#that’s a fun little fact that tore my heart out

[thenameisgul]

I woke up with a deep ache in my heart thinking about how Cas rebelled and fell from heaven, lost his entire family and purpose, spent 12 years pining for dean from afar,

spent the last few months fighting with Dean and thinking he was a burden, an obstacle, the thing that always goes wrong

and then died believing that his true happiness is always only going to be in accepting the fact that he loves his bestfriend who will never seem him as anything more

Season 15 the devastation that you are

[daxisyzz]

Let me hurt a little longer

Pairings: Bucky Barnes × immortal!reader

Summary: You’re the new recruit. Immortal. Fast-healing. Untouchable—unless you let yourself linger in pain long enough for his hands to hold you there. Bucky Barnes doesn’t know you’re already healing beneath his blood-soaked grip. And you don’t tell him. Just to feel his touch longer.

Word count: 891

Warnings and tags: mentions of bleeding, wounds, blasts, cocky reader, caring Bucky

A/n: clearing out my drafts.. wrote this like a month ago and forgot abt it hehe.

Inspired by a reel by @Dolores.zsiga on instagram.

You hit the ground hard enough to crack concrete.

The shrapnel tore through your side like butter. Should’ve knocked you out. Should’ve stopped your heart.

Instead, you grin through the blood coating your teeth.

The alley’s spinning when footsteps thunder toward you. You don’t need to look to know who it is. The stomp is all Winter Soldier panic—controlled chaos, barely leashed.

“Where is she?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse in your comm. “Where the hell is she?!”

You close your eyes and wait.

Five… four…His shadow falls over you just before “three.”

“Shit.” He drops beside you with a sound that’s almost a growl. “Hey—hey, look at me.”

You crack an eye open. “Took you long enough, Barnes.”

“Jesus Christ.” He brushes hair out of your face, hands already slick with blood. “Don’t talk. You’re losing too much.”

“You think this is me quiet?”

He glares. “I’m not kidding.”

Neither are you—but you do like the view from down here. Bucky’s crouched over you like you’re something fragile. Like one wrong move will break you in half. You like the way his hands tremble when they press into your side, trying to stop the bleeding.

He doesn’t know it’s already stopped.Well. It’s trying to.

You’re slowing it on purpose. Keeping the wound open. Keeping his hands on you.Because damn—he’s warm.

“You’re okay,” he mutters, as if saying it will make it true. He leans over you, breath brushing your cheek, hands steadying against your ribs as he applies pressure. “Just hold on. Med team’s close.”

“You’re real bossy when you care,” you murmur.

“I’m not—” He cuts himself off. “You’re on my team.”

“Didn’t know you held all your teammates like this.” You raise a brow, lips curling despite the blood. “Should I be jealous?”

He looks like he wants to yell and shake you and hold you tighter, all at once.

“Shut up,” he grits. “Don’t do this. You’re—bleeding out, you smartass—”

You hum, eyes half-lidded. “You’re so serious when you’re scared. It’s kind of hot.”

His fingers tighten. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh, Bucky,” you sigh, “if I listed all the things, we’d be here all day.”

He presses harder into the wound and your breath stutters—not from pain, but from the way he curses softly under his breath like he’s the one breaking.

His hands are slick, shaking. Tender.

Your body’s already trying to stitch itself back together. But you hold it off.

You want more of this.

More of his touch.

More of him.

Then he notices it—the blood isn’t pooling as fast. The color’s already starting to return to your skin.

He goes still. Eyes narrow.

“What the—”

“Fun fact,” you say sweetly, “I don’t die easy.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

“I heal,” you say with a cheeky grin. “Fast. Like, ‘this would’ve killed a normal person ten minutes ago’ fast.”

He stares at you, hand still hovering over the now-closing wound. “You’re kidding.”

“Cross my heart.” You wink. “Which you were cradling, by the way. Awfully romantic of you.”

“You let me think you were dying.”

“You grabbed me like you’d break if I slipped away. I wasn’t gonna ruin the moment.”

His mouth opens. Closes. He looks furious. He looks wrecked.

“You—” His voice is rough. “You’re—insane.”

“Maybe.” You sit up, your shirt clinging to drying blood. “But you like it.”

He glares at you, jaw tight. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You stand, steady on your feet. “You’ll live.”

He looks you up and down, gaze lingering on your now mostly-healed side. “You’re trouble.”

You smirk. “And you’ve got a type.”

He grabs your arm before you can turn, voice lower now. “Next time, tell me. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

You lean in, close enough to smell gunpowder and adrenaline. “Next time, kiss me first. Then we’ll talk honesty.”

He freezes. You grin wider.

You walk ahead, hips swaying with mischief, and Bucky stays frozen behind you, blood drying on his gloves, heart still lodged somewhere in his throat.

You’re healing right before his eyes—wound vanishing like it never happened. And yet, the imprint of you beneath his hands lingers like a burn.

You let him panic. Let him hold you. Let him feel for you.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

And goddammit, it should piss him off more than it does.

But instead?

His jaw clenches. His pulse stutters.

And something under his ribs twists sharply.

Because it’s not just the way you survived—smirking through pain like it was a game—it’s how you looked at him while doing it. Like you could see right through the hard edge he hides behind. Like you weren’t afraid. Like you enjoyed it.

Like you knew he’d catch you if you fell.He watches you go, sunlight glinting off blood-streaked skin, your laugh still in his ears.

That attitude should be dangerous.

And it is.

It’s lethal.

He mutters a curse under his breath, lips twitching against his will.

He’s so fucked.

You're chaos wrapped in a pretty grin. Trouble in a bloodstained uniform.

And he's already falling.

Hard.

Whether you slow your healing next time or not—he knows damn well he’s going to be right there again.

Hands on you.

Heart on the line.

And this time?

He’s not sure he’ll want to let go.

[psformybss]

could write smthn ab actress reader n drew going to f1, n drew myb getting a little jealous at the drivers obviously trying to charm her

No Overtaking Allowed

drew starkey x actress!reader

a/n: ngl this is not my best work. i also dont know much about f1 so all of the information in here was provided by my boyfriend and google so im sorry if something is wrong 😭

The sun spilled like molten gold over the Monaco harbor, turning the water into something unreal. Everything shimmered. The air buzzed with salt, champagne, and the kind of money that made your teeth ache if you looked at it too long. You stood on the private terrace of a luxury suite above the famous street circuit, arms loosely crossed, trying not to let the glamor make your eyes roll too far back in your head.

“I feel underdressed,” you muttered, watching a woman glide by in head-to-toe Dior, balancing a tiny espresso in one hand and a Yorkie in the other like it was nothing.

Drew stood behind you, sunglasses pushed into his hair, hands tucked in his pockets like he wasn’t currently surrounded by some of the richest people on Earth. “You’re wearing custom Louis Vuitton.”

“Exactly. Custom. Someone had to design me into this setting. That woman just woke up and manifested wealth.”

He laughed, warm and low. “You look incredible.”

You turned your head just enough to glance at him. “Don’t try to distract me with compliments.”

“I’m not distracting. I’m stating facts.”

“Mm. Convenient how your facts always make me feel hotter.”

“That’s just science, babe.”

You gave a short laugh and leaned against the railing. Below, the circuit looked impossibly narrow, like a dare wrapped in steel and asphalt. Pit crews and media buzzed around the grid, the last few minutes of calm before the thunder.

“Remind me again why we’re pretending this is safe?” you asked.

Drew moved closer until his arm brushed yours. “Because pretending is more fun.”

“You say that like someone who’s never had a tire fly at their head.”

“I mean, not yet.”

“You’re unbearable.”

“That’s what keeps it spicy.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek. You didn’t lean away.

The sound of engines building swallowed any reply. Your gaze snapped downward as the cars lined up. One by one, the lights went out and the start exploded in a rush of sound and velocity. They tore through Sainte Devote like missiles.

“Two-stop rule this year,” you said over the roar. “Love that they tried to manufacture excitement with tire math.”

Drew tilted his head. “The what rule?”

You smiled. “Two mandatory pit stops. They’re hoping it’ll force more strategy, maybe shake up the order. It’s Monaco though, so basically still a parade.”

Drew smirked. “You know way too much about this.”

“It’s called having hobbies.”

He squinted at the screen overhead. “Which car is ours again?”

You laughed. “We don’t have one, babe. We’re neutral spectators. But if you mean who I’d pick—Ferrari, obviously.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “Because… the red’s fast?”

“They’re not even leading this season.”

“But they look good?”

You gave him a look. “That’s like saying a guy’s a good actor because he’s tall.”

“…Okay, I deserved that.”

You smiled, eyes flicking back to the screen. When one of the Ferraris clipped the barrier near the tunnel, you flinched and Drew’s arm circled your waist.

“You good?”

“Heart’s racing.”

He tilted closer. “Mine too. Though that might just be you.”

You snorted, resting your hand over his. For a while, neither of you said much. Just watched.

When the checkered flag waved and the crowd roared for Lando Norris, you let out a low whistle.

“Well,” you said. “Guess I owe someone a drink. Again.”

“Told you he was due.”

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“Sure I do. It’s like betting. Eventually the guy has to win.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re here.”

Drew beamed like he’d just won a bet.

The paddock buzzed with post-race chaos. Photographers darted through teams, glittering PR reps barked into headsets, and mechanics began the slow teardown. You and Drew walked side by side, fingers brushing.

You were halfway to hospitality when someone called out.

“Drew?”

You turned just as Anya Taylor-Joy appeared, somehow untouched by the oppressive heat and humidity. She looked impossibly cool in a flowing white dress and oversized sunglasses, not a single strand of hair out of place.

She pulled Drew into a quick hug before turning to you with a grin.

“And my favorite person.”

You smirked. “You only say that because I promised you early access to the new Knives Out movie.”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock betrayal. “How dare you accuse me of being both manipulative and correct.”

Drew let out a quiet laugh beside you. “She’s got a point.”

You turned to him with a raised brow. “Whose side are you on?”

“Whoever brings snacks to the screening,” he said, deadpan.

Anya nodded approvingly. “See, this is why I like him.”

The banter flowed easily, the three of you falling into a familiar rhythm. You’d met Anya a few times on set visits, and always appreciated her quick wit and easy charm. Drew stood comfortably between you both, that relaxed glint in his eye that only showed up when he wasn’t on.

A few minutes later, you glanced toward the crowd and took a step back. “I think I’m gonna wander a bit.”

Drew looked over, brow furrowing. “You sure? We just got here.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I just need to move. People-watch. Breathe a little.”

He studied you for a beat. “Stay close.”

“I’ll be in yelling distance,” you promised, already easing into the flow of the crowd.

“Text me if anyone gives you a hard time,” he called after you.

You tossed a smirk over your shoulder. “Only if it’s a pack of wild drivers. Or Cate Blanchett.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile lingered. “Noted.”

You wandered toward one of the temporary bars. The crowd had thinned a little, but the energy was still thick. It wasn’t long before someone stepped into your path.

“Excuse me,” a British voice said. “I hope this isn’t weird, but were you in Glass Onion?”

You turned and found yourself face to face with a tall driver, hair damp from his helmet, smile confident but not too polished.

“Yeah,” you said, surprised. “That was me.”

“I knew it. You were brilliant. I watched it on a flight last month.”

Another driver appeared beside him. Shorter, blond, with that unmistakable grin you’d seen a dozen times during podium interviews.

“You were in Anyone But You too, right?”

“Guilty.”

“Love that movie. Got me through a breakup, honestly.”

“Then you have great taste in both film and emotional survival.”

He laughed and extended a hand. “I’m Oscar.”

The first one added, “And I’m Lando. Big fans.”

“Well I would be wrong if I said I didn’t know who you guys were already” you said

You shook both hands, cheeks warming a little. The conversation stayed light. They asked where you were from, how long you were in Monaco. You mentioned your love for the sport, and Lando perked up.

“You follow F1, then?”

