#sorry not sorry but i love this au so much. it has everything

[jubshead]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Paring: Soft!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Being a babysitter in college isn't the worst way to get some money, especially if it comes with its benefits.

A/N: So I have to say that this has been the first fanfiction I’ve written in years and when I used to write I was around 14, so it sucked.

My love was supposed to do a review for me but she is sick (take care baby) and I am way too anxious to wait for her to get better, so I hope you guys enjoy this as my guinea pigs lol.

Also english is not my first language!

Almost forgot to say that this is a modern day AU (based on the 3rd episode) where Agatha doesn’t have magic! I hope it isn’t too OOC, bc I do think Agatha has a softer side as a mother.

Warning: Smut.

Word count: 4.7k

As always comments and constructive criticism are extremely appreciated!

Tags: @harknspet @harknessshi 🙃

PART 2 | PART 3

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

You are startled awake by the shrill sound of your phone. Sleepy, you feel around your bedside table and accept the call without looking at the id. 

“Hello?” Your voice sounds raspy to your own ears and you hope whoever is on the other side can't tell you were awakened by their call.

“Oh hun! I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” An hesitant, stuffy voice sounds from the other side of the phone and you hear a sniff. 

“Uh, Mrs Harkness…” In your post-sleep state you are barely able to formulate a response. 

Trying to bring a little clarity to your thoughts by rubbing your eyes, you look at the clock at the bedside table and it indicates 10pm. It was an unusual occurrence for your boss to call you at this hour, she must have assumed you were awake studying for your finals. 

Today was the last day of your tests, after a shower you had slept immediately, exhaustion sipping into your bones and as a result your phone had remained on. 

“Is everything alright? Is Nickie okay?” Desperation catches in your voice when you realize there was only one reason for her to be calling at such an hour. 

“Yes, he’s alright, just a little fuzzy, I… really shouldn’t have called you at this hour.” A lump seems to form in her throat as she speaks. Straining your ears you can hear baby Nicholas crying in the back, your heart clenches for him and his mother. 

“Don’t worry, Mrs Harkness. I will be there in 15 minutes.” You say as you get up from bed and start putting yourself together. 

“Ok.” The fact that she accepts without pulling a fight was enough to make you concerned. 

“Thank you.” She ads as an afterthought and hangs up. 

Pulling out black bell bottom leggings, a thin tank top and a sweatshirt you hastily throw them on and quickly walk to your door, grabbing your keys and entering your car.

It was a 15 minute walk to their house, but at this hour you wouldn’t risk a stroll in the empty street. You’d arrive there in 5 minutes. 

In the car you keep anxiously drumming your fingers in the steering wheel and when you finally arrive, after what felt like an eternity, you are quick to park your car next to Mrs Harkness’ and step out. 

The mansion stretches out in front of you, the walkers on the street wouldn’t be able to tell that in this house only lived a woman and her child. 

Before you could ring the bell, the door snaps open, in front of your eyes appears a woman carrying her crying baby.

She looks beautiful and elegant as always, with her social gray pants, white turtleneck and light brown blazer. Her usual grandeur though, seemed tapped out by the redness around her eyes, the hairs out of place and the chewed out plump mouth. 

In her hip lay the clear sight of her distress, the crying infant was blowing out his lungs with his loud cries, the screams sounded hoarse and you assume it was because he had spent too much time in this state. His cheeks were stained with tears, but you couldn’t see the liquid roll out of his eyes. 

“Oh baby, come here.” You coo and stretch out your arms. 

Agatha with glazed eyes takes a step in your direction, pauses and hands you her son, you blame it all in her exhausted state. 

When you finally have the baby in your arms you give him a once over and the clench in your heart dissolves when you see that there’s nothing wrong with him. 

Bouncing Nickie in your arms, you turn to your boss and indicate the inside of the house with your head. She turns and you follow her inside. 

The state of the house is a clear indicator of the situation, multiple toys were thrown around the living room, you can see a number of milk bottles in the furniture and faintly hear a cartoon voice from the television. 

Turning to Agatha, you say.

“Mrs. Harkness, how about you get yourself a glass of wine and relax, I’ll put this one to sleep and come down to organize the living room.” 

She looks at the baby who seems already much calmer in your arms and nods. 

Climbing the stairs into the upper floor, you can only shush and coo at Nickie, he seems tired and as the time goes by his cries become only sniffles as he settles into your shoulder. 

“I know you are tired, darling.” Standing in the middle of the infant's room, you swing him softly and gently pat his back. 

Looking around the spacious room, you can’t help but to smile. This kid had everything someone his age needed and more, he was spoiled rotten by his mother.

When you see their relationship your heart clenches thinking about your own mother, you wish things were different with her, but you never got jealous of Nickie, he deserved everything he got. His father was an asshole enough. 

The baby’s arms start to drop and his eyelids flutter shut. You keep swinging him gently for a minute or so and settles him in his crib for the night. You watch him sleep for a while and smell the baby shampoo in his head before getting out of the room. You love this kid like it was your own. 

Going down the stairs your heart begins to beat faster, being in Agatha’s presence always made you nervous, especially when you two were alone.

When you re enter the living room she’s sitting on the sofa with the biggest glass of wine you’ve ever seen in her hand and that is saying a lot. 

“He’s asleep.” You tell her.

A deep breath leaves her and she relaxes onto the couch. Her feet are propped on the sofa beside her body. You bend down and start to pick up the scattered toys.

“You don’t have to do that, sweetheart.” She tells you softly and your heart does a flip at the nickname.

“I don’t mind.” You respond.

Silence befalls you two as you gather things around. You can feel her eyes on you while you’re bent over collecting the stuffed animals. When the silence becomes too much, you give in. 

“Are you feeling better, Mrs Harkness?” You turn in her direction to ask. 

“I feel like myself now.” She doesn’t elaborate, but you know exactly what she means. The state she was in wasn’t her usual composed self, but you suppose motherhood does that to you sometimes. “I really shouldn’t have called you at this hour, especially because I know you’re in your finals week.” 

“It’s alright. My tests ended today and I think I went pretty well.” You beam at her, proud of yourself. 

“Well, that’s a good girl.” She praises you and you have to turn around quickly so she doesn’t see your rapidly reddening cheeks.

“And as you know, I’m always happy to help you with Nicholas.” You mumble.

“And I thank you for that, hun. I wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t showed up today.” 

When you look back at her she gives you a tired smile and takes a sip of her wine. You give her a once over and she looks as breathtaking as always, but you can feel the exhaustion radiating off her, so as politely as you can, you offer. 

“Mrs. Harkness, if you want to you can go to sleep, I will stay here on the couch in case Nickie wakes up.” 

“Oh honey, no. I couldn’t ask you to spend the night here, you must be exhausted after this couple of weeks.” She answers you, shaking her head slightly. 

“I’m fine. I slept the whole afternoon and if I feel like sleeping I’ll just crash in one of the guests’ rooms.” It still sounded wild that someone had multiple guests’ rooms in their house.

She stares at you weighing her options and it seems exhaustion wins at the end. “Let me grab a pajama for you then.” She downs her wine and gets up from the couch. 

“Oh no, you really don’t have...” Your protest falls on deaf ears as she continues to walk up the stairs.

While waiting, you go looking for your purse. Searching inside, you grab your phone and look at some of the messages you received. 

A friend of yours asking if you wanted to grab a drink to commemorate the end of your finals, a boy from college you were certain had a crush on you and one of your professors asking about your well being now that the tests ended. 

You answer your friend with a sad emoji and tell her you can’t make it today, but would definitely like to grab that drink later. Ignoring the boy, you go straight for the message you’ve been wanting to respond to, with a loose smile you tell her you’re doing fine. 

“Good to know my favorite student didn’t fry her own brain.” The text read. 

“Can’t let that happen, you’d miss me too much.” You reply. 

“I doubt it.” Comes the response, making you let out a breathy laugh. 

She was hard to read sometimes, but if you took everything she said as a joke you’d probably be fine, at least that’s what you told your friends when they asked how you weren’t scared of Miss Vidal.

You tell her about staying at your boss’ house for the night and ask if she has any good ideas to pass the time. She knew about your babysitter gig and seemed to know Mrs. Harkness, but then again that wasn’t surprising, there were probably few people in the city who didn’t know who she was, if any. 

“Watch a movie. I can recommend you one, if you want.” She answers your question.

“Yeah, that will do. My computer is in the car.” You reply.

““Bound”, it’s about women doing crime and fucking men over.” She tells you. 

“Lol, that sounds fun.” You make your way to the door and towards your car. Your phone vibrates again.

“It is. Tell me what you think about it later. Good night, sweetheart.” You rapidly answer her and grab your computer, coming back inside. 

Closing the door behind you, you make your way to the couch, before sitting down you hear a voice behind you.

“Here it is.” 

You turn around and find Agatha wearing a small purple satin babydoll, covered slightly by the untied black robe made from the same material. Your face automatically becomes a heating inferno, you curse hell and above from the strong lights in the room and when she gives you a smirk, you know you’ve been caught. 

“Thank you.” You manage without stuttering. “I’m just going to change.” 

Grabbing the clothes she’s extending in your direction, you practically run to the bathroom and lock yourself. 

Laying your head against the wall you let out a breath and ask the heavens above for her to not be in the room when you come back. You quickly put them on and feel your cheeks heat up again when you see yourself in her clothes. This woman was going to be the death of you. 

The pajama consisted of a matching set of black satin tank top and shorts, accompanied as well by a rob, it was the same color as her babydoll. You rule it out as unintentional and shake your head from the inappropriate thoughts you were having. 

When you arrive back at the living room, Agatha is seated on the couch, in the same position she was before. 

When she sees you, you lock eyes. The intense stare makes you squirm and avoid her gaze, lightly rubbing your thighs together. When you look back at her face, you see her giving you a once over and wetting her lips. 

“Mrs. Harkness, it’s alright. You don’t have to babysit me, you can go to sleep.” You reply, hoping she won’t notice the effect she’s having on you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I trust you.” She replies with a wink and patting on the couch adds. “I’m just not in the mood to sleep, too much on my head.” 

Sitting by her side you say. “I was going to watch a movie my professor recommended. If you want to watch it with me…” 

“Sure, hun.” She answers with a smile.

Trying not to think about the arm over your head and your close proximity you quickly grab your computer and search for the film. 

“What is it about?” She asks while scooting closer and looking at the screen. 

