#the settings and the creatures and the little details

[winxanity-ii]

Hello, I'm not sure if the requests are open, so please forgive me! After reading your Gojo x Fem reader FIC "Gamer Gojo," awakened something in me. I wanted to see if I could request a gamer Gojo x Fem reader story, where the reader is really needy after watching Gojo play!😫or something like that feel free to reject this request if you don’t or feel uncomfortable. Thanks!

thanks for requesting and i hope i do your vision justice, forewarning, i might have made gojo a little mean 😩❤️

GAME OVER

ship: gamer boyfriend!gojo x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 9.9k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀)

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You unlocked the front door and stepped into the apartment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla greeting you like a warm hug. Kicking off your shoes by the door, you slung your bag over the back of the dining chair and made your way to the living room.

Satoru was exactly where you'd expected him to be: sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV screen, fingers moving furiously over the controller. His headset was pushed back slightly, his white hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way he always wore it.

"Hey, babe," you called out as you passed by, heading to your shared bedroom.

"Mm, hey baby," he replied absently, his focus never straying from the game. His voice was a low hum, almost drowned out by the sound of in-game battle cries and epic orchestral music.

You couldn't help but smile; it was almost cute how engrossed he could get.

You dropped your bag on the floor and slipped into your comfier clothes—a soft oversized sweatshirt and your favorite pair of pajama shorts. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, wiping your face before heading back to the living room.

As you walked over to the couch, you noticed your little corner already set up: your pillow propped against the armrest, your blanket folded neatly and waiting for you.

Satoru might be lost in his digital world, but he never failed to make sure you had a cozy spot right beside him.

You plopped down next to him, the cushion dipping slightly under your weight. Leaning over, you placed a kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

Even though he was in the middle of a heated battle, he instinctively tilted his head towards you, almost like muscle memory, seeking out your touch.

"How was school?" he mumbled, his eyes still glued to the screen, fingers dancing across the controller with a practiced ease. You settled into your spot, draping the blanket over your lap and fluffing up your pillow.

"Same as always," you sighed, glancing at the TV. "Boring PowerPoints, boring lectures, boring discussion boards."

He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb rapidly tapping the attack button as he took down another cursed creature. "Sounds thrilling."

"What are you playing?" you asked, watching the screen as a dark, mythical landscape unfolded before you.

The game looked familiar—vivid bursts of cursed energy flashed as Satoru's character, a powerful sorcerer, slashed through hordes of enemies. It was the same one you'd seen him playing this morning before you left for class, though the setting now looked far more ominous, like he'd entered some cursed realm.

"It's Sorcerer's Domain: Curse Slayer," he said, his voice dropping as he concentrated, his character weaving through a series of devastating attacks from a towering boss. "A new MMORPG. The graphics are wild, right?"

You watched his hands as he played, fascinated by the speed and precision of his movements. His fingers moved deftly over the controller, each button press deliberate and fluid. The veins on his hands stood out slightly, muscles flexing with each motion as he navigated through the game with a kind of graceful intensity that made it hard to look away.

"Yeah, I mean, look at the detail on that cursed spirit," you mused, squinting at the screen as his character launched a spell that sent a wave of blue energy crashing into the boss.

It staggered, its grotesque form crackling with cursed energy before retaliating with a devastating attack. Satoru dodged it effortlessly, his thumbs moving in perfect synchrony with the game's frantic pace.

"Just playing with some friends," he murmured, his focus never wavering. "We're almost at the final boss level. Shouldn't take long."

You knew what that meant. Whenever Satoru got like this, it was best to let him ride it out. He was hyper-focused, chasing that rush of victory that came with beating a tough boss or clearing a particularly challenging quest.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it, then," you said, patting his knee gently. He hummed in acknowledgment, already diving back into his virtual world.

You reached for your phone and opened up your socials, scrolling through the latest posts and updates.

Time had slipped away, as it always did when Satoru got absorbed in one of his games.

It's been five hours since you'd come home, and he was still glued to the TV, headset on, fingers moving in a blur over the controller.

