with a price.

Max could only stand still on the podium, where he stood at P1. He raised his trophy, hoping you knew this was for you. Everything he would be doing was for you, because he wanted you to live your dreams through him.

You're not a person, You're my friend..

MENTIONS ! @landitolover, @moneygramhaas, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉, ⟢ more!

[moodymisty]

Everyone wants Lorgar carnally until he says grace before giving head. Or when he recites verses that describe the world’s beauty while he gently caresses your body. Or when you’re having sex and he starts whimpering prayers upon prayers about how wonderful you are, how much he loves you, how he wants you so badly, how he’s utterly yours (he’s not even doing it deliberately, it’s like singing your praises is second nature to him). Or after you’ve finished, when he lies down on your bed and looks at you with complete and total reverence. You can see that in this moment, to him, you are the only thing that’s real. The lamp on his desk is illuminating you like a halo, or maybe it’s not even the lamp at all, maybe it’s just you. Lorgar wouldn’t even question it if that was the case, because who is he to question what true holiness is?

In his gaze there’s more than just a lovers adoration. To him you’re not a mere mortal. He looks at you as if you’re the sun itself, like you could fly up to the very heavens and rip the stars from their foundations. His trust placed in you so wholeheartedly that if you decided to smite him for the simple crime of existing, he would let you, he would even thank you for it.

But you love him far too much to even think those thoughts. You cup the side of his face and feel as he leans into your touch. You don’t know it, but if in this very moment you told him to renounce his faith, renounce his loyalty to the emperor, and worship you and only you. He would, without a doubt, say yes.

… Well. I think I might’ve gotten a little too carried away here lmao

Oh hey thanks for the fucking feast, excuse me while I go apeshit with my religious undertones/trauma kink

also @thevoidscreams thanks for the inspo as well fam

Warnings: NSFW, Religious undertones, Body worship

The desert becomes so cold at night, the sand sometimes freezes with little sparkles of dew, reminding you of the snow of your distant home planet.

But despite the frigid air of a Colchis drowned in dark you couldn't feel hotter, skin aglow with the sheen of sweat- lips parted in a pant.

"Lorgar, Lorgar..."

Sometimes his name leaves your mouth as a whisper, sometimes a yell, but it seems as if he can hear neither. It's like he's in a trance, head between your legs for what's felt like and more than likely has been hours.

Your thighs are covered in lovebites, little scratches, redness where he's gripped too tight in his enthusiasm and you've had to pry at his hands and plead for him to stay gentle with you, remind him that you're fragile, as his eyes look at you with reverence.

Sometimes the way he looks at you is almost too much; Too much like worship, the way he lowers himself to press his head between your thighs and whisper so many sweet nothings. So much of it is incomprehensible, speaking in tongues as he presses you into the massive ocean of a bed meant for someone far larger.

You’ve never felt as bared as you have in these moments, like he’s taking every bit of you and some from somewhere beyond.

“By the gods, you look so beautiful… No art, writing or tapestry could ever hold a candle to you like this…”

He could do this for hours, sometimes he has, and while you know he has to in order to prepare you for what’s to come, he takes more than plenty of pleasure in it.

His creation didn’t consider something as frivolous of this; His body wasn’t meant for yours. But you’ve made it work nonetheless, forced it to.

He hears your pitiful whine and hoarse cry as you come against his mouth, desperately grabbing at his hand smothering your stomach and keeping you pressed down in place. He whispers and praises like you’re singing a song just for him, music to his ears.

You could stop here and be satisfied, more than so, but you know that he has so much more he wishes to give you. These moments are rare, but when you manage to steal them he indulges in you until the sun rises and you’re begging for rest. At least a days worth, usually no one sees much of you for a few days after such an evening.

His mouth pulls away from you, his body rises to hover over yours and the difference in your bodies has you swallowed in his shadow, though he only sees you surrounded in light. Your skin glows, lips parted and seemingly beckoning him in.

There’s been nothing more beautiful to him in his life than you, in this moment.

He doesn’t know why he resisted this for so long, though perhaps he should’ve, because now there’s nothing in the galaxy he wants more.

“My love, my little goddess, please, let me…”

You grit your teeth as he presses his way inside of you, a balance teetering just before true pain as you feel the threat of his body weight against your hips and thighs. There isn't much space for your legs to go, they can't truly part wide enough for someone as massive as Lorgar, and so they press into your stomach like he's going to fold you in half.

Throughout it all he speaks as if you’re his gift, as if you’re a beautiful star made manifest.

His whispers his prayers his pleading becomes more desperate until he finishes inside of you, feeling his hot skin against your own.

When his body lays beside yours, he’s looks upon your tired form with reverence. With the same shine in his eyes when he reads his gospel or writes a verse. You wonder if one day it will ever become too much, or if you’ll come crashing down from the pedestal he’s put you on.

“I love you, my dear. More than any other man that has spoken those words. I will pluck any star you desire out of the sky, conquer any planet, or bring anyone to heel just for you.”

You might wish to tell him not to, but the words don’t leave your lips. He kisses you, takes those words from you and leaves you breathless as his hand cups your jaw, and he begins to pray to you once more.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

badboyhalo october 1st stream recap

okay okay quick recap for anyone who couldn't watch the stream/can't watch bad's vod (tw discussion of derealization, paranoia (being watched especially), hallucinations, bad having a BAD time, etc. if any of this stuff super bothers you then you may want to avoid badboyhalo's livestreams for the foreseeable future, he's a long-term storyteller)

Bad started off his stream with a black screen and white text.

"Welcome. Dear cucurucho, why are you in my [the text went offscreen] I just want to talk please come say hello I know your there cucurucho come come come out wherever you are cucuruchoooooooo CUCURUCHSOFIOOGI" [note: keysmash not exact]

When Bad turned his screen on, he was in dapper's room, rocking back and forth. he was calling for cucurucho and talking about it living in his house. He kept jumping at nothing. He spoke to the pictures of the kids as if they were real, and asked "richarlyson" if forever was the one in his house.

he didn't want to leave dapper's room because it was his 'safe room,' but he eventually did. His base is now covered in GIANT signs that have red text and cucurucho's model that say "NO FEDERATION ALLOWED" and "YOUR BEING WATCHED" and one more i can't remember. he put up cameras everywhere and said "Look! I have cameras! Now I know when someone comes in... and when someone leaves." which isn't super important but it was an awesome line

he ended up going to spawn to look for cucurucho, and it was full of scaffolding. bad didn't take this well. It's unclear if the scaffolding was part of his hallucinations or not, but he fixated on it 'being' cucurucho. He suspected forever, cellbit, and foolish were also cucurucho. He questioned what was and wasn't real- including himself.

Bad started SEEING cucurucho in the distance, watching him, before it would disappear again. When it came back, sometimes it was renamed. "ENJOY THE ISLAND" and ":)" were some of the renamings, and I cannot remember them all. Bad started out by chasing cucurucho, shouting at it and asking if it were various items/mobs. He saw two of them at once at once point and was lead up into slime's hold house, through flippa's room (where there was a single block of scaffolding), and then out off of jaiden's balcony.

As the chase went on Bad started to become more frightened. Cucurucho was flying. he started to lose sense of where he was (shown by the admins teleporting him around) and hallucinated a nether portal he threatened to go through.

At some point Bad questioned if Dapper was cucurucho, too.

Eventually Bad retreated to the wall to cower in a 1x1 hole that went beneath the wall. cucurucho broke several blocks in front of him and appeared, revving its chainsaw. when it disappeared again there was a hole broken into the floor that lead to a cave and LONG tunnels beneath the wall. the visual was terrifying i promise.

cucurucho chased bad through the tunnels. he was screaming “please please stop I’ll be good I promise please go away.” At one point cucurucho appeared behind bad with the name "Bad?Boy?Halo?" and bad freaked out about potentially being cucurucho.

cucurcucho chased bad through a cave system until two cucuruchos cornered him to blow bubbles. their names were "do you?" and "YES". bad ran from them and found some scaffolding loose on the ground, (which had been built up to lead him out of the cave), said "this is it, this is you" and threw into lava.

Bad warped back home, insisting, "You can't come here, you can't come here." He was calmer in his house, but then was hit by the blindness effect and started yelling about the signs and "NO FEDERATION ALLOWED." he sang a little song about it

short story short: cucurucho appeared in his house. he saw it behind a glass wall. he was furious and terrified and growling "you can't be in here." he ran into dapper's room, where it appeared AGAIN with the name "WITHOUT M***" (last few letters were in the wall lmao). bad started sprinting around his house trying to find a safe place. cucurucho chased him with a chainsaw down the aquarium hallway.

Two cucuruchos kept popping up and disappearing, both with different names each time. Bad asked them "who let you in my house?" and went through a series of names such as: foolish, forever, tina, cellbit, baghera, antoine, fit- and finally settled on Ron.

Bad went to go see Ron. The hallway was dark, and Ron's room was unlit. When Bad opened the door, Cucurucho, with the nametag "RON" above its head, looked back at him. Bad said, "I knew it. It was Ron. He let you in." A second Cucurucho appeared with the nametag "ALWAYSHERE."

Bad was given blindness again, and he started to laugh as a chainsaw whirred. We heard bubbles blowing. Then the screen faded entirely to black, and Bad said, "Come here, Ron. Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

We heard rapid damage sounds, and then the sound of eating.

(the END of his stream had black and white text "SEE You NeXt tIme :)" as an example. The other messages were classic streamer "thanks for watching" and "make sure to follow" messages with similar fucked up cases, but this was supposed to be a fast recap lmao)

TLDR: Bad's paranoia has increased to the point of hallucinations. He's now frightened of Cucurucho, and suspects that everyone on the island is/could be helping Cucurucho get into his base. He associates cucurucho with scaffolding now. He is NOT sound of mind. He ate Ron Lemons.

If I missed anything important, feel free to add on!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.5 K Warnings: none Prompt: The divination classroom becomes an intriguing nexus for forging new friendships amidst revelations laden with enigmatic symbolism. Meanwhile, Defense Against the Dark Arts delves even deeper into the shadows as you struggle to grasp the imminence of the ever-looming wаr. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 9: The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroкe

September 24, 1976 - Friday

Your race with Sirius, Marlene and a couple of other students who decided to tag along and prove their worth would be next week. The broom race was basically the talk of town. James had talked to the other Quidditch Team Captains, Lyonel Aldridge, Delilah Moss and of course Dmitri Volkov, and they all reached to the conclusion that it would be a great way to boost their team’s morale before the first match.

You woke up early like you had been doing the past couple of weeks, but you and Sirius had gotten a lot more competitive, so competitive you’d already gotten on James’ nerves. Which was something pretty hard to do when you were talking about quidditch. Every day you’d go on mini races, inventing new challenges to fulfill and you always pestered James regarding who’d gotten there first.

“My hand reached the line first,” Sirius said.

“Yeah, but it’s not about hands, it’s about brooms, my broom reached the halo first.” You argued back. 

“It’s not about brooms, we said whoever gets there first, and clearly I did.” 

“Sirius you can’t bend the rules so you win all the time! Besides, if I had stretched my hand I would’ve reached first so it doesn’t count.” 

“It does because you didn’t!” 

“James tell him!” You said. 

“No James, tell her!”

James sighed exasperated and hit his head against the handle of his broom “Just fucк each other already,” he mumbled, not that either of you heard it. 

“What?” You asked with a frown. 

“You know what?" He snapped, sitting straight "Neither of you won! And your mini air races when practicing? They’re OVER! No more broom races until official race day and then you’ll admit the other is a faster flier and this bickering will be forgotten.” 

“But James!” Both you and Sirius argued. 

He gave you both a stern look, and you shot your mouth. “Fine then, till the race we’ll know.” 

Sirius nodded “Truce?” He said offering you his hand. You took a deep breath and shook it. 

Once you were back in the ground Sirius called you with a smirk “Hey (Y/N)! Bet I can get to the common room before you do.” He then started running. 

“You wish,” you said running behind him.

James sighed again “We said no races!” 

“You said no flying,” Sirius shouted back. 

You then turned to James with a smile as you ran “He’s right, this is running.” 

James rolled his eyes but took off running behind the two of you anyway. The only thing that sometimes shut the two of you up, was when someone else won, and he had the longest legs. In the end, he was indeed the first one to arrive, letting himself fall on the couch as you and Sirius fought your way inside. 

“Prongs, you’re here?” You said out of breath when you saw him laying on the couch, regaining his own breath. 

He frowned “Since when do you call me Prongs?” He asked amused. 

“Oh… um… sorry, it must have slipped,” You said as you sat down “I blame Sirius for it.” 

James laughed “No, it’s fine. You can call me Prongs.” He took a long breath, “But stop blaming Pads for everything.” 

“In my defence. It really is ALWAYS Sirius’ fault.” 

He made the face of a man that agreed with your statement. “James!” Sirius complained he noticed. 

James grimaced in return “For fucкs sake, take me away from these two,” he said grabbing a pillow and placing it over his head dramatically. 

You and Sirius exchanged a glance, yeah, you may be bickering all the time now, but it was all friendly banter, James was overreacting. 

“Morning,” you heard Remus say as he came down the stairs “Just got here from practice?” 

You nodded “And they’re getting on my nerves Moony,” James grumbled. 

Remus raised an eyebrow at the two of you “We just asked him to decide who’d been the winner of our mini race,” you said innocently.

 He nodded, understanding. “Leave poor James alone, he’s been doing so much to prepare your race that… he might actually be sick of quidditch by the end of it.” 

James instantly reacted to Remus’ words, removing the pillow from his head “I would never!” 

You were sweaty from so much running so you excused yourself and went for a short shower, Lily was preparing her backpack when you walked out of the bathroom, using your wand to dry your hair. “Today we’re picking the fluxweed together, right?” You asked her. 

She nodded “Just wait for me, will you? We’ll walk to the greenhouse together, don’t think of going by yourself.” 

“Of course, I’ll wait for you Lils, don’t worry about it,” you told her with a smile and finished both closing the buttons of your shirt, and shoving your stuff quickly in your bag "Ready for breakfast?"

Lily nodded and the two of you walked down to the common room together. The boys were secretly talking to each other on the corner close to the fire, looking all conspiratoriall as they did. "You coming for breakfast?" Lily asked them. Remus turned to look at her, his brown eyes seemed more golden than usual, you wondered if it was because of the lighting in the room.

"Yes, we’ll be down in a minute tho, we’re helping Peter finish his Divination essay.” 

You raised an eyebrow at that statement. Since when did they help Peter with essays? Well, Remus definitely would help Peter, he’d probably help anyone that asked nicely. But the rest? Sirius? That was a bit sus, to say the least. But Lily was already walking out of the common room, so after giving them one more look, you followed her. Maybe they were planning another prank like the rain on the main hall. 

Once you were downstairs, the two of you walked towards the great hall. Mary, Marlene, Beth and some others were already there, having breakfast. You greeted them all with a smile “Good morning!” You said as you sat down. 

“Morning,” responded Mary as she looked up from her copy of The Daily Prophet. 

“Anything new?” You asked her, nodding towards the paper. 

She shook her head “Just the wаr,” she replied somberly “Apparently some deatheaters went on a кiling spree. They’re trying to get the muggle-borns.” 

“An older lady was кiled,” Marlene continued “Marsha Allenty, she was a muggle-born auror.” 

You shuddered at the thought. Muggle-borns first, half-borns next, it wouldn’t take them too long to destroy half the wizarding population if they kept going. Someone had to stop them. You were about to say something when the owls started coming in.  

Your family owl, Barnaby, flew down, dropping a package in front of you. You looked at it. The (Y/LN) family seal was stamped over the elegant wrapping. It had to be from your mother. You opened the package, it contained several things. Some galleons, sweets from your favourite bakery back at home, which instantly told you they’d been travelling. A box filled with different potions, and some ingredients to brew shampoo and other beauty-related things. A special potions booklet and a small velvet box. 