“Apparently a woman is dating a guy from the mob and she and an ex-con, that’s also another woman, try to commit a crime and blame it on him. It’s called “Bound”, I haven't watched it.” When you look up into her face, you see her mouth form an O shape.

“Oh.” That’s her only answer.

“What? Is it bad? Have you watched it? We can watch something else if you’d like.” You quickly make numerous questions without waiting for her response. 

“No, no. It’s fine, I haven’t watched it.” She reassures you. You frown at her when you sense a lie, but seeing that there wouldn’t be a reason for her to do that, you just accept what she tells you. “Who did you say recommend it to you again?” 

Looking back at your computer, you answer her distractedly. “Miss Vidal, she’s one of my professors at college.” With your mind elsewhere, you miss the look that crosses her face and only hear her noncommittal hum. “Found it.” 

Getting up from the couch, you connect the computer onto the television and start the movie. 

It seemed pretty interesting from the start. The first scene in the elevator had beautiful color compositions and when the black haired woman got in you swooned, you had the biggest crush on Jennifer Tilly. 

On that same scene you started to realize that you should have taken a better look of what it was about before deciding to see it with your boss, the person you were always one loss of control away from kissing. 

It was fine, maybe it would be a movie about lesbians and the mob, without any explicit content… you really should have seen the rate. Fuck it, you doubted your college professor would recommend an explicit movie. 

You tried to believe the lies you told yourself, but in the back of your mind you knew Rio Vidal wasn’t the most morally correct woman. You were definitely screwed. 

As the minutes went by you started to relax back into the couch, but sooner than you expected the scenes shifted tones. The tension between the protagonists was undeniable and extremely charged. 

When the characters sat on the sofa, you started to acutely feel Agatha’s presence by your side. The arm laid on the couch behind your back, the warmth radiating from her and her uncovered thing touching yours. 

It was too much and it only got worse.

You briefly side-eye your boss and see that her whole concentration is on the scene as Jennifer’s character takes Corky’s hand and places it on her breast. 

Looking back at the scene you start to squirm and fidget, your underwear previously wet starts to get wetter and when you remember why you got aroused the first time it only becomes worse. You are watching a lesbian sex scene with your boss, who you have a crush on and is barely wearing any clothes. 

You thank the heavens when they are interrupted by the boyfriend on the screen. 

While your brain is working hard to figure out an excuse to change the movie, Agatha turns in your direction. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Hum…yes?” God, you prayed she wouldn’t call you out for moving around too much. 

“Nickie’s father signed the papers today.” You snap your head in her direction, forgetting everything about the movie and your ruined underwear. 

“Papers? What papers?” Your mind goes a mile per minute. You knew for a fact they had divorced a few weeks ago, so you couldn’t see what else was there to do, especially involving the baby.

“The papers that give me complete guardianship of him. From now on he can’t have a say in his life.” She spoke with a furrowed brown, behind her concerned eyes though you could see relief.

You couldn’t process the thought of abandoning your own child, especially one like Nickie, who was amazing and you held very dearly into your heart. 

“Why would he do that?” You ask what’s been plaguing your mind. 

“Because of me.” She breathes out. Her hand stretches in your hair’s direction, swiping your bangs to the side she looks you in the eyes while passing her fingers through the strands in your left temple. “Did I tell you why I divorced him?” You shake your head and she continues. “Well, I realized I’ve been lying to myself for a long time. I married Nickie’s father because he loved me, my mother liked him and because it was easier, until it wasn’t.” 

Your attention is completely on her words, you try piecing together the information she has given you and comes back with a blank. 

“You see, honey. I’ve never been attracted to men.” She amends and continues to play with your hair. You try not to tense up at her words and the gesture. “I’ve been in denial for a long time, but it became worse recently, someone who works for me has caught my eye and I wondered how it would feel to have my way with her, corrupt her.” 

From the partial light the TV is giving you, you can see her pupils blown wide, a hungry look adorning her face and your breath gets caught in your throat when she slides her fingers through your cheek. 

“I couldn't help myself anymore, but I couldn’t do this to you while I was with him, not you.” Her face inches itself closer to yours.

You stare into her plump lips and while she approaches you your eyes begin to flutter shut. She lightly brushes her lips over yours and you hear a sound, faintly registering it came from you. She pauses and waits, as if asking for permission. You clash your lips onto hers. 

Your hands automatically go into her hair and hold her close. Your entire body goes into panic mode and you find yourself locked in place. She pulls away and lets a breathy laugh fall from her lips at your wide eyed face. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” She emphasizes the sentiment by running her thumb over your lower lip.

Forcing your body to calm down and take a breath, you mumble close to her mouth. “Mrs. Harkness...” 

“Call me Agatha, hun.” She interrupts you with a smirk.

“Agatha…yes, okay.” You look at her trying, and probably failing, to express all the information that is going through your head.

She lets out a chuckle at you again and brings you closer for another kiss. This time you let her guide you and set the pace, her big white nails run through your cheek all the way down to your neck and when she asks for permission with her tongue, you let her in without a fight. 

Relaxing into the back of the couch, you let her have complete control over the kiss. Her tongue slides along yours searching for a rhythm and when you finally set it, it feels like every fiber of your being will burst. She tastes like mint and desire.  

Her nails keep exploring until they find the back of your neck, they run through it and you let out a moan, your body shivers. The sound seems to cause a chain reaction and when you realize you’re laying on your back on the couch with Agatha on top of you.

The kiss heats up and you bite softly into her lips, when she hums you slide your tongue through it, smoothing it up. 

You don’t want to move away from her, but the air inside your lungs feels insufficient, so even though you need it, you let out a whine when she separates. 

She stares into your eyes and you give her your best deer caught in headlights look, begging her to continue. She runs her hands down your torso and up inside your silk tank top, cups you breasts and runs her lips through your neck. You automatically throw your head back to give her more access as she runs her teeth through your soft spots, making you body shiver and adjust on the couch. 

Her hands keep their full attention on you, she slowly and languidly massages your soft mounds, running her thumbs over your nipples and pitching them. At that, you let out a moan and she does it again, this time accompanied by a bite over the sensitive spot she found on your neck. Your lower half comes off the couch and she has to take her hands off of your breasts to hold your waist down. 

“Agatha?” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes, dear?” She takes her mouth off of your neck to whisper, but keeps her head in place as her nose runs up to your pulse point. 

“I’ve never… y’know?” You mutter back and pray to whoever’s gods exist that she wouldn’t stop. 

“Oh.” She comes back up and stares into your eyes. Looking up at her, you see her flushed cheeks and the blown pupils, her hair is falling down like a curtain and you hope this isn’t a very realistic dream. 

Her mouth widens to the biggest shitting eating grin you’ve ever seen and she gives you a long peck while her hands hold your waist firmly. “Oh baby, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you feel so good.” 

You gulp at her words and don’t doubt them for a second. She slides her hands down the  outside of your things, hooks her fingers under your knees and brings your legs up to settle herself between them. You think she’ll get right down to business, but gets surprised when her head continues to plant firm kisses over your neck. Her hands climb up your thighs and squeeze them in the most delicious way, causing you to squirm under the touch, bothered by the way your wet underwear brushes against you without causing any form of relief. 

You hear a chuckle. “Someone is anxious.” She says and your only response is a whine. 

She slips off the straps and lower your tank top, takes a moment to move away and looks down at you. Wetting her lips, she lets out an appreciative sound at the back of her throat and jumps back to ravish your breasts, running her lips, teeth and tongue. 

Sucking one nipple into her mouth causes your hips to buckle and you find relief by rubbing your center through her hip bone. Her nails carve into the flesh of your things, but that only seems to sputter you on and when she doesn’t stop you, you let out a moan.

She pays attention to your left breast until it’s red and sensitive, your nipples are swollen from the action and you can feel the marks her teeth have left. She changes roads and focuses on your other tit, by then you’re painting from the stimulation and the constant movements of your hips. 

Your panties are ruined and it feels like Agatha spends an eternity ignoring where you want her the most. She kisses the underside of your breasts and leaves a hickey behind. As she continues her work on your chest, her nails scratch all the way up to the waistband of your shorts, she dislodges herself to take them off and stare at your purple panties.

“Purple? I like it.” She devours you up with her eyes and you feel yourself blush, as a response she gives you a fond dirty smile and you melt into the couch. 

She kisses you fervently and your hands come up to hold her head in place, not wanting the action to end. She passes her tongue through your lips and takes control of the kiss, your head swoons and you keep up with the rhythm. She bites your lips and her hands travel down into your panties. 

They are soaked through, ruined. 

“Oh honey. Is this all for me?” She asks as her fingers run up and down the fabric. You nod frantically and bite your lower lip, embarrassed. 

She pushes the material aside and runs her fingers through your folds, around your clit and near your entrance. Bringing her fingers up she puts them in her mouth and moans. Her eyes roll back and you feel a new wave of arousal in your center. She repeats the motion, but this time brings her fingers close to your face, your mouth envelopes them and a hum escapes you at the taste. 

You’ve tasted yourself many times when alone, but this feels inexplicably better, your tongue runs through her digits as slowly as you can, gathering all that it’s attached to her skin and giving her your best ‘fuck me’ face. 

She takes her fingers out and moves her thumb across your lower lip, smearing it with saliva. 

“Oh god. I wanted to fuck you so badly.” She whispers close to your face. “These are way too big though, my mouth will have to do, for now.” 

You freeze up at her words and remember the big white nails that have been scratching you this whole time. She slides down your body, stopping on the way to leave kisses at your tits and belly, before settling face to face with your center. 

She looks up at you and you hold your breath, she begins placing kisses and bites over your thighs. 

Her nails pass lightly through your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake and settling themself firmly when Agatha’s mouth comes closer to where you desperately need her. You involuntarily buckle when she brushes her lips over your mound and licks a circle around your clit. 

You let out a soft moan when she blows lightly across your soaked skin and covers your own mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you or I will stop.” She threatens seriously and continues when you nod, looking down at her. 

Her tongue slides down to your entrance and you groan when she enters you. You feel her wet chin on you and when she picks up the pace and starts to tongue fuck you, your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

You let out a cry and your thighs close on their own accord, thankfully Agatha holds them in place as she licks her way up to your clit and sucks on it. 

It’s too much and not enough at the same time, you try telling her that, but the only thing you’re able to do is let out a sob and pull the hair you’ve holding. She lets out a moan at that and the vibration reverberates through your clit, making you throw your head back. 

She presses her tongue against your hole again and you squeeze your eyes shut, while repeating the motions her hand begins to move and the world seems to stop when a finger lays on your clit, before rubbing it in circular motions. Finally your body sizzles up and a cry escapes you as your lower half disconnects from the couch.