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve got a soft spot for the older races—Senna, Prost, Schumacher. But the new kids are growing on me.”

Oscar laughed. “Even Lando?”

“I tolerate him,” you teased.

Lando gave a mock-wounded look. “Harsh.”

“Well, if your boyfriend ditches you again, we’d be happy to give you the grand tour.”

You raised a brow. “Oh? Do all the grand tours include flirting or is that a special Monaco feature?”

Lando smirked. “Only when the guests are movie stars.”

Before you could fire back, a familiar voice cut in.

“She’s not stranded.”

You turned as Drew appeared beside you, one hand already slipping around your waist. His smile was tight, eyes sharp beneath the sunglasses. He didn’t look at you first—he looked at Lando.

“I just got caught up for a minute.”

Lando nodded, clearly sensing the shift. “Lucky guy.”

Drew’s hand flexed at your waist. “Luckier than they know.”

Oscar lifted a hand. “See you around.”

You waited until they walked away before looking up at Drew.

“That was subtle.”

He looked down at you, brows drawn just slightly. “You were trying to disappear.”

“I was being polite.”

“And they were flirting.”

“Little bit.”

“You were smiling.”

“They were charming.”

He gave you a look. “You’re not allowed to know that much about racing and be hot. It’s too dangerous.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Jealous?”

“Not even pretending I’m not.”

“Relax. I’ve got a soft spot for actors who learn what a chicane is just to impress me.”

“Is that what I’m doing now?”

You smiled. “Trying very hard.”

You kissed him, slow and certain. The paddock faded out around you. Just for a second.

When you pulled back, he didn’t even try to hide his grin.

“You ever going to get tired of kissing me in public?”

“Not if you keep showing up right on time.”

He slid his fingers between yours and pulled you gently toward the exit.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go celebrate. And the fact that I didn’t actually have to fight anyone today.”

“Yet,” you said.

He grinned. “Yet.”

You walked together through the Monaco chaos, golden light painting everything around you. And for once, all that noise felt quiet. Just for the two of you.

taglist: @wuluhwuhmaster

[kelstey]

mattheo riddle ☆ confess

mattheo riddle x reader

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

he hadnt taken his eyes off of you once.

mattheo's gaze lingered on you the whole time you were on the dance floor, not going unnoticed by you. you continued to grind against some random gryffindor, acting oblivious to mattheo's death stare.

less aimed at you, more at the boy who clearly got too excited. mattheo tried to control the urge to absolutely tear him apart then and there but he couldn't. he didn't fancy getting into trouble.

it was even worse that you were wearing a slightly provocative dress - mattheo didn't mind, he could fight. but he did mjnd the fact that someone else's hands were all over you, not his.

you felt grossed out as the gryffindor's hands trailed down your body, wishing they were mattheos as his touch was the only thing you craved.

mattheo finally tore his eyes away from the scene, going over to the drinks table to join his other slytherin friends.

"when are you going to tell her?" enzo asked as he noticed mattheo's arrival.

"what?" mattheo looked at enzo confused.

"don't act stupid, you're in love with the damn girl. you do realise she's one of the most beautiful

- if not most beautiful girl in hogwarts, and other guys are most definitely plotting," enzo sipped the torturous alcohol mixed punch.

"what if she doesn't feel the same way?" mattheo said before taking a shot of vodka, the burn of the liquor tore down his throat.

"don't be silly. you both look at each other like you're the only other people in the world, everyone can see it. but id hurry cause looks like that boy she's dancing with has some other plans," enzo motioned his head to where you were dancing up against a boy.

mattheo's jaw clenched as the other boys hands made their way around your body, a desperate look in his eyes along with a clear bulge as your ass grinded on him.

without thinking, mattheo walked over to you, ripping you away from the boy. "mattheo what the fuck?!" you slurred.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asked as he held your arm.

"having fun, what else does it look like?" you replied.

"really? cause i can see the disgust in your face as you dance on this twat," mattheo said angrily.

"what's your deal? it's not like we're dating," you said. what you didn't realise is that those words felt like multiple stabs going through his heart.

he knew you weren't dating, of course. the two of you were just best friends who clearly had feelings for each other but were far too stubborn to ever admit it.

"fine, be like that then," mattheo said and let go of you before storming off.

a week had passed since that party, an awkward tension laid amongst your friend group every time the two of you were there that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

neither of you had spoken a word to each other, once again your stubbornness and pride were both far too high to break the no contact.

"for fucks sake! cant the two of you just make up?" draco threw his hands up in the air. the boys were all having a discussion in the slytherin common room about the whole situation between you and mattheo.

"no way, if she wants to speak to me, she can speak to me. i am not talking to her," mattheo rolled his eyes.

"the two of you are literally two little kids, grow up and get over it," blaise added in.

"i agree, mattheo you have no problem getting with other girls so why is it so hard for you to do that with her?" draco said.

mattheo pondered for a bit. why was it so hard? maybe due to the fact that he was purely and utterly in love with you compared to the other girls in hogwarts who were really only used for his pleasure.

"see! you not speaking says so much, get a grip and tell her," blaise said.

"suck my dick," mattheo said before storming off to go to the black lake. he liked the peace; and even better that it was raining so no other students were likely to be there.

apart from you of course. you were sat feeding a squirrel with some trail mix you had in your bag. you were slumped at the bottom of a tree, reading peacefully before spotting a red squirrel.

it made its way over to you and you remembered the mixed nuts you had. you were in awe of the small creature, how it had no fear being cradled in your hand as you fed it.

a twig snapped which scared the squirrel and it ran off. "are you fucking joking me?" you stood up and turned to the source of the noise.

and of course mattheo was stood there. "what are you doing here?" he asked.

"i wanted some peace and quiet," you mumbled before picking up your book and tote bag, ready to leave.

"what's your problem?" mattheo stepped in your way before you could walk past him.

"you!" you shoved his chest and he stumbled back.

"me? right, and what have i done?" he raised his voice.

you grew frustrated, you didn't actually have much of a problem with mattheo. and it didn't help that he looked amazing as the rain soaked his hair and part of his shirt, just enough for you to see his toned abs.

"you know what you've done!" you raised your voice back, you didn't give a reasoning due to the fact you didn't have one, of course you could not lose this argument.

"yeah? why don't you tell me then?" mattheo walked up to you, his large frame towering over you.

"just get out of my head! fuck! every single day you're just there, and i can't help but think of you all the time. do you know how annoying it is seeing you have a new girl sit on your lap almost every time we eat at the great hall? how you want every girl in hogwarts but me? cant you see i fucking love you mattheo?" you shouted, tears welling in your eyes from the overly raw emotions and the fact you just poured your heart out to him.

"so you think ignoring me is going to solve the problem?" mattheo asked.

"yes - no - i don't know?! i want to stop loving you but i can't! i've loved you since second year and i always will!" you confessed.

"what the fuck? i've loved you since second year!" mattheo confessed back.

"then why the fuck aren't you doing anything about it?" you questioned. your question was quickly answered when mattheo grabbed your face and pulled you in. his lips smashed onto yours and things quickly escalated into a very intense make out session.

the anger and annoyance you had from the past week quickly disappeared, you couldn't help but now feel completed and happy. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. mattheo's hands snaked around your waist, somehow getting you even closer.

the two of you broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"why didn't you do that sooner?" you asked.

"i'm doing it now, and i think that's all that matters."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[thebluester2020]

Minors Do Not Interact Plz

I usually write Elliot being an absolute munch on the farmer, but let's reverse the roles a little.

Imagine the reader being wayyy too good at sucking cock, specifically Elliot's. Like to the point where the man believes he should pay you for your skill at this point.

And he would've never expected it either, especially with how you were so sweet-hearted to everyone around you, goodness, he didn't even think you so much as cursed! You were the definition of an angel, both in attitude and looks. The very fact that you went out of your way to greet him every day, bring him gifts when you were able, and just in general brought an extra spark of happiness to his otherwise mundane lifestyle. It was a blessing, something to look forward to each time he rolled out of bed in the morning.

But...when you two finally started dating? And eventually, got to the stage where you two were beginning to become intimate with one another? You'd best believe that he was totally shocked (pleasantly so, of course) at your skill at sucking a man's dick, stealing the breath right from his lungs.

. . .

"O-Ohhhh Yoba...fuck..." Elliot whined, his hand tangling itself itself in his hair whilst his other one tangled in your hair as he was currently laying down on your bed. Lewd slurping noises could be heard from in between his thighs as you drooled all over his dick, a faint pink dusting your cheeks as you focused your tongue on his tip whilst your hands both stroked his cock and played with his balls.

You giggled, your voice sounding like a siren that had successfully captured its prey to the writer. "Y' enjoying this Elliot~?" You giggled before pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of his cock. His cock twitched at the action, Elliot having to blink away tears of absolute ecstasy to focus his vision on you as he drowsily attempted to lift his head. "Y-Yeah—Yoba...o-oh fuck!" As soon as he confirmed his enjoyment of your treatment, your lips were back on him again. The taste of your lover's salty pre-cum addicting to your senses as you placed both of your hands on his thighs before you began to deep-throat him.

His toes curled as a loud cry left his swollen lips, reddened from his attempts to bite back his noises when you started earlier. "Y-Yoba...my love, y-you're—oh!" Tears of pleasure began to stream down his face in earnest when you began to hum around his length, slowly bobbing your head up and down as your spit began to trickle down to his balls, your earlier playing with them making them more sensitive as he felt them draw up to his body in a visible sign that he was close. Yet, he couldn't tell if he wanted to cum or not, your throat felt too good around his dick. To the point, it easily reduced him to tears and confused begging, a mixture of him wanting you to slow down so he could enjoy your mouth a little bit longer and begging for you to hurry up and make him cum!

"You're so cute Elliot~" You giggled, licking a long trail up the sensitive underside of his cock before you began to tease his tip with the tip of your finger. Pre-cum bubbled at the slit of his cock, dribbling down the side as his thighs twitched around you. He nearly came on the spot when he blinked away his tears to see you looking up at him through hooded eyes, the darkness of your pupils nearly taking over the color of your eye. "Y' wanna cum~?" You asked.

He nodded his head, his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulped.

You had a mind to tease him a little more with how honest he was being buuutttt...as you placed the palm of your hand against his tip and began to massage him, the shakey, drawn-out whine that tore from his throat was far more fun to hear. "M-My love—w-wait—"

"Wait?" You tilted your head incredulously. "But you just said you wanted to cum! Be a good boy and hold still, my feather." Your lips quickly returned to his cock as you began kissing down his shaft all the way until you reached his balls. The feeling of your hot mouth sucking his balls whilst the palm of your hand viciously massaged his leaking tip was almost too much to bear as Elliot threw his head back to let out a scream of pleasure. Untouched, you reached your orgasm as well as the combined sound of Elliot's whine and the sight of his cock twitching madly at his orgasm, your fluids leaking down your thighs.

When your husband began to weakly push at your hand however, whining in overstimulation. You immediately stopped with a smirk.

There was nothing more pleasing to the eye than seeing your usually composed husband flushed and panting like a dog in heat, all because you tended to his cock!

[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the bond she had held tightly to her chest known now by Cassian, she fights for her own life alongside Azriel. 

Word Count: 3,069

Warnings: ANGST, violence, dark themes, self-mutilation?, some fluff

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk anddd I am so grateful for everything you have all said about this little series of mine. It’s something I wanted to start up just for fun and so many of you have left me such kind words about it. I’m planning on this being the last part. I might follow up with a little epilogue of sorts if there is any interest in that! I do have some plans for different one shots I’ll be getting into soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

---

Now

“He’s what?” Cassian went wide eyed. He was covered in dirt and blood. His hair, which was once tucked neatly into a bun, had pieces falling that framed his distressed face.

“You heard me Cass,” I quickly sucked in shakily, not believing I had finally admitted it. Admitted it to fucking Cassian of all people. 