You opened it and there was a ring inside, a thin metal piece with some engravings on it and a gem at the top, held by 4 small pieces of metal, two shaped like a star and two shaped like a moon. 

“What is it?” asked Beth, leaning into you from the side. 

“A gift from my parents,” you responded, taking the reins out of the box to show it to her. 

“It’s stunning,” she told you. “Do you know what that is?” She said pointing at the stone. 

“Moonstone, isn’t it?” You asked, Beth nodded. “Mom cares a lot about the magical properties of stones,” you explained. 

“And the metal is silver,” she said turning the ring around, taking a look at the little seal on the inside. 

“Silver?” You frowned, taking a closer look “You’re right, that’s different. She’s never given me a silver piece before.” 

“Maybe she thinks you’re old enough?” She asked with a shrug. 

You nodded, but it wasn’t that. Your mom always gave you gold things. She said the protective value of it was a lot higher than any other metal. Even the necklace Sirius had given you in the vacation, made of brass, was turned into gold with a special spell she had, a spell that would leave all the magical properties of the item intact. 

“Well, whatever the reason, she did pick a beautiful ring,” you said, finally sliding it through one of your fingers. 

“Do you know what magic it’s got?” 

You shook your head, looking through the box to see if your mom had written any kind of letter. You didn’t find any and shrugged it off “Maybe she just thought it was pretty…” 

“What was pretty?” Asked Peter, who appeared almost out of nowhere along with the boys. 

“(Y/N) was gifted a new ring,” said Mary before taking a bite from her eggs. 

You raised your hand so Peter could see it “Got it on a package from my mom.”

“Moon and stars, eh?” He asked with a raised eyebrow “Interesting choice of symbolism, isn’t it?” 

You looked at Peter and shrugged. He was right, it was an interesting choice of symbolism. Your mom, like you, had an affinity to divination. Maybe she knew something you didn’t “My mom loves that stuff,” you told him, and lowered your hand back to the table, taking your fork to dig into a sausage. 

The boys sat further down on the table. Just close enough to still be able to talk to everyone already sitting there. You left early to go check on the fireworms. Remus and you had decided to split the days in which you had to feed them, and today was your turn. When you arrived at the tunnel entrance you looked around to make sure no one had followed you and entered as quickly as possible. 

“Lumus,” You whispered, and your wand lit up, making the dark tunnel navigable. You looked through the pockets of your robe and found the scrap of parchment Remus had made for you. “Revelio,” you said as you moved your wand over it, revealing a tiny map of the tunnels. You were sure you’d learn the way soon enough, but for now, the little map was indispensable.

You used the map to navigate the tunnel until you arrived at the little nook in which you’d hidden your fireworms. You grabbed some of the food in your backpack and gently placed it on the food trays you’d created with a couple of pumpkin juice caps. You looked at the little fireworms satisfied when you noticed one of them was shining, like a firefly. But the light travelled from the end of the tail, all the way through his body and towards his head, then with a small little sound, almost like a fairy burp, the fireworm caused a small ball of fire to come from his mouth. You looked at it amazed, and quickly put the small fire out with your wand. 

You grabbed your backpack and took out your charms book, trying to find a flames stopper or fire preventive spell as soon as possible. Soon enough you found something that could work and cast it all over the little fireworm habitat you and Remus had been building. After the spell was ready, you stayed for a couple of minutes to make sure they wouldn’t cause a fire that’d burn the entire castle down and once you were certain you let out a long sigh, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. 

You were thrilled, your fireworms were doing excellent, the way you and Remus had taken care of them allowed them to develop in less time than the standard, which would guarantee the two of you really good grades. You had to tell Remus about it. Maybe you could tell him in divination. Shiit, divination! You were supposed to be in divination. You ran out of the little nook and used the map to find a shortcut towards the divination tower. Once outside you knocked on the door a couple of times and waited. Professor Spellman opened the door, letting you inside with a displeased glance. 

“I’m sorry for being late,” you mumbled as fast as possible. You walked inside and started walking towards Remus, who luckily, hadn’t been paired with anyone yet. 

“Miss (Y/LN),” Professor Spellman called, you turned to him “You will be working with Sybil today,” he said, pointing towards the small Ravenclaw girl. You swallowed but nodded and walked towards her table. You knew who she was, Remus had told you about her, and her story, and you’d probably exchanged a couple of words with her in the past, but you’d never really talked to her. 

“Hey,” you waved as you sat next to her, she waved back, with a small smile, and absentmindedly nudged her glasses back to their place. You looked at her for a minute, her hair might be messy, and you heard she wasn’t very popular, but she was very pretty non the less. 

Professor Spellman started talking and with a flick of his wand opened some cabinets, floating a teapot in front of each table, Leaf reading. You and Sybil brew the tea together, using some of the herbs suggested by the book for more accurate readings. And started chatting to each other after you served your respective teas. 

“Do you like divination?” She asked you. 

“I… uh… not that much, I’ve had some experiences,” you stuttered. 

“Sad readings?” She asked, with a sympathetic expression. 

You nodded, taking a sip of your tea “It’s always negative stuff with me,” you explained “Accurate, but negative.” You shuddered, “What about you? With your legacy and all?” 

“I don’t dislike it,” she told you with a smile, “I don’t like getting sad readings either but it’s fun to know bits of the future, for example, the other day I had these feeling that it was going to rain, so I put on some rain boots before going to Care for Magical Creatures, some Hufflepuffs and even other kids from my year were throwing looks at me, but when it started raining and everyone’s shoes got ruined, but mine didn’t, it was completely worth it.”

You smiled at her story “I don’t get those kinds of feelings,” you said “But it’s nice to meet someone that enjoys it, maybe you could help me enjoy it too.” 

Eventually, you both finished your teas and exchanged teacups. You took a deep breath and eventually leaned over to look at her cup, hoping there would be something good in there. You exhaled when you saw a small little butterfly on the cup. Butterflies were good, they meant change, they meant personal growth, they meant… Images flashed through your eyes, and you breathed heavily a couple of times, trying to regain composure. 

Sybil knew exactly what was going on, she’d been through it several times before too. So she looked at you with concern. “What did you see?” She asked in a steady tone. 

“Nothing bad,” was the first thing you managed to muster, “just… you’ll give a prophecy soon. A very important one, I saw Professor Dumbledore, he seemed really interested in what you had to say.” She nodded at your words, writing everything you said down on a piece of paper, then you looked at her, placing a hand on her arm “Sybil, this prophecy… it looked like it was going to be dark,” you said “but it’s one of those that will change the world.” 

She nodded, taking in all the information you’d given her. She did not doubt a single word you said. And you were glad she did, sometimes visions as such were hard to comprehend, and that’s if the person even cared for it. 

“Are you ok?” She asked then. 

You nodded “I– uh…” you looked at her tea “You will have a period of transformation and positive change, like the metamorphosis of a butterfly,” you told her, making an effort to read the rest of her tea leaves “You should, uh… embrace the opportunities that’ll come your way and also let yourself spread your wings.” 

She laughed in response “That’s my fortune?” She asked motioning towards her tea cup. 

 “Yeah,” you nodded, sounding very certain about it “You must accept your uniqueness,” you added for good measure, after all, humor is one of the best ways to cope with such things “And me? What’s my destiny?” 

She adjusted her glasses and took a peak at your cup “I see… stars, the moon, they’re surrounding something,” she said “A small animal, maybe a hare, or… a wildcat?” 

You looked at her with a frown “Did you say the moon and stars?” 

She nodded, tilting the cup towards you. And she was right, the moon was there, the stars too, and… the small animal? That was a fox. You took a deep breath and showed her the ring your mom had given you “My mom sent me this,” you told her “also moon and stars symbolism.” 

Sybil raised an eyebrow “Does she have an affinity with divination?” She asked. You nodded in response “Then it must mean something…” she said, picking up her book and flipping through it “But I can’t find anything about the moon and stars in the book.” 

“Interpret it,” Said Professor Spellman as he walked by, looking at Sybil with a stern face. 

She nodded, sliding towards the back of the chair, Professor Spellman was imposing, to say the least. “I uh… I see the moon and the stars, they’re close, to a… it’s a–“ 

“It’s a fox,” you told her “The animal, it’s not a wild cat, it’s a fox.” 

“A fox, right!” she agreed, “and I– are those flowers?” She asked looking deeper into the cup. By then your little interaction had piqued the attention of some other students from the class, they were watching the two of you intently. “I– I may be getting things twisted but… according to your cup, the moon and the star will find a blossoming love with…” she hesitated “with the fox.” 

Everyone around the classroom laughed, but the professor raised a hand to quiet them, looking into the cup himself “Sybil’s reading is accurate.” He said, “Maybe (Y/N) has an idea what those symbols might mean?”

You sat straighter, looking at the professor “I seem to be surrounded by symbolism today,” you told him “But I’m sorry sir, I’ve got no idea what it may mean. Perhaps I’ll adopt a fox or something? Shower it with love and stuff,” You lied. While you may have not been able to understand the whole symbolism, there was one thing you knew for certain: you were the fox. 

The Professor nodded, even if he didn’t look convinced, and moved towards someone else’s table. You exhaled, only then realizing you’d been holding your breath. “He can be very intimidating, right?” Sybil asked you. 

You nodded “Definitely.” She looked like she wanted to tell you something else “What is it?” You asked her. 

“Just.. be careful, yeah? The moon, it– it looks a little mennacing on your cup. Like… like it could be dangerous.” 

You frowned “As in, maybe I shouldn’t go out tonight dangerous or…?” 

“No, no,” she shook her head “I don’t know how to explain it, just… keep that in mind, will ya?” 

You nodded, placing a hand on her arm to reassure her “And you’ll be a famous fortune teller soon,” you told her with a smile “How does that feel?” 

She shrugged “I always expected to end up as one, I guess it’s nice to get a prediction of what you’ll be, makes it a little more certain.” 

“And you trust my predictions?” You asked her with a shrug.

She nodded furiously “Of course I do! It’s not every day a fairy tells you your fortune.” 

“I’m sorry?!” You asked her, shocked. 

“I saw it in your cup,” she explained “I didn’t mean to pry, but it made sense… your divination affinity, your charm and magnetism, your talent while flying… You’re part fairy, aren’t you?”  

You looked at her mortified, your parents had done so many things to keep that hidden and now Sybil just guessed it, “You can’t tell anyone,” you told her in a very serious tone. 

She smiled at you “I wasn’t planning to, your secrets are safe with me.” You smiled at her after that, you trusted her. 

Once the class was over you stood up, but she stayed in her seat “You don’t have another class?” You asked her politely. 

She shook her head “I’ve got arithmancy next, I took it as an optative.” 

You hummed in response “Have fun then,” You told her with a smile “I’ve got Magical Theory.”

“Good luck, I heard Professor Pendragon, can be very strict.” 

“No worse than Spellman,” you whispered, so that the Professor in question, who was talking to some other students wouldn’t hear you. Sybil laughed and you finally pulled your backpack from your seat and started walking outside but you were stopped by Professor Spellman. 

“Miss (Y/LN),” he said, and you walked closer to him “Be very careful tonight,” he warned, “there was something odd on your cup, and as you may know, today is Full Moon.” 

You nodded “Thanks, Professor.” Clearly, he saw the same thing Sybil had seen, which was mildly disturbing, but alas, your day had to continue.

Once you were outside of the classroom you spotted the boys a few stairs down. Peter was walking with the girls, you assumed towards their Ancient Studies class, while James, Sirius and Remus walked together, they were walking towards the east wing, to Magical Theory, the class you shared. You had the intention to catch up with them, but they were looking as suspicious as they had looked earlier in the common room, talking in whispers to each other, heads so close they could easily bump together. You decided it was best to let them be, you’d been hanging out with them so much lately, they probably needed some space. So you slowed down your pace, just far enough so they could get their much-needed privacy. 

Eventually, you reached the Magical Theory classroom, and when you arrived you found James waiting at the door, he quickly pulled you towards him and said “She’s gonna be my team.”  

You looked at him with a shrug “Your team? for what?” 

Remus, who was close by responded “The teacher said we’ll be working on a team project, Sirius and I are working together, so James was waiting to claim you as his team.” 

“Besides, I really need your help,” James added. 

You frowned, and asked, a little confused “With the project?” 

“No, with Evans!” He whispered.

Realization down on you and you looked at Remus “He didn’t even ask you to be on his team, did he?” 

He shook his head in response, mouthing a “nope.” 

You laughed, “All right then, we’re a team,” you told James “You can ask me all you need when we–“ You cut yourself off “Wait, Remus! I’ve got to tell you something…” 

“All right, if you gave your teams, please take a seat, class will start.” You heard the teacher say. 

“Nevermind,” you  told him as you turned back since James was pulling you into a table near the back “You’re not planning to pay much attention then?” 

“Don’t scorn me like that,” he complained “We’ll pay attention, I just– really need your advice.” 

"In this project, you will embark on a captivating journey to craft your very own magical artifact. Channel your imagination, drawing inspiration from the likes of invisibility cloaks and rememberalls, as you fashion an extraordinary creation of your own making," the teacher commenced, igniting a spark of curiosity among the class, even James, who had been mortified about Lily just minutes earlier was paying attention.

"Each artifact should possess a distinct purpose, serving its intended function with finesse. You will delve into the depths of your creativity, meticulously designing a blueprint that brings your vision to life. Fear not, for guidance shall be provided, I will walk with you every step of the way“ the teacher reassured, yet a chorus of playful groans filled the air in response to the mention of project design papers.

"Ah, I understand your sentiment," the teacher chuckled, acknowledging the students' apprehension. "But worry not! The journey shall be as enchanting as the destination itself. These project design papers will serve as a canvas to weave together the threads of your imagination, showcasing the brilliance of your creation. Embrace the opportunity to bring your ideas to fruition, weaving magic into the tangible realm. Who knows, you may be the next creators to hold the rights to an incredibly useful device that will sell millions.“ With these words, a wave of anticipation and excitement rippled through the classroom, as students began envisioning the magical artifacts they would soon breathe life into.

“Well, that’s an interesting project,” you said as you started writing down some ideas in your notebook. 

“It’s brilliant, we could ask him to help us with the map!” 

“What map?” You asked while raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh… sorry,” he said “I thought for a minute that you– nevermind. You need to help me with Lily.” James had gotten so used to hanging around you and the boys at the same time for a moment he thought you already knew about the Marauders Map. 

You sighed “Of course James. Tell me what happened,” you said, turning to him “but please write some ideas down as you do.” 

He nodded, and started scribbling on his piece of paper “You see, since we kissed back at Marlene’s party–“

“–James that was a game, you can’t be hung up on that.” You interrupted. 

“No, you don’t understand, there was a connection.” 

You rolled your eyes, while you did think Lily maybe had a little bit of a crush on James, you also knew she wasn’t anywhere ready to admit it. Especially with James’ incessant flirting since like 4th year. Marlene had told you about it. “James, it sounds ridiculous. I kissed Remus then too, and I’m not hung up on it.” 

He narrowed his eyes at that “but you seemed to enjoy it.” 

You shrugged “Can’t say he’s a bad kisser.” And Remus is handsome, you thought “But that’s not the point anyway. What happened?” 

“Lily seems more willing to talk to me lately,” he explained.

“Well, that’s lovely, just give her enough space so you don’t make her feel pressured. Be kind and nice… and stuff.” 

“I was thinking of making this very grand gesture on the quidditch–“ 

You shook your head “James Potter,” you warned “If you so much as try something like that you will scare her away. She’s barely realizing she might like you, don’t do THAT!” 

“What did you just say?” 

“Don’t do it!” You insisted.

“No,” he shook his head, “before that.” 

“I said that she’s barely realizing she might have a c… fuck.” 

“You think… You think she likes me?” He asked, in a very small high pitched tone.

“I– wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” he looked so sad, “…yet.” 

“Yet?” He asked, perking up as a surge of excitement ran through his body.

You nodded “I… think she’s warming up to you,” you told him sincerely “Just don’t do anything that could scare her away, please.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like a scary grand gesture for example.” 