You'd spent the first hour scrolling through your socials, hoping he'd wrap up soon, but it quickly became apparent that he was in for the long haul.

Sighing, you put your phone down and got up from the couch, stretching the stiffness from your legs. "Might as well get some work done," you muttered to yourself, shooting a glance at Satoru. He was muttering something under his breath, the focused crease between his brows telling you he was neck-deep in whatever dungeon or boss battle he was facing.

You headed up to grab your things, pulling out your textbooks and laptop. It didn't take you long to finish up the few assignments you had left, the work more tedious than difficult. By the time you closed your laptop with a satisfied sigh, another hour had passed.

You looked over at Satoru, half-expecting to find him wrapping things up.

Nope. Still at it.

Shaking your head, you decided to be productive in other ways. You tidied up the living room, folding the blankets and fluffing the pillows. Then, you made your way to the kitchen to tackle the few dishes that had piled up in the sink. The warm water and soapy bubbles helped distract you from the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. You knew he got lost in his games, but this was getting ridiculous.

Once the dishes were clean and drying on the rack, you even managed to carve out some time to catch up on your favorite stories, scrolling through the latest updates from the authors you followed religiously.

It wasn't until your stomach growled that you realized how much time had passed. You glanced at the clock—7:00 p.m. Satoru had been at it since you'd come home, and it didn't seem like he was planning to stop anytime soon.

With an exasperated sigh, you trudged downstairs, your patience wearing thin. You found him in the same spot, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses as he barked a command into his headset, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Hey," you called out, but he didn't respond.

Typical.

You tried again, louder this time. "Hey, babe."

He glanced at you, barely registering your presence before turning back to the game. "Yeah, babe?"

"What do you want to eat? I'm starving."

"Uh, give me a sec." He leaned forward, fingers flying over the controller as he dodged and attacked, his character on screen spinning through a flurry of spells and sword slashes. "Almost done here."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You've been 'almost done' for hours."

"Just a few more minutes, promise," he mumbled, not really paying attention.

You sucked your teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble up again. "Fine, I'm just gonna order Chinese. You want anything?"

"Yeah, sure," he said absently, completely lost in his game again.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone, scrolling through your saved takeout places. You placed an order for your usual dishes and added a few extras for Satoru, hoping that by the time it arrived, he'd be ready to eat.

Spoiler alert: he wasn't.

When the doorbell rang, you jogged downstairs to grab the food. You placed the bags on the counter and called out to him. "Food's here!"

"Okay, just put mine in the microwave, I'm almost done!" he shouted back, his voice muffled by the headset.

Your jaw clenched, the irritation rising again. You were hungry, tired, and honestly fed up with the damn game. But you did as he asked, placing his portion in the microwave before grabbing your own food and heading back upstairs.

You sat on the edge of the bed, chopsticks in hand as you picked at your lo mein. Every now and then, you could hear him shouting at the screen downstairs, his voice filled with excitement or frustration.

You scowled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with unnecessary force.

It wasn't like you weren't used to this. Satoru's gaming marathons were a known habit, something you'd learned to live with. But tonight, it just grated on your nerves.

Maybe it was the long day at school, or the fact that you hadn't really had a moment to spend together since you'd come home.

Whatever it was, you found yourself glaring at the staircase, silently cursing the game that had stolen your boyfriend away for the entire day.

When you finally finished eating, you trudged back downstairs, only to find Satoru still engrossed in his game, the food you'd microwaved for him untouched.

You sighed, putting his plate in the fridge and wiping your hands on a dish towel.

Now, you were seated in your little spot on the couch, legs tucked under you as you pouted at your boyfriend's side profile. Satoru was still fully engrossed in his game, his brows furrowed in concentration as he battled yet another wave of cursed spirits.

You'd been trying to get his attention for a while now—first by poking his arm, then by leaning into his side with an exaggerated sigh. You even went so far as to pull at his sleeve like a child, your lower lip jutting out as you peered up at him.

But all he did was shoot you a distracted glance, a quick "Not now, babe," before refocusing on the screen.