Cassian’s face softened and his eyebrows knit. He slowly started to lean down to check his brother’s injuries when the ground started to shake around us, and a booming noise followed suite. The battlefield was only getting messier. A sense of urgency pricked his face.

“Fuck,” he stood, “It’s Nesta.” He looked between Azriel’s form and my own as I still held the injury, I had delt myself. There was conflict covering his face. He was not able to hide his emotions.

“Go Cass,” I said even though my heart spiked at my own words. A fear, the same fear of being abandoned flooded my chest, overwhelming the aching mating bond that usually held itself there. “She needs help more than we do, now that we’re healing. Go.” I spoke these words even though I was unsure if I was healing fast enough.

“Be safe, keep each other alive. I’ll be back.” Cassian said simply, his face hardening as he stood. He leaped from the ground, his great wings taking him into the sky. Red flashed across the sky as he followed the booming. The ground shook again as he took off.

A groan sounded behind me stopping my heart dead in its tracks.

I turned as quickly as my body could manage without throwing myself back down. My hand found the side of Azriel’s face as he began to stir. I kneeled in front of him and I stroked my thumb down his cheek as the bond in my chest thrummed with anticipation and anxiety.

“Az,” I shakily said his name, “Azriel, please open your eyes.”

He did, slowly, but he opened them. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. A sad smile also crept up my face, as I found his hazel eyes with my own.

“W-what happened?” he swallowed as he tried to sit up further against the tree. Hearing his voice was like a light in this fucked up bloody dark. It was cut short with a wince.

“Stay still, please. You’re a bit worse for wear.” I held back the tears that somehow found their way springing to my eyes. I couldn’t find it in myself to let go of his face as I continued to speak to him, leaving more blood from my ravaged hands upon him. “You were struck down, I saw you falling. I came to help.” I finally tore my hands from his dirt covered face and looked to his abdomen.

It was still bleeding. Why was it still bleeding? The wound had knitted the muscles slowly back together, but his flesh, the skin, was still open, still oozing.

Panic crept back into my being.

“Y/N,” Azriel began as he moved to hold my arm, but I cut him off.

“Your wings are still intact, Az, they are just fine. Your limbs too. It’s only this wound on your abdomen that remains open, and it will shut. You will be just fine.” I was spitting out my words at a rapid pace as I moved my hands from his face to the wound on his abdomen. I was shaking, becoming dizzy once again at the prospect. At the reality that we might not all make it out of this. At the fact his blood was bubbling around my hands. 

“You’re shaking,” he rasped, “and paler than a ghost.” He cried between whines. He moved his head back to the tree, once again leaning on it for support.

“Cassian was just here,” I breathed out, “he was just here, and he’s okay too.” Panic was biting at my tone as I tried to calm myself down.

Azriel had used so much of his strength already in battle. His body couldn’t keep up.

More blood. My mind spat at me.

Azriel had started to teeter again with his consciousness. I could feel it deep within that bond stringing us together. It was loosening, his end was losing.

“Y/N,” his voice came out as a croak, his eyes were closed now. “Promise me something.”

“No, Azriel,” I nearly barked, “Shut up and open your fucking eyes again.” Panic laced my every word, my every breath as I ordered him around.

“Promise me, you’ll keep going. Don’t let this be the end for you. You’re stronger than you know, and this world needs you,” His voice was trailing off now. His lovely, deep voice has become nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, I fucking need you!” I grabbed onto his leathers, not caring about the state of my ruined hands, the tears now pouring down my face. My head made its way to his chest, as his hand rubbed my back. It ever so slowly stopped rubbing and fell.

I gripped onto him tighter. I sobbed into his chest. He was no longer conscious, but I could still hear, feel, his heart beating. Slowing down its rhythm, but still beating.

This would not be the fucking end of him. This would not.

Stifling my tears, I grabbed a dagger sheathed at his thigh and plunged the blade into my own arm. Rage and adrenaline fueled me once again. I was not going to let Azriel leave this world while he was fighting for his family, his court. I was not going to let my mate leave this world before me.

I do not care about the fear, the abandonment, how alone, how pitiful I felt. I cared more for this beautiful male to stay here in this world that needed him, whether he or it needed me or not. 

As the blood surged from my wound, I tilted his head back and opened his mouth. He unconsciously drank.

There had to be a chance. I told myself.

The world began to tip on its axis, and I could no longer hold my arm to his mouth. My body had had enough. From the beatings, lashings, slices, burnings, and fighting. I was drained, in every sense of the world.

My body fell next to Azriel’s. With my last fragment of strength, I reached for Azriel’s hand and interlaced his fingers with my own.

My own consciousness dwindled away, but I could still hear his heart beating.

Good.

---

Before

I crashed through the woods. My bow was attached to my hand as I reached for an arrow that was in the quiver on my back. The air was beginning to grow colder, thicker. A piercing cry once again shattered the air around me. I had no choice but to drop my weapon and cover my ears.

That Gods forsaken noise. They were getting too close for comfort.

The Harpy I had the unfortunate luck of running into trailed me. I don’t know why the creature who typically hunted for valuables followed me of all people. All I had in my possession was my bow, quiver with some arrows, a couple of food rations, and the clothes on my back.

Maybe for sport this time. Awesome.

As soon as I could force my body to endure the cry once more, I scattered for my belongings and ran with all my might. I couldn’t get a sight on this infernal creature, and I’m sure it might take more than a couple of arrows to bring it down.

I just had to make it to the border. To the Night Court. The Court of Nightmares.

Also, awesome. Trading running for my life from a Harpy to a Court that would sense my presence in their walls in no time and also come tracking me down.

The Harpy was the bigger threat right now.

I felt a tug at my lose hair, at my lose clothes as I stumbled over root and rock. The creature was literally nipping at my heals.

The burning feathers of the winged beast, and sharp talons were in arm’s length now. I could feel it.

I made the mistake of looking back, but as I did, I raised my bow above my head. The beast has gnarling teeth that gnashed my way.

I brought my bow down, too close now to make any kind of shot with an arrow. Before my strike could hit the creature, a blast of blue energy passed me and knocked the creature away. It cried as it was demolished, almost incinerating in the rich light.

I scrambled back from it, my ass hitting the ground. What the fuck?

My breath hitched as my gaze locked onto the source of the power rippling through the air.   A towering, winged male stood several feet away, shrouded in an aura of quiet dominance that demanded attention. His dark, leathery wings, flared wide and menacing, cast jagged shadows across the ground, their sheer size and sharp edges enough to make even the bravest falter. 

A scent of mist and ceder floated towards me as he spoke, “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

“Y-yes.” I choked out.

As he made his way closer to me, I scrambled to my feet. I dusted off my pants as properly as I could.

“What’s your name, girl?” His voice was so low and resonant.

“Y/N,” I again, could barely breath out.

He brought a slight smile to his face, “What brings you to the Night Court, Y/N?”

---

Azriel had brought me to a small village in snow covered mountains where he told me there would be a healer. This was not the behavior I was expecting from any in the Court of Nightmares, let alone who I learned afterwards was the Shadowsinger for the High Lord himself.

I spent many months in that village, surrounded by other travelers, but mostly lesser fae called Illyrians.

I poured drinks in a taven, hunted, and helped in the healing structures. Anything that would help keep my head down as I decided where to head too next.

I had run from Dawn. From a close past that did not need me to return to it. That I wanted anything but to return to.

Azriel showed up to the village months later with another Illyrian, Cassian. There was some kind of accident training, and Cassian had been sent away from their war camp to, “heal on his own.” I had a feeling this Cassian had insighted something he shouldn’t have. He had had a broken nose, ribs, and all the bruises to show for it.

There were more visits like this. I slowly grew closer to the pair, learning of Cassian being a bastard, but a budding warrior. I learned that Azriel was a Shadowsinger who worked closely with the High Lord of Night himself. It wasn’t until I was given the opportunity to work in the healing tent at Windhaven that I met Rhysand. The heir to the Court of Night himself.

---

Now

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the sound of his breathing—steady, deliberate, and too close. My eyes fluttered open to find him sitting in a chair pulled close to the bed, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. Shadows curled lazily around him, flickering like restless spirits.

There was no sign of his injury. It must have been healed or bandaged under his fresh set of leathers. Light bruises littered one side of his face. 

My hands and both arms were covered in wrappings. My head pounded as the light fluttered in my eyes. 

"You're awake," Azriel said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. Relief? Anger? Both?

I tried to sit up, but his gaze pinned me down. The intensity in those hazel eyes stole the breath from my lungs. His wings, usually so tightly controlled, flared slightly behind him, a testament to his unrest.

“You fed me your blood.” The accusation was quiet but searing. It jarred me awake.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “You were dying. There wasn’t time—”

“You should have let me die.” His words were harsh, but the way his hands trembled betrayed him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My heart hammered in my chest. He knew. Of course, he knew. He’d felt the bond. The bond that I’d been trying to ignore, to run from. I had forced this bond onto him now. I had forced him into this while he was chasing someone else.

“I saved you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You bound us,” he said, rising to his feet. He began pacing, his shadows swirling more violently now, but his voice cracked on the next words. “You’re my mate.”

I flinched at the word, and he froze mid-step, his wings half-furled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, quieter now, his tone heavy with something that sounded like betrayal.

“Because I didn’t want to be your burden,” I admitted, clutching the blanket as if it could shield me from the weight of his gaze. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I—I thought I could run from it.”

His expression softened, and he sank back into the chair, dragging a hand down his face. “A burden?” he repeated, incredulous. “You think you’re a burden to me?”

I looked away, but he wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, cupping my chin gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You showed me I was a burden when you abandoned me in that camp and took your dear Elain instead. You showed me long before that, when I become an afterthought to you while I was drowning.” At my words, I felt regret ride down the bond.

“You are not a burden,” he said, his voice breaking with conviction. “You are my mate, my equal. You are—” He exhaled sharply, as if the next words cost him something. “You are the reason I’m still breathing. How could you ever think I’d see you as anything less than... everything?”

Tears blurred my vision. “I was scared,” I admitted. “Scared of what it would mean. Of what you’d think of me. We’ve been nothing but friends,” the word sour on my tongue, “for centuries.” 

His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “What I think of you?” he murmured, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I think you’re the bravest, most maddening person I’ve ever met. And I think... I think I was a fool not to see it sooner.”

I let out a shaky laugh, but his expression turned serious again as his hand moved to cover mine.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t ever risk yourself for me like that. I can’t—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I can’t lose you.”

The bond shimmered between us, a fragile thread tightening into something unbreakable. I felt it now, as if for the first time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His wings drooped slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he exhaled. And for the first time, I saw it—the unguarded relief in his eyes. The love.

Azriel pressed his forehead to mine, his voice a broken murmur. “Thank the Cauldron.”

I shut my eyes at the contact. Breathing in his scent. Relief flooded me as I pushed my feelings of love, devotion, towards him through the bond that now did not end in a wall. 

Of course, I had not forgotten the time I had spent in that camp. Had not forgotten all the wrong he had done to me as of late. I wanted to be so angry with him. I wanted to yell and scream and hit him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t when he was tugging at this bond in my chest.

His hand met my chin again, tipping it towards him. My eyes opened and I met his. His beautiful, hazel orbs scanned me. 

“Azriel,” I sniffled, moving to wipe away any remaining tears, “I’d really like for you to kiss me now.” I all but whispered. 

He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against my jawline, featherlight yet deliberate. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, the bond between us humming with newfound awareness. My heart pounded against my ribs as his thumb traced a gentle path along my cheek, as if memorizing every detail of my face.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for this,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw, barely more than a breath.

Before I could speak, before I could think, his lips captured mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid I might disappear. But the moment I leaned into him, he deepened it, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

His shadows curled around us, cocooning us in a world where only we existed. The kiss was fire and starlight, a melding of every unspoken word, every hidden desire. It was a claim, not of possession, but of belonging—of two souls finally finding their home.