The professor walked toward you “Any ideas so far?” He said looking at James’ messy writing. 

James nodded “A confetti cannon that, after using it, leaves confetti wherever you go,” he said, and read another idea “a pair of shoes that make the wearer constantly trip, a teapot that won’t stop whistling, even without any tea on it, and a buble liquid that makes ticklish bubbles.” He said proudly. 

You stared dagger at him and covered his notes with your some parchment “It’s still a work in progress,” you told the teacher with the most charming smile you could muster, “James and I are still looking for better ideas.” 

The professor nodded and kept walking around the classroom. 

“Tripping shoes?” You asked in desbeilif “an ever whistling teapot? Are you for real–“

“–In my defence, I’m not great at multitasking.”

“No shiit Sherlock,” you told him.

“The tripping shoes could be funny tho.”

“Yeah, and the tickling bubbles are useful, for pranks, but Professor Pendragon wants us to invent the next invisibility cloak, I don’t think he’d be too satisfied with any of those options.” 

“What about a ring that’s also an invisibility cloak?” 

You rose your eyebrow at him “You mean like in the Lord of the Rings?” 

“What’s the Lord of the Rings?” 

You gasped, offended, you too had grown on a pure-blood wizard family but at least you knew the Lord of the Rings, “The hobbit?! Does not ring any bells?” He shook his head “It’s a very popular muggle book, you should really brush up on your muggle literature. Perhaps you should have taken muggle studies instead.”

“Hey!” He complained, “Don’t bash me for not being a literature genius like you and Remus.”

“I bet even Sirius would know about The Lord of the Rings.” 

“How much?” 

“10 sickles?” You asked. 

“Oh, I’m really, really sure Sirius won’t know either,” James said “Make it 20.” 

You rose your eyebrow at his challenge and nodded “Deal,” you said raising your hand to shake his, successfully closing the deal. 

“So… the magical ring’s off the table?” 

“No, I… I don’t think it’s a bad idea, maybe we can make a magical ring, just, with different powers instead.” 

“Like…?”

You shrugged in response “We could make two rings that always find each other.” 

“Ohhh, and I could give one to Lily!” James said excitedly, you threw him a look “Like… not now... When we start dating… obviously.” 

“Love the confidence of that statement,” you said with a smile, thinking of how James had used when instead of if. 

He winked “What about a bracelet that lets you communicate with someone else, like a… muggle telephone.” 

“Or a walkie talkie…” you agreed.

“A what?” He asked. 

“You’re joking, right?” 

“I- uh… yeah,” he replied, not confidently at all. 

“Damn it, James, you urgently need some muggle classes.” You said and started drawing a pair of walkie-talkies on the notebook, trying to explain their use, and how they worked, even if you weren’t entirely certain of how they did. “Can’t believe none of you thought it’d be useful to have some of them around. Especially for your pranks.” 

“Yeah, me neither,” he agreed “You know smoke signals aren’t really the most effective.” 

“Surely you didn’t try that,” You said confidently, his expression gave him away “You did?!?” 

He shook his head, letting out a long sigh “We were in detention for days.” 

You chuckled  at that “At least you have the little paper planes now,” you said, remembering the day Remus had sent one to the boys, same day he took you to the lake because you were feeling upset. 

“They’re useful, but they can be intercepted.” He explained, “Not very good for top secret plans.” 

You laughed, of course, James would consider his prank plans worthy of the Top Secret title. “What about a bracelet?” You asked then.

“A magical bracelet? Sounds good, also with walkie-talkie abilities?” 

“Could be more convenient than a ring…” you responded, “Not really sure about it tho."

“What about a pair of glasses that can help you see better in the dark?” He asked, “For those times where you can’t use lumos, maybe you lost your wand, or you wanna be inconspicuous.” 

“Night vision googles, I dig it.” 

“Exactly, but smaller, more practical to carry around.” 

“Well, I guess we’ve got a few solid ideas then,” you said as you started picking up your things, you and James had stayed brainstorming together for a little longer than you realized “Class is over?”

James nodded “Moony and Pads left already,” he said as he looked towards the table your friends had been sitting on, “probably to the great hall, we said we’d eat together.” 

“Peter too?” You asked him, he nodded.

“Wanna join us?” 

You shrugged in response, “though you were planning a prank or something,” you said as you walked towards the door with him by your side. 

He frowned “Why?” 

“All the secretive talks? You’ve been awfully suspicious today.” 

“What? No- that’s… it’s not. We’re not suspicious.” 

You gave him an incredulous look but nodded “No, not at all,” you added sarcastically. 

Once you were in the hall you spotted Remus and Sirius walking ahead of you and remembered you had to tell him about your fireworms so you picked up the pace. You walked behind him, for a minute, but he was so entertained in his conversation with Sirius you decided it’d be funny to tease him, so you extended your arms, and standing in your toes –because Remus was actually pretty tall– you decided to cover his eyes with your palms “Guess who–“ you started, but didn’t even get enough time to finish since Remus practically jumped out of your grasp in seconds, hissing as the silver of your new ring came into contact with his skin. It didn’t leave a mark but it did hurt him like hell. 

Sirius, being quick to figure the new ring you wore had silver on it, looked at you with panic, but you didn’t notice, you were too concerned over Remus’ reaction. “I– I’m sorry Rem, didn’t mean to scare you…” you stammered “I… I was just trying to tease.” James and Sirius finally relaxed when they noticed you’d thought Remus was just scared. 

“It’s ok…” he said with a forced smile as he extended his hand, a safe distance between your ring and himself “I wasn’t expecting you to come up from behind like that.” 

You didn’t seem convinced but nodded, concern still evident on your face. “I uhh… I was trying to catch up to actually,” You finally changed the subject. James had gotten in between you and Remus as you walked, so you leaned a little towards the front to see your friend better “It’s about our fireworms, they’re already breathing fire.” 

“What? I thought they wouldn’t do it until they were like a month old,” said Sirius. 

“Exactly!” You nodded excitedly “They weren’t, our caring must have been phenomenal. Our babies are overachievers.” 

“You’re keeping them together?” James asked. 

You nodded “Co-parenting,” you paused “We split tasks and that way we make sure we don’t burn down the school by accident.” 

Remus nodded in agreement “It’s easy to remember to feed them when it’s only a couple times a week instead of every single day.” 

“And we found an excellent spot to keep them too, away from stress and anything that could make them nervous.” 

“Well, the overachievers are not the worms,” Sirius said giving you and Remus a look. 

James agreed “We just gave ours to Peter, in exchange for some other homework.” 

“By the way (Y/N), mind taking care of them tomorrow too?” Remus asked politely.

“Sure thing,” you said, not thinking much of it. 

You had your lunch with the boys, the girls and Peter joined you a bit later and you all walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Professor Nightshade was elegantly leaning on her desk when you arrived at her classroom. She looked a little tense. Like she wasn’t too excited about the class to come. 

Once most students were inside she shut the door with a wave of her wand “Today we will be going through the unforgivable curses.” She said, looking rather dejected “and while is not of my favourite classes to teach, we must delve into the subject, especially in dark times like these in which you might need to defend yourselves from one of them.” 

The entire class was silent, everyone was paying attention to every single one of her words. It wasn’t uncommon to hear about the war, it was on the paper every single day, but most students chose to avoid and ignore the subject, so even if the war was going on, it was outside, Hogwarts was safe. But being confronted with it, so upfront, felt, well, it felt eerie and scary. 

“Can someone name the unforgivable curses?” She asked. 

Lily raised her hand “The кilling course, Imperius curse and…” 

“The cruciatus curse,” Finished Sirius with a heavy breath. 

“Correct!” Seraphina said, “10 points for Gryffindor… Indeed those are the three unforgivable curses, and they are unforgivable because…”

“Because they violate the rights of whoever is being cursed by them,” you responded. 

“Can any of them be avoided?” 

You shook your head “Only very experienced wizards can resist Imperio.” 

“And countered?” 

“Physical barriers might block some of the curses, but there is no known spell that can do such a thing.” Said Remus. 

“No one has ever survived a кilling course either,” Imogen Potts added.  

“Seems like you’ve been doing all the readings accordingly,” the teacher said satisfied “Now, you know the theory, but today we will have a small demonstration.” The students gasped, but Seraphina nodded heavily “You must know what you’re up against,” she pulled out a box and opened it, a butterfly flew out of it, about the size of your palm. Seraphina let the small insect fly freely for a minute before pointing her wand straight at her and whispering “Imperio.”  

The butterfly started flying around, making circles around the class before landing on Marlene’s nose. She was sitting beside you, so you looked at her in awe as the butterfly batted its wings softly near her face. But then Seraphina changed the course, whispering “Cruicio.” The butterfly fell from Marlene’s nose and onto your table, right next to your book as it batted its wings helplessly. You looked at it with concern, Seraphina herself looked mortified as she inflicted pain on the small creature.

You gave her an imploring look, and that was all it took for her to stop. The small butterfly was released from the pain and started flying all around the classroom, desperately looking to get away from the place. Once the butterfly was close enough to her, she whispered the last curse and after a green flash came from her wand, the butterfly stopped flying, slowly falling to the ground, like a leaf from a tree. 

The whole classroom was quiet. You stood up and carefully picked up the small butterfly from the floor. Looking at it pitifully as you handed it over to Seraphina, who held the box out for you to place it inside. “As you’ve seen, these curses are not only lethal but terrifying as well. There is a reason why, whoever dares to infringe them, will never be forgiven.” 

“They will go to Azkaban,” whispered Peter. 

“What a pitiful destiny,” agreed Sirius. 

Professor Nightshade sighed heavily “I think this is enough for today, you may go.”

Students nodded and started placing their things into their backpacks. When you stood up, you walked towards her “I want to be in the duelling club.” You told her “I… I don’t want to end up like the butterfly.” 

Seraphina looked at you, a sorrowful look in her eyes, she understood the implications of what you’d said. She knew how heavy your statement was. And she nodded “Of course darling, you’ll be a brilliant addition to the club.” 

You nodded, satisfied and finally caught up with your friends. You went straight to Lily “At what time must we go get the fluxweed?” You asked. 

“It’s supposed to be when the moon it’s at its highest point,” she told you “I checked the astronomy section of the paper in the morning, apparently at around 11:30 pm.” 

“All right, we can totally hang out together till then, right? Do you have any plans?” 

She shook her head “We had study club, but we cancelled it today, I was thinking of maybe going to the library to get some stuff and then studying or just chilling back at the common room.” 

“It’s settled then,” you told her with a smile, walking alongside her towards the library. Since you had already finished most of your assignments you decided to walk through the long bookshelf to see if you found anything that caught your eye, while Lily looked for some more specific books. And as you walked over the edge of one of the bookshelves you bumped into Nina, the small Ravenclaw girl from the study grup that had a crush on Remus. “Hey love,” you said politely. 

“Hi,” she replied quietly. To be fair, Nina really wanted to dislike you when she first encountered you. She was jealous of how close you and Remus had gotten in such a short period of time, but you had always treated her with kindness, genuinely willing to help her, if she had any questions, or needed help with a particular spell; that, in the end, she couldn’t help but like you instead. In fact, she’d go as far as to say she admired you. She’d seen you practicing spells and she even went to one of the quidditch trainings, with the intention to ogle at Remus who had gone too, but she was far too entranced by you when you were flying that she almost completely forgot about her original reason for going. 

“You looking for Rem?” You asked her politely. 

She shook her head “He cancels study sessions at least once every couple of weeks,” she told you “Originally, only Lily held the sessions by herself but she got very stressed without him to help her with the younger students, so they decided it was best to cancel them altogether.” Remus cancelled them? You thought, that’s odd. “What about you? Are you looking for a book in particular?” 

You shook your head “Just something to entertain me while I hang out with Lily.” 

“Oh, I think I can help you with that,” she said with a smile, bringing her backpack in front of her and opening the zipper “I actually got my hands on this book out last week, I read it in days, it’s about a werewolf who falls in love with a wizard.” she explained “It’s not very accurate with the actual nature of werewolves, but the key points are there. It’s a very fun romantic novel If you’re into that kind of stuff.” She said taking a book out of her bag and placing it on the table. “Oh and this one,” she grabbed a smaller book “It’s filled with simple yet practical spells that we don’t have in the curriculum, such as ways to fix glasses and open locks. It’s fantastic if you want something a bit more educational.” 

You looked at her with a smile “These are fantastic Nina, thank you!” You said with genuine excitement.

She smiled at you, blushing just a little at your reaction “It’s nothing. I’m– I really like books,” she told you with a smile “If you ever need new recommendations, I’m down.” 

You smiled at her “You’re the best!” You told her picking the books up from where she left them “It was lovely seeing you.” 

She nodded, and was about to say something when Lily showed up, looking for you “I’ve got the books, ready to go?” She asked, and then noticed you weren’t alone “Oh, hey Nina! What’s up?” 

“She lent me a couple of books,” you said, raising the books you held in between your arms so Lily would notice.

Lily nodded “Oh, Nina is really good at picking out books, trust me.” Lily said, “Mind if I take (Y/N) with me now?” 

Nina shook her head “We were just doing some small talk.” She said, with a bit of a blush as both you and Lily waved your goodbyes. 

As you walked outside the library Lily gave you a look “So… you’re friends with Nina now?” 

You shrugged “She’s pretty nice actually. I don’t know when it happened, but she stopped hating me over Remus, and now she’s really kind, she even recommended books!” 

“You probably just charmed her with your personality and looks, like you did with pretty much everyone,” Lily teased with a smile. 

“Oi, shut up Evans, you’re probably more charming than I am,” you said nudging her in a friendly manner. She nudged you back and the two of you walked together towards the common room, chatting about your due assignments, and your favourite books. Since Lily was a muggle-born, she knew even more about muggle books than you, and it was fun hearing about all of them, from her favourites to those she didn’t like all that much.

Once you arrived at the common room you both found a comfortable place, she sat on the small round table by the stairs and you went straight for one of the couches, letting yourself comfortably lay on it while opening your backpack to pick one of the books Nina had recommended, you grabbed each on one hand, staring at the covers, trying to decide which one to go for first. After weighing both of them in your head, you decided to read the spell book and leave the romance novel on the side table. 

Nina hadn’t been lying, the book was indeed practical, and you tried casting some of the most complicated or useful spells as you read, practicing the wand movements and incantations as Lily focused on her homework.

At some point Mary and Marlene went in, they were giggling about something that happened so you decided to leave your book next to the others and join their conversation. 

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! You won’t believe what happened.” Mary said. 

You smiled “Oh, do tell” 

“We were talking to Moaning Myrtle, she said she overheard Holden talk about Marlene with some other boys, that she was an incredible beater and stuff.” 

“Really?” You said smiling wider “I mean, no doubt, she’s amazing!  But he said that?”

Mary nodded “According to Myrtle, that is… She also said some boys have been saying you’re part Veela because of your charm, be careful they may try and throw you into the water to see if you’re a good swimmer.” 

You laughed at that, you were a good swimmer, but they couldn’t have been more off with their guesses. “So… what are you waiting for Mars? You have to make your move!” 

“Make my move?” She gasped. 

You nodded “Well, at the party you seemed pretty close, admit you like him or–”

“–Kiss him unexpectedly,” completed Mary. 

“Yeah, that too.” You nodded.

“Well…” Marlene said taking a deep breath “I’m thinking I could– I wanted to invite him to Hogsmeade over the weekend, actually.” 

“That’s brilliant!” You told her “Isn’t that tomorrow?”

She nodded in response “You coming too? I heard Sirius and James mention they wanted to show you around.” 

“They haven’t told me anything about it, but I guess I’ll tag along with ya’ll anyway.”

At that point Lily stood up from her place and stretched, yawning softly “What time is it?”  

“10:30,” answered Marlene after looking at her wrist watch “You done?”

She nodded “But we have to stay up for at least an hour,” Lily complained.

“Why?” Mary asked. 

“We’re going to harvest some fluxweed,” you responded instead. 