Agatha holds you as best as she can and carries you through your orgasm, before you finally settle back on the couch. 

She climbs back and crashes her mouth into yours, you taste yourself on her lips and sense the arousal rubbing between you two, your breasts are pressed together and you feel her nipples poking through the purple babydoll.

“How was that for a first time?” She asks you with a sly smirk. 

You undulate against her and let out a chuckle. “Couldn’t have gone better.”

[hanjsquokka]

❛ you're the one. ⠀𓏔⠀ bc.

bang chan × fem!reader — established relationship, non idol! au, wedding! au, based on chan's unreleased song baby, fluff

summary — you've been through all the ups and downs life has thrown at you, now you take the last step to be with the person you love the most, with some surprises from him, of course, what did expect?

warnings — alcohol (champagne), lots of kissing, it isn't clearly stated but chan is a songwriter!

word count — 3k

author's note — happy chan day!! 🩷 this is just butterfly inducing fluff, i've recently finished watching my demon and my wedding fever took over lol. i've only been to this kind of wedding once in my entire life and that was over ten years ago lmao so i apologize if i made any mistakes. i hope you guys like this one 🫶🏼🫶🏼

The dress you bought a month ago felt stuffy the more you paced around in it, your bare feet wearing down the floor of the room you were waiting in, trying your best to practice walking around in the gown so you wouldn't trip in front of everyone and make a fool of yourself and get the nerves out of your system. You weren't getting cold feet—no, that wasn't the issue. You wanted this, but the gravity of the whole situation plus the people that were outside, waiting for you, made your stomach queasy.

Marrying Bang Chan was a decision you took without hesitating for a beat. You'd dated him for four years—four beautiful years that you cherished. You've never met a man like him before, someone so... full of love, so much to give to everyone around him, so much happiness when he was with the ones he loved, and a fierce protectiveness that came along with it. You never thought being with someone could be so life-changing. Memories of the two of you flooded your mind as you walked around, the sensation of the wooden floor both soothing and overwhelming at the same time. Your first date, your first kiss, your first anniversary—so many firsts that made your heart feel fuzzy. If you had to describe him in one word, it would be perfect, even if he didn't agree with it. To you, Chan was perfect. He was the perfect balance of tender and sensual, someone who would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe, a man straight out of a book (sometimes you feared you would wake up from this dream and find yourself alone, that you had imagined this near-perfect human loving you out of everyone else in the whole world).

“Y/n,” your friend called. You almost jumped to the ceiling like a frightened cat, placing a hand over your chest to calm your racing heart, turning around to see her, dressed in navy blue satin, as your other friends and bridesmaids, who were most likely outside, made their way down the aisle with their paired groomsmen—Chan's friends. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but it's time.” She said apologetically, not wanting to agitate you further. The nerves were written all over your face; she understood that, seeing that the event about to unfold was once in a lifetime and you were a bit of a perfectionist. 

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat, and you looked around for the bouquet you placed somewhere, in the mess of clothes that were strung out in the room. The theme of your wedding was white with navy blue, hence why your bridesmaids and maid of honor wore navy blue; the groomsmen had blue orchids as their boutonnières, as did Chan, although you hadn't seen him since the previous day as he stayed over at his friend's place, following the tradition of not seeing the bride (or bride to be?). You barely ate anything in the morning, feeling too jittery to keep anything in your stomach.

You let out a sharp exhale a few moments later, clutching the navy blue roses with some other tiny white flowers you couldn't put a name on with the jumbled mess that your brain was in currently, once you were sure you had everything you needed. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, like drums playing in the background of a movie scene, except you were the only one who could hear, and maybe anyone who stood closely to you. Your hands gripped the bouquet you were holding tighter, some part of your brain screaming that you would break the stems if you didn't release your iron grip.

The wedding march made your anxiousness reach an all-time new peak, looking at your friend one more time and feeling a bit better at the sight of her reassuring expression. She mouthed a ‘go get your man’, making you blush furiously, even as she quickly went away to where the others were standing. 

Walking down the aisle, you were in a daze. You recognized your friends and family in your peripheral, your parents smiling wide and holding back tears, Chan's parents having the same reaction—but your vision tunneled at the sight of your almost husband. Your fiancé, dressed in a dapper suit, looking as handsome as ever. A hot bubble of emotion swelled up inside you as you drew closer to the end of the aisle where he was waiting. Other than the nagging thoughts in your head that were telling you not to make a fool of yourself by tripping and falling on your face, you could only think of Chan. When you finally reached him, you could see unshed tears glistening in his eyes and a smile so wide it made your heart skip a beat.

Chan was absolutely starstruck the moment he saw you. To him, you were always beautiful, but right then, seeing you in that dress, holding a bouquet of flowers, and coming to him, a conundrum of emotions swirled inside him, his throat feeling tight with each step that you took. Once you finally reached him, he wanted to tell you a million things, but the words died in his mouth as he stood in your presence. 

Neither of you were able to say anything, but he took your hands into his after you handed your bouquet to your maid of honor, a thousand words passing through both of you in a single gentle squeeze.

I love you.

The officiant started the ceremony, most of which passed by in a blur for you. When the vows were exchanged, a few tears slipped down your cheeks as Chan read his. The words were so romantic and profound, they made your heart hurt in the best way possible. He kept looking up, locking eyes with her as he recited the words that seemed to come straight from his soul. While you were doing yours, you could barely keep the paper still in your hands as you read. Your fiancé had a way with words that you didn't have, but you hoped it sounded as good as it did when you first wrote them a few weeks ago. Once the rings were exchanged with trembling jands and the officiant pronounced you as husband and wife, Chan wasted no second to pull you close and capture your lips in a searing kiss. Your face flushed at the sudden action, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on you, but Chan didn't let your attention wander from him for too long. 

“My darling girl,” he said quietly when the two of you pulled away to catch your breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You look absolutely breathtaking. I wanted to say that earlier, but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth.”

You smiled widely. How he managed to make your heart flutter with the simplest words, even after all these years, was still a question to you. “Thank you. You look handsome too.” Your hands found the lapels of his tux and straightened it. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead before he moved to take your arm and lead you back down the aisle, almost Cheshire cat-like smiles on both of your faces, petals of flowers being rained upon you by your friends and family as you walked past them. 

Happiness—pure happiness filled you to the brim as you walked beside Chan, your newlywed husband. There were cheers from your friends and younger cousins, which only increased the emotion you were feeling, laughing along with them so much you felt your cheeks burn from the smile fixed onto your face.

While the guests shifted to the reception area for the food and drinks and cake-cutting, you two took a breather near the dressing rooms before you had to take photos with the rest of the wedding party.

Chan squeezed your hands; you could see his body was almost vibrating with excitement. “My beautiful wife,” he said, a giggle following after his words. You must've looked like two children to others, but you could hardly care about that in the moment. “I love you. So much. I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest.”

“Mine too. I'm worried someone can hear it if they stand too close,” you admitted, a sheepish chuckle following afterwards. His eyes were crescents,nearly disappearing as he beamed at you. “I love you too, Channie.”

You were ushered to the outside venue to take pictures with your wedding party and close family. It took a long time, much longer than you wanted it to. Even after your family and friends had left to the reception area, the two of you were stuck, made to do thousands of over-the-top poses (which made you laugh, in turn taking even longer) by the photographers in order to capture that perfect wedding portrait. By the time you dragged your feet to just outside the room full of people, you felt your stomach growl.

“I think it's going to revolt if I don't eat soon,” you said with an amused snort, placing a hand over your grumbling tummy. Other than the fact that you hadn't eaten properly in the morning, your mind was now fixated on the lunch that awaited you—a lunch you and your then boyfriend now husband had planned carefully, including all of your favorite dishes that were on the menu and desserts and, of course, your two tiered chocolate and vanilla wedding cakes you were yet to see.

Chan let out a few more of those adorable giggles you were addicted to. “I've been dreaming about this meal for the past five weeks.” The way his thoughts were similar to yours, it made you feel better and slightly terrified at the same time. You could hear someone speaking, about to announce the two of you as you walked in the room. You felt your hand being tugged, so you turned to your right and saw him nearly bouncing in his place. “Ahh, they're going to do it, they're going to do it—they're going to call us together.” You couldn't help but smile at his adorable excitement.

And they did announce you as newlywed husband and wife, the two of you walking hand in hand into the room. The cheers and applause only got louder as Chan suddenly spun you and dipped you as he kissed your lips. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth, him holding you gently and roughly at the same time, keeping you in place until he kissed you breathless. You were flushed and panting when he pulled away and brought you up to stand straight again, a cheeky smile on his face when he saw your flustered reaction. There was a whistle, probably from his friends, ever the rowdy but endearing bunch they were.

Lunch followed shortly, a delicious meal that had you salivating as they served it on your plates. The moment you took a bite, you did a little happy dance in your seat, only freezing in your spot when you heard your husband's laugh, and you felt a bit embarrassed for a few moments before you dug into your food again. It was as tasty as you imagined—even better, to be frank, since you were starving. You were glad you were sitting next to Chan and nobody else, who only encouraged you to have as much as you'd like instead of making backhanded comments about how many servings you were having. It was your wedding after all, with the food that you paid for. It was only fitting to eat until you felt like you were going to burst.

The reception venue was decorated beautifully. You took in the details once your train of hunger had slowed down. The flowers, the name cards, the decorations, and all of your guests. You felt an insurmountable feeling of joy. Everybody was chattering gleefully, digging into their lunch and pointing to the different photos hung up around the room. It was your friends’ idea to do that—have little memento photographs strung up around the area to make the event more you. They were from dates or small gatherings, all which you both selected (so Chan couldn't give out those highly embarrassing photos he had stored away in a folder in his gallery). 

The cake-cutting after lunch was probably your favorite part of lunch. You felt bad that you were going to ruin such a gorgeous cake, but the promise of that luscious chocolate cake you had tastes ages ago when selecting the flavor and design was too tempting to resist. You almost tipped over the entire thing when you tried to move the knife out of the spongey inside.

As the day went on and most of the older people had begun to leave after lunch, giving both of you gifts and wishing you well, the evening cocktail party had started. The DJ started to play more slow and romantic music, inviting you both to have your first dance. Despite practicing it numerous times, it was like you were in a Disney movie when you were doing it now, time moving in slow motion. You could feel the warmth of his palm on your waist, the other holding your hand as he gracefully led you through the waltz. Soon, other couples joined you on the dance floor, and you moved to the rhythm of the song.