I threaded my fingers into his hair, anchoring myself to him as he poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss—relief, joy, need, and something infinitely more profound. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine again, both of us breathing heavily.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice trembling with certainty.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his in a promise.

The bond that had fluttered and beat in my chest exploded. It had gripped onto my heart and forced it to beat. It had shown me what it was like to float on solid ground. To sink into pure bliss and oblivion.

There was time later, to be upset. To work through all the crap. There would be time for me to do all the yelling and screaming I wanted to. To work through if I was going to leave like I had threatened or if I was so weak from one kiss that I didn’t have the stomach to follow up on my threats.

But right now, I have Azriel. And he was all I needed. 

-----

Taglist: (so sorry if I missed anyone!!)

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @breadsticks2004 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @helo1281917 @i-am-infinite @emptyporsche @quiet-loser @watermelomsuger @anxious-cactus @rcarbo1 @latinxbipride @chelsiemp @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @marina468 @kennedy-brooke @myromanempiree @craftytrashprincess @fairydustblossom @st4r-girl-official @darkbloodsly @kitsunetori @historygeekqueen @ivy-34 @optimisticbabydreamer @fightmedraco @maruiin @thefandomplace @bxtchopolis @annamariereads16 @whosmys @toobsessedsstuff @ineffablywriting @uncontainedsmiles @metaphysicaldoom @darksideofthemoooon @myrtle-thai @avocadorablereader @byyalady @vhjlucky13 @anxious-cactus @evergreenlark @alainabooks143 @be-your-coffee-pot @booksbypisces @chaconnelatte @cazrielfairygf @sometimeseverythingsucks @angstylittleb1tch @littlegirl-bd @watermelomsuger @zanaorian @arssunshine @buttermilktea11

[theemporium]

Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.

You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.

And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 

So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 

But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 

“Fuck you, Panthers!” 

Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 

“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”

“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 

“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 

This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.

“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.

But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”

You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 

“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”

You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”

And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.

.

[restless-sea-dry-stalks]

@jumalanpelko making me create fan characters after 15 years of not doing so? no way dude

fun fact: I quite literally had no fan characters/aus since 2010 when I was a tiny little kid and I have NO IDEA if what I am doing is respectful. this is uncharted grounds for me. but Jumalanpelko has me hooked and my brain just went brrr you have fan characters now, deal with it. I'm so sorry if I am doing it wrong

soooo anyway this is Varsi (Kuultainenvarsi/"golden stalk/stem" if I got that right) and something is veeery wrong with her paw! she basically tore out Her out of Suncat (who I'm gonna present later. or not.) and this was gonna be a kiiiiind of happy ending au (BECAUSE JUMALANPELKO IS BREAKIN ME HEART D':) but no one escapes the angst hehe. now She's pissed, Varsi is slowly dying and her ex-guard papa and a buff old woman from the local swamp should do something about it. lol this sounds so stupid but I love this child. she is completely nuts, in a good way

also, She is more physically present here and acts more like a parasite (bc I love parasite/infection plots)

ALSO SIDE NOTE I love Finnish. I may be a total noob but learning it is my goal after I'm finished with Greek. Finnish scratches my brain just right. and Finnish artists are so cool. like how do you do that guys, every Finnish artist I know makes absolutely mindblowing art, this is insane

[queenofmorningstar]

Can you do a one-shot of Alastor in a secret relationship with male! reader who's the Angel of Death, and by that I mean they're like Death itself (as anthropomorphic personification) not only the Angel of it, oh and also in myth the Angel of Death is named Azrael, so that will be what reader is referred to, and also Death! reader is super sweet and loving and chill and a complete sweetie, just with a Gothic hippie vibe?

Alastor x Angel of Death!Reader

CW: Alastor gets injured, m! Reader is simp for Al

Word Count: 1.5k

Notes: Thank you Anon, for this unique request! You didn’t mention if it was sfw or nsfw so I’m leaning towards sfw. I tried to do my best. Fun fact: in some myths, Azrael has 4,000 wings!

On my Ao3 as well.

You descended with the rest of the army, since you’d heard that Adam was planning to target Hazbin Hotel first since Princess Moringstar came to the heavenly court. When you’d insisted on coming along this extermination, Adam had shrugged. “Good for you, Azzie. Get your freak on.”

You recognised Alastor’s shield. You almost smiled.

Adam clearly has had enough of being left out of the battle. “I'm fucking over this.”

Adam launched himself forward in a single, brutal movement. The air cracked around him as he drew back a fist–Boom. One punch. Just one. A shattering burst of golden light tore through the air, and the shield—your Alastor’s beautiful, delicate, stubborn creation—split apart with a crack like a mirror giving way. It didn’t explode. It dissipated.

The hotel stood exposed. Alastor still hadn’t moved. Your stomach twisted. You didn’t show it, of course. You stood there, still and unreadable as ever. Death didn't panic.

Your eyes found Alastor again. He was still smiling—but his posture had shifted ever so slightly. He wasn’t showing it. Not to Adam. Not to the army. Not to anyone. But you knew. You always knew. And gods, you wanted to hold him right now. To brush the smoke from his cheek and say, you did well, darling. 

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Any sign would damn you both. But slowly, so slowly, you let your hand fall from where it had been resting on your belt. It slid just to your side, fingers open. A silent gesture.

He twitched his sleeve, just once. Like dusting off his cuff. I see you too. I’m okay.

It was the only reassurance you would get. Alastor takes a few steps forward to meet Adam. “Adam! First man, next to die.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life.” Alastor taps his cane on the ground, causing four tentacles to rise up around him.

You really should’ve focused. But your heart did a stupid thing. Your fingers flew to your face instinctively, covering your mouth like you were suppressing a gasp of horror—but it wasn’t revulsion that bloomed in your chest. Because if you opened your mouth, you might sigh his name like a lovesick idiot.

It was a very specific, deeply unprofessional thought: He looks so hot right now.

God, you were weak.

You turned your face slightly, hand still up, as if shielding yourself from some blasphemy. Anyone looking would think you were repulsed—maybe even disapproving.

Alastor caught it. Of course he did. His gaze slid toward you, just a flick, just a hair’s breadth of motion—but his grin curled just a little more wickedly, like he could see right through your little mask of disgust.

He knew. And oh, he was going to make you suffer for it later.

Adam didn’t even try to mask his scorn as he turned to you. “Well?” he barked, his voice edged with impatience. “Aren’t you gonna help me kill that red freak or something?”

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh, lifting a hand to inspect a chipped black fingernail like it was far more important than the obliteration of your lover ten yards away. “I’ll watch,” you said smoothly, voice calm and dismissive. “You seem very enthusiastic. Wouldn’t want to rob you of your moment.”

The lie sat so easy in your mouth, you almost believed it yourself. But you didn’t move to fight. Didn’t lift your scythe. Just folded your arms loosely across your chest and leaned your weight into one hip, looking for all the world like you couldn’t be bothered.

Inside, though? Your chest burned. Your throat itched with all the things you couldn’t say. Adam scoffed. “Figures,” he muttered, turning away. “I’m disappointed that Death is too pussy to fight.”

You didn’t rise to the bait. You just smiled gently, almost beatifically. A peaceful expression that masked how tightly your fists had curled behind your sleeves.

He didn’t know that “the red freak” had held you in silence while you traced the scars on his back. That the demon he scorned had kissed your forehead like it meant something. 

It was divine to watch him fight. Alastor moved with improvised violence, sharp and wicked and rhythmic. 

You stayed still, arms still loosely folded, pretending to be bored, but your eyes tracked every movement. Every step Adam took. Every near-miss. Every time that blessed blade arced a little too close to where it shouldn’t.

Your jaw clenched. You tensed. You would not let him—

Alastor’s eyes found you. And he shook his head. A small movement. Barely there. It stopped you cold. The furious ache of having to stand there—untouching, unspeaking—as the one person you loved most was in danger…you’ve taken various souls, but never felt anything. But this helplessness was a new feeling. 

Adam was done. “I'm going to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, CAUSE RADIO IS FUCKING DEAD!”

Adam swings his guitar, sending a shockwave towards Alastor. When it dissipates, Alastor’s microphone has been snapped in two. While Alastor is distracted by his microphone, Adam manages to score a hit on him, slashing him across the torso. Alastor flew backward, crashing to the edge of the hotel’s rooftop with a sickening thud.

Alastor picks up the two pieces of his microphone, trying to get back up but was too injured. You gasped audibly. You hadn’t meant to break composure. You’d been so good until now. But when that cruel wave of divine force shattered Alastor’s microphone, you felt your whole chest seize up like it had been punched from the inside.

And you didn’t think anymore. You moved.

In a flash of black feathers, you launched from your perch above, wings outstretched, shielding him. Alastor coughed behind you, low and ragged, and it broke you.

Adam staggered to a stop, blinking in stunned confusion. “…What the fuck?” His brow twitched. “What the actual fuck, Azrael?”

You didn’t respond immediately. Adam stepped forward. “Why the hell are you protecting him? You should be taking his soul, not slacking on your job as you always do!”

His eyes searched yours, and then they widened. “Oh. Oh, I get it now.” He laughed—a short, cruel bark. “You’re sucking the red freak’s dick, aren’t you?”

Behind you, Alastor groaned and tried to rise. “Azrael, don’t—”

“No.” Your voice cut through the air, steady and absolute. You turned just enough to glance back at him. Blood stained his vest.

“Don’t do this,” he rasped, voice fraying at the edges. “You can’t undo this.”

You gave him the gentlest smile.“No secret remains a secret forever, darling.”

Adam’s face twisted into something grotesque. “You traitorous little—”

“Enough.” You lifted your hand, shadows forming at your feet, dark and ancient and godlike. “I’ve played the role asked of me. I do not participate myself with feeble politics of heaven and hell. But it seems like you’ve forgotten to fear me.”

Adam stepped back, hesitant. You got up in his face. “My darling is not going to die today, but you surely are.”

Adam’s voice faltered. “There’s no way–”

You grinned maliciously. “It will be aided by my brother, Lucifer, no else. See you on the other side.”

Alastor’s shadow encompassed you as well. “Radio's not dead, but it is ending this broadcast.”

The world warped. Reds overtook your vision—velvet drapes, worn carpet, that warm, perpetual amber glow of the “ON AIR” sign hanging like a holy relic.

Alastor’s radio booth.

He stumbled. You were there instantly. “Whoa, whoa, Al—sit down.” You guided him toward the plush old chair in the corner of the booth, hands firm but reverent.

Alastor chuckled, though it came out a little breathless. “Ah, my dear, you should’ve let me take the hit with dignity. I’m no stranger to pain.”

You knelt before him anyway, fingers glowing faintly at the tips as you peeled back the shredded layers of his red suit. “And I’m no stranger to fixing it.”

He winced as you exposed the gash—a deep, divine-etched wound that still pulsed angrily. That weapon hadn’t been made to wound. It had been made to end.

“Still smiling,” you murmured, eyes flicking up to meet his, “even with half your guts trying to escape.”

“Old habits die hard, dear heart.” He tilted his head, grinning crookedly through pain. “And speaking of dying, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

��Working on it,” you muttered, your voice softening. A warm, obsidian light glowed beneath your palms, slow and careful.

Alastor watched you in silence for a long moment. His crimson eyes flickered, something rare and unguarded flickering beneath them.“You risked everything.”

“Not everything.” You finally met his eyes. “You’re everything.”

His lips parted. That ever-present smile faltered—trembled, even.

You smoothed your thumb across his chest, near the wound that was now fading into an angry scar.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead gently against his.“I’m here. I’m staying. You don’t have to smile for me.”

He closed his eyes. “That’s the problem,” he murmured. “I don’t smile for you. I smile because you make me forget it’s fake.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2>>>

[captainsophiestark]

We're Good

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Kol meets Davina and finally seems serious about someone, so his best friend convinces herself to finally let go of her secret crush. But when Kol gets jealous of her paying attention to another guy, what once seemed settled might not actually be finished.