“Oh… because it’s full moon,” Marlene acknowledged. 

You nodded “When are you getting yours?” 

“Marlene ordered them from a fancy potion supply store.” 

“That was allowed?” you asked, surprised.

Marlene shrugged “Not sure, but I highly doubt Slughorn will find out, if anything, we can say we picked them out with you.”

“Sure,” Lily said, sitting down on the sofa next to you, placing your feet on top offer lap to make some space. You made a move to bring your feet down but she shook her head “It’s alright, rest up, you’ve been awake since like 5 am, haven’t you?” You nodded, letting your feet on to lay over her lap “You should just tell James to screw off and sleep in, I can tell you’re not a morning person.” 

You laughed “I wish, but I want to be in top shape for the game and… to be honest, I’m still getting used to my new broom, that’s why I’ve been flying every morning.” Out of nowhere, a pillow was thrown towards your face “Oi, what was that for?” You asked looking at Marlene, who’d been responsible for it. 

“Show off,” she said “I need time to practice with my new broom,” she teased “and then she goes and flies like a professional every single damn time.” You opened your mouth to try to speak but closed it soon after, Marlene continued talking “James has been making the training even tougher so we keep up with her.” 

“Sorry,” you said then “I guess I just really like flying.” After all, it’s in my blood, you thought. You wondered if you’d ever trust them enough to tell them about it, the answer was pretty simple, you already did, and you wanted to, but you knew how dangerous it was.

You stayed talking with the girls for a while, Marlene told you about the time she got on the quidditch team, Lily talked about being exceptionally good at potions and being invited to an exclusive party with Slughorn and Mary told you about the private classes she had been taking with Madam Pomfrey, about all the new potions and spells she had learned. 

“It’s finally 11,” said Lily when Mars finished the story about the worst date she had gone on, she’d been invited to a magical restaurant, that had been jinxed by an angry customer the previous day, it had been absolute mayhem. 

You stood up, stretching yourself “We should probably get going,” you said with a smile. She nodded and picked her backpack up, taking out a piece of paper and handing it over. You looked at her puzzled.

“It’s a nigh pass, I asked McGonagall for it,” she told you “We can go out and Filnch won’t say a thing.” 

“Oh nice,” you said looking at the paper, boy, how easy would it be to make duplicates of it, with different dates. “Shall we?” You asked tilting your head towards the door. She nodded and the two of you walked towards the portrait of the fat lady. 

“Good luck girls!” You heard Marlene shout from behind.

“Yeah, we’ll be back in the bedroom.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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Raead more Marauders Fiction

[violetpixiedust]

thinking about being the object of gator’s desires, and knowing it. gator travels solo to minnesota to stake out nadine for roy, and ends up in the city well past the family’s bedtime. he’s dressed low key for once. tight black tee, black leather jacket, black jeans, black combat boots. however, he does have his sheriff grade handgun hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket, on the account of having been trained to never put trust in the people around him.

gator mimics a fly on the wall as he crosses state lines. no bullet proof vest, no camo pants, no thigh holster, no large white lettering indicating “sheriff” across his shoulder blades and right pec. he wasn’t that man in minnesota. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be that man at all sometimes..

he’s stalking the streets in his shiny black truck, scoping out the places the family would inevitably roam tomorrow. wayne’s dealership, scottie’s elementary school, the local grocery store nadine would shop at. the wheels below him grind against the salt ridden roads before he comes to a rolling stop, noticing the first parking spot large enough for his vehicle for miles. peering around, gator realizes he’s made it to downtown. a loud laugh turns his attention towards the opposite side of the street, watching as three boys shuffle out of a dimly lit bar. rosy cheeked from boos rather than the nipping wind, accompanied by the fluffy snowflakes currently falling from the night sky.

gator takes a breath, watching it leave him from the sudden temperature drop. he gets in quite easily, flashing his license to the nonchalant bouncer out front, and again begrudgingly to the hipster looking man behind a small podium. he’s quickly given a seat at the end of the bar, past the long counter and at the end of the curve, secluded and away from rambunctious laughter and awkward first dates. the establishment is narrow, deep, modern, and unlike anything he had ever seen in fargo, let alone north dakota. people of all different races, ethnicities, and appearances, bounced off the walls as they spoke and fraternized, beers and cocktails in their grasps. until he saw you..

you’re sitting in the middle of the bar, dressed in a shiny ivory slip with a lace bodice, complete with spaghetti straps that reveal the serenity of your complexion. the hem of the garment rides up the bare length of your thighs from how you’re sat on the stool, causing gator to pick at the skin of his thumb unconsciously. your matching translucent stockings inch below your knees, disappearing into a pair of glimmering, scarlet leather boots. the cherry red and warm amber lighting from above shines down onto you like a halo. roy would say it was a sign that the devil resides within you, but gator could already tell by the way you idly rub a maraschino cherry to your pillowy lips, painting them rouge as your date drowns on about something or other. he watches intently as one of two bartenders’ interrupts the one sided conversation, and gator feels his pulse race as the brightest smile takes refuge on your now sweet expression. gator half consciously orders a whisky on the rocks, eager to keep observing you.

he hasn’t seen you in years, not since high school graduation. sat on folding chairs in the middle of a scorching fargo field, dressed head to toe in table cloth quality gowns. he remembers you better than anyone. a+ student, cheerleader, sweetheart to seemingly everyone around you, but you had a wickedness about you. he had heard it from his teammates. your lips tasted like cheap vodka and cherry cola. your pussy- your doe eyed gaze squints, slicing through gator as he all but flinches, half nodding his head to the bartender in thanks before downing his whisky on the rocks in two sips. it goes down easier than the bitter recognition on your angelic features, burning down his throat like acid.

it isn’t until his second whisky arrives that the space beside him is occupied. he knows it’s you without even turning his head, recognizing your scent, hazy with familiarity. it’s just as it had been when he would pass you on the football field, flipping your cheer skirt up like an asshole much to your chagrin. your hair would flip, a pom pom held up as threateningly as you could. you smell like lily’s of the valley, sunshine. clean and serene.

“bit far from home, huh deputy?” your voice, your fucking voice. saccharine and divine, dripping with sticky honey and stained scarlet. a light shiver runs down gator’s spine, skin prickling. he doesn’t look at you. another sip.

“still’ witty as ever. even as a city girl.”

“i see you still haven’t worked on your staring problem.” that turns gator’s attention to you in record speed, eager to tell you off, maybe even scare you off, but instead the poison immediately dries upon on his chapped lips. you’re gorgeous. somehow even prettier than you had been back in high school, in fargo. he hadn’t been able to see the pink cosmetic layered against your cheekbones and the tip of your nose from where you were previously sat. or the gloss on your plump, petal soft lips. you flutter your long lashes, something you used to do for every boy on the football team except him, all-state quarter back. he was the one to watch out for. he was the best. he was a winner, and you never- “and you’re still using an entire bottle of gel on your hair every morning too, hm?” your tone was playful, but he could garner the subtext. you were making fun of him. teasing him. returning the favour after he wouldn’t give you a moments peace in high school. constantly toying with your pretty little outfits. tugging on your hair as he sat behind you in every class you shared- threatening violence against anyone who sat in his unassigned assigned seat. cornering you against a row of lockers in the hopes that he would wear you down. that you would finally say yes to him. let him take you out.

god, were you a right bitch.

“don’t speak cosmopolitan, princess.” gator’s large brown eyes flicker to the sugary pool of red at the bottom of your cocktail glass, lips curled in a mocking sneer. he watches as your eyes wander across his ensemble, wicked smile growing with every passing second.

“it’s funny. that you think you’re considered such a big man back in fargo-“

“don’t-“ gator hisses after a stinging gulp of whisky. you don’t listen. you never did. women like you were the type his father frequently reprimanded throughout gator’s childhood. never knew when to quit. never knew when to shut up and listen. never knew when to obey.

your manicured nails swirl absentmindedly along the bar as you continue, conjuring white hot fire within the gaps of his fragile mind. “all-state quarterback, dream shattered when he suffered a ‘career ending injury’. thinks he’s a big man because his daddy pays him to play cops and robbers. to keep everyone on a tight leash until he gets reined back in like the feral little dog he is.” gator could feel his grip gradually tightening around his empty glass, rage beginning to seep through his veins like ink to paper. only, your sticky lips touch the shell of his ear, and his brain goes static.

“because no one knows he’s the boy who would hide underneath the bleachers during cheer practice. cock in his grasp, hand trembling, slick with sweat and spit, like his very own pocket pussy.” gator releases a shaky gasp, eyes glazing over as your manicured nails run over the back of his skull, fuzzy grown out strands tickling your fingertips. your voice is only a hair louder than the thrum of the bass emitting from the corner of the space, just enough to get through to gator’s brain. past the blood rushing through his ears and down to his pelvis. “you were so naughty. such a little pervert.” gator can feel how hard he is, numb in the toes as you scratch the blushing skin at the back of his neck, saliva just managing to quench the sahara desert at the back of his throat. “i still remember your eyes. hooded, lustful, gone in broad daylight. you didn’t even care if anyone saw you getting yourself off to me..”

it wasn’t as if anyone was looking at them now. it was a friday night, and they were in low lighting as it was, however gator’s eyes snapped open. in a millisecond, your arm is enveloped by his large grasp, tight with an iron grip as he looks down the pointed bridge of his nose at you. you’re admittedly surprised, a sliver of intimidation even coursing through you. however, a serge of smugness peaks upon your soft expression at the shaky waver in gator’s speech. “you tell anyone that, and i’ll make sure you don’t see the light of day ever again, sugar.”

gator couldn’t help but let his gaze falter downwards as you innocently bite along the plush skin of your bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering so close to his face that he could feel the breeze against his cheekbones. “last i checked.. your daddy isn’t the sheriff of minnesota.” gator swallows back a groan at that word leaving your lips. itching for his vape before tightening his grip on your angelic figure, pulling you impossibly closer. the cool skin of his leather jacket bites into your sleeveless arms, causing goosebumps to erupt beneath the thin fabric of your dress.

“i’ll see to it myself that you get taken care of.” you were so close that you could smell the bitter whisky on his breath, unfortunately not enough to overpower the foul stench of watermelon vape juice, but nevertheless, it reminds you of a time easier than this. he was still roy tillman’s son back then. still causing a shit storm wherever he went, cleaned up by the sheriff himself before any real damage could be done. when everyone went away however, you included, he was left to his own devices. you think that’s when he convinced himself that he was a good liar. that he was a winner. “and believe me, darling. you need to be taught a lesson or two.”

you can’t help the sinister desire that courses through you, gator’s dark eye contact never wavering. your judgement is clouded, limits bending. except, the sugary saliva of your mouth only continues to pool onto your pink tongue- before landing across gator’s cheek when you spit. taunting him.

you’re over his knee in the backseat of his truck in 45 seconds flat.

[chaggie4ever]

What future conflicts do you see happening with Chaggie? Personally, I think it would continue with their whole "Charlie doesn't listen and Vaggie doesn't express herself" issues they had in S1. Plus, the whole trusting Alastor thing might come up. Your predictions?

Absolutely great thoughts! Predictions and talking about HH is the only reason I made a Tumblr account XD

I personally really want Lute to have a role. Charlie seems to hate her even more than Vaggie after the angel reveal. And I think Vaggie will totally be here for this rivalry XD she may have to keep Charlie from killing Lute! A role for Emily in Lute’s possible redemption would be a great addition as they model Chaggie perfectly. Or maybe even Adam’s redemption (I’m convinced he’s coming back as a sinner - his vocals and lines are too great he has to come back). I remain convinced that Vaggie and Lute were frenemies and/or lovers for centuries.

The Alastor stuff is definitely important and will cause conflict for sure. I’m thinking Lilith is involved too (both her and Alastor have been gone for seven years…). I could see Vox getting involved and publicizing Vaggie’s genocidal past and Charlie comforting her.

alas i got sidetracked. Back to Chaggie! I really hope they address their codependency, and Charlie's tendency to steamroll Vaggie… she needs to actually listen to her girlfriend and notice when she is uncomfortable and will need to learn to push a bit more when Vaggie is uncomfortable to make her express herself. Vaggie is one of a few main characters who we have NOT seen cry. She REALLY needs to XD maybe Rosie can be a couple's therapist?

also now that season 3 and 4 are confirmed, im betting on a Chaggie engagement season 2. And if they dont have some down time to have an on screen date or fooling around time imma blow up the studio (no not really). I love that they are established and not the centerpoint of the season - this helps normalize gay relationships. But I also have needs XD maybe Charlie had to wait for Lucifer to come back in her life before she could officially get engaged as queen of hell. Future queens of hell 🥰 this will also likely not go over well in heaven or hell after Vaggie’s exorcist past…

Also… thank goodness Vivi isn’t in charge of writing anymore as she has Satan kill Vaggie after they are engaged and I will kill everyone if this happens

Bonus headcanons (some are stolen):

- Vaggie’s wings come out when she’s aroused - stiffly XD I think they will transition from gray to silver over time as she redeems herself further

- Vaggie and Lute stand trial for crimes by the seraphim. Vaggie is absolved of her disobedience and halo and eye restored (or maybe a weird glowy version so she still keeps her eye patch most of the time). She never wears the halo but it lets her open portals to heaven and hell. Lute is cast out of heaven for killing a member of Lucifer’s family (Dazzle) and attacking them and her vigilante justice on Vaggie. She may lose her wings and an eye too. She will still have one arm as she does not love anyone to restore it (Vaggie’s wings grow back out of love for Charlie and because they weren’t cut off by angelic steel. Lute ripped her arm off and it can also grow back.. if she learns to love).

- Vaggie hides her wings 90% of the time because she’s ashamed of her past (I’d LOVE a B plot episode where Angel Dust helps her with this)

- Charlie is super embarrassed when she demons out when Vaggie teases her publicly (always subtle until Charlie ruins it)

- Vaggie and Nifty bond over shared violence

- They go on flying dates where Vaggie carries Charlie and she loves it. Sometimes Lucifer joins.

- Charlie has picked up stabby Vaggie on several occasions and walked away with her to avoid conflict

- Vaggie’s spear is an emotional support spear and she talks to it and Charlie is jealous and has tried to hide it

- Vaggie spends Sunday dinners with Carmella and her daughters and is basically adopted and Charlie is jealous but also really happy that Vaggie is making her own friends

- Charlie loves when Vaggie speaks Spanish in bed - I also love the theories that they keep ruining beds with Charlie’s horns XD

- EVERYONE has heard them having sex - Charlie is LOUD and sometimes sings + Vaggie avoids Angel Dust the week after particularly loud sessions

- Charlie will propose after a very awkward convo with Lucifer

- Vaggie eventually bonds with sinner Adam and maybe Lute too

- I have an aversion to pregnancy and children but some of the kid theories are cute and Vaggie seems to be the more feminine but I could actually see Charlie carrying 😉😇

Ok imma stop now before this turns into a whole fan fiction XD

[katyobsesses]

~ WIP Wednesday ~

I'm completely obsessed with my current WIP, a Modern Bridgerton AU! I'm roughly planning to have a story for each Bridgerton sibling, with some of them intertwining. I'm currently writing a rough outline of each story, vaguely following the show (and sometimes incorporating book stuff that might fit) but making it, obviously, modern. So Saphne are going to be a Fake Dating story (I'm thinking actors in a PR relationship) Kanthony are Enimies to Lovers (maybe rival Lawyers? I'm not too sure yet) and Polin are obviously Friends to Lovers! And it is part of the Polin Story (as yet untitled) that I'll be sharing today, because I started re-writing the Carriage Scene and couldn't stop (though I have yet to write the actual smut) and I am incredibly proud of what I have so far

Modern Bridgerton AU - Untitled Polin Story - "Carriage" scene

“Pen, wait!” Colin called as Penelope ran up the staircase, her curls flying behind her and the skirt of her dress fluttering around her legs.

“Not now, Colin,” She responded, slowing slightly as she got to the landing, stopping and taking a heaving breath that turned into a sob she quickly swallowed back.