Toasts and speeches with champagne were held shortly after, his best man, your maid of honor, and then finally your own husband giving speeches. Chan speaking into the mic was an unrecited event; you didn't know if it was more of a spur of the moment thing or if he had planned to say something from the start.

“Hello everyone,” he said, clearing his throat. “I'd like to thank you all for coming here to celebrate my wedding with my gorgeous wife. It means a lot to me that you're here with us.” You could feel there was more to his speech, even though there was light applause from the people around you. Chan focused his attention on you. “Y/n, you're the love of my life... I know I said this a lot during our vows and our proposal—and every day, to be honest. I will never get tired of saying it. I was thinking day and night on how to make this special day even more special, something that properly displays how much I love you, from the bottom of my heart. Finally… I ended up with this. I hope you like it.” He didn't say anything else and turned to the DJ. His friends, the groomsmen, joined him, which only made you furrow your brows even more.

A pop beat started to play through the speakers. You saw him hold the mic closer, knowing glances passed between him and his friends as the music continued. It was a lively beat, something that sounded familiar but you couldn't put a finger on it. Then it hit you all at once when you met his eyes. It was the song we were working on a couple weeks ago, one that made him fumble and shut the computer down when you walked into the room to hand him coffee. When you questioned him, he merely replied with a vague ‘it's not good yet; I'll show you when it's perfect’.

When he started singing, you felt your heart thud in your chest, goosebumps forming on your skin. It was like a performance, with him singing and dancing a little and the groomsmen as his background dancers. Your friend nudged you when he sang something along the lines of ‘popstar in the streets but a rockstar underneath’, making you blush furiously and even more at the smirk he had on his face. 

And then he pulled you into the dance, twirling you around. You were surprised at first, but you slowly let yourself loose and followed his movements. Your laughs were drowned out by the music, but you knew he could hear them, and that prompted him to continue his song. You couldn't believe he wrote this and was performing it for you. Even as the song ended, the night continued with party music and dancing and a few sips of champagne. It was perfect. After one last slow dance, your wedding was coming to an end, which made you feel upset but happy that you were going to wake up tomorrow in the same honeymoon haze.

And although you both made teasing promises to each other about how you'd enjoy your wedding night, when you got home, all you wanted to do was get out of your dress and into bed. Right before you drifted off into sleep, you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, gazing at his softened expression fondly. Your engagement ring and wedding ring glinted in the dimly lit room, butterflies dancing in your stomach at the sight. 

Chan covered your hand with both of his, relishing the intimate contact with you both. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss on your palm before placing it exactly where it was, a sleepy hum reverberating in his throat as you stroked his skin. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you more.”

He let out a playful groan. “I'm too tired to argue with you, so I'll let you win. Just this once.” An arm snaked around your waist, drawing you close enough so that you could rest your head on his chest, and soon enough, you fell into a deep sleep with dreams of him and what the future could hold for you.

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[undisclosedproxy]

Possessive, obsessive, aggressive T.R T.N M.R

Summary: This will be a continued little series i will be writing. It’s an au on how Y/N has moved into a house with Theodore, Mattheo and Tom after they finished their schooling at hogwarts.(p.s this is kinda just an intro so give me suggestion on scenarios i should do!!) (My inspo is from this girl who made an Au called “new girl” or smth, if u see this girl ilysm) These three boys are all madly in love with her and they aren’t afraid to show it in all ways necessary, and Y/N? well she doesn’t mind being shared.

The soft wind of the morning sunrise blew through Y/N’s open window, causing her to slowly open her eyes with a soft groan at the change in temperature. One minute she had been cozy and warm, the next she was freezing. There had been a massive party last night at their usual homely manor; she could barely remember anything except dancing, sex, and drinking. Her head throbbed with pain as she slowly sat up, her body aching and her mind spinning. Her tired eyes scanned the room, feeling relieved when everything was clean, as usual. She sighed as she tried to run her fingers through her hair, only to meet large, painful knots. She couldn’t be bothered to deal with this yet; the sun hadn’t even risen, so she didn’t have to either. Y/N fell back onto her soft bed with a thump.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard loud pots and pans clattering downstairs. She knew instantly who it was—Tom. Why is this guy always so nonchalant, doing the most random things? She forced her tired body out of bed and practically dragged herself and her rats nest of hair to the kitchen, where he was currently attempting to clean the basically trashed manor.

”You’re awake.” he said dryly, his face as still and emotionless as usual.

Y/N’s brows furrowed in annoyance as she watched him clean up cups and trash from their sleek counters. He was dressed in his usual day attire—neither too casual nor too formal. Y/N always wondered how he was always so put together and organized. It was one of the reasons she adored him so much. He had been there for her when she felt like her life was falling apart, helping her piece it back together.

”You’re loud.” Y/N responded back with the same dry tone in her voice.

“Well I do sincerely apologise I have cleaning to do. You imbeciles trashed the manor.” Tom said in his monotone voice as he stood up straight to look Y/N in the eyes.

“Please just be quieter..” Y/N murmured as she flopped onto the large couch, Tom watched her from behind the counter, times like this is when he really enjoys the open concept of the manor, he can watch her do everything.

”I. am. sorry.” He said in a forced voice, Tom doesn’t apologise, he’s never apologised to anyone, expect Y/N. He has a special place for her in his heart, they all do, hence they all moved in together.

”mph” she murmured back already half asleep on the couch.

Tom walked over to the cupboard with long strides and grabbed a lancet from the top shelf and draped it over Y/N and kissed her forehead and let her rest.

2 and a half hours later

”Are you serious? you’re kicking me out?” An annoying loud female voice screeched from upstairs as her loud thumping stomps could be heard throughout the whole home.

”Not even a good morning? or making me breakfast?” she yelled angrily, obviously still pretty under the influence of the copious amounts of alcohol and drugs she did last night.

“Morni-” Mattheo started with a yawn as he came downstairs to a sleeping Y/N and a grumpy Tom.

”Shut up.” Tom huffed cutting him off.

”Why so angry dearest brother? You didn’t get any pussy last night?” Mattheo asked obviously just trying to get under Toms skin as much as he can.

”I do not indulge in those ludicrous activities you and Nott get into.” Tom said shoving a paper plate of a food that was unrecognisable into the trash bag he was holding, a grim look plastered onto his face.

”Speaking of those ludicrous activities, what is that god awful screeching emitting from Theodores quarters.” Tom said looking around in disgust as he assessed the progress of cleaning he had done.

”I have no idea what you just said.” Mattheo said standing in the middle of the open kitchen and living room awkwardly as he stared blankly at his brother.

”What? Are you-? Forget it. Go tell them to close their mouths, they’ll wake up Y/N.” Tom said glancing over Y/Ns sleeping figure that somehow hasn’t awakened from the squealing. Mattheo’s gaze softened at the sight, he was about to go upstairs but was interrupted.

“FUCK YOU THEODORE NOTT!” The girl screamed, finally shes revealed herself, she ran down the stairs wearing just a skimpy red thong as she bundled up her dark blue dress to her chest to cover her and use the last bit of decency she was holding on to.

Tom and Mattheo watched as the girl ran out of the manor angrily, still muttering rude words directed to Theodore. Theodore’s foot steps got louder as he came down the stairs quickly, he was wearing just boxers obviously he had an eventful night. He opened the door forcefully and threw her heels at her accidentally hitting her straight in the head.

”OUCH!” She screeched from outside.

Theodore sighed as he locked the door with a quick motion. He turned to everyone else, an amused and tired Mattheo, a grumpy Tom and a just woken up, confused Y/N.

”What?” Theodore asked confused as he stared blankly back at everyone.

[the-artist-grimm]

Sooo, I kinda binge read all of your CoTL au, and forgive me if I missed anything, but do your lamb and Narinder ever make-up and work things out? Or more specifically, does Lamb ever forgive Narinder?

They do make up eventually! They just gotta work out other issues first.

The first few months the Lamb basically ignores Narinder and leaves him in the care of an elderly follower who typically takes on ‘troubled’ newbies. Anthea’s tired, they’re confused, they’re grieving Aym and Baal since during their time as vessel they essentially became like a second parent to them, and they’re hurt because for the first time in their life Anthea wanted something. They wanted to tell Narinder their feelings, they wanted to maybe start some sort of life together, like the lamb had never considered having a future out of the guilt of being the survivor, so finally letting themselves indulge that selfish wish just for it to crumble? Did he think so little of them, that an out of context conversation was enough to push him away? Forget him not respecting their privacy deal by listening in-that stung the most. Anthea puts their grief in a box and throws themselves into cult-leader/new god stuff to try and not have time to dwell outside of nightly visits to the graveyard to cry over their family and the twins’ graves. 

Meanwhile Narinder immediately regrets everything after the two of them have a massive argument that first moment he appeared on the indoctrination stone-he realizes he jumped the gun, is now down two children and the person he’d fallen in love with now refuses to so much as look at him. Nona, the elderly deer woman he’d been placed into the care of alongside the Knucklebones Gang as Anthea's parental figures quickly figure out the whole situation is just miscommunication and are trying to get him to just tell the lamb plainly ‘You were doing the exact same thing my siblings did before they betrayed me, I'm sorry I was scared-’, but its kinda hard to do when the lamb just avoids him. Plus he’s thinking he’s earned what he’s got. 

Aym and Baal getting revived is what kickstarts them slowly talking again. When Anthea gets the necklaces from the seller the lamb has no clue how to use them, so they go to Narinder with basically ‘We’re both at fault for their deaths, you’re at the graves as much as me mourning, I’ll put aside everything just please HELP ME’. And he does. Perfectly. Its been 4 months and Anthea’s having a really hard time justifying their anger since he’s been behaving the whole time, and when it comes to the twins only speaks in regards to resurrecting them, works on things/loses sleep preparing the ritual when the lamb has cult things to do, and when an old failsafe left by Shamura activates during the ritual itself he runs to the lambs side to help keep them steady as they break through it. They’re still hurt, but they do realize that they’re being a bit of a jerk ignoring him like this.

The twins also don’t come back mentally ok. Their deaths/the resurrection leaves both with pretty bad PTSD and separation anxiety (they’re like 11-12 they’re too young for all of this), and especially at night the twins alternate between needing Anthea, Narinder, or both nearby to sleep since despite Narinder’s denial he’s their dad 100%, and the Lamb is basically the twins’ maternal parent. It was Anthea being so good with the kits that got them to become friends at first, and it's the kits that slowly help them to be that again. 