Word Count: 3,092

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Title is lightly inspired by the Dua Lipa song, although the fic doesn't totally fit it.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried not to scowl as I watched Kol from the second level of the Mikaelson compound. He was down on the dancefloor, in the middle of the latest party he and his family had decided to throw. I knew Nik or Elijah had some ulterior motive for hosting, but I hadn't cared because this time, I'd had my own ulterior motive. I'd put on my absolute best outfit and made sure I looked like a knockout, all so I could finally tell Kol Mikaelson, my longtime friend and crush, how I really felt about him.

And now, before I could, he was standing at the edge of the dancefloor trying to make a move on Davina Claire.

I should've known. Kol and I had been friends for a long time, and despite pretty regular flirty moments between us, he'd never taken any steps to make us something more serious. Instead, he flirted with, hooked up with, and even dated whatever mortal he'd most recently fallen for while I stood by pretending not to get my heart broken.

This time, I was done with it. For good.

I set my jaw and squinted, refusing to let the tears fall as I turned from the balcony. I almost made it into a hallway off the Mikaelson compound where I could disappear from everything, but of course, I couldn't quite get that lucky.

"He's a bloody idiot, you know."

Rebekah Mikaelson, my best friend in the world, stood before me with her hands on her hips, blocking my exit.

"Rebekah-"

"I'd love to have you for a sister-in-law, but you deserve better than one of my idiot brothers. As a boyfriend and as a friend."

"Bex, I don't want to hear it right now."

The sympathy on her face almost killed me, but she stepped aside. I thought that would be it, but then she called out to me just before I could turn the corner and escape this whole mess.

"Mourn all you like tonight, but tomorrow we're going out! There are plenty of men in this city to help you forget all about Kol!"

****************

Rebekah gave me exactly one day before she started hounding me about going out on the town to forget her "idiot brother". And honestly, I might've ignored her, except for the fact that Kol spent the entire day after the ball with Davina.

I'd always known he was a flirt, but this time, he actually seemed to mean it. So I gave him more space than usual, for my sake as much as his, and spent more time wih Rebekah. We baked and went on walks, and after a while, I stopped shooting her down when she tried to drag me to bars. Kol kept hanging out with Davina, but slowly, seeing them together was starting to hurt a little less. I always thought if he found a girl to get serious about, it would be me. And a tiny little part of my heart still tore to shreds when I saw how wrong I'd been. But unlike those first few days, the heartbreak wasn't eating me alive anymore.

Which is how I ended up out at a bar with the entire Mikaelson family, dancing my heart out on the dancefloor without a second thought for whether Kol would join me.

We'd first started a montly tradition of the firve of us going out and just having fun a few years ago, and despite various dramas and the siblings scattering to the winds, we'd more or less managed to keep it up. We always picked a place a few hours from where any of us were living and planned to stay the night, so we could well and truly forget everything but having a good time together. Normally, I spent the night orbiting Kol, to the point that Nik usually had a field day giving me shit about it. Tonight had been a little different.

I'd joined Nik in dragging Elijah out of the house, gone with Rebekah to order all of us some truly strange, fun cocktails, and danced the night away on the dancefloor with all of them, without my mind or gaze constantly circling back to Kol. He didn't seem to even notice the shift, and I was surprised to find that it didn't really bother me. Kol was a good friend, after all, and with a little more time to process, maybe we'd even be better off.

"Hey!" Rebekah shouted into my ear, still barley making herself heard over the music around us. We'd been here for hours, but none of us showed any signs of slowing down just yet. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you all night!"

I turned to follow her gaze and found a handsome guy looking back. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I returned the gesture before whipping around to Rebekah.

"Why are you so fixated on setting me up with somebody?"

"Because it's fun! And I haven't got to do it once in all the time I've known you because you've been so hung up on Kol. So come on, let me have my fun!"

I made a face. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance on the random person Rebekah had found, regardless of me finally being over Kol. She huffed, then leaned in to speak in my ear again.

"Just trust me! I compelled him and asked him some questions, and he seems like someone you'd get along quite well with!"

I closed my eyes. "You compelled him, Rebekah? Seriously?"

"Well how else was I supposed to make sure he wasn't some sleezy werewolf or something? Go on, just talk to him!"

"Fine! Fine, but it's still our Mikaelson Family Fun Day, so I'm just going to talk."

"That's fine with me! Although I promise not to judge you if you don't come back to the room tonight-"

I picked up the nearest thing I could find (a stack of napkins) and hucked it at her, which she easily dodged. I did my best to ignore her laughing behind me as I headed for the bar.

The guy smiled as I approached him, and I smiled back. I headed for an open spot standing next to him at the bar, and he started speaking as soon as I came within hearing range.

"Hey! I've been hoping you'd come over and say hi all night."

I smiled. "Why didn't you come over and say hi yourself?"

"Didn't want to interrupt you and your friends if you didn't want to be bothered," he said with a shrug. "Although, that girl Rebekah tried awfully hard to get me to come over once or twice."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Rebekah loves nothing more than meddling, especially in my life." I paused. "I'm glad she convinced me to come over and talk to you though."

"So am I! I-"

He broke off at the same time as I felt someone slide up to the bar behind me, chest almost pressed into my back. I started to turn around to tell whoever it was to back off, but a familiar voice spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother, mate?" said Kol, his tone laced with the slightest undercurrent of a threat. Apparently, he'd decided to make sure he got what he wanted, because a moment later the guy whose name I hadn't even been able to get yet turned on his heel and walked away.

I rounded on Kol with a furious scowl, but he just grinned back at me, still very close and in my personal space. Normally, the proximity would've left me with butterflies, but right now all I felt was anger growing in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, an edge to my voice that I'd really never directed at Kol before. His eyebrows shot up, but otherwise, he didn't seem bothered.

"I was getting rid of that creep who was bothering you. Come on, darling, I thought you'd be thanking me-"

"Thanking you? Kol, he clearly wasn't bothering me! I came up to him, for God's sake!"

"Well I'm sorry, it just looked like you might want me to step in-"

"How? How did it look like that, Kol?"

My voice was getting louder now, enough that a few people were starting to take notice, but I didn't care. I was furious at my so-called friend and he was going to hear about it.

Kol cleared his throat. "Love, maybe we should take this somewhere else-"

"Knock it off with the pet names! Kol seriously, what the fu-"

In a split second, the bar disappeared around me. Instead, I found myself thrown over Kol's shoulder as he vampire-sped out of the bar. When we finally stopped, it was just inside the front door of the house we'd all rented, with Kol's back to me as he closed the front door.

I took my opening and hurled the nearest pillow at his head. It hit its target dead on, and I got halfway through picking up another one when Kol used his vamp speed to close the distance between us and grab my wrist.

"Hey! Knock it off, alright? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding me Kol?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or all three, but I focused on the screaming part as I faced a bewildered Kol. "You absolute hypocrite, how dare you pull me out of that bar, and how dare youstep into my conversation like that!"

"What? Is this seriously all about me scaring off that one guy? You hardley knew him!"

"Obviously it's not completely about him, although that move still sucked, Kol! It's about you thinking you have some right to barge into my life and scare off a guy who might be interested in me! Because that's what it was, right? There's no way you thought I wanted him gone, so you did all this because you wanted him gone, right?"

"...I- I guess I didn't really like seeing him with you, but-"

"But nothing! Kol, we've had just a kind of flirty friendship forever. And whenever it seemed like we might be heading into something else, you were always the one to bail out. And last month, when you found Davina and got serious about someone else, it ripped my heart out. But I forced myself to take some time and get over it! Because that's your choice, and I care about you regardless of if you want to date me. But Kol, you have been clearly, specifically going after Davina lately. Which means you have absolutely no right to come tell some guy at the bar to back off when he's flirting with me."

"Darling, come on-"

I held up a hand to cut Kol off. The storm of emotions had finally started calming, hardening into something more manageable. I'd let myself struggle in this relationship without ever having an up front conversation for far too long. We were going to set some boundaries and have it all out, whether or not Kol wanted to. I was done with the rollercoaster ride.

"Kol, I know you call a lot of people 'darling', but if you want to stay friends with me then I'm going to need you to stop calling me that."

Kol just stared at me for a few moments, blinking and apparently processing everything I'd just said. His eyebrows knit together and he looked seriously distressed, but I refused to back down. After a moment, he took a half step towards me, his hand reaching out slightly towards my own.

"...And what if I don't think I want to be friends anymore, darling?"

I scoffed, another overwhelming wave of anger rising up and over me. I shook my head and turned around, walking a few steps away and hoping the space would help me cool down.

"You better not be flirting with me right now, Mikaelson, after everything I just said and everything you've been up to with Davina lately."

"Davina and I aren't together, love. We went on a few dates after Nik's little party, but we've hardly seen each other since then, and I don't intend to keep anything going. You might have noticed, but you started avoiding me after the ball and I had no idea why."

I turned to face Kol at last, scanning his face for any hint of something that might help me make up my mind on how to feel about all this. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, and I scowled.

"I wish you'd said something earlier about this little crush of yours, honestly. I didn't think I had a shot in hell with you. It would've saved us both some time."

I shook my head, slowly at first and then much much faster. Before I completely realized what I was doing, I crossed the room and smacked Kol in the chest. He was one of the oldest vamipres to ever live, so it didn't have much of an impact on him, but it definitely made me feel better.

"Kol Mikaelson, you jackass! You do not get to use this as an excuse to confess feelings for me!"

He laughed, holding up his hands and clearly fighting a beaming smile. I slowly tapered off my assault, instead opting for crossing my arms and absolutely fuming at him.

"Seriously, Kol, this isn't funny. I show interest in someone else for the first time in our friendship, and all of a sudden you're dropping everything to come and confess feelings for me? You get why I don't feel like that's completely sincere, right?"

Kol sighed, the smile finally falling off his face. He moved to close the distance between us again, and this time, I let him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not joking because it's a joke to me, I promise. I've had feelings for you as long as I've known you, darling, but I didn't think I had a chance with you. And you've been important to everyone in our family for just about as long as we've known you. If I made things complicated, or made you want to stop spending time with all of us, my siblings would've literally killed me."

I snorted, looking down so Kol wouldn't see me fighting a smile off my face. No matter what, Kol always seemed able to make me smile when I least wanted to. Normally, it was one of my favorite things about him.

"What can I do, hm? What can I do to prove I mean what I'm saying?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and at last looking up at Kol. With wide eyes and no hint of the sardonic smile I knew so well, he looked more serious than I'd ever seen him before.

"...If you're really sure about this, Kol, that you really mean this...?"

"I do. Darling, I swear I do. I promise you, I won't waste the chance if you give me one."

"Okay, then prove it. I've never seen you go more than a week without flirting with some human, witch, vampire, werewolf, or whatever other sentient beings we come across. Make it a month, and maybe I'll believe what you said about being serious about this."

"...And will we be dating for that month?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I want to, Kol, and I want that to be where this goes, but... I need to see that this is real first. I want to believe it is, so badly, but after centuries of meaningless flirting and dancing around each other without a conversation, of seeing you have flings every chance you get and watching each one of those burn out... I can't just take it on faith."

Kol sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. He didn't say anything, just closed the little remaining distance between us as he brought his arms up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him, leaning down with a glance at my lips, and I didn't stop him as he pulled me into a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. My knees went a little week as I leaned further into Kol, resting my hands on his shoulders. After a few long moments, just as my common sense started returning to tell me what a mistake this was, Kol pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry, darling. But I couldn't wait a month to do that."

I snorted and shook my head, stepping carefully out of Kol's grip. He watched my every move with a smile, and my heart did a backflip when he licked his lips. I told my heart to calm the hell down.

"I... certainly didn't mind the potential preview," I admitted.

Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me.

"This is going be the longest month of my life... but if that's what it'll take, I'll make it through. I know it'll be worth it, especially now."