“Penelope,” Colin whispered, slowly walking up the stairs towards her.

“I don't want to talk, Colin,” She said, her back still to him, and he watched as she straightened, taking a deep stuttering breath and slowly letting it loose. Her sniffles filled the hall, mingling with the distant thump of bass coming from one of her neighbours, but otherwise it was silent as Pen composed herself before turning to him.

She was beautiful, as she always had been, as he'd long taken for granted. Even with reddened eyes and messy mascara, fallen curls and flushed skin, she looked like a work of art. He was sure Benedict would be able to name exactly which, or, rather, he wouldn't, because Penelope was one of a kind.

“Please,” he said imploringly, nodding to the door of her flat, “Let me in?”

She regarded him, looking down from the landing above The overhead light made a halo around her head, [blah blah blah poetry about her standing tall in front of him, him having to look up at her beauty blah blah blah]

She nodded - the mask of composure falling away, letting him see the exhaustion and sad acceptance she was feeling - and turned to open the door. He took the last few steps two at a time, and followed her into the flat. He closed the door behind himself, toeing off his dress shoes and watching as she sighed, her hands running through her hair and snagging on bobby pins. She let out a sound of frustration before grabbing a claw clip from the table by the door and expertly twisting her hair up and away from her face. She leant down to undo the clasp on her shoes, and fumbled, letting out another sound of frustration that caught on a sob.

“Let me,” Colin said, voice soft in the quiet, and gestured to the bench in the hallway. She sat down heavily, and he crouched in front of her, unbuckling the clasp at one ankle, and then another.

“Why did you follow me home?” Penelope asked, as he gently took the first heel from her foot.

“You… you looked distressed, as you left the luncheon,” He answered.

“So you decided to follow me?”

Colin placed the second heel next to the first, neatly, before sitting back on his ankles. He chewed on his lip, before looking up at Penelope.

“What happened, between you and Deb?” He asked.

A silence stretched.

“Its odd,” Penelope said, swallowing around emotion, “When I asked for your help finding a boyfriend, I didn't think it would end with them breaking up with me, because of you.”

Colin blinked.

“Because he seems to think you have feelings for me,” She let out a disbelieving laugh, closing her eyes and bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

Colin's breath caught in his throat, and when he opened his mouth to respond - to say something, anything - the words he'd practiced again and again got caught along with it.

“Which is so ridiculous all I can do is laugh,” Penelope voice caught on the last word, the disbelieving laughter of before turning wet, “Now will you please just leave me to wallow alone?”

“I can't,” Colin breathed, his lungs aching with the effort of finally talking.

“Please!” Penelope practically begged, and Colin's nerves snapped.

“I can't,” He insisted, “Because…”

All of the speeches he'd written - in journals, on his notes app, in his mind - burst into his mind [change to something else] and he stumbled through the plethora of words. He looked down at the small flowers that adorned Penelope's dress, composing himself and his words, before looking back up. He met her eyes, bright with both unshed tears and…

Hope.

His resolve strengthened, and the words that tumbled over each other in his mind became clear.

“What if I did have feelings for you?” He said, the words a question but the answer clear. Or so he hoped.

“What?” The disbelief in Penelope's voice pierced his heart, denting and almost breaking it.

He sorted though the words, settling on the best to convey his feelings, before kneeling up, leaning closer to Penelope and taking her hands in his.

“I have spent so long,” He began, eyes locked on hers, “Trying to feel less, trying to be more like my brothers, and for a moment I thought I had succeeded,” He looked down, the intensity of Penelope's gaze making his heart thump in his chest, drowning out the music that floated through the walls from Penelope's neighbour.

“But the last few months,” He continued, watching his hands curl with Penelope's against the floral backdrop of her skirt, “Have been filled with feeling. Feelings like the total inability to stop thinking about…”

He looked up at her again, blue eyes meeting blue.

“You.”

The confession came out in a breathy whisper, and Colin watched Penelope’s eyes alight with hope once again, before shuttering. A wall separating her heart from his words, as if afraid they would end up breaking it. He never wanted to break her heart, quite the opposite in fact. He wanted to hold it gently next to his, to nurture it and show her that she did not have to settle for someone like Debling - someone who planned to leave her behind, someone who planned to gallivant around the world without her on his arm.

“About that kiss,” He continued, shaking his head with a soft laugh, “A kiss that I have been dreaming about every night since it happened. For months I have felt disappointment upon waking, I’ve started to prefer sleep, because in my dreams I am with you. In my dreams we are together,” His words had started to quicken, and he sensed a ramble incoming.

He wanted to tell her about every single dream he could remember - Dreams of the two of them on a beach in Greece, the sun shining off of her hair and painting freckles across her nose and over her shoulders. Dreams of her dressed in elaborate dresses as they danced at elaborate balls straight out of period dramas and fairy tales. Dreams of the two of them lounging on his sofa, his apartment now adorned with artwork he knew hung in her bedroom, a throw he had watched her crochet wrapped around their shoulders, as they watched Daphne and Simon act on screen. Dreams of her laid out against his sheets…

He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes against the visions of her, before opening them again and gazing at the real thing.

“They’re damn near torturous,” He told her, sincerity lacing his words, “They way they have given me so much hope, before the disappointment of reality sets in. But it is a feeling that I cannot, will not, do not want to give up.”

“Please,” Penelope shook her head, closing her eyes, “Don't say things you don't mean.”

He squeezed her hands, eyes mapping her face as he waited for hers to re-open. The thumping bass from next door got louder, the pace of it matching the quickness of his heartbeat.

Finally her eyes opened again, and met his.

“But I do mean it,” He told her, simply but with feeling. He smiled up at her, softening his gaze, “Its everything I've been wanting to say to you for… months.”

“But Colin,” She said, eyes darting over his face, “We’re friends.”

“Yeah but we…” he trailed off, brow furrowing as he took in her serious expression. He open and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get his words back into some semblance of order. But they were scattered to the wind once again.

“Right, of course, I'm sorry,” He looked away from Penelope, beginning to untangle his hand from hers, “I don't know what I was thinking! Pretend I didn't sa-”

“-But I’d very much like to be more than friends,” She interrupted him.

Colin's head snapped up, his sharp intake of breath catching in his throat. Penelope's eyes sparkled with mirth, her lips quirked in a smirk that turned into a soft smile as the muffled music swelled to a peak.

“So much more,” she continued, and Colin surged forward as the bass dropped.

He captured Penelope's lips with his.

[devildomditzy]

You know how it goes.

The same old same old.

You attempt to get something done for once,

and he ruins it by attempting to insert himself as the constant center of your attention.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way, now would you?

Your attempt to study for your upcoming cursed speechcraft class was impressive, commendable even. But of course, you weren’t getting anything done, not if he had anything to say about it.

You’ve reread the same sentence at least twelve times now, trying to drown out the loud, cheesy love song blaring from outside your bedroom window. But of course, your efforts were futile.

You made eye contact with him, but how could you not! The poor boy stood out on the lawn under your bedroom window, practically on his tippy toes, holding a large, heavy boombox over his head. Sure, demonic strength was a thing, but that sure looks heavy!

Where’d he even get that?

Whatever.

No time to think about that. You were NOT going to let him distract you this time. Not after he had spent the whole day trying to convince you to ‘stop being such a damn nerd’.

But of course, your steadfast nature lined with the good intentions of not failing this course went through one ear and out the other.

You were going to ignore him? Fine.

Try to ignore Celine Dion on full blast.

You watch in annoyance as he turns the volume knob up to max, making the face of a man hellbent on distracting his human exchange student.

Now it was a game of patience, who would crack first? Him giving up this charade, or you finally caving into just what it is he wants?

Or Lucifer telling him to turn that thing off before he pops his head like a grape.

It’s anyone’s guess.

Don’t let him get to you.

Just turn to the next page.

Wait, what is he doing?

He’s set the boombox down, and he’s walking out of sight.

Maybe he’s giving up?

Of course not.

There’s a second boombox.

For Diavolo’s sake.

You pick up your D.D.D, opening your messages with him.

——————————————————————————

MC: Mammon.

Mammon: Pretty cool, huh? Found em on a sick deal too. Ya know I’d be happy to share one with ya, only if ya came down here though.

MC: I don’t want a boombox, I want to study.

MC: Where’d you get those anyway?

Mammon: Not important

MC: 🙃

Mammon: What IS important is that ya stop being’ such a rotten human and come down here to hang out with me.

MC: Mams, I already told you I’d hang out with you after I’m done studying! I can’t afford to fail this class, Lucifer will kill me! You’re welcome to come study with me as long as you’re actually studying.

Mammon: So you’re not coming down?

MC: No!

Mammon: Fine. Hope you like Beyoncé.

——————————————————————————

You groan in irritation and throw your D.D.D. onto your bed as his music somehow gets even louder.

You’re glad he forgets he can fly sometimes because if he was at your literal window you’d pop him like a grape yourself.

You put your head in your hands and look outside, just to see him lip syncing the first chorus of ‘Halo’ at you.

Its okay. Deep breath. Just block him out.

Eyes back on the page.

“The first step to recognizing when someone is attempting to use curse speechcraft on you is…”

Okay what the fuck.

What the hell is he doing.

Annnddd he’s taking his shirt off, okay.

Cool.

You make eye contact with him for a split second, and he makes that smirk you wish you could wipe off his face right now.

You rip your eyes away from your boyfriend’s impromptu strip tease as your D.D.D. buzzes from it’s spot on your bed, and you’re surprised to see the name flashing on the screen does not match the source of your frustrations.

——————————————————————————

Lucifer: MC.

MC: Yes?

Lucifer: Do you have any part in the absolute horror show that is taking place on the front lawn?

MC: Please make him stop.

Lucifer: l will return him to you in one piece.

——————————————————————————-

You look out the window just the time to see your panicked boyfriend attempting to run away with a stereo in each hand, his shirt and jacket thrown over his shoulder.

You’ll cut him down from the rafters eventually, but only after you’re sure he won’t be effecting your grades.

Annnd maybe after you’re done teasing him for a bit.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 74)

TW:GORE! (It's a dream but still)

Dreams were always a toss up for Uzi.

Sometimes she had what she had been calling ‘instinct dreams' where she didn't have the ability to talk and was hunting outside somewhere, or flying, N and Tera were usually there too, though V, Thad, and Lizzy had also started to make appearances.

Other times… the dreams were less pleasant, more disturbing then anything.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days;

She woke up face pressed against something squishy, her body was damp, covered in a thin veneer of some clear sticky liquid. She grumbled and sat up, trying to clear the substance from her pale skin.

…skin?

She gasped and looked down at herself, gone was the body made of hard silicone and metal, she felt her face, a nose, eyes and soft mouth greeted her five fingered hand. She was wearing her normal clothing only with a skirt covering her very human legs, she felt where her core should be, and felt the beat of an entirely human heart.

She had piercings in her ears, two studs and a small gauge in each, there was a reflective surface next to her, so she looked, the first time in forever she was able to look in mirror without it shattering. Her eyes were still a vibrant violet.

“W-what the-? Her voice sounded the same, but words felt weird in her strangely fleshy mouth. She looked down.

The floor was a irritated, fleshy red, squirming and pulsing as if it was alive, her face shifted into horror, the scene shifting around her.

A mineshaft, it's light flickering and frame rotting away.

A rusted out car.

Green trees and crunching leaves, N's voice saying something she couldn't quite hear, he sounded so far away…

Then with a thud she landed somewhere else, the air was damp… it was raining.

There was screaming.

Her eyes opened, she was hiding behind a building, breath coming out in panicked pants, the sky was an angry red sand slimy black tendrils crawled up walls and across the ground like overgrown weeds.

There was a sound on the other side of the building, a great metallic thud that had her jump and the fear inside her grow exponentially. She heard the sound of servos whining, motors whirring, foot plating beating heavily off the ground.

A drone.

Uzi didn't understand why she was scared, drones weren't scary, she was a drone, just not in this weird out-of-body dream. She looked up again.

It was still raining, the drops fell onto her face and slid down her cheek, she held out a hand and let the drops hit them.

…rain wasn't typically red.

The heavy metal of the drones footsteps grew ever closer, she held her breath and pressed herself as far against the wall as humanly possible, hoping to not be seen.

Then it came around the corner, white plating covered by a thick grey coat, hazard paint lining the cuffs of it's hands, both of which were long metal claws that were stained with blood, a halo of lights around the top of it's head, and a pilots cap.

N.

She wasn't scared of N. But for some reason her body began to shake with pure, unadulterated fear. Tears streamed down her face as N walked past her, his entire front stained in red, and his visor displayed a great big ‘X'.

At first, it seemed like she wasn't noticed, N walking past and looking down another alleyway, but she could only hold her breath for so long, so she inhaled a gulp of air into her straining lungs.

And N's head snapped back unnaturally to look at her, a feral smile etched on his face as he laughed, high and cold and sent ice cold dread up her spine.

N was upon her in seconds, learing over her squishy body hungerly, drooling as he maw opened slightly, one of his clawed hands trapping her underneath him.

And that's when she gained the ability to speak.

“N… it's me, it's Uzi, please…” Her voice sounded so broken, so scared. If anything N's smile grew wider, more unhinged. Something told her that while that's what she said, it's not what he heard.

His tail snaked up around her, holding her in place as she tried to to escape, it was tight, too tight. Not the gentle squeeze she'd grown accustomed to from him. All the air left her lungs.

Another psychopathic laugh escaped his voice box, before he suddenly lurched forward and buried his teeth into the side of her neck, ripping a scream from her throat and sending her blood splattering against the wall and his mouth.

His claws began to dig into her hip, creating long gashes as he continued to bite down, she could feel the pressure increasing, the blood flowing into his awaiting maw and spilling out onto the asphalt.

Her breathing became shallow, she desperately scratched his back, trying to pull him off but her human fingers couldn't even make a dent, until that too slowed and stopped.

“N…” was the last thing that left her mouth before she felt her body go slack.

That's when she jolted awake, gripping her core tightly as she kicked off the sheets, her breathing panicked and labored as the world around her righted itself.

She glanced around, she was home, tucked in bed after another bout of exhaustion had hit her. Tera was asleep on N's side of the bed, curled up on his pillow like a sleeping kitten.

She sighed, laying back down and tangling her fingers in her hair.

That had been strangly vivid. She could still feel the phantom pain on her neck where dream N had torn into her, her hip throbbed like it had been sliced open and her head was pounding, making her close her eyes again.

She'd had dreams of N and V chasing her down and killing her before, though they had stopped long ago at this point. But she'd never been a human before, that was new. She wondered what it could possibly mean.

“Uzi? Are you awake hon?” N's voice called put to her, making her jump in fear before she made herself calm down. N would never hurt her, it was just a dream.

“Y-yeah!” She called back, rubbing her ey-visor to try and clear away the memories of the dream.

“We uh… need to talk.” N popped his head in through the door, a deeply worried look on his face, whatever he'd found out there, she knew it wasn't good.

Next ->

[solar-wing]

⚣ BatBro Incorrect Quotes: Spongebob 🧽

⚣🧽 A/N → Here we continue our saga with BatBro and his family of incorrectness. Enjoy! and be wary of flying ice cream trucks.

⚣🧽 Summary → BatBro discovers his father and siblings extracurricular activities. As you can imagine, chaos ensues.

⚣ ENJOY 🧽

*ranting to Alfred unaware about his family's alter-egos*

BatBro (Y/N): Dressing up in costumes to risk your lives all night, what a stupid idea! Who wants to get shot at at three in the morning?!

*randomly hears an alarm*

Tim: *from upstairs* Oh boy, 3am!

*BatBro meeting Batman's sidekicks*

BatBro: Who are you?

Dick: Why, I'm Robin. *Jason and Tim appear behind Dick smiling*

BatBro: *eye squint* What kind of fool do you take me for?

BatBro: He's Robin (points at Jason)?

BatBro: He's Robin (Points at Tim)?

BatBro: You're Robin (Points at Dick)?!