You huffed, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru was usually so playful, always quick to tease or scoop you up in his arms, no matter what he was doing.

But tonight, it seemed like the game had taken complete hold of him.

"Come on, that was bullshit!" he suddenly shouted at the screen, his fingers clenching the controller as his character took a heavy hit. "Seriously? Who designed this wack-ass boss fight?"

You watched as he leaned forward, his frustration bubbling over as he frantically dodged and countered, cursing under his breath as he tried to regain the upper hand.

There was something almost endearing about how seriously he took his games, but right now, you were far more interested in getting his attention than watching him rage at virtual monsters.

"What the hell! Get out of the AoE, you absolute trash-fucker!" he barked into his mic, and you couldn't help but snicker at the ridiculousness of it all.

Even when he was annoyed, he was still so damn dramatic.

You waited a few more minutes, hoping he'd wrap up soon. But when he let out a triumphant cheer, pumping his fist in the air as his character finally landed the finishing blow, you knew you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

Without warning, you shifted closer, throwing yourself into his lap. Satoru jolted slightly, but his eyes never left the screen, his hands still firmly gripping the controller.

You straddled him loosely, your arms sliding around his waist as you pressed your face into his chest, just under his chin. His body was warm against yours, and you could feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat through his shirt.

You curled up a bit more, pressing yourself closer as you mumbled his name.

"'Toru…"

Nothing. No response.

His eyes were glued to the TV, his fingers still working the controls as he maneuvered through another enemy onslaught.

"'Toruuuuu…" you whined again, this time louder, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. You tilted your head slightly, sneaking a glance up at him, but he didn't even look down.

You let out a huff, your frustration mirroring his earlier outburst. You wiggled in his lap, hoping to at least distract him enough to get a reaction. But he merely shifted his weight, adjusting his position to keep you balanced without losing focus.

"...Almost there..." he muttered, his voice low and strained with concentration.

You let out another whine, your breath warm against his chest as you nuzzled closer, your hands clutching at his sides. "Baby, I'm bored."

Still nothing.

You sighed dramatically, tightening your hold on him as you turned your face into his chest, your nose brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and that clean, comforting scent that was uniquely his.

Another few minutes passed, filled with the sounds of Satoru’s character slicing through enemies and his occasional muttered curses.

Every now and then, he'd let out a triumphant shout or a frustrated groan, his fingers never stopping their rapid dance over the controller.

You could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing under your hands, his focus razor-sharp. He was clearly in the zone, but that only made you more determined to break through his defenses.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head just enough to peek at his face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated on the screen.

The faint glow of the TV reflected in his eyes, and you couldn't help but admire the way his lashes cast delicate shadows over his cheeks.

But admiration wasn't enough right now. You needed his attention.

"'Toru..." you whispered again, your voice softer this time, almost a plea. You nuzzled your face against his chest, your lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt as you squeezed his waist gently.

For a split second, you thought he might finally look at you. His fingers paused, his body stilling under yours. But then, he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off a distraction.

"Just a few more minutes, baby," he murmured, his voice distant, already slipping back into the game.

You groaned in exasperation, your forehead pressing against his chest as you let out a muffled scream. You knew he could be stubborn, but this was a new level of obsession.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, curled up in his lap, your face buried against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was soothing, the steady beat of his heart a reminder that, no matter how annoying he could be, he was still yours.

But that didn't mean you were going to let him off the hook that easily.

You pouted harder, leaning back to stare up at his face. Satoru's height always made moments like this a little ridiculous—he barely had to move, just a slight tilt of his head, and he was able to see right over yours, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric as you whined his name again, dragging it out like a petulant child.

"Satoru…"

He only hummed in response, the sound low and absent-minded as he continued to play, his attention still fully on the game.

A small breath of frustration escaped you, and this time, you decided to take more direct action. You reached up and grabbed his chin, your fingers pressing gently into the slight stubble that had started to grow there.

You pulled his face down, forcing him to look at you. His eyes, an intense shade of blue, almost too bright, blinked in surprise as if he were just now remembering you were there.