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I couldn't quite keep a smile off my face. Finally, my heart started returning to a normal pace, and I managed to meet Kol's eyes again without having a cardiac event.

"Alrlight, so... what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to go back to the bar."

"Is that a joke, darling?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. His mouth dropped open like he couldn't believe I was serious. "I may not get to do the activity I most want to do right now for another month, but I did just get my best friend back after extensive radio silence. We have so many episodes of our favorite shows to catch up on!"

"...You didn't watch them without me?"

"Of course not! Did you watch them without me?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then, there you have it! That's our evening. You make the popcorn, I'll turn on the tv."

I laughed as Kol turned on his heel, getting immediately to work. I still wanted to wait the month I'd made him promise; I still wasn't confident his romantic affections wouldn't wander. But despite all that, a massive weight lifted off my chest as I headed into the kitchen for snacks. I had my best friend back, and finally, after a ridiculous amount of waiting and dancing around each other and poor communication, we were actually getting a shot at our happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[the-offside-rule]

Liam Lawson (VCARB) - Secret Santa

Day 9 of Christmas

Prompt: F1 secret santa exchange

25 Days Of Christmas

The rain drizzled down the Brazilian paddock, but the cool air inside the garages and motorhomes buzzed with excitement. It was media day, and it was that time of year again: picking the names for the Santa exchange, organized for the drivers to loosen up before the final race of the season. Rookie F1 driver Y/n Y/l/n stood by, a little nervous but mostly excited. This was her first year in Formula 1, and being asked to participate in the fun, she felt like part of the big family she’d always dreamed of joining.

After a quick drawing session, Y/n had pulled out a familiar name: Liam Lawson. A small smile crept onto her face. She had known Liam since they were kids, racing karts together. She remembered how obsessed he used to be (and still secretly was) with Cars, especially Lightning McQueen. It was the perfect opportunity for a gift, a playful nod to the good old days.

The paddock buzzed with energy as drivers bustled about, swapping jokes, preparing for the annual Secret Santa event. It was a light-hearted break from the intensity of the track, a chance for the drivers to relax and have a little fun. Fans eagerly awaited the video, and speculation had been rampant online about who would get who for Secret Santa this year. Y/N stood outside the Haas motorhome, tapping her foot nervously. She loved Christmas, but this event had her more on edge than usual. There was something about the thought of exchanging gifts with her fellow drivers (especially Liam) that made her heart race a little faster. She’d had a crush on Liam for as long as she could remember, ever since their karting days. It wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone but him, apparently. And according to the endless Twitter threads and Instagram posts, fans desperately wanted them to get together too.

The crew had already set up the cameras in the VCARB motorhome when Liam walked in, a bit curious but eager to see what he’d gotten. His eyes immediately lit up as he spotted the Lightning McQueen logo on the wrapping paper. "You ready for your gift?" The media coordinator grinned, appearing beside him. Liam forced a smile. "I guess so. Who got me again?" The coordinator's grin widened, clearly hiding the fact they knew exactly what was about to unfold. "You'll see." They teased, watching as he tore into the gifts, pulling out each item with increasing excitement.

"No way!"He exclaimed, pulling out the Crocs first, then the cap, then the socks. "This is amazing!" The camera zoomed in on his wide grin as he held up the Lightning McQueen backpack, laughing in disbelief. But it was the matching Lightning and Mater keyrings that truly caught his attention. His fingers brushed over the necklace, and for a moment, his smile softened into something more thoughtful.

"Whoever got this-" He started, looking up. "definitely knows me well." He looks across the paddock seeing Y/n grinning from ear to ear. "You?!" His eyes twinkled with excitement as he lifted up the keyrings. "I know youre obsessed with Cars so its the only logical thing to get you, mate." Y/n stammered, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. "And I know you still are, so I thought..." She trailed off as Liam scanned the matching keyrings. He chuckled softly, the sound making her stomach flip. "This is amazing, Y/n! I dont think you understand how much I actually love this." He thumbed the keyrings for a moment, then looked back up at her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Do you realize what this means?"

Her brows furrowed. "What?" Liam dangled the keyrings in front of her. "It means our keys will always match." Y/n's heart did somersaults. "Yeah, I guess they will." She laughed, trying to play it cool, though internally, she was screaming. Oh my God, stop being cute! Liam glanced at the media team with a small smile. "I think this is the best Secret Santa gift I've ever gotten. Thank you, Y/n. Seriously." He smiled as he got up and pulled her in for a hug. "You’re welcome." She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process how her heart could be pounding so loud. With Liam grinning down at his gift, the media team signaled it was time to switch gears. Y/n waved at him one last time as she was led to the Haas garage for her turn to open her gift.

As she arrived, she found herself nervously glancing around. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart was still doing its usual Liam-induced gymnastics. The crew handed her a large, neatly wrapped gift, and she immediately noticed the familiar handwriting on the tag.

For Y/n. Hope you love this as much as I did picking it out. - Liam.

Her breath hitched. "Liam? He got me?" She carefully peeled back the pink wrapping paper, revealing a collection of Barbie-themed goodies. "Why, Barbie?" The crew asked. "I used to have a Barbie helmet, and my first kart was pink because I just loved Barbie." She smiled. There was a Barbiecolouringg book, a vintage Barbie and Ken doll, and at the bottom, a custom-made shirt. It was bright pink, of course, with a photo of her edited over a Barbie doll under the words, She’s Everything and below that, Liam’s face had been superimposed on a Ken doll with the words, He’s just Ken. Y/n burst out laughing, her heart swelling with warmth. She held up the shirt for the camera, turning to face the crew. "This is incredible. Oh my God, he did not!"

Her laughter died down, replaced by a fond smile. "He's the sweetest." She smiled. She stared at the note, her heart beating a little faster than usual. He remembered. She looked into the camera, her cheeks flushing pink. "Thank you, Liam. This is perfect." She said, a soft sincerity in her voice before turning away, overwhelmed by the emotions that had hit her all at once.

Y/n: Liam! I love the gift, thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered the Barbie suit! You’re the best.

Back in the VCARB garage, Liam felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing Y/N's name pop up, he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

Liam: Of course, I remembered, I’m glad you liked it. You totally made my day with the Lightning McQueen stuff.

Y/n: You’re welcome :) And I’m still laughing at the shirt. Did you really make that yourself?

Liam: What can I say? I’m a man of many talents ;)

Y/n: Well, you did a great job. Might have to wear it to the paddock tomorrow

Liam: You wouldn't dare.

Y/n: Watch me, Lawson.

Liam chuckled softly as he pocketed his phone. The media team might not have captured it on camera, but he had a sneaking suspicion that today’s gift exchange was going to be a memorable one, not just for the fans, but for them, too. Meanwhile, Y/n leaned back against the wall of the Haas garage, a wide smile on her face as she looked at the keyring in her hand. Maybe the fans were onto something after all.

As the video aired a few days later, fans went wild with excitement. Twitter exploded with hashtags like #LiamAndY/n and #SecretSantaGoals. Everyone had seen the chemistry, and for once, Y/n and Liam couldn’t deny that maybe—just maybe—they weren’t so delusional after all.

[ravencincaide]

Not my soulmate

Summary:  No, absolutely not. You refused to even consider the fact that your universe's chosen soulmate was one of the most brutal, deadliest and wanted men of Yokohama. And none other than an ability user! No, absolutely and utterly no, even if he was a little cute..

Pairing: Fem reader x Chuuya Nakahara 

Raven’s Special prompt: Soulmate AU : “Chuuya soulmate au ooh it could be the one where soulmates have their names written down somewhere on them”

Warnings: Cursing, annoyed Chuuya and bratty reader

Enjoy~

You looked at the news segment; the picture of a manic looking man with ginger hair partially hidden beneath the shade of his tophat. Piercing eyes that stole your breath and the boyish grin that mocked the viewer of the security footage from which the picture was taken. The photo was surrounded by huge letters which warned viewers about the dangerous man. “ Do not engage. Comply with his demands and when safe alert the authorities. Executive of Port Mafia:  Nakahara Chuuya is– ” 

You tore your gaze away and down to your bare forearm where cursive red letters glowed out the name of your soulmate. Then you flickered your eyes back up towards the news segment which described the executives' latest atrocities. Then back down at your arm- back up to the news. Down to your arm. Up to the news. 

Then you screamed. 

“ Jesus Y/N are you alright?!” You heard your mothers voice echo from the hallway accompanied by her rushed steps. The time it took her to reach you was just enough for you to pull the sleeves of your shirt down, in the process knocking over a cup of hot tea onto the table. As she entered, you flashed her a guilty smile for needlessly worrying her.  “ Did you burn yourself?” You shook your head in answer “ Good, what got you screaming? Did you find your soulmate or something?” 

You faked a laugh then cracked at your mothers pointed look. “ Yeah on the news” you said with a roll of your eyes. Thankfully the wanted poster was replaced with the weather forecast narrated by an elderly gentleman.

Your mother laughed loudly at the sight of the pensioner“ Ohh that’s just a coincidence- common name you know?” she brushed a few stray strands of hair out of your face reassuringly “ I’m going to head out for some errands then visit a few friends–” 

“ - have fun and I’ll keep my phone close in case you miss the last train” you promised. Your cheeky remark earned you a glare and a mouthed ‘one time’ before the woman strolled out of the apartment in an almost guilty fashion- as if to say the second time could be tonight. You smiled a little but your smile dropped the second your eyes landed back onto the news segment. 

The warning poster was back with the ginger haired murderer; cocky grin, black mafia coat and all. 

“ No, no way” you muttered as your fingers trailed over the material above the matemark. “ Just the same kanji- not even the same pronunciation. Not even the same name!” you told yourself. Forced yourself to believe that until the name on the screen stopped making your heart beat faster. Now then to the mess with the tea–

You froze as you heard the doorbell. Then rolled your eyes at your mothers forgetful nature. The doorbell rang again and again, an impatient sound that made you groan out loud as though you were a teenager again “ I hear it. I’m coming, I’m coming. Sheesh, if you're in such a hurry you should have just taken the keys with you in the first place.” 

You opened the door and your blood ran cold. Your mouth was dry as you came face to face with piercing blue orbs of the man in the news segment. Before you could react, a gloved hand reached up and he tipped his top hat towards you in politely gentlemanly greeting. 

“ You’re Y/N yeah?” his voice was rough, language of a typical delinquent which did not match his appearance, it made your lips tug downwards into a frown. 

“ N-no sorry wrong apartment” You attempted to shut the door but he stuck his dress shoes in the way. A gloved hand grabbed the wood and forced it wide opened again. 

“ Ehh you sure? Coulda sworn this was your picture? Nevermind, sure you ain't lacking a soulmate?” although flirty there was an undeniable warning in his words as he crumpled up your official picture and stuffed it in his pocket. 

It was a warning you ignored. 

“ N-no sorry, I’ve already met my soulmate!” you lied and hoped it was believable. 

“ Oi– okay if that’s the case dollface, then you wouldn’t mind stripping just enough for me to see the mark, yeah?” Chuuya grabbed your arm and kept you in-place as he drew closer, hot breath fanned your face. Eyes glared daggers as though he saw right through your lie. Your mind replayed the warnings from the news which so bluntly told all civilians to stay the hell away from him and if encountered then;  

Comply with his demands and when safe alert the authorities.

But since you already lied to him and refused his orders- how fucked were you? And would it at least be a merciful death?

Chuuyas impatient growl filled you with more and more dread. It only increased as he yanked you closer to himself.  “ Where the hell is it?” His free hand began tugging on your shirt. Lifted it up just high enough to see your stomach, then cursed when the mark wasn’t there. “ I said where the fuck is it?!” 

The way Chuuya yelled; desperate attempts to find your mark and then the realization that he would kill you once he saw it filled you with a sense of hopelessness. But with it came anger; Why you? Why now? And why did this bastard have to be your soulmate? And more important why did he seek you out? 