BatBro: I'M ROBIN! Are there any other Robins I should know about? *tapping foot*

Damian: *Dressed as Robin* Hello.

BatBro: I'm outta here.

*BatBro trying to convince Jason to not kill anymore*

BatBro: No Jason, I meant...good for your soul.

*halo, angelic singing, heavenly light*

Jason: Oh PUHlease, I have no soul.

*hellish background, evil cackling*

Jason: 😳

Bruce: It's so simple, only ten words! What I learned about fighting criminals is... BLANKITY (WE) BLANKITY (DON'T) BLANK (KILL)!

*BatBro training as a new vigilante after he confronted Bruce about Tim's timely alarm*

Bruce: Well, now that we got you warmed up, it's time for the arm cruncher...

BatBro: Arm cruncher...great.

*Sees Damian coming towards him*

BatBro: This man's trying to kill me...

Bruce: This is it... *looks to see he's suddenly holding a phone*

BatBro: Hey, that's great dad! Oh, I sure had fun, we'll have to do it again sometime, bye. *hangs up*

*Watches Jason lose another sparring session to Dick*

BatBro: Wa Wa Waaaaaaa...

Jason: WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT?!

*pissed he wasn't included after discovering his family's alter-egos*

BatBro: Oh, you poor poor thing. By the way, you forgot your BRIEFCASE! *pulls out a bin of Bruce's bat weapons and tools*

*drops on floor*

Bruce: Oh...so this is the thanks I get for working overtime protecting you?

BatBro: *seething* OVERTIME!

*BatBro and Jason trying to crack open Bruce's lockbox*

BatBro: Nothing's working!

Jason: Wait, Y/N! We're not cavemen. We have technology.

*repeatedly smashes computer against lockbox*

BatBro: It didn't work.

*BatBro falling*

Tim: Y/N! Land on your bottom. It'll cushion the fall!

BatBro: *turns over* Like this?!

Jason: No! Your other bottom!

Tim: Don't you have to be stupid somewhere else?

Jason: Not until 4.

*BatBro done with Damian's shit*

BatBro: Uh huh. You know, that reminds me. There's been something I've been wanting to say to you since the day we met...goodbye. *turns and walks away*

*angry Damian tackles his brother to the floor*

BONUS:

☀️️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[wastemee]

she walks over me .

abusive!fem user + leon k.

CONTENT WARNING ! abuse , fem reader , reader is terrible (surprise) , re2 Leon k. , dub con

Leon is a goddamn idiot for still being with you. You're terrible , just in general. He wishes all of his friends and family could see past your white teeth and big smile when you're both together, to pull back the layers of your skin and see that you're the spawn of Satan himself. Sometimes he prays to whatever God is up there , and hopes you'll fuck up and he'll be saved. But God never answers his desperate pleas and broken cries. His family has always had a bad feeling about you , from the moment you stepped into their home for the first time to introduce yourself.

"She's too nice," his foster mother would say when she pulled him to the side as you put away dishes. "I have a bad feeling about her." his foster daddy would whisper to his mother under his hot breath. And God, they couldn't have been more right. Whatever they said about women's intuition , was 100% true. Maybe 105%.

Leon has always been way too naive for his own good , thats why you came along! He swears that you came straight out of heaven , wings and halo as you sweep him up into your clutches. Until everything went downhill. You never really know someone until they get into hot water. They jump out.

He doesn't even remember what he did or said , all he can remember is that familiar sting of both failure and actual pain on his cheek. You hit him. Like , actually just used your hand to hurt him. He blinks at you with his big , wide blue eyes , lips parted in horror. He wish he could've been a bigger man and stepped up to you , but he shrunk under your judgemental gaze. He was in this whole funky mood until you finally apologized to him , which took a whole lot of begging and crying.

He hated when you were upset with him , and he hated your cold shoulder even more. It made him feel like he was getting hit by a semi truck. Except the semi truck would probably hurt less. What he did love though , was seeing your expression soften and your hand fall. "Aww , babe," you would coo to him , slowly holding out your arms to hug him in a sickenly sweet way. He would flinch , even if you were being 'nice' to him. But you being nice was really just you barely tolerating him. And just like a moth to a bright light on a porch , he fell straight into your arms like a limp body , straight into what is slowly killing him.

He gripped you like you were going to dissolve into thin air if he let you go , shaking his head and crying to you all over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he would sob , voice cracking and his doe eyes red with ugly tears. Just like clockwork , you would make up some bullshit excuse in some way to excuse your horrible behavior. "You know I had a bad day," was a frequent one. Or , "I just didn't get enough sleep." Holy shit , that was a doozy. "It's not you , baby , it's me." Now that , was a low blow. He believed it every time.

He's become numb now , almost. Numb to the painful sting of your backhand , or the painful kick to his stomach when he's already down , and the way his heart rate spikes when you send a pan flying towards his head because he slipped up.

He doesn't know why he's so attracted to you. Is it because his actual mom was killed and he desperately needs some affection from a woman before he withers out and dies?

You're both attending a small little party his parents are hosting , and just like you've beat him into , he's all smiles and laughs.

"So," his mother starts off , smiling at you over the rim of her wine. "How's your job?" She asks you , raising a thin eyebrow at you and wiping her smeared lipstick off of her cup with a napkin. You smile with all of your teeth , squeezing Leon's hand behind his back. "Amazing , Laura. I just got a promotion , more money coming in." You respond with an equally enthusiastic tone. Laura nods in acknowledgement , swirling around the wine in her cup.

What a damn diva , your inner voice mutters.

Leon is just staring at both of his 'parents' , his smile faltering as he spaces out of the conversation. It's a talent , really. The way he can remove himself , whether it be when you're screaming at him, or the more calm moments like this one.

He's brought back down to earth by your harsh squeeze on his hand , your smile falling for a second as you tug harshly on his arm. "Leon." His name doesn't even sound like his own whenever you say it. Sometimes he feels like he's watching his life go on in third person , like you killed the old him and stuffed a part of you inside of his body , creating some new fucked up Leon Scott Kennedy. He blinks in shock , he's still here. Here with you. "Huh?" He mutters , inhaling sharply at the squeeze of his hand.

"Your mother's talking to you , don't be rude." You scold lightly. There it goes , that little mother in you. Once again , he feels small. Like a little boy being scolded by mommy for breaking a vase. He winces at your tone and he notices how his mother furrows her neat brows , thin lips parted in some confusion.

"He hasn't been feeling well , lately.." You sigh , lips jutted out into a slight pout as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your lips burn on his skin , like a punch. He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah , life's been.. y'know , life." He chuckles awkwardly , gulping down the water in his cheap cup. Damn geek.

"Ah.." Laura nods her head skeptically , humming to herself and abruptly standing up. "Well , I'm off to get more wine." She quickly dismisses herself and walks away in her expensive heels , clicking against the concrete on the porch. It's just you , Leon , and his father who isn't paying you much mind , more focused on his pride and joy. "So , when will I get some grandkids , Leon?" He asks in his gruff voice , laughing and patting him on the shoulder. God , Leon hates that topic.

He can't imagine having kids with you out of all woman. He'd stick his dick into a homeless lady and have kids with her , before he created life with you. Whenever someone brings it up, he starts thinking. How would they look? Would they have your sharp features and same anger issues? Would they be just like you? Would they be worse? He stays up at night and spirals about it.

But , he doesn't show that. He just laughs it off and shakes his head. "Ah , I don't know about that.." He says , glancing over to see your reaction. You don't seem too annoyed by his response. Plus , you could say the same. You don't want little brats that look like Leon whining all the time. That'll be twice the yelling , you'll lose your voice eventually.

He seems bummed by Leon's dejected response, shaking his head and chugging his beer down. Pig.

"Come on. You've got to give me something. It can't end with you , as much as I love ya." He sighs , leaning back in his lawn chair.

You chuckle in response , sighing softly. "You're funny. Maybe soon , just not now," you butt in quickly before Leon can get a word in.

And once again, he feels like his mouth is instantly glued shut the moment you butt in for him. He can never seem to win. He just keeps glancing at his watch , counting down until you leave.

It's dead silent in your shared apartment as you unlock the front door, fumbling with your keys. Leon's standing behind you like a lost puppy , watching as you fumble with the keys.

Once you both get inside, he sighs and drops his shoes and jacket onto the ground , rubbing at his temples. "You made me look stupid." You suddenly chime , all that fake bullshit now gone. He blinks. What did he do? He didn't think he did anything wrong. "What?" He responds after gulping down the lump in his tight throat.

"Don't what me. You made me look fucking stupid."

He winces at your harsh tone and looks down at his hands , fidgeting with his fingers awkwardly. "That zoning out , you think it's cute? You looked like a weirdo. And don't get my started on the whole spill thing." He frowns at the reminder. He had accidentally startled you , made you spill your juice all over his mom. Yikes! That look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"And you didn't bother to clean it up," you add on after a moment of silence. An irritated chuckle leaves your lips , shaking your head. "What even is that? Seriously. Be a gentleman instead of being a damn pussy all the time , it's pathetic." Honestly , sometimes he forgets he's a guy. He just feels like a girl when you talk down on him , be so assertive. Maybe it's that masculinity deep down. Whatever it is , he better flush it.

He doesn't know what comes next besides that signature smack to his once soft skin , stinging red. He stumbles back a little , a small 'oof' leaving his bruised lips. "Do you think this is funny , think you're better than me?" It's a rhetorical question , obviously. But he can't help but scramble to defend himself. "N-No , I-" Another slap , this time to the other cheek. "Shut up , it didn't need an answer." You scoff , rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest.

His lip quivers and he blinks back his tears. Boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Yeah, whatever. Except he isn't a little boy. He's a man , at least he thinks so.

Everything else is a blur. A blur full of yelling, kicking , punches , and cursing. Hjs mouth tastes of his own blood and he swears you've knocked some teeth loose , bruises already forming on his porcelain skin. Like a little doll.

Here you go with the fake apology , pout on your face and an even faker script already typed up in your head like an automated message. "You know I didn't mean it." You mutter to him in bed , staring him in his half-lidded now blacked eyes. Hey , at least you gave him a bandaid. Makes him less ugly to look at. All he can mumble is, "I know."

You smile at him , tooth rotting smile. "I only do it because I love you. You'd be a mess without me , huh?" Once again , rhetorical. But you're right. He would be a mess , a nobody. But at the same time , maybe he would actually be able to fulfill his dreams without you chaining him down.

You rest your chin on his bare chest , and he winces. His ribs still hurt and ache from all the kicks to his torso , beat red , black , and blue.

Your touch starts out innocent , and he slowly starts to drift off to sleep in hopes he'll wake up from this nightmare he's living. Until he feels your hand creeping down into his pajama pants, fingernails ghosting over him. His eyes flutter open in surprise , blinking in shock. He's way too tired for this , but he would never tell you that.

You can tell he doesn't want to do this with you , based off of his pitiful expression and frown. A light scoff leaves your lips. "Whats your problem?" You asks , raising an eyebrow at him. "Nothing." He quickly answers , shaking his head.

"You don't want to do this with me."

He furrows his brow and sits up a bit , only to be shoved down again by your hand. "Dont you like me? Aren't you my boyfriend, you're always too tired." You guilt trip him , and just like always , its effective. He bites his lip in thought , before sighing and nodding slowly. A defeated , "Okay."

Leon lies there, motionless, as you pull down his pants. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the cracks in the paint rather than what's happening to his body. He feels disconnected, like he's floating above the bed watching this scene play out. Your touches, which once brought him pleasure, now feel invasive and wrong. But he knows better than to resist or voice his discomfort , after all, all that training wasn't for nothing.

He feels your hand slowly wrap around his semi , whispering to him in his ear and coming out of the other. His muscles tighten and a soft groan leaves past his lips at the sudden touch. God , he hasn't done this with you in forever. Mostly because he's always tired and beaten.

He feels dirty for letting himself fall for you all over again , despite his lack of interest in this whole thing. His half lidded eyes squeeze shut. He likes to pretend that its not you touching him like this. Likes to pretend that it's somebody else , anybody else. Hell, even his mom would do. Is that sick?

He curses at himself for letting his pretty top leak pre-cum , leaking down his leg and onto your hand. "Wow , look at that," you chuckle , hand stroking his cock as you scrutinize his facial expression and body language. "Its been so long.. I'm surprised it works still." You teases. He doesn't laugh or respond. He just cringes at it.

He doesn't know what he wants. He wants you to stop , push you away and run for the hills. He wants you to keep going , tell him he's only yours and that nobody could make him cum as hard as you do. He's split.

All that's on his mind is getting this over with so you can both roll over and forget about each other until morning. All he wants.

His cock twitches at the feeling of your hand pleasuring him , thumb running over the tip and squeezing him. He gasps , a mix between a whine and a moan slipping out of his mouth. God. Nothing gets you off more than knowing he has no control. Its a power trip , really..

He glances over at your face , cooing to him. And he almost forgets about the way you treat him. Almost. It all comes flooding back , and he groans. His stomach churns and he feels like he's about to vomit.

Is he starting to like it , like you? Is he starting to get used to the way you beat him like a punching bag and use him like a toy? He's sure he's slowly developing Stockholm for you , because whenever he looks into your eyes , suddenly he doesn't want to leave anymore. He wants to stay dumb. Stay stupid and let you abuse him.

He doesn't give much a warning when his back arches and he grips onto the sheets , choked moan echoing throughout your shared bedroom. He feels disgusting. Cumming at the thought of you hurting him, he feels like a whore. Maybe that's all he is.

You don't do much aftercare, ever. He knows that. But a part of him can't help but wonder if its ever gonna be different. It won't be.

And that's the part he loves the most. He loves not having to worry about change , change makes him anxious sometimes.

And as long as he stays with you , he'll never feel that way again.

[watcheraurora]

Princesses and Family

Finally had an idea for a continuation of "The Ranchers unintentionally adopted a kid" AU 3.1k words

(Part 1)(Part 2)

—

Tango paused on his way up the path to the front door of the ranch house, scrunching his brows. "Uh... hi Gem," he greeted loudly.

Gem waved from the balcony of his and Jimmy's bedroom above the covered front porch. "Hi Tango!" she greeted.

"What are you doing here? Not that it's not good to see you. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Oh I came to show Jimmy a new way to braid Skye's hair for flying," Gem said, showing off the single braid wrapping around her head like a crown or halo.

"I see. So why are you on the balcony alone, then?" Tango's pointy ear flicked almost in sync with Gem's pointy ear as a breeze made the wheat field roll with waves like the sea.

Gem glanced through the small window into the master bedroom. "Oh I'm the princess," she said with a perky, bright smile. "Skye is rescuing me from the dragon."

"The dragon?"

At that moment, Jimmy cried out from inside the house. Tango bolted inside, dropping the bag of supplies he'd brought back from town on the front path and throwing the door open with magic before he even reached it.

Jimmy was sprawled on the kitchen floor, his enormous yellow wings taking up most of the floorspace and his hair flopped back, one arm draped over part of his wing. His knees were bent with his feet on the floor. There was a wooden sword caught between his arm and his side.

Skye was standing beside his knees in an old leather armor chestplate that was waaay too big on her, and dyed purple. One hand raised triumphantly and wings spread wide. There was a small yellow feather tucked into the plait of the white braid ringing her head just over her ear.

Both of their eyes turned, wide, to Tango at the sound of the door flying open.

"Oh hi Tango," Jimmy greeted first, lifting his head a bit.

"Gem said something about a dragon," Tango said.

"It's Jimmy's turn to be the dragon! And then he gets to be the knight, and I get to be the princess, and Gem gets to be the dragon!" Skye explained, a little out of breath but beaming. She leaned forward, holding a hand up to her mouth so Jimmy "couldn't hear" what she was going to say. "I think Gem likes being the dragon the best."

"She's certainly got the fierceness for it," Tango agreed. He set a hand on his heart. It was racing. "I thought you were being attacked. I heard Jimmy shout."