It still takes time for them both to be ready to sit down and just explain where their heads were at that day. As Anthea frees the bishops and gets their sides of the story they realize just how much their behavior mirrored the bishops’ prior to their betrayal of Narinder and how much of their behavior in a way mirrors Shamura themself, the ‘oldest sibling’ giving pieces away till nothing was left and they snapped (Anthea never reached that point, but Shamura did with jumping the gun on imprisoning Narinder. Lives of the many over the one with potential to be a risk), and Narinder needs to come to terms with how his imprisonment came to be/make amends with his siblings.

They DO make up after a little over a year, and after everything kinda falls back into place. Things are different sure, but they love each other too much to hold back anymore.

(Love how this AU has become half miscommunication since this pantheon has no clue how to talk to each other, and the other half is the Lamb accidentally adopts two kittens with Narinder before they suddenly have a weird gotta share the kids despite the divorce arc)

[yuri-is-online]

Thinking about the future kid au and Jamil!Yutu (help his tsum is so cute, i love the tsum events)

Like...you said Jamil! Yutu wishes he wasn't born so his dad wouldn't have been executed because some Asim relatives guilted him (desoite them being the ACTUAL reason he died)

Needless to say his relationship with his dad is complicated , but I can't stop thinking about Yutu being of two minds about his parents like "I'm gonna get in the way of your plans for the evening because I don't want either of you to get close and eventually die because of me" but also somehow everything he attempts doesn't work

Because Jamil isn't one to give up easily (none of the boys are) and he just- feels so much freer and happier than he ever has when he gets to trade snarky comments, silly puns and honest praise with Yuu. And he won't let this mysterious guy get ik the way of that, he pretends to enjoy his remaining years at NRC to the best of his ability thank you very much. Plus he's working on gaining his freedom and Yuu is his number one cheerleader at this don't tell Kalim tho he'll be sure to cranck up his enthusiasm if you do ofc he won't stop talking to them nor dreaming of what could be, it's all he has to avoid going mad

Yutu however is losing his mind because every time there's danger he gets reminded of his dad's corpse being dragged around and he keeps worrying this time his dad will die trying to protect Yuu from harm

Little does he know Jamil would rather give his life protecting Yuu than any Asim because that's his CHOICE and that's the person who chose HIM over everyone else. Cue Yutu recovering from the battle, looking around frantically for signs of either of his parents and seeing Yuu patching Jamil up, bantering lightly and sharing such soft looks. They look so happy despite their bruises and suddenly Yutu gets this nauseating feeling of dread because he can see why they fell in love, which means maybe he's too late to stop it now

And then Grim complains that he's hungry after the fight and they both share this look and Yutu gets the little sadness of "oh, this is what it would've been like"

Just- aaaaaaahhhhhhh this au is so good and so angsty but also I wanna add just a little bit of fluff for these poor boys (my original thought was of Yutu seeing his parents meeting in the town and following them to try to sabotage their not-date only to end up making each scenario more romantic until he gives up when they start dancing in the middle of nowhere and he recognizes the dance from when Yuu taught him many years ago)

Happy Birthday Jamil (so sorry this is late), the tsum part of this post really shows you how old it is I am so sorry. Jamil is a real cutie though, his birthday message this year is him thanking Yuu for being someone he can trust to give him something without having ulterior motives. Post OB! Jamil should have a special sort of respect for Yuu I think. He understands what it is like to have to care for someone who makes a lot of problems against your will, but maybe not that you could love that person in the way Yuu loves Grim. Lots to think about with JamilYuu, lots to think about... so this one gets to have two parts as well whoops.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, CW lots of self hatred and thoughts of death, body horror, major character death, bullying, and brief mention of suicide. This post features some o.c.s created by @archetypal-archivist for this ayuu. More information about the ayuu can be found here, here, and here. Masterlist can be found here

The early morning is a sacred time for your little family.  When Yutu was little you would sneak into his room to make sure he was still asleep.  He never was, he'd developed some sort of sixth sense for when his favorite person was home and would wait patiently snuggled into the red scarf he used as a security blanket to surprise you.

“Boo!”  The scarf would go up in the air and you would let out an exaggerated gasp of surprise as your son giggled in manic delight.  “I got you!”

“You got me!”  He'd been little enough to lift up into the air then, you miss those days even though they were difficult.  

Your son still “spooks” you when you come home in the morning.  His former blanket has become a part of his wardrobe, and he's much too big for you to lift up over your head anymore but he's not pretending to be asleep anymore either.  

“Boo!”  Today Yutu has made some tomatoes and eggs, you think you smell coffee but that's not a smart thing for you to be drinking right now.  

“Thank you, little light.”  You settle down at your kitchen table and Yutu excitedly tells you about his plans for the day.  When he does this you always feel lucky, as if you didn't expect him to be such a normal and happy child.  As if there was something other than poverty and your illness that would hold him down and deny him any sense of self or success.  Yutu has never felt like there is anything he cannot do so long as he tries, he's very ambitious, your little light.  You've told him more than once you hope his spark never dims, that you are so proud of him for not letting his circumstances dictate his goals.

There's some relief in knowing you aren't here to see him hiding behind his scarf again.  It would hurt you to see how fast he shrinks away from the lich descending from his throne, putrid rotting flesh assaulting his nose even through the silk guard.  This is his fault, he can find no other logical explanation.  You would disagree, he has no idea what the corpse in front of him would say, but neither of you lived to see what he has.  He's not so full of himself that he thinks the world ended with his birth, but yours most certainly did.  

Yutu is a smart and polite child, the sort of little boy who makes old ladies swoon and insist that his parents are so lucky to have him.  That was a point of pride for him before arriving in Twisted Wonderland.  He never had too many questions about his father, he could see he wasn't the only one of his peers who was being raised by a single parent which was enough reassurance for him.  Maybe he'd meet his father one day, maybe he wouldn't.  He was much more concerned with making friends and learning everything he could.

He loves school in general, but his favorite subject is the stars.  It starts with him trying to amuse himself while waiting for you to come home from work and evolves into a hobby as he gets older.  His first proper expensive present is a refurbished telescope you spent a lot of time researching and asking questions about.  That's the first chip at his self confidence when he's alone in Twisted Wonderland; you worked so hard for that gift and he didn't bring it with him.  Sure, he didn't know what was happening but he knew something was off.  He should have grabbed it and kept it close…

Star gazing isn't his only hobby, he really likes cooking and experimenting with coffee.  He took up cooking because he was tired of waiting for you to come home and make food and expected it to be boring but there's something fulfilling about eating food you've made yourself he really likes.  The fact it makes him more attractive to his classmates is not something he thinks about at all, not one little bit.  You've never found him making extra food for a particular “friend” with a familiar determined smirk on his face.  “Your father used to do the same thing.”  You say it absentmindedly, the look of embarrassment you're met with is also quite similar.  “Not.  Another.  Word.”  

Money is tight, but Yutu still finds ways to participate in extracurricular activities.  He wants them on his college applications, sure, but he also wants friends, his own little group of people who won't care too much about his parent's reputation. Cooking club and drama class end up being his home base, you've got an unwilling front row seat to so much pointless highschool drama it gives you a headache.  He likes playing pickup basketball with his friends but joining the team isn't something he got a chance to do before getting isekaid.

The little bits and pieces you remember about his father make him out to be extremely normal. You remember his favorite food, that he liked cooking and playing basketball. You tell your son he takes after his father in how talented he is; Yutu is proud to be like his father, he assumes that he will get the full story from you someday. Maybe his dad died, maybe you never told him that he was going to be a father out of fear and never got a chance because you lost your memories in a tragic accident. Either way, Yutu is sure that one day he will find out who his father is and he'll be able to help you reconcile your relationship, whether it's by processing his death or reconnecting your friendship.

There's nothing particularly special about the day you remember.  He felt like trying something new with his hair and you had offered to turn his scarf into a turban, memories of fireworks sparking your hands into motion while Yutu tells you about what his teacher wants the school play to be this year.

“Careful!”  Yutu whines as you pull his hair through the cloth.  

“I am being very careful.” You laugh, the look on Yutu's face is familiar. Just like... “Jamil bought this for me, you know.”

“Jamil?” Yutu has never heard that name before, but he can tell it's important. He's never heard you sound so tender before.

“I think we were joking about push presents and he was offended thinking he had to wait until you were born to get me something nice.”  There was meant to be a matching piece of jewelry with Yutu's birthstone he thought you didn't know about, but then…  how could you have forgotten that?  You were going to make fun of him for how sloppy Yutu's birth was making him.  He was losing his touch, the old Jamil never would have been so obvious with a surprise.