‘Well if you were going to die then you would be damned sure it wouldn't be without a fight’ That was your last thought before you raised your knee and hit him in the groin. You heard him huff, saw him double over in pain and used those precious seconds to pry his hands off yourself. 

And then you ran. 

Author Note: Well it's not my best work but it was fun to write. And i managed to get it right below the 1000 word word limit- Yay me! Hope this special made you laugh- or at least crack a smile and until next Sunday.

Update: Find part two here, disobedient soulmate

Can't wait so long? Check out Raven's masterlist for more stuff to read!

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[generic-sonic-fan]

Random thought: Omega finds a live bomb while Team Dark is on a mission. Screaming ensues.

I can sense deep in my bones that you intended this to be a light-hearted crack fic request. However, you should know that I am the world expert at turning fluffy requests into angst fics.

In this particular case, you've actually hit close enough to an abandoned WIP that's been sitting in my drafts forever. It has to do with Omega, and defusing a live bomb, and it's a spin-off of Annual Life Support Maintenance (which means please heed the tags!). I hope you like it, even if it's not exactly following your prompt!

Pragmatism

2444 words

---

The base bust was a success. Rouge was good with computers, sure, but the Tails was better at the hardware end of things, and given what she needed was hidden in the processor of a Badnik she was grateful for the help.

And of course, taking Sonic’s little squirt along meant taking Sonic himself. Still fun, but a little less discretionary than she might have preferred. And then, of course, seeing Sonic being taken on what was supposedly a “stealth” mission ruined the illusion entirely, meaning that Omega begged to come along as well. 

This was no longer a stealth mission; a fact that was confirmed when Omega tore the doors off their hinges to breach the next room of the complex. Sonic shot through the crack and the buzz-sawing began. Then the bullets, then the flamethrowers, then the taunting between the two Badnik destroying extraordinaires about who got the most kills. 

It was a mission, one of the easier ones Rouge has had in a while. One of the ones that felt more like a game than an actual mission. Something like a genuine hobby, almost. She could almost understand Omega’s sentiment towards this kind of thing. 

Tails lingered behind with her, watching the two clear the route. Not that he couldn’t participate in the fun if he wanted to- an electric shock pistol with some truly wicked current hung from a holster on his hip. Rouge kept a few bombs at the ready also, but really, they weren’t needed. 

“Hey, boys!” Rouge called out to the rabble-rousers ahead. “Remember to not destroy the one we need!”

“Yes ma’am!” Sonic gave a mock salute before shooting to the next room ahead. 

Before she could take off to follow him, Tails tapped her arm.

“Hey, something’s strange.” the kid held up his tablet to her. It had a map of the complex, and a red dot tracking their target. Or at least, it used to. The red dot was gone. “It disappeared at the end of the next hallway, but I didn’t think there were any other exits.” 

Rouge shrugged. “Wouldn’t that be unfortunate.” 

“It’s also possible it’s entered a part of this base with a system isolated from the rest, like a clean room equipped with a faraday cage.” Tails added.

“Thanks for the heads up.”  

They both took off and flew into the next room, where Sonic and Omega were still arguing about kill counts. Rouge blew a raspberry at the two as she floated by into the succeeding hallway. 

She landed in front of a pair of blast doors. Judging by the tracks these doors rolled on, they had to be almost a foot thick. She spotted a computer terminal to the left. 

“Hey, kiddo!” She called to Tails back down the hall and gestured to it. “Try over there. No way Omega’s gonna be able to bust this one open.” 

“I FIND YOUR LACK OF FAITH DISTURBING.” Omega popped his head into the hallway, before pausing. He didn’t say anything after looking at the doors. 

“Well I find your lack of lots of things disturbing.” Sonic deadpanned. 

“YOU ARE MAKING IT EXTREMELY DIFFICULT NOT TO EXTERMINATE YOU TOO.” 

“Gee, love you too, buddy.”

Tails connected his tablet to the computer hardware, and the door slid open. The room beyond was a steely white. There was a large panel in the floor, suggesting some sort of hidden compartment. Perfect. 

“You are that good!” Sonic zipped to his side and cheered.

“I know I’m that good, but-” Tails replied.

“That was quick, even for you.” Rouge agreed. “Could be a trap.” 

“IRRELEVANT.” Omega marched into the space.

“Hey, that thing in the floor looks like a good place to start!” Sonic zipped alongside him. “Think you could tear that open?”

Rouge glided into the room and scanned the ceiling. It was perfectly round, that same shiny steely white, though it was more polished than the worn floor. At the far end of the room was a small computer monitor. 

Omega tore the panel off the floor, revealing a cowering Badnik that had a bank vault in its stomach. It attempted to jump out of the compartment in the floor, but before it could do so, Omega grabbed it in his claws. 

“Bingo!” Rouge landed next to him. “Hey, squirt! Get over here and work your magic!” 

Tails finally entered the room. His tablet was in one hand and a data cable was in the other. Omega held the Badnik steady as Tails flew to the back of the Badnik’s head, opened a panel, and plugged the data cable into its port. 

The Badnik went limp. 

The room lights shut off.

The enormous blast doors slammed shut with a crash behind them. 

“Hey!” Sonic ran a ring around the room, only visible by the streak of light from the air friction that he created. 

The monitor in the far side of the room crackled on.

“Well well! Let’s see how many of you. . . ohohoho! Sonic himself!” Eggman clapped his hands together. “And Rouge, as expected, then Tails. . . and Omega.” 

Eggman’s mustache drooped for a second as he said Omega’s name, before he quickly corrected himself.

“Oh come on, Egghead. Usually your traps have a little more style than this!” Sonic said.

“Yes, but I find you haven’t been appreciating them as much lately.” The Doctor replied. “So I’m trying something new.” 

“Um, guys?” Tails said quietly.

“Found it already?” Eggman giggled. “Go ahead and tell your friends what just happened when you inserted that data cable.” 

“It cut the. . .” Tails trailed off into a series of mumbles. 

“DETECTING BLOOD.” Omega shouted.

Sonic dashed to Tails’ side. “Are you hurt? Are you. . . oh, ew!” 

Eggman huffed. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to spoil the surprise. As long as that Badnik was powered, it also held the striker lever in place.”

Rouge ran her fingers over the pins of her own bombs. 

“You now have a few minutes to say your last few words to each other. Have fun!” 

The monitor crackled off and the lights turned back on, leaving Rouge blinking. 

In an instant, Omega began firing against the small visible seam in the blast doors, first with bullets before switching to missiles. Rouge clutched her hands over her ears. Sonic and Tails were doing. . . something. Little scraps of feathers were all over their gloves. She landed beside them to see the small body of a flicky jutting out of the Badnik’s chest.

“Huh. Powered.” Rouge stated what the other two had most likely figured it out.

“The transformer is only animal-to-electrical power! I can’t interface it with my tablet battery. Sonic, I might be able to hook you up to it.”

“I’ll all yours, little bro.” 

Tails absentmindedly handed Rouge his tablet, then pulled wires from the Badnik’s head and began wrapping them around Sonic’s arm. 

“Any luck on the door?” Rouge shouted to Omega. 

Omega put his weapons away and began prying at the door with his claws. 

“Try this!” Rouge tossed one of her bombs to him. 

He turned around, caught it, then placed it on the seam of the doors. He then boosted in front of where Sonic and Tails were working, using his own body to shield them. Rouge got behind him as well and set off the bomb. 

The shockwave caused Omega to stumble forward. Rouge helped catch him. Unfortunately, the door remained much more stable. There was hardly even a scratch.

“Okay, routing in three, two, one. . .” Tails touched two wires together. “Okay, Sonic, start making arm circles!”

Sonic grinned. His hand twitched- and a huge arc flash erupted between two curls of the wire. Sonic’s grin quickly turned into a grimace. All his muscles clenched. 

Rouge landed next to him and kicked him away, breaking the wire that connected him to the Badnik, though not without a painful shock for her as well. She landed next to Sonic and let herself collapse next to him. She checked his pulse- faint, but there. 

Tails dropped his work and tears filled his eyes. 

“Hey, he’s okay!” Rouge called back. “Keep working!” 

“I can’t! It’s clearly got some sort of failsafe preventing larger mammals from being plugged in- we’ve only got thirty seconds left!” 

Rouge stood up again. Tails stood frozen in front of the explosive Badnik. Omega stood frozen as well. And Sonic, well, having him focus more on keeping his own heart beating seemed like the best course of action for him. 

Before she could hobble over to Tails’ side and shake the kid out of his fear, Omega snapped into motion. He pushed Tails aside and peered into the cavity of the Badnik. 

“ROUGE.” He said.

She walked to him. “Yeah?”

“USE MY POWER SOURCE.” 

She stopped in her tracks. 

Tails shook his head. “Omega, your power source is a chaos drive, it won’t work-”

“I CANNOT SELF-TERMINATE. ROUGE. YOU MUST COMPLETE THE LATTER HALF OF THIS ACTION.” 

No, a part of her wanted to scream, I won’t do it. But the more pragmatic side of her knew there was no other choice.

Omega tore off his chest panel. Rouge approached him- and sure enough, when he turned to her, she could see the delicate bundle of feathers wrapped within his parts

Rouge stuck her hands inside, grabbed the straps holding it down and the feeding tube rising out of its mouth, and pulled on both.

Omega slumped forward.

A tiny flicky fell into her hands. Immediately it squealed in pain. 

Rouge went up to the explosive Badnik and found its interior chest cavity to be remarkably similar in build to Omega’s.

“What?” Tails whispered.

“Shut up. How do I get this in there?” 

Tails opened up ports and manipulated wires until there was a clear place to put the bird. Rouge tossed it inside and helped Tails hook everything back up again. 

The explosive Badnik’s eyes started to glow.

The timer on Tails’ tablet stopped. 

Tails stared at the flicky, and flinched with its every twitter and groan.

“Keep working.” Rouge said firmly. “Omega bought us time.” 

“He said he had a chaos drive. . .” Tails whispered.

“Well, you’re lucky he didn’t! So get to work.” Rouge snapped. 

Tails unplugged his tablet and turned to the monitor imbedded into the wall. “The Badnik’s trigger is mechanical, and I can’t modify it without setting it off.”

They came to the monitor. There were no controls or electrical sockets in the visible frame or plating, so Rouge broke panels off until they found a hidden port. Tails plugged in his tablet and got to work. 

Minutes passed in silence. Rouge wandered back to Sonic’s side. He was still breathing, his pulse still pumping, but he was out like a light. The part of his arm that’d had the wire wrapped around it left burns. There was nothing she could do to tend to them now. 

She returns to the flicky.

Omega’s flicky. 

Crudely hooked up with the explosive Badnik. Clearly being drained somehow, even she knew that much. An eternity or more passed. The flicky kept breathing.

“I’ve got it. I think.” Tails said quietly. 

Slowly, the doors rolled open. 

“Soon as we disconnect the flicky, it’s going to go boom again, isn’t it?” Rouge asked.

“And the door shuts again. The timer stopped at ten seconds til detonation.” Tails unplugged his tablet and hung it off his hip. 

“Do you think those doors can hold up to the blast?”

“I think that was the intent.”

“Then let’s drag Sonic and Omega out there,” Rouge pointed to the hallway beyond, “and then we’ll remove the flicky just before we dash out the door. Got it?”

“Yeah. I think.”

Tails picked Sonic up into his arms and took off. Rouge turned to Omega. She grabbed his left handle, and after significant flapping was able to lift him from the ground. They laid the two next to each other around a bend in the hallway, before returning to the circular room.

Rouge dragged the explosive Badnik to the edge of the room, as close to the doorway entrance as she dared to.

“Okay, kiddo. Stand back. Over by them.” She pointed Tails to the back of the hallway. 

“But what if you need-”

“Sonic will never forgive me if you get hurt. I’m not stupid. Go keep an eye on them and I’ll join you.”