Jimmy smiled. "I'm nothing if not committed to my role. Including the death scenes. If I was actually hurt, you'd feel it."

Right. The SoulBond. Tango forgot about it sometimes.

"I like being the princess because Gem and Jimmy actually swordfight," Skye said matter-of-factly. "But I think Gem goes easy on him because he's not actually very good."

Jimmy's jaw dropped open, playfully offended. Tango tried not to snicker. Truthfully, they both were abysmal in combat.

"I think your princess is waiting on her knight to rescue her," Jimmy said softly to Skye.

Who gasped. She whirled and ran toward the stairs, rushing up them.

Jimmy chuckled and got to his feet, folding his wings in and dusting them off.

"Having fun while I was gone?" Tango asked, smirking.

"We, er... kinda got carried away," Jimmy said, ruffling and fluffing his feathers to reorder them after lying on the floor. "Gem and Skye were talking while I braided Skye's hair and it turned into playing Knight-Princess-Dragon."

Tango chuckled. "Glad you had fun." He went outside and retrieved the supplies he'd left on the path, bringing them inside. Skye was "escorting" a very-hunched-over Gem down the stairs. "Hey ladies," Tango said.

"Hi," Gem replied.

"Sir Tango, you need to refer to the princess as Your Highness," Skye corrected, smiling.

Tango flung his arms out and bowed deeply. "Sincerest apologies, Knight Skye."

"No, no, no," Skye said, her wings puffing up as she pulled off the leather chestplate. "I rescued Gem, so now I'm Princess Skye." She beamed when Jimmy chuckled. She pulled his yellow feather out of her braid behind her ear and tucked it into the plait at the top of her head like the point of a tiara.

"Ohhh. My sincerest apologies, Princess Skye," Tango said. He took the supplies into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the counter, beginning to unpack them.

Gem snatched Skye around the waist with a playful, "Gotcha!" and ran up the stairs.

Skye squealed and laughed. "Jimmy help! I'm being kidnapped by a dragon!" she screamed.

"I'll save you, Your Highness!" Jimmy called, picking up the wooden sword Skye had "stabbed" him with and running for the stairs. But Gem came thundering down them with a dramatic roar, her Elytra now equipped and fluttering with her movements. She picked up another wooden sword and together they ran for the front door while Tango watched. Once they were out on the path through the wheat field, they started swordfighting, the wooden blades clacking together. They left the front door open, and Tango could hear Skye cheering on, well, Gem. Even though she was probably supposed to be cheering on Knight Jimmy.

Tango laughed and went back to unpacking. Once everything was put away, he went outside and leaned against one of the support pillars for the porch to watch, folding his arms and grinning.

To Jimmy's credit, he was better with a sword than Tango was.

Tango quirked a finger, tugging on one of Gem's curly plaits with a little magic.

"What the—?!"

Tango did the same to the little bit of hair on the back of Jimmy's head that always stuck straight up from the whorl of his hair.

"Eh?!"

Amusement flooded down their SoulBond from Tango, who was trying not to snicker.

"Tango! Stop messin'!" Jimmy protested.

"What?!" Gem demanded. "Tango! No cheating!"

"There's no cheating here!" Tango retorted. "I mess equally."

Gem shot him a glare over her shoulder and briefly the phrase If looks could kill passed through Tango's mind. Tango briefly gestured for her to turn around. She did in time to block Jimmy's swing, not even really looking.

Yeah. She was good with a sword. Something Tango had noticed was that she never really went for critical hit points. She just relentlessly pursued her trajectory, never giving an opponent the opportunity to fight back, until she won.

Which was better than what Tango could do.

He couldn't see Skye. The balcony was built into the porch roof. But he could hear her wings flapping as she cheered on Gem and called for Sir Jimmy to save her in equal measure. Tango smiled.

He hadn't wanted kids, when he and Jimmy committed to one another after discovering their SoulBond. He had never seen himself as much of a caretaker. He'd lose his own head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders—how could he expect to take good care of a child if he could barely take care of himself?

But that changed when Jimmy rescued Skye. She had slotted into their life like she was always meant to be there. Neither Jimmy nor Tango could imagine not taking care of her. They weren't perfect, but their best was usually enough. She was happier now, healthy, and learning to fly. She was moving past the grief of losing her parents and the trauma of being kept in a cage at a pillager outpost. She filled their lives with sunshine and they loved her as their own.

Jimmy eventually drove Gem into the path in front of the house, pretending to slay the dragon. Then ran inside to go rescue Skye, who squealed in excitement while Tango and Gem chuckled outside.

Tango liked his life. But he liked it even more with this little family in it.

—

"So I ran into Cleo in the market today," Tango said, winding some of Jimmy's hair around his fingers while they laid in bed.

"Yeah? How are they?"

"Good. We chatted for a bit. I mentioned that we've taken in an orphaned Avian girl. And that she's about six. And..." Tango bit his lower lip and hesitated.

Jimmy's eyes opened, meeting Tango's gaze. "And?" he prompted.

"Cleo offered to teach her. You know Cleo used to be a schoolteacher, right? Before the whole... zombie thing?"

"I think I knew that?"

"And there's really no other education around here. There aren't really any other children. I told Cleo that I'd talk to you about it, but that was probably a good idea."

"So... what? We take Skye to Cleo's every day?"

"It's better than her just sitting inside every day once harvest is over," Tango said. "When winter hits, she'll be really bored. But we can fly with her to and from, drop her off at Cleo's for at least a couple hours. Even if it's just one or two to start with. She does need to learn. I don't... can she even read?"

"A little," Jimmy said. "She reads labels at the market when I take her. But she could stand to learn more. And she'll be better at maths than me in about two weeks."

Tango tried not to laugh too loud. "That's not true."

"No. No it is. I'm so bad at maths. I ran into Cub at the market one time talking to Scar and they were doing some sort of calculation about groceries and I felt nauseated just listenin' to them." Jimmy was definitely exaggerating for the sake of effect, and Tango snickered.

"If you say so."

"So are we going to tell Cleo 'yes'?"

Tango yawned, covering his mouth to hide his sharp teeth, and nodded. "I think so. I think, ultimately, it would be good for Skye."

"I agree," Jimmy said. Tango went back to playing gently with Jimmy's hair. Jimmy's eyes fluttered closed again. He nuzzled a little into Tango's hand. Tango smiled and kissed his nose. Jimmy giggled softly. "Goodnight, Tango."

"G'night, Jimmy."

Jimmy was asleep within minutes.

Tango tried to follow Jimmy's sleep pattern. He really did. But, as an Avian, Jimmy really embodied the Early Bird concept. Tango just... didn't. He liked the darkness. His mind seemed to work better in the late hours of the night. He'd rather go to bed deep into the night and wake up late in the morning. Usually, Jimmy let him.

And recently, in the last six months, Jimmy always took care of Skye in the mornings while Tango kept sleeping. In the month-and-a-half since Skye's first flight, their routine had altered a little. Jimmy would slip out of bed and into Skye's room, gently wake her, and they'd go for a flight. She was nearly ready to fly on her own, and her wings were getting stronger. Then when they returned, they would have breakfast and get started on ranch chores. Skye didn't have to work out in the fields or with the animals all day. She would do an hour or two, then go inside and play.

And sometimes she'd already be at playtime by the time Tango woke up.

A bit after Jimmy finally fell asleep, Tango slipped out of bed. His Blaze Rods flared into being around his head and he used them to glide over to the door, down the hall, and down the stairs. He reached through the narrow gap between two double chests and pressed a button. Moved to its new location so Skye didn't accidentally press it.

Pistons retracted and revealed a staircase to the basement in the kitchen floor. Tango hurried down them and into his redstone workshop.

In Tango's opinion, redstone was not, inherently, dangerous. Handling the dust could be. If it floated up into the air. You didn't want to inhale it. But he didn't want Skye down here in case something fell and crushed her, more than anything. Hence he'd hidden the entrance.

He slipped a book and quill out of a chest and flipped it open to where he'd left the quill. People around town liked to request redstone devices. Tango liked making them, and it brought in a few extra diamonds on the side. He knew Etho and Impulse did the same, but the townsfolk knew Tango's particular type of redstone. He was the one asked for the whacky contraptions. The silly ones. Impulse and Etho could make the efficient, effective ones. Tango got to make toys a lot. And he loved it.

He got to work on a project request. It was nearly done, and he'd been fiddling with it for a week. He was eager to deliver it.

As he tinkered, his mind wandered a little. To Skye. Wearing Jimmy's feather in her hair. He had some of Jimmy's feathers himself. He usually kept the small one on a bracelet chain somewhere safe, only wearing it when it felt important that he display his commitment to Jimmy. He was too scared of burning it to ash otherwise. The other feathers of Jimmy's were scattered around his workshop as quills for writing. Sure they had a lot of chickens on the ranch, but why use those when Jimmy's feathers were so much sturdier and he shed them all about once a year? Most of them were properly disposed of, but Tango always kept a few—with Jimmy's permission—to turn into quills.

The fact that Jimmy had placed one of his shortest feathers—typically from near his spine—in her braid meant something. Tango wasn't overly familiar with Avian culture, but he knew enough to know that exchanging feathers was a big deal. Jimmy gave Tango a feather he'd plucked specifically for Tango the first time. As a sign of commitment and love. The one Tango had on a bracelet chain.

Jimmy gave Skye one of his feathers for her hair as a show of family.

Tango leaned back in his chair, taking a short break to stretch his spine. His Blaze Rods burned into existence, spinning around his head. One of them an inch shorter than the other ones. No one had ever noticed but Jimmy.

Tango had given Jimmy a small portion of that Blaze Rod as his own sign of commitment and love. Jimmy had it on a leather necklace cord. Tango had used magic to seal its fire deep within so it wouldn't burn anything—especially Jimmy.

He reached up and caught the shorter one, bringing it down in front of him. It hovered just over his hand, rotating slightly. The end that had been broken off was only slightly slanted, compared to the near-perfect perpendicular of the unbroken end. He hadn't cut it perfectly, but he'd shaved the jagged edge fairly well.

If he used all his Blaze Rods, he always spawned more. He just hadn't used many since he'd given that piece to Jimmy. And hadn't needed enough at once to use this one.

If he cut another inch off this one... it would start being noticeably shorter than the other whole ones around his head.

Was that really a bad thing?

He reached for his axe and went to the crafting table.

—

"Psst! Skye!" Tango whispered as he slowly opened her door, knocking gently with one knuckle. She shuffled in bed. "Psst!"

One eye peeled open, deep blue and dark in the light from Tango's hair. "Wh... wha's goin' on?" she asked, voice slurred with sleep. The weak light of dawn was peeking past the pink flower banners that had been added to her windows as curtains.

"I have a little present for you."

Her other eye opened. "A present?"

"Uh-huh."

She sat up in bed. "What is it?" She'd left her crown braid in, and the flyaways that had escaped it were a messy mad-scientist halo of white around her head.

Tango crept into her room. "You know how Jimmy gave you a feather for your hair?" He perched on the edge of her bed. She nodded. "Do you know what that means?"

"My mama used to put her feathers in my hair, and mine in hers when they fell out."

"That's right. For people with feathers, exchanging them is telling them you love them." He lifted his arm to show her Jimmy's yellow feather, preserved by magic to not get too brittle, dangling off a gold chain. "Jimmy gave me one because he loves me. And he gave you one because he loves you." He smoothed down some of her flyaways. "Have you noticed the necklace Jimmy wears?"

"The brown one with the little orange... yellow thing on it?"

"Yeah, princess." Tango's Blaze Rods reappeared, orbiting his head. "Like these." He looked up at them.

"You use those to fly." It wasn't a question. Skye had noticed that he only ever really displayed his Rods when he flew. He couldn't fly without them, and he didn't want to burn anything with them accidentally.

"That's right. I gave Jimmy a small piece of one of these to show him I love him." The shorter one stopped in front of his head. He flicked it so it spun, and then caught it to stop the spinning, bringing it down in front of him to show her.

"Why is that one so short?" Skye's eyes flicked to the other Blaze Rods, noting their lengths.

"Because I chopped a little bit off either end."

"Did it hurt?"

"No, sweetheart. They can't feel pain. Nothing about them can hurt me." Tango smiled and let the shorter one take its place back in alignment with the others bobbing as they rotated.

He pulled the leather out of the pocket of his jumpsuit. "This is for you. To show you I love you."

Skye took it carefully. "It's a necklace like Jimmy's!"

"Mmhmm. Because you're part of our family, so you get something from both of us to show it."

"I... I am?"

"Of course."

Skye smiled and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Tango."

"You're welcome kiddo."

—

"So... you stayed up all night," Jimmy said.

"Mmhmm," Tango said quietly, tiredly.

"And Skye has a necklace like mine."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm guessing you stayed up to make it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Jimmy kissed the side of Tango's head. "I'm glad. Go take a nap. I'll wake you up later."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

[vamphorica]

kinktober day xxiii: worship

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga)

Relationship: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl

Characters: Matt | Mail Jeevas, Mello | Mihael Keehl

Additional Tags: Worship, Church Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Religion Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Catholic Prayers, Kissing, Altar Sex, Top Mello | Mihael Keehl, Bottom Matt | Mail Jeevas, Canon Compliant

Series: Part 23 of Death Note Kinktober 2024 | @dnkinktober

Summary: When Mello goes missing again, Matt goes to church.

────────────────────────────

When Mello doesn’t return to the flat for several days, Matt drives down to the Catholic church about an hour away. It is said to be favoured by the Mafia, with the security it provides ensuring that it can remain open for twenty four hours every day. Matt is reassured at the very least that regardless of Mello’s proclivity to mania, his tendency to drink a little too fast and sometimes snort one too many lines of coke, that shit doesn’t fly in the house of God. By the time Matt collects him, Mello is usually cold hard sober.

He pulls up outside of the building, grinding his cigarette butt into the ashtray on his dash as he acknowledges the bright red neon cross glowing above the doorway. At three in the morning, it haloes in the dark, a stark reminder of God. Matt has inherited the Wammy’s atheistic outlook of the world, all that is unexplainable now presumed to be understandable at a later date. He envies Mello’s ability to remain in close proximity with the discomfort of ignorance. To believe that everything happens for a reason greater than himself. It is pleasantly naive. Matt gets out of the car and slams the door behind him.

“Mello here?” Matt asks the two mafiosos who guard the doors.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Friend of his.” Matt digs deep into his jean pockets and pulls out a purple chocolate wrapper. British imported chocolate was hardly uncommon if you knew where to find it, but no one was as picky about brand consistency as Mello and as the two men look at one another momentarily, Matt knows they have little to challenge him on.

“He arrived yesterday. He’s the only one in there right now.”

Matt gives a brief nod and walks into the foyer. Leaflets and posters neatly line the walls, declaring solutions to societal woes through God’s omnibenevolence. Matt considers whether Mello looks at this selection of material, decrying homosexuality as a sin and drug use as an abominable act, and feels himself to be lesser. Perhaps he seeks refuge in the exclusionary nature that organised religion encourages; a reminder of the House in its intolerance of anything deemed inadequate.

The church is rather underwhelming for one that is so obviously revered by the local crime syndicate. Large, stained glass windows dominate the walls, the darkness of the early morning muting their colours, the saints condemned to a fate of mundanity until the sun rises. The pews hide in the shadows cast towards the back of the chapel, dusty hymn books and bibles remain neglected. It is the altar which is afforded the blessing of light, a variety of candles carefully positioned to carve out an invitation to prayer at the foot of the platform, before a model crucifixion.

This is where Matt always finds Mello kneeling, with his head bowed in such a manner as to let his hair veil his face. His ungloved hands are clasped together before his chest, almost earnest. Slowly, Matt approaches him from behind listening for his hushed voice in the silence. He had interrupted Mello during prayer one too many times to know such a risk was never worth the blonde’s subsequent irritation. As Matt arrives close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder, Mello’s silence is unmistakable.

“Hey, time to go.”