“Is that such a bad thing?  You're giving me a gift.” Jamil is looking up at you confused, but it's not Jamil, it's your son. Your little light who- "You look so much like him." Your hand shakes, the world around you fades to black and Yutu begins to scramble.

~~~~

When Yutu opens his eyes he's in a dark room in front of a mirror with a mask hovering in a sea of green flame, there is noise buzzing around him that must be conversation, but try as he might he can't reign himself back into focus. You are still, eyes glassy and unresponsive to his calls. There is a man shaking him, trying to pull him to his feet as he calls for... the word he uses is healer and that allows Yutu to settle himself. "... a healer and take Yuu to the hospital wing immediately!" The Headmage snaps and a woman with brown hair immediately bolts to obey. The person next to her reaches out, but does not follow; the boy's presence is throwing cold water over a particular part of the crowd they would be wise to keep watch over. That isn't the right word so Yutu must be dreaming, he gives the man in the fur coat his attention and obeys, stepping forward to allow the mirror to judge his soul.

"Scarabia." If Yutu was not so convinced he was dreaming he would notice the way the person who approaches him looks, the meaning behind the fur coat's insistence he stay put and wait for him in the mirror chamber. But he does not. So when that person extends their hand, welcomes him to Scarabia and asks him to follow he thinks nothing of it. This is all a bad dream, you will shake him awake and tell him more about Jamil.

Not that he really needs to wait.

The first hit is a slap, the second is a basic fire spell but he doesn't know that when it sears his skin. He doesn't even know why these students are so angry, doesn't recognize his own last name he just thinks the word Viper is being used as an insult. When smoke begins to surround him he assumes the other students have decided to stop toying with him. He's going to die. He just found out his father's name, magic is real, other worlds are real, you are dead. You are dead and there's a foul smelling smoke around him; he's never really thought about what it would be like to die but Yutu finds himself surprisingly calm. "We'll be together soon, [parent]... father are you waiting too?"

"I would hate to waste a necklace on the likes of you." An authoritative voice cuts through the smoke, Yutu recognizes this person as his attackers scatter. The strange one who tried to stop the woman who ran off after the man in the fur coat spoke. They are wearing a lot of jewelry, necklaces and bracelets with strange symbols that seem to thrum with power in a way that sends a shiver down his spine. A rueful smile crosses their lips for a brief second. "Not that it would be a waste of course." Their focus turns to the cause of the smoke, a kerchief they give one more good shake before tucking it back into a pouch with even more strange necklaces wrapped around it.

"Where am I?" Yutu sounds so small, he curses himself silently for it but how else is he supposed to feel when the mysterious stranger looks at him with so much pity?

"Exactly where you belong." They say with authority, as if they are attempting to shut out any doubts before they can form. "But, as much as it shames me to suggest it, that might not be the safest place for you right now."

Misbah is how this person introduces themselves. Their friend, who is beyond stressed to see Yutu so disheveled and insists on healing him before allowing him to see you, is named Sehrish. Explanations can wait until Yutu has had time to say his goodbyes, but the look the older students exchange when you ask them to make sure your son isn't treated like Jamil once was tells him there must be a lot of them. Of the three adults, no one agrees how to give him those explanations either. The only thing they do agree on is that it is unsafe for him to be in Scarabia right now, but there won't be a problem with Ramshackle Dorm even if it's name suggests to Yutu that there really probably should be.

Crewel takes him there, explaining along the way who he is and what he was to you; a professor turned reluctant mentor who cared very deeply about Yuu and Jamil's future. He's reluctant to think of himself as a grandfather, he's just not that old he insists and Yutu laughs just the little bit, but if Yutu has questions about Yuu and your time at the school he is more than welcome to ask. On his father he doesn't say much, simply that he is dead. Murdered actually, but the use of that word is complicated by the circumstances of it so Crewel does not suggest Yutu speak of his family to anyone other than Misbah and Sehrish. Yutu learns, later much later, that Crewel didn't wish to traumatize him further. That he wished to take his time in explaining things. A good idea, but no one that realistically was going to work.

Ramshackle Dorm is unlike the other dormitories at NRC, all the students save him are magicless exactly like his parent. They all know a lot about his parent too, much to his surprise you are something of an idol to these people. None of them mind that he can use magic, it's just neat to be able to talk about the magicless prefect with someone who also thinks they're super cool; some of them have family or family friends that went to NRC while you were here and saw how you handled the overblots, others learned of you when they came here as refugees and were offered a place in the program. "Ramshackle is for misfits and outcasts!" A particularly messy third year proudly tells him when he asks him why they don't mind. Yutu doesn't really know how to feel about that. He never manages to figure it out.

Sehrish is a graduate student and Misbah is a fourth year, which as Misbah explains to him means they spend most of their time "in the field." They wished to say everything from the start, Sehrish wanted to explain herself and her family but did not think herself qualified to say anything more. Was uncertain of how her story would make him feel, afraid of it. The Scalding Sands is their primary focus, that would have been his homeland too had Yuu not been disappeared. Currently it is under the rule of a phantom of the Sorcerer of the Sands, one of the Great Seven Yutu will learn about as his classes progress. Misbah does not hesitate to tell him that this phantom once possessed his father when he was a student, and it is believed that this time it is possessing his corpse. It's a thought that sickens Yutu, how could this have happened? And why?

The why is explained to him in parts. Sehrish starts with the history of the Al-Asims, of the city they helped to build and the relationship between her family and his. She describes his father's burning resentment of his station matter-of-factly. His father was a servant from a well liked and respected family, but that reputation came at a cost. The respect was not for him or his talents, it was for how well he served his master and it drove him mad. The desire for freedom and recognition transformed into a phantom, his parent had fought against it and seen it defeated but somehow it had returned to rule over the Scalding Sands.

Overblotting is something Yutu thinks he has begun to understand, his professors have focused on it heavily so he knows what a phantom is. He's even seen a few small ones, but a phantom large enough to rule over a kingdom resembling one of the Great Seven is... frightening. The other students are all more or less aware of their existence and Sehrish takes the rest of her time to explain where and who the other Phantoms used to be. "We don't know why this happened." But people have theories. There is a timeline he learns from other students whispering behind his back, how his parent disappeared and then suddenly Kalim Al-Asim was murdered.

The living Al-Asims aren't at NRC, there is a rival school across the Island where they chose to stay. They don't speak to Sehrish, the only people he can speak to with any level of authority are the one or two older servants who worked with his grandparents. They speak fondly of the Viper family, though of Jamil they offer little specifics. Murder is again the word used for what happened to him, quietly after looking over their shoulder. Yutu had an Aunt named Najma. She was lively, talked about Jamil's business and constantly made fun of him while being proud of his accomplishments. The Vipers were an honorable family. They didn't want trouble. Did not want to rock the boat. But his father must have otherwise he wouldn't have wanted to overblot...

Yutu wasn't quiet before Twisted Wonderland. He thought of himself as outgoing, you would be so sad to see how small his friend circle has gotten. As time passes, as he fights smaller phantoms, ventures into the Queendom on his first real mission, as he looks in the mirror and realizes he has scars now. His scarf has protective sygils embroidered by Misbah to repair the holes, he's met a merman with pointed teeth who mixed him a drink and told him a story about his father that made him sound... human in a way that scared him out of asking for more.

Yutu has seen what his father became, looked a rotting corpse into what remained of it's eyes and listened to it try to speak with a windpipe welded together by ink. The lich sorcerer of the sands is his father. Yutu has spent enough time listening to his Ramshackle dormmates explain their medical studies to see he died young; there are traces of poisons in the hairs he returns to Idia that make even him shudder. He will never get the full story, never get more from his classmates or the Al Asim representative he meets when returning Kalim's body about how this happened. Just that it was deserved, that none of this would have happened if Jamil had known his place and never obtained his freedom. That isn't something Yutu can bring himself to agree with. His father had every right to want the same say in his life that you had worked so hard to give him, and you...

If you asked Yutu when he started feeling like he did not deserve to exist, he wouldn't be able to give you a specific answer. He certainly never felt like he didn't belong in your world, the general sense of disbelonging he felt he always attributed to his ignorance of his father's identity. But that was a fixable problem, he so firmly believed he would one day get to meet his dad and other family and then all those burning cultural questions would be patched up. But Twisted Wonderland was another matter entirely, the harsh welcome made him feel unwanted even if the Ramshackle students went out of their way to try and mitigate that. But all of that acceptance, all of that love was tied to you. The living Al Asims looked at him and saw a pest, expected him to show deference and repent for his father's misdeeds, while the older servants saw a tragedy. A child so fondly spoken of and wished for but doomed to wander in a broken world none of them expected to survive. Either way, the only message Twisted Wonderland had to offer him was one of rejection. Whenever he made up his mind, by the time he made it to the past and was settled into your version of Ramshackle Dorm he was determined to keep you from making the mistake of staying with his father.

Part 2

[avonne-writes]

omg for the prompts i love "— “of course i remembered. it’s important to you, so now it’s important to me too.”" and and "— “can i hold your hand? is that weird to ask?”" and and omg "— “i can’t believe you didn’t know i liked you, i thought it couldn’t have been any more obvious.”" for the hs au pleaseeeeee

I posted the hand holding prompt a few days ago, so I'll exclude it here. The other two I'm going to combine with today's Daily Dose of Austin Butler prompt (this will only be at the end of the drabble).

The boys are 15 here, and this is right after they make up following their first serious fight. (Sorry for any typos, I'm very tired.)

TW for brief mention of child abuse

2. Selfie

"I can’t believe you didn’t know I liked you." Gale smiles softly at the small glow-in-the-dark stars that decorate the ceiling of Bucky's bedroom. They're the only source of light in the cozy night as he and Bucky lie there in Bucky's bed side by side. When Gale shifts, Bucky's hand tightens around his where they rest on Gale’s chest. "I thought it couldn’t have been any more obvious."

Bucky's chuckle is so close to Gale's ear that he feels a hot flush run down his neck. "I thought you were just shy."

"I'm not that shy!"

"If you say so, baby." Bucky laughs and hugs him, giddy and warm as usual.

Gale hugs him back and closes his eyes against the sudden pang of pain in his heart when he realizes how much he missed this. Being called baby. Being hugged.

Two months of dating and this is the first time that he’s staying the night. It feels like a dream, especially considering the past few days, when everything seemed to be falling apart because he lied about all the shit he has to put up with at home. Those stupid lies! Why couldn’t he just say, my father is an alcoholic and my mom doesn’t give a fuck?

Instead, he led Bucky to feel like Gale didn’t really like him after all. He confused him. Messed up the first relationship he has ever had. Bucky broke up with him, and Gale cried and cried and threw out all of his dad's booze just to get the slap he felt he deserved. It was... He doesn’t want to think about it. What matters is that his Bucky came back to him, they talked for, like, four hours non-stop, and everything is all right now. For the first time in a week, Gale feels the sweet draw of a peaceful sleep.

When Bucky kisses his cheek, he opens his eyes to look at the plastic stars again.

A few weeks ago, when Bucky had a cold and he came over to cuddle him for a few hours, Bucky told him that he had put those stars up with his dad not long before his parents divorced, but they didn’t finish the whole ceiling. His dad left and had almost no contact whatsoever with Bucky since. All that remains is the longing, an old sheepskin jacket and the stars on the ceiling. Although Gale wouldn’t mind if his own dad wasn’t around, he tries to sympathize. It’s not like he can ever understand, of course, but... well, he tries to do things for Bucky that he would like himself.

"Oh." He covers his face with a hand when he remembers what he has been carrying in his backpack since before their fight. "I forgot to give you your present!"

"Huh?" Bucky pushes himself up, confused, then laughs along with Gale as Gale fumbles to find the light switch. When the bedside lamp finally turns on, they squint at each other blearily in its glow.

A bit self-conscious in his checkered long-sleeved pjs, Gale climbs off the bed and pads over to his schoolbag, where he hopes his gift survived the past few days. He roots around a bit before he emerges triumphant with the small bag wrapped in a Marvel comic page because Bucky's obsessed with those.

Bucky beams in joy at the sight. "Why do I get a gift?" He asks after he takes it from Gale and starts picking at the wrapping.

Gale plops down next to him and tucks his growing hair behind his ear. "For our two-month anniversary." He says, grinning when Bucky gives him a smirk for using that term.

When his gaze drops back to the package, Bucky’s smile fades. "I, uh, got you some chocolate." He gives Gale an apologetic look. "But after - you know. I ate it."

For a moment, Gale stares into Bucky’s sad puppy eyes, then his lips wobble and he bursts into a laugh. "Oh my God."

"I'll buy you something tomorrow!"

Still giggling, Gale lets himself list to the side until his arm bumps into Bucky’s. "It’s okay. I'm not mad."

"Now I feel guilty though." Bucky pouts, but he throws an arm around Gale's shoulders as the contents of his gift finally spill over his lap.

Glow-in-the-dark stars and adhesive.

What Gale expects is a grin and a kiss, and Bucky rambling on about how he finally has enough stars to fill in the gaps on his ceiling, maybe an invitation to do it together, but there’s only silence at first. It’s unusual enough that he starts to worry. Was it a bad idea? Did he do something wrong? He chews at his bottom lip, but tries to find reassurance in the fact that Bucky hasn't pulled his arm back.

"You remembered." Bucky says quietly.

"Of course I remembered." Gale says, surprised that Bucky didn't think that was evident. "It’s important to you. So now it’s important to me too."

A part of Gale worries that he’s being too emotional, too sentimental. Maybe it's too much after only two months? He tried to research anniversary presents but there was no clear answer on the internet. It’s not like he can do much anyway, he barely gets any money from his mom.

The longer the silence stretches on, the more anxious Gale feels, but then, Bucky finally looks up at him, and the raw emotion in his eyes is enough to tell him that it wasn’t a mistake after all.

"Thank you." Bucky says quietly, then tangles his fingers in Gale's hair and gives him a lingering kiss that makes Gale's heartbeat race in joy. When he pulls back, he drops his face to Gale's neck, wraps his arms around him and starts giggling.

"What?" Gale smiles, stroking Bucky’s back.

After a few seconds, Bucky pulls back and kisses him again. "I was going to ask you if -" He bites his lip, uncharacteristically shaky with his words from some strange mix of joy and nerves that puzzles Gale. "- if you'd help me take them off."

Gale stops functioning for a moment. "You want to take them off?"

Bucky cracks a breathy laugh. "Yeah. I thought about it a few weeks ago. I thought we could - it could be a date, I mean - it's dumb but I feel like I don't need them anymore." He looks away, then back at Gale again. "Because I have you."

"Oh." Gale looks at his hands in his lap, trying to process it.

Bucky, who refused to let even his mom touch those stars, is now ready to take them off with Gale's help because of Gale. It doesn't even matter that this makes Gale's present pointless - the warmth of love fills Gale from head to toe. It kind of sounds like as if he was important to Bucky. More important than a memory from the father who left him. After two months. Gale doesn’t really know what this means, but... He likes it. Feeling like he matters is the most amazing thing he has ever experienced.

Slowly, a smile spreads over his face until he’s grinning at Bucky. He gives Bucky's shoulder a light shove. "You’re the least romantic boyfriend ever."

"Shut up, I can be romantic." Bucky laughs and tackles him back on the mattress. "I'm so romantic, you won’t even know what hit you."

"Your bony elbow?"

Bucky snorts, and they wrestle and banter until Gale’s out of breath from laughing and he’s sure his hair stands up in cowlicks. That’s when Bucky throws himself down next to him with his phone in his hand.

"Let’s take a selfie."

"Now?" Frowning, Gale holds up a hand to cover his face. He’s a mess in ugly pjs, and he's pretty sure he has a red spot on his chin too. Utterly unflattering. "No, come on."

"Gaaale." Bucky pleads, turning to his side to cling to Gale. "I'm bored of my wallpaper."

"Just download something."

"I'm bored of that too." Bucky whines. "Please, we don’t take enough selfies. I want to remember this day."

Gale peeks out between his fingers only to see his half-hidden face and tangled hair on the screen of the phone Bucky holds up above them. Grinning, Bucky snaps the photo, then chortles when Gale groans, closes his eyes and drops his hands in defeat.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

When Gale looks up again and sighs, Bucky turns his head, and they meet each other's eyes. Happiness passes between them like a wave of warmth. With an indulgent smile, Gale leans forward and presses his lips to Bucky's.

Snap.

That last selfie ends up being Bucky's wallpaper for months to come until he breaks his phone playing soccer with Curt.

[your-girl-nina]

jegulus romeo and juliet play au: Regulus is in charge of the hogwarts school play this year, he chooses Romeo and Juliet. James auditions for and gets the part of romeo because lily is playing juliet. Last minute though lily drops out and Regulus the only person who knows all the lines because he's obessed with the play has to play juliet last minute. James doesn't know Regulus is playing Juliet till the masquerade ball scene and they meet and kiss on stage for the first time. I feel like this would be such a great au, because Regulus acts a bit like a diva with wanting to get this play perfect(mostly because all the parents are coming to see it and he wants to make his proud). All the Marauders era teens are in the play.

I'm really sorry about not replying earlier!!!its been in my drafts for weeks 😭. so like, I almost cried when I read this. I love the concept and I now worship you. Thank you for living. I really appreciate your existence. I expanded on it if you don't mind. All credits to you though!! 🙌(fic below the cut. Word count: 1181. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE) @darkcrowprincess

Regulus Black stood at the front of the room, clipboard in hand, as he eyed the stage with sharp precision. The Hogwarts auditorium was buzzing with the excited chatter of students, most of them nervously glancing at their scripts, waiting for their cue. The annual school play was just around the corner, and this year Regulus had pulled out all the stops. Romeo and Juliet. A classic. And one that would undoubtedly bring praise if executed perfectly. It had to be perfect.

He ran a hand through his sleek black hair, exhaling sharply as he watched James Potter—Hogwarts' most infuriating Gryffindor—practicing his lines with Lily Evans, who was supposed to play Juliet.

James had, of course, gotten the role of Romeo. There was never any question. Not only did he have a natural charisma that drew in an audience, but he also wanted to be Romeo because Lily was cast as Juliet. Regulus had rolled his eyes when James had given his half-sincere audition, mostly showing off for her. But as much as it pained him to admit it, James was good. Very good.

Lily, on the other hand, had been struggling with the role. Though she was dedicated, she seemed less and less invested in playing Juliet, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Regulus.

Regulus had chosen Romeo and Juliet because it was his favorite. He’d been obsessed with the story since he was young, the tragic romance captivating his imagination. And now, with the parents of nearly every student coming to see it, including his parents, it was crucial that the performance be flawless. Walburga Black had expectations. And failing to meet them wasn’t an option.

“Alright, everyone, positions!” Regulus called, snapping everyone to attention.

The cast scrambled into place, and Regulus sighed as he heard Sirius complaining to Remus in the background about his costume. Sirius, naturally, had been cast as Mercutio, and his flair for dramatics seemed to shine brighter than ever. Remus, always patient, was Tybalt. Peter was cast as Benvolio, and Evan Rosier, who Regulus trusted to take the play seriously, had taken on the role of Paris.

Everything was in order. Well, mostly.

That was until Lily approached him right before the next rehearsal with a pained look on her face.

"Regulus, I’m so sorry," she began, wringing her hands. "But I can’t do the play. Something’s come up—family stuff. I have to drop out."

Regulus’s heart dropped into his stomach. "What?!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "Lily, we open in three days. You can't drop out now!"

"I know, I know! But there's no way around it," she said, looking genuinely regretful. "I’m really sorry, Reg. But—look, you know all the lines. You could play Juliet."

Regulus stared at her, incredulous. "Me? Play Juliet? Are you out of your mind?"

Lily gave him a half-smile. "You know you’d do it better than anyone else. You’ve been correcting all of us on our lines since day one. Besides, it’s not like we can pull someone else in this late. You’ve been obsessed with this play for months. You’re the only one who knows the part well enough to step in."

Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but she wasn’t wrong. He did know the lines. He’d practically memorized the entire script. But standing on stage as Juliet? Acting opposite James Potter?

"Fine," he said after a moment, his tone clipped. "But you are going to explain this to everyone, especially Potter."

Lily grinned. "Deal."

---

When rehearsal resumed later that day, there was chaos in the auditorium as Lily made her announcement that she had to drop out. James looked like he was about to combust.

"What do you mean you’re dropping out?!" James exclaimed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Who the hell is going to play Juliet?!"

Regulus cleared his throat, stepping forward. "I am."

James stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. "You?"

"Yes, me," Regulus said with an eye roll. "I know the lines better than anyone, and no one else can step in on such short notice."

James blinked, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Well, well, well. This just got a lot more interesting."

"Don’t get any ideas, Potter," Regulus warned, narrowing his eyes. "We are doing this by the book."

---

The day of the play arrived sooner than anyone expected, and nerves buzzed in the dressing rooms backstage. Regulus had spent the last few days perfecting his performance, pushing the cast harder than ever, making sure every cue, every line was impeccable. The pressure was mounting, and his heart pounded as the audience started to fill in—the sound of parents, professors, and students murmuring filling the air. Somewhere out there, his mother and father were waiting.

He was dressed in an elaborate gown—classic for the role of Juliet, and admittedly quite beautiful. His hair was styled perfectly, the makeup enhancing his already sharp features, giving him the delicate appearance of a tragic heroine. He hated to admit it, but he looked the part. More than that, he felt the part. Juliet had always fascinated him—the depth of her love, her resolve in the face of her family’s demands. Regulus could relate more than he would ever admit aloud.