Tails took off, hovered around her shoulders for a few seconds, then flew down the hallway. She waited until he was out of sight.

She grabbed the flicky and began unwrapping it from the wires and supports that held it in place. When she finally heard it coo, and the Badnik’s eyes began to dim, she yanked it out of the compartment.

She pulled her hands back through the door seconds before it slammed shut. She then flew as fast as her wings would carry her down the hall, but didn’t quite make it around the corner before the shockwave hit her, sending her to the ground.

She curled herself around the little thing of feathers in her arms as she rolled to a stop. When she opened her eyes again, the flicky twittered softly at her. 

“Are you okay?” Tails dashed over to her side.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” She pushed him off and stood. “Let’s get Omega back.” 

Tails followed her to the yawning chasm in Omega’s chest. One by one she reconnected the parts necessary, before gently working the feeding tube back down its throat. 

Omega’s optics lit up. 

“Did you sucCESSFULLY DEFUSE THE BOMB?” Omega asked. 

“What do you think?” Rouge teased.

Omega rotated his head either direction. “WE ARE NO LONGER IN THE ROOM.” 

“Mhmm.”

“WHERE IS SONIC?” 

“Right beside you.”

Omega’s gaze snapped to Tails. “DO NOT INFORM SONIC OF WHAT HAS TRANSPIRED.”

“I- I-” Tails wrung his tail in his hand, “I can’t promise-”

“Trust me.” Rouge slapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be easier if Sonic doesn’t know.” 

“He’s my brother. I can’t promise that I’ll-”

“DO NOT TELL HIM.” 

“Okay, I-I won’t tell him for now.”

“You can blame me if it all gets out, m’kay?” Rouge squeezed his shoulder. “But really, this is a personal matter. Sonic’s better off not knowing anyway.”

“You’re right.” Tails nodded. 

“Here, look, I’ll help you get Sonic somewhere safe and explain what happened. Omega, are you good to get yourself home?” 

“. . . I WILL CALL SHADOW FOR ESCORT.” 

“Alright. Let me know when you make it back.”

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

Rouge went over and picked Sonic up. She then flew for the exit of the base. Tails followed close behind her. 

[brian-in-finance]

Inside A Hundredweight of Stones • Part 2

🧵 Outlander Starz: The incredible performances this episode absolutely tore my guts out.

Can we just take a moment to appreciate David Berry, who shows us a raw, heartbreaking, and visceral side of Lord John we've never seen before? Episode 711 is a massive emotional journey for John as much as it is for Claire.

Navigating that relationship with Claire is hugely complicated and hugely difficult. I think what we learn about John through that is not only his generosity but also his skill.

We understand how he's survived. That world is so political. You see him being able to bring those skills into a personal setting.

It's been such a privilege to work with David... David as an actor is really brave and absolutely up for pushing himself and his character as far as possible. — LISA CLARKE, DIRECTOR

I think this is probably one of the most challenging episodes I’ve ever filmed…

David was amazing. We talked about it quite a lot. In many ways, it sort of mirrored Lord John Grey. He was much more brave about stepping into the unknown and finding a way through it. — CAITRÍONA BALFE, CLAIRE FRASER

🧵 Outlander Starz: And of course, we have to give it up for Caitríona Balfe, whose performance took my heart and smashed it into a million pieces.

I've always admired Caitríona's work. To know that these storylines were coming up and to get that chance to work with her again on some material that, I think, really challenged both us and everyone, was something that I was really looking forward to. I never felt that there was anyone else that I would rather do that with because I knew that Caitríona was going to be committed, courageous, and bold with the material.

To be led by her in those scenes, to be supporting her in those scenes... her generosity was amazing. — DAVID BERRY, LORD JOHN GREY

🧵 Outlander Starz: Fun fact: SOMEONE was smiling during that wedding... just not who (or what) you think. The scene called for vows said to-camera.

Said David Berry, "I found that quite difficult. I just didn't feel it. I asked for another take, got a piece of tape, drew a little smiley face on it, stuck it next to the camera, and that's what l was giving my vows to. So Lord John is actually wed to a little piece of tape on the side of a camera and not Claire."

🧵Outlander Starz: The mood at Lord John's party may have been somber but Claire's dress was absolutely dazzling. Costume Designer Trisha Biggar called it one of the most complicated, time consuming pieces created in her time on Outlander.

The dress was crafted almost entirely by hand out of teal lace, built in a couture fashion with lace applied on lace (no seams), then covered with over a thousand tiny crystal stones. The stomacher was partly vintage, embellished with pearls, gold thread, and beads.

🧵 Outlander_Starz: And what about Claire's party hair? According to Hair and Makeup Designer Ann McEwan, ladies of the time would use cages in their hair or wigs to add height, which we see on Claire here.

The women of 1700s Philadelphia actually would have had *bigger* more audacious hair than depicted on Outlander but a slightly lower profile helps ensure vision lines on-screen.

Inside A Hundredweight of Stones • Part 2 of 3

Threads 🧵

Remember… this episode is a massive emotional journey for John as much as it is for Claire.

[oddballwriter]

💳💥💳💥💳 THE SYSTEM WITH A METALHEAD I BEG OF YOU!! ( if comfy ofc )

Like short 5'2-5'3 reader who looks SCARY as shit and wears all black+tatted but is super cutesy until someone says the wrong shit and they get absolutely insane?

feel like steven would be like raging heart eyes

( maybe smutty maybe not either wayyy..)

- 🌑

Steven Grant

Steven was scared of you at first, that's for sure. The all black and scary look definitely worked on him

It wouldn't be until you approached him that he realized you weren't going to bite him

He finds the difference between the two of you funny, positively.

To me, he seems more like a listener of ABBA and The B-52, those kind of older songs that are more up beat. Something that some suburban dad definitely has on vinyl

I firmly believe that Steven fucking loves the B-52s for some reason, he just has those vibes

Softer type of music, you know? Definitely not metal

But he does enjoy that you're kind and really nice rather than acting the part of how you look

But the one time when you two were out and someone insulted you both and you proceeded to yell at them and cuss them out was a day that he thinks about a lot. You weren't even yelling at them for insulting you, you just tore them a new one because they insulted him

He felt something that day, and he's not saying that he wants you to yell at him, but if you bossed him around a little then he's going to do it with a tent in his pants

He's too embarrassed to admit that but it's defiantly something that's there and you'll catch on someday

Back to the actual topic though, Steven doesn't like metal but he supports you liking it since it makes you happy

Would attend a concert with you but he'd have ear plugs in so that the music doesn't hurt his ears or stress him out

Also, you will have to leave him in the back because he's not going in the mosh pit, he would not survive. I'm sorry but he's not built for that

Marc Spector

Okay, Marc doesn't really listen to metal, he's not an avid metal listener. But I'm sure he's listened to a few songs and knows the more mainstream bands

He thinks you're cool though. Similar to my HCs for them with a goth partner, he finds it fascinating how you don't care how people perceive you and just be yourself. You're happy and he uses that as inspiration to be himself too

Marc would listen to metal music with you if it comes up, maybe you expand his knowledge of the genre

Do I think he'd handle a mosh pit? No, I think it would stress him out too much. Too much is happening and it freaks him out. Loves seeing you having fun though so go mosh for him

Marc also respects the fact that you're still polite and not true to how people think you would be, but 100% if you tell someone off then he's all for it. You tell 'em!

Since I went on a whole side tangent on Steven's music tastes, it's only right I do it for Marc

Marc sort of shares the same taste as Steven where he listens to songs that were around when they were younger. He's a classics kind of guy. He likes it when he hears people from back then on the radio

This man refuses to leave the 80's and 90's music scene. You will have to pry it from him in the field of reeds

Jake Lockley

Jake is such a "I love all genres" guy, he listens to everything and finds something to like in it. Even country, yeah sure modern country sucks but older ones are the ones he talks about when e talks about country music

So yeah, Jake definitely likes metal and can get into it. So feel free to play it around him

He also thinks you're cool and loves your whole look. Buys a shirt to match

100% would love to see you tear someone a new one so long as they deserve it. This man is an enabler, he's in the back cheering you on

Also, if you ask him to go to a concert with you, he will say yes so fast

Jake would survive the mosh pit, he would thrive

It lets him let out some stuff that he's been holding back and energy that he can't really put anywhere else

Honestly Jake would be so clearly into your whole metalhead life. He thinks it's hot. He finds it sexy. There's something about the loud music and look that does something for him and he's not going to hide that

Honestly, yell at him in bed, it'll be good foreplay if you're down

[theemporium]

hi!! i wanted to request an imagine with all the marauders doing stupid shit to try and compete for the new american transfer’s attention, and she’s extremely bold, sarcastic, and unbothered (bc i’m so tired of seeing y/ns who act like they’ve never had a single social interaction before 😭) and they have a like a bet going on to see who can get a yes from her first, oblivious to the fact that she’s dragging it out to watch them embarrass themselves more LMAO thank you so much 🙌🙌

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“You know they are doing all this to impress you, right?” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched in amusement as you tore your eyes away from the sight in front of and instead turned to look at the redhead settled on the bench next to you. 

“Of course I do,” you answered with a playful scoff. “But who said I can’t have my own fun with it?” 

Lily snorted, a bashful but bold sound. “You’re driving them mad, babe.” 

“But it’s so funny to watch,” you said with a faux pout before you turned back to look at the boys. 

The second you walked through the doors of Hogwarts, the boys were absolutely besotted by you. Maybe it was the pretty smile or the gorgeous face or maybe it was the fact you had all but scoffed at some petty, pureblood wizards who tried introducing themselves to you and snorted when another tried to tell you off for breaking some silly little school rule within the first twenty-four hours since you stepped inside the castle. 

But from that second on, you had held the hearts of the school’s beloved marauders in your hand, for better or for worse. 

“What are they even trying to do this time?” Marlene asked as she approached the two of you, her hands braced on the bench as she tilted her head at the scene in front of her, trying to work out just what she was actually looking at. 

It wasn’t unusual for the boys to go out of their way to gain your attention, you had truly seen it all. From James whooshing past you on his broom after he scored in a quidditch match, calling out your name and honouring the goal to you, to Sirius dancing on the table top in the Great Hall to cheer you up as he serenade you with your favourite song, to Remus all but blurting out random little jokes during class to try and gain your attention. 

It was cute and it warmed your heart. Now, though, you were slightly worried their recent antic would end with the three boys in months’ worth of detention.

“I honestly don’t know,” you murmured honestly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the boys zip about. 

“Are those…muggle fireworks?” Lily murmured with a frown. 

“Muggle fireworks? How different are they to ours?” you asked, briefly glancing at the redhead. 

“Very different,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t think any of them knew how to set them off. It’s not like ours, it’s not a simple spell.” 

You tilted your head. “Is that why Sirius has his lighter?” 

“Probably, but you still have to—“ 

BOOM!

All eyes turned to look at the massive chunk that was now gone from a row of pillars leading out into the courtyard. And just as quickly as people sought out the chaos, their heads twisted around to find the boys standing there, sheepish and flustered at the lacklustre performance they just put on for you. 

“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN!” 

You snorted as their eyes widened at McGonagall's voice booming through the whispers and hushed voices, all three of them scrambling to fix their mess. For the infamous marauders, they got quite sloppy when they were around you. 

“Better run, boys!” you called out to them, a massive grin on your face. “Wouldn’t want my favourite boys in detention.” 

“Your favourite boys?” Sirius repeated, a grin growing on his face. 

“You heard what I said, Black,” you retorted, watching as the boy only shook his head in amusement. 

“We won’t get detention, darling,” Remus assured you, a flush to his cheeks that made him look a little younger than usual, a lot more carefree too. 

“Good, we have a date on Saturday,” you called out casually. 

All three boys halted in their steps but it was James who spoke. 

“Which one?” he asked, something like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

But your grin only widened. “Who said anything about only one of you?”

.