Up close, you could see every detail of his features—the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, still somehow perfect despite hours of being neglected. His lashes were long, almost absurdly so, casting soft shadows over the tops of his cheeks. And that slight stubble against your fingers felt both rough and familiar, a reminder of all the times you'd traced your hand over his jaw like this.

His eyes, usually sharp and playful, softened as he looked down at you. They were the color of the clearest sky, the kind of blue that held a thousand different shades, each one shifting and changing with his mood.

Right now, they were gentle, full of a warmth that made your heart stutter in your chest. You could see the flecks of lighter blue near the center, the darker ring around the edges.

It was like looking into the endless depths of the ocean, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were mad.

He blinked again, his lips curling into that familiar, handsome smile that made you melt every time. The kind of smile that had gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count, the one that said he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

"Hey there, stranger," he murmured, his voice soft, almost teasing as his eyes roamed over your face.

Before you could respond, before you could get lost in that look he was giving you, something seemed to click in his mind. His eyes widened, the lazy smile dropping as he quickly remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh shit!" he yelped, his head snapping back up to the screen. "No, no, no—damn it!"

You could hear faint shouts from his headset, his teammates clearly panicking as whatever battle they were in started going south. Satoru's face was set in a small grimace now, his brows knitting together as he tried to salvage the situation.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered into the mic, his fingers moving rapidly over the controller again. "I got distracted. My bad, my bad—just focus on the healer, I'll tank this."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his sudden shift in demeanor, his earlier softness replaced with that determined focus you’d seen so many times before.

It was almost comical really, the way he could switch from doting boyfriend to intense gamer in the blink of an eye.

Still, you kept your grip on his shirt, refusing to let him off that easily. You watched as his jaw clenched, the muscles tensing under your fingers as he concentrated on the game. His eyes were narrowed now, the playfulness gone as he leaned forward, his whole body taut with focus.

"Damn it, Gojo!" one of his teammates shouted through the headset, the voice tinny and frustrated. "You almost cost us that round!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Satoru replied, his voice still a bit strained as he navigated his character through another onslaught of attacks. "I'll make it up to you guys. Just give me a sec."

Satoru tried to juggle his focus, his eyes darting between the TV screen and your face. He muttered a string of apologies, his voice laced with a mixture of guilt and distraction. "I'm sorry, babe, really. Just—just try not to do that, okay? I'll be done soon, I promise."

He attempted a quick smile, but his gaze kept flickering back to the game, his fingers never slowing as he guided his character through another barrage of attacks.

It was clear he was torn, wanting to give you his attention but still too wrapped up in the game to fully pull himself away.

Your patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped. You sucked your teeth, the sound sharp and frustrated, and pushed yourself off his lap. "Ugh, I'm just gonna wait upstairs until you're done."

You turned to leave, annoyance radiating off you in waves as you took a step away from the couch. But before you could get far, Satoru's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"Babe, babe, babe, wait!" he pleaded, his voice rushed, almost panicked. He tugged you back a step, his grip loose but insistent. "I'm sorry, really, I am."

Even then, he kept bouncing his attention between you and the screen, his character taking a few hits as he fumbled with the controller. He glanced back at the game, his jaw clenching as he barely managed to block an incoming attack. "I'll be done in a second, okay? Just—please don't go."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your glare piercing as you looked down at him. "You've been saying that for hours, Satoru."

"I know, I know." He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He looked back at the screen, his fingers moving in a blur as he navigated through another complex series of moves, and then back at you, his eyes soft with regret. "Just give me like, ten more minutes. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

You could hear the faint shouts of his teammates through the headset, their voices filled with frustration and urgency as they tried to coordinate. "Gojo, seriously! Pay attention!"

"Crap, I know, I know!" Satoru shot back, his hand still holding your wrist as his gaze flickered between you and the screen. His face was set in a small grimace, the strain of trying to balance his attention clear in the tense line of his jaw, the tightness around his eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh. You knew he was trying, but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, the one who pouted and sulked because her boyfriend was enjoying his hobby. But right now, it felt like you were competing with the game for his attention, and you were losing.

You stood at the foot of the