Standing offstage, waiting for his entrance, Regulus allowed himself a moment of reflection. He hadn’t told James he would be playing Juliet during their scenes together. He wanted it to be a surprise—or perhaps he was simply too nervous to deal with Potter’s reaction.

And then, it was time.

The scene: the Capulet masquerade ball. The lights dimmed as the music swelled, casting an ethereal glow over the stage. James, as Romeo, wandered through the crowd of actors, his gaze searching for his Juliet. He didn’t know it yet, but she was closer than he thought.

Regulus stepped onto the stage, his heart pounding as he moved through the crowd. His eyes locked onto James from across the room. For a moment, time seemed to stop. James, masked and dressed in his elaborate costume, turned, and their gazes met.

Recognition flickered in James’s eyes, but it wasn’t until Regulus stepped closer, the light catching his face, that realization dawned.

“Regulus?” James whispered, his voice barely audible.

But they were on stage now, and Regulus couldn’t falter. He tilted his head, giving a small, knowing smile. “Romeo.”

There was a beat of silence before James responded, falling into character seamlessly despite the shock. They moved closer, the dialogue flowing between them, charged with an unexpected energy. The rest of the cast melted into the background as Romeo and Juliet met under the enchantment of the ball, and the audience watched with bated breath.

And then, the moment came.

The kiss.

Regulus’s heart raced as he stepped closer, and before he could second-guess himself, James leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft but electric kiss. The crowd murmured in awe, the chemistry undeniable. It was supposed to be an act—a kiss between Romeo and Juliet. But for Regulus, the lines between acting and reality blurred for just a moment. He pulled back, his breath shallow, and for a split second, he could swear that James looked at him with something other than performance in his eyes.

They continued the scene, and by the time the curtain fell on the first act, Regulus’s mind was spinning. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected any of it.

And as the applause roared around them, James leaned close, his breath warm against Regulus's ear as he whispered, "You should have told me you’d be Juliet. I might’ve actually practiced that kiss."

Regulus flushed, but the hint of a smirk played on his lips as he replied, "Next time, Potter. Keep your surprises to yourself."

But something had changed, and as they prepared for the next act, Regulus couldn’t shake the feeling that this play had taken on a whole new meaning.

[chaos-has-theories]

Hunith leaned on her rake and watched as the car swerved into the driveway. It had barely come to a halt when the passenger door opened and Gwen climbed out. She looked tense. She was also drenched from head to toe. The hem of her jeans sagged, the rest of it looked damp and clammy. Her shirt must have dried during the drive home, but it had bits of seaweed stuck to it. Her hair was eighty percent frizz. When she saw Hunith at the fence, Gwen smiled unconvincingly, and sped towards her house just slow enough that it couldn’t be called a run. The driver’s door slammed loudly and Arthur came stomping around the car. He looked no better than Gwen: If anything, he was wetter than she had been. He didn’t even grab anything from the trunk, much less wait until he could lock the car. He just marched into the house and slammed that door behind him, too. Just as Hunith thought that scene couldn’t get any stranger, the back door opened and her son climbed out. The greeting died on her lips before it could escape. Merlin looked like a storm warning. Hunched shoulders, pursed lips, flashing eyes - oh, and he was wearing a dress. Not even a good dress. It was an oversized grey monstrosity and looked like it came from the garbage bin of a secondhand store. It was definitely not one of Hunith’s. Merlin had bunched it up at the hips in at attempt not to stumble over the long skirts, and he stomped past her and into the house with no sign that he had seen his mother at all. She could hear him all the way up the stairs, and then the slam of his bedroom door. Alright then. All the noise must have roused Gaius from his afternoon nap. He stuck his head out the door, looking exactly as bewildered as Hunith felt. „Was that Merlin?“, he asked. Hunith nodded. “And... a wig?” Another nod. „Hm.“ With a final puzzled look up the stairs, Gaius retreated to his study. Hunith turned back just in time to see Mordred clambering out like the smallest clown in the clown car. He was dry and dressed normally, but he was wearing an expression of utter defeat. With his towel held in front of him like a terrycloth shield he walked towards Hunith as if he’d much rather write a difficult math test. He dithered at the gate for a moment, and then met Hunith’s gaze only to sigh the world-weariest sigh she had ever heard. (Which was saying something. Hunith had lived with Gaius for most of her life, and would have previously named him world champion of sighing. Somehow this was still the most normal thing that had happened in the past ten minutes.) „My dads will pick me up in a few minutes“, Mordred told her morosely. „Can I wait here?“ „Of course“ Hunith hurried to say. „Do you want something to drink? Bal made cookies, if you want any. They’re in the kitchen.“ Mordred gave the door Merlin had stormed through a long, dubious look. „I think I’d rather wait out here.“ „Alright.“ Hunith watched as he settled himself on the doorstep, towel in his lap. With a deliberately casual air she picked up the shovel and continued weeding. „I probably don’t even want to know“ she said conversationally, „but what exactly happened at the lake?“ The child behind her made a noise like an upset mouse. „I don’t know“, he whined. „Merlin doesn’t tell me anything.“ Hunith looked over her shoulder to see Mordred scuff at the earth with his shoes, a frustrated expression on his face. „But I had to help Merlin put on a costume and Gwen and Arthur fell into the water and they both cried and everyone shouted and I think they broke up.“ „I see“, Hunith said faintly. That would fit with what she’d seen, but - she’d thought Gwen had broken up with Arthur a week ago? And anyway, none of this explained the costume, or really anything, but she’d decided to ignore that for now. „I’m sorry that happened. It sounds uncomfortable.“ „I’m sorry it happened too.“

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 14 — Doc!

Featuring both a current-day s10 doc and a verrry early s8 post-deviant doc! :]

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

[zaynes-left-chesticle]

Okay I just read Zayne's "Still in Dark" anecdote, and now I'm crying and also my jaW IS ON THE GROUND, WHAT IN THE FUC-

----

enjoy the tags, I just needed to vent....

And I'm scared 🤣

[spaceratprodigy]

✏ WIP Whenever ✏

Thank you for the tags @captastra @darkfire1177 @the-lastcall @hibernationsuit 💖💕

Haven't been working on too much personal art lately so not many new things to share

Have a lil sneaky peeky at these tiny sketches for the next few faith and max smoochy prompts in my ask box tho :]

open tag to anyone who wants to jump in!

[triglycercule]

triglycercule..

STOP I HAVENT FINISHED MY THANK YOU ART FOR THE FIRST BUNDLE OF JK AU DRAWINGS YOU SENT ME AND NOW YOURE GIVING ME THE FULL VERSION OF THE FOURTH ON E??? 🙁🙁‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️🙏🙏😭😭😭😭 THEH LOOK SO CUTE AND ADORABLE ANS PERFECT YOU DRAW THEM SO WELL I LOVE THE GRAYSCALE LOOK AND SEEINF THEM WITH LEGS THIS TIME IS SOOO CUTE I LOVE SEEING LEGWARMERS I M GENUINELY TEEKING GEEKING DYING IM SO THANKFUL FOR THIS‼️‼️‼️!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE A LEDGEND YIUR A GOD YOUR EVERYTHING THST THE WORLD NEEDED IM SO HAOPY SOMEONE DREW THE JK MTT I DIDN'T EVEN PUT THST MUCH EFFORT INTO IT.,,,,,.... theyre so happy they make ME so happy AND ASIDE FROM THST YOURE ACTUALLY SO GOOD AT ART THOUGH THIS IS JUST A sketch PROBABLY. clothing folds 🤤🤤🤤🤤 expressions 🤤🤤🤤🤤 hahhnds 🤤🤤🤤🤤 why do i feel like i shouldve see this artstyle from someone before. who are you gshaewru. what type of name is thatHUH??? NTBE TYPE OF NAMR AN AMAZING PERSON WOULD HAVE FOR THEIR UMBLR ACCOUNT YOURE SO AMAZING PLEASE DON'T DIE. ok but again thank you so much for the jk!mtt art i've never been more overjoyed in my life this is like a blessing from the gods themselves for me. NOBODY KNOWS HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME

[ollylotl]

I WANT TO HEAR YOUR DAKOTA N VYNCENT THOUGHTS SO BAD please tell me about them.....

oooh dakota and vyncent…, where do i start. i warn you i don't normally do like. character analysis writing type posts? so please excuse if it's bad.

they have perhaps the most strained relationship out of the prime defenders. but that's not necessarily a bad thing. it's really compelling. they're very similar but also very different at the same time. and maybe this is why they can sort of grate against each other sometimes, but is also why they are such good friends who can rely on each other.

vyncent grew up living a life that, while not necessarily comfortable, he was familiar with. he was happy and he had a support system in the greats and his parents. that got ripped away from him very suddenly and he got dropped in the deep end of a world entirely unfamiliar. meanwhile dakota (from after his parents death onwards) had a very difficult childhood. he spent many years without a support system - his parents gone, his aunt struggling herself and not able to care for him as he needs. but he's had time to learn to deal with that. rockfall/new haven is where he's grown up, and he knows it like the back of his hand. so they're both struggling but like in opposite ways? where vyncent has been okay for most of his life but now he hasn't had a chance to adjust, while dakota's been going through it for longer but that means he's been able to adjust and is familiar with the rules of this world.

they also have opposite ways of coping with bad things / tackling their problems. dakota shuts down. vyncent lashes out. dakota is determined to never take a life. vyncent comes from a world where fighting to the death is normal. dakota not only trusts, but idolises heroes. vyncent has been nothing but let down by them and doesn't trust them at all.

i think about that scene in season 1 so much where they're at mark's house, and tide has been taken, and dakota's just shut down. vyncent starts yelling at him because he's lost everything he had in this world and can't afford to just stop like that. it's just the perfect example of how their opposite experiences and coping mechanisms cause them to clash.

more extremely, when william gets killed. dakota completely breaks down, while vyncent starts attacking even more furiously. then vyncent is like. almost pleading (? you could say? not sure if thats the word) with dakota to just get up and fight because he can't do this alone. he can't do this without dakota. he couldn't have done any of this without dakota.

but in perhaps the more simple ways, they're quite alike. they're the epitome of dumb teenage boys. i mean, they'll just break into a duet on the train. they goof off together - the shopping cart race, that one scene in the gym in season one.

so. like. they lean on each other. they both don't have much to rely on. but they have each other. i think vyncent was probably, even if its a large part subconsicous, feeling betrayed when dakota left over the s1-2 timeskip. likewise how dakota felt betrayed over the bino and mark thing / mal amulet / belltech, etc. etc. but they stick together. no matter what they go through they get out of it, and they get out of it together.

so. okay apologies for taking so long to say so little. essentially what i like most about dakota and vyncent's friendship is that duality of relying on each other both out of necessity and because they're the only ones who really get each other, and also having the energy of like. "hey bro how many slices of pizza can i fit in my mouth at once. hey bro bet you cant backflip off of this building. hey bro let's do a karaoke duet of breaking free from high school musical"

as vyncent himself said in late season 2. they're brothers. (falls over and sobs)

[witchkingfromthe1600s]

Plwease consider Belos having his “oh fuck I’m the bad guy” moment and IMMEDIATELY THE GG ghosts/hallucinations start dunking on him

It's funny you say this cause he does in fact have a break down after finally having it click in his brain. And you know what happens when old man Phil experiences intense emotions!

BIG GOOP MONSTER COMES OUT

Goes a bit crazy, a bit cooky, the rage goes over into sorrow and my dude just kinda passes out due to exhaustion after his temper tantrum.

And then he dreams, but this time it's a LOT more worse than usual.

So yea , you're pretty spot on with that idea lol