Mello looks up at Matt, his eyes red as if he has been crying, or as if he’s high. There is still something hauntingly beautiful about him, even in this erratic state, and Matt feels an urge to run his fingers through his soft golden hair, before guiding him out of the church and back into the car. To make him promise that they’ll leave this city and forget about the Kira case to find another purpose in life. An ambition that doesn't rip him to shreds like this.

“Matt… My guardian angel.” Mello whispers, nearly too quiet for Matt to hear.

“You alright?” Matt asks in response – Mello was typically vexed by Matt by the time he would come to fetch him, as if his arrival broke some kind of fantasy of divine salvation he had erected in his head. Matt never expects the softer language or the affection to return for a few days as Mello confronts lingering hangovers and whatever religious revelations he endured during his periodic hysteria. Even then, such affections are small, quiet things whispered in the bedroom. Matt has never known Mello to speak to him in such a way in public.

Mello takes Matt’s hand as a means to pull himself up onto his feet, “I am now that you are here.” His breath smells like booze, and Matt wonders if the men on the door had been covering for him.

“Come on, man, we need to get you cleaned up.” Matt sighs. He never judges Mello, as often as Mello would take the opportunity to act morally offended by the redhead’s crack pipes and needles. However, there is something increasingly exasperating about how Matt so often chases Mello, as if it is a given that he will be there to take him home. Matt swallows his fear to enter those dark spaces Mello frequents to pull him out every time. Matt can never say Mello returns the favour.

Damn right, I am your guardian angel.

“No… Let’s stay.” Mello pulls Matt’s sleeve. It is a small gesture, but one that was reminiscent of something more. That silent pull of a sleeve in the dark. Two boys in a dormitory.

A kiss.

Matt feels Mello’s lips on his, soft and full. An apology, or at least an appeal to their relationship. A declaration of love in a sacred space. Matt takes Mello’s face in his hands and gently eases him away from his own.

“Here, Mels?”

“Where else can I worship you?” God, he really is fucked. Matt shook his head. Mello is bound to regret this. Matt opens his mouth to object but Mello cuts him off, “I thank God for you everyday, Matt.”

Matt blushes, despite himself. His frustration at this stupid bastard for scaring him so often aside, he cannot deny how his heart aches when hearing such a sentiment from Mello. Matt is not well acquainted with God, but there is something about the manner in which Mello’s devotion flows out of him, Matt can taste something close to a miracle on his lips.

Matt’s eyes dart to the entrance, to which Mello smirks, “They know not to come inside.”

Fuck it. Matt leans back in and the two press their bodies close as they fall into the deepness of the kiss. They stumble up onto the platform until Matt feels himself being pressed up against the altar table. He plants a hand behind him, in an attempt not to fall upon it.

Mello has other ideas. He disengages before shoving Matt onto the table so that he lies flat along the surface, his face contorting slightly on impact. Even Matt feels they are engaging in a rather overt expression of blasphemy here, but as Mello crawls on top of him, his hair hanging down and framing his face, Matt understands what is meant by omnibenevolence. Unconditional love is the best way Matt can describe how he feels about Mello.

“Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you have bestowed onto me.” Mello begins unbuckling his belt, and Matt swallows, his dick tight against his underwear in anticipation of what the blonde intends to do to him here. He finds his own hands peeling his jeans down beneath Mello as they both expose themselves hurriedly. Spiritual consequences be damned.

“You have provided me with more than I could imagine, more than I ever deserve, in Mail Jeevas.” Matt doesn’t know whether it is Mello pressing his erection against his own or the way in which he says his real name that sends a shockwave of sensitivity up his spine, causing him to moan quietly. His hands grab Mello’s hips as he spreads his legs, arching his back as a means to push himself closer to Mello’s body.

Mello spits on his palm and begins to rub his own cock, his other hand gently caressing Matt’s face, “Lord, I am a sinner, and yet you have extended your mercy and grace by bringing an angel into my life.” Matt closes his eyes and hums gently against Mello’s thumb stroking his cheek, smiling when the blonde plants a kiss there.

“We praise you and give you glory.” Mello moves his hand down to grab Matt’s thigh, and with his other hand, directs his dick against the rim of Matt’s ass, thrusting his hips so it goes in all at once. Matt gasps, his nails digging into Mello’s hips as he processes the sharp sting of being entered.

“Amen.”

[sephythespooky]

DCA secret skeletons

HAPPY HALLOWEEN @tyra-altavilla, i'm your secret skeleton <3

i'm mostly a writer and it was so scary to get a prompt that seemed drawing-centric but I did the best I could! I hope you like it <3

words under the cut

Sun was eagerly laying out boxes and felt, glue sticks and pipe cleaners, giggling eagerly. He’d already gotten into his chosen costume for this year (thank stars that management didn’t have time to assign one to him or any of the other daycare staff this year!)

His long lanky body was draped in a white robe tied with golden rope and a collar made of carefully chosen plastic gems in red, yellow, and blue.  He had a headband taped to his forehead so his rays could still move, with a tiny cardboard snake on the center, and clip on earrings of colors that matched his collar.

Moon yawned and slipped down on his fly wire, wearing a purple suit and a wig of brown yarn with a purple top hat, “Are we almost ready, Sunny?”

“We are!” he looked up and beamed, “Oh, your costume is so dapper! Who are you, Moony?”

“I’m Willy Wonka,” he grins and pulls a cane out of the dress up box, “and my candies are my moondrops, of course.”

“Oh that’s so clever! I love it!”

“And you’re a pharaoh, right?” he asked gesturing to Sun’s outfit.

“Yes yes yes! Ancient Egyptian outfits are so elegant and pretty!

“Um…” both turned to look at Eclipse, the middle ground between the two and voice of reason, came out of the bathrooms in his own costume, a sparkly wire halo over his head and soft white wings attached to his back around his loop. The long white fabric around him only fell to his ankles, but the look was obvious even if he was shyly shuffling and his rays were partially retracted.

“Clipsy!” Sun went over and hugged him, “You look so cute cute CUTE as an angel, and it’s so perfect for you!”

“Thank you,” Eclipse hummed and relaxed as he hugged Sun back, “I was scared it’d look silly.”

“Clipsy…” Moon cooed as he took over when Sun let go. “Why would you ever look silly to us?”

“W-well…after what happened before the refurbishment…” he fidgeted his hands behind moon’s back, “I didn’t know if…if I’d deserve this kind of costume.”

Both of the other animatronics felt their metaphorical hearts crack.

“If…anyone here,” Moon sighs softly as he lets go, “doesn’t deserve to be an angel, Clipsy, it’s me. You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t possibly have stopped anything or fixed it. You got Cassie out of our daycare and away from our chaos. You calmed the storm that virus had caused in my mind and Sun’s to an extent.”

“He’s right,” Sun’s own rays were deep in their slots with heartache, “I was so so so MEAN to the people just trying to do their jobs and sometimes it even bled to the kids and…Clipsy, between Moony and I, if anybody deserves that halo, it’s you.”

The three were very down for a few seconds, but a loud “fwump” and clatter of balls changed that pretty quickly.

Another set of rays, darker orange than any of the others, pops out of the balls, along with a dark red and black face, “happy happy halloween, siblings mine~”

The voice was slightly deeper than Sun’s ‘scary’ voice but bright and full of affection.

“Prominence!” Clipsy gasped and ran over to the ballpit, his bells jingling, “What’s your costume?”

“Your is lovely, yes yes, Clipsy. Mine is funny.” The spindly animatronic moved oddly, though being a suit controlled by the wires inside rather than a normal endo explained the fluidity. “Ta-da!”

Walking out of the balls, Prominence showed off his white jumpsuit with red stripe on the side, with matching helmet, “I’m Turbo-tastic, heeheehee. I figured, if I am an arcade glitch and HE was an arcade glitch sort of, then its appropriate, yes yes.”

His brother clapped for him and Sun giggled, “It seems most of us wore white without meaning to except for Moony.”

“I don’t mind standing out. I already do since you three have warm colors mostly and I’m all cool blues.” Moon leaned on his cane and smirked, “Besides, isn’t there a line about taking a sunrise and making a lemon pie in the song from the original Wonka movie or am I forgetting?”

“no that’s right,” Clipsy chuckled. “But it’s good to see we’re all happy with our costumes and nobody has to change or something.”

“Why would we have have to change?” Prominence asked curiously as he curled up on top of the playhouse.

“I thought,” Clipsy looked at Moon, “that someone might pick a costume that is too scary for the kids.”

“I have one like that,” Moon grinned, smug as a shark, “but that is saved for the haunt later tonight. Teens and adults are fair game for scaring, after all.”

“Ooooh, can I help you, please please, Moon?” Prominence’s eyes glittered as he plonked his helmet onto his head, retracting his rays, “I can be real spooky scary, yes yes, can try to copy the cybug version maybe? Borrow some arcade machines from DJ’s back room for it?”

“Might be a good idea, but we’ll have to ask Freddy. He has final say,” Moon nodded, happy one of his brothers wanted to scare on this happy holiday.

“I don’t know why you two like that. I do not not NOT like screams and running at all,” Sun groaned a bit, “It’s so grating on my gears.”

“I don’t like it for more the emotions behind it, but I do agree,” Clipsy murmured, “Still, if it makes everybody happy in the end, I don’t see the harm.”

“Understanding as always,” Moon hummed and used his fly wire to swim gracefully through the air, “Now, I believe we have a daycare to open!”

“Right you are!” Sun ran after him, with the other two on his heels. If there was one thing all of them agreed on, it was that they loved their jobs and playing with the kids was the best part of any day.

[hidden-shame-707]

Genuine Fear

(Reader insert/Homelander, no 'onscreen violence, mostly just creepy)

You never trusted supes.

A lot of people chalked it up to paranoia. 

They always seemed so incredibly uncanny to you.

Especially the members of The Seven. 

Like manicured, Vought branded monsters,

wearing too perfect human skin.

Apex predators in the shape of models. 

After all the news broke that they were just people that were experimented on as kids, your mind never changed.

There was something fundamentally terrifying about something that looked like a person that could bench press twelve tons, or survive the pressure of the Mariana trench.

Nothing good could have power like that.

It's like the old saying goes:

‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely.’

Sometimes you felt like maybe you were judging them unfairly.

After all, it's not like they chose to be experimented on, and sure, there were probably some of them that were genuinely good people, 

but lately on the news, more incidents of ‘hero involved casualties’ against civilians seemed to pile up due to their cruelty and general carelessness. 

You were so absorbed in these thoughts as you walked home late at night, that you almost didn't hear his boots hit the concrete behind you, carefully landing from the starless sky, causing you to quickly turn on your heels. 

And there he was. 

Red eyes shone in the dark like an omen of death.

“Little late to be out by yourself, isn't it,”

he asked playfully, standing tall and bringing his gloved hands behind his back. 

Your body recognized the voice before you could even fully see his face.

This had to be some sort of fucked up nightmare.

Why the fuck was he here? 

Standing in the dim light of the alleyway like some horrific angel, his image haloed by dingy street lights, he smiled at you. 

What he had hoped seemed like an innocuous gesture set off alarm bells in your head and chills down your spine. 

Homelander.

The terror you felt from watching him kill a random civilian on live television, or his very public ‘fall from grace’ during his birthday celebration was nothing like the utter horror you felt from being face to face with him. 

“I was just patrolling the area. There’s been a string of assaults over the last few nights. Probably not the best idea for you to be out on your own.”

He tried his best to sound friendly. 

This, of course, was a lie in two parts. 

Firstly, that he had been scouting and came upon you coincidentally. 

Secondly, there had been absolutely no violent crimes committed in this particular area.

He knew this without a doubt, because for the last three days he had been quietly stalking you, following you home and learning the route to your little run down apartment.

The first night that you had caught his eye, unbeknownst to you, he had dispatched a suspicious looking man with a knife that had been tailing you in the dark.

You were lucky that he had been watching. 

Since then, it had become sort of a habit to follow you.

Just to make sure you’d gotten home safely. 

In his own way, he was protecting you.

You should be grateful that he was such a merciful God. 

To be fair, if he said that outloud, your poor little heart would probably explode out of your chest.

He was used to the thrumming heartbeats of excited fans whenever he made his public appearances, but yours was like a panicked animal.

He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Why were you looking at him like that? He wasn't going to hurt you… 

“I-I’m just trying to get home,"

You explained anxiously, avoiding looking him in the unnaturally blue eyes.

You prayed to any god that could hear you that he would get bored with you and fly away.

Unfortunately, your prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

There was only one God listening, and he had no plans on leaving you so easily. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Your heart rate is one-twenty-five.”

It was said simply as a matter-of-fact.

He meant nothing by it other than it being a casual observation, but the statement caused you to break out in a cold sweat. 

He could sense your fear. 

“Relax,”

Homelander tried to smile reassuringly, his perfect white teeth shining with practiced authenticity.

“You know, most people would be pretty excited to meet me one-on-one,"

 he chuckled, doing his best to be as unthreatening as possible, 

trying to lighten the mood. 

If he was going to keep you from running, he was going to have to show you that he meant you no harm.

Not that you would be able to get away if you did run, but it did save him the trouble of playing a fruitless game of cat and mouse.

Well, fruitless for you. 

“Of-Of course I'm excited to meet you, sir,”

You fumbled.

‘Excited’ was not exactly the word you would have used to describe how you were currently feeling. 

‘Terrified’, maybe.

‘Bordering-on-the-edge-of-a-panic-attack’, would have been much more accurate. 

He cocked his head in slight annoyance. 

Your heart rate only increased in speed. 

Clearly being friendly wasn’t working. 

Perhaps if he poured on the charm, you would be more receptive? 

He took a tentative, sauntering step towards you, which you ineffectually countered by backing up against the grimy brick wall of the alley. 

 “It wouldn’t be very gentlemen-like of me to let you walk home on your own in the dark, now would it,”

he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“N-No, I’ll be fine, you don't need to do that,"

you stammered, shrinking away from him.

You’d rather take the risk of running into an armed attacker than be anywhere near a supe.

Especially Homelander. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on, I don't bite. Look, I’ll even fly you home,”

He gave a boyish smile that, if you weren't fearing for your life right now, would have made your heart do flips. 

You had to remind yourself that this man was barely human. 

He was a carefully manufactured simulation of mortal life given god-like powers, made by a soulless trillion dollar company, devoid of morals or common decency. 

“I-I’m not a fan of heights–" 

You tried to explain gently without outright saying ‘no’, but before you had finished your sentence, he was at your side, scooping you easily up into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Well then you better not look down,"

he smirked, shooting you a well practiced wink before taking a leap and catapulting you both skyward. 

Icy night air whipped past your face as your heart dropped into your stomach. The sudden increase of gravity constricted the air out of your lungs so you couldn't even scream. 

And then… 

Nothing. 

There was nothing but the sound of muffled traffic from far below and the cracking stuccato of his cape, like a flag in the wind.

Nothing but the feel of his steely muscles holding you tightly against his chest. 

A drop from this height would most certainly kill you.

For the briefest of moments, your terror-addled brain almost would have preferred a fall to the ground below to having to be this close to him.

You shuddered in fear,

to which he responded by holding you just a smidge tighter.

You couldn't tell if he did this because he thought you were cold and this was an attempt at chivalry (which, dear god, you could only speculate as to his ulterior motives), or it was a wordless threat that he wouldn’t let you go. 

Neither of those options were particularly comforting. 

You tried to put those thoughts out of your head as he flew over the city skyline, doing your best to avoid looking down. 

Every so often you caught him watching you from the corner of his eye.

Eventually you found the courage to watch him back, figuring it gave you something better to focus on other than how high off the ground you were. 

As scared as you were, you had to admit that he was handsome. 

What would have taken you a twenty minute walk, flying took all of five. 

He gently touched down right outside of your apartment.

“T-Thank you for taking me home, sir."

“Trust me. It’s my pleasure."

He said before giving a little wave and flying off into the night. 

It wasn't until you had gotten back into your apartment and locked the door that the realization hit you.

He had known where you lived.

That night you had nightmares of red glowing eyes peering through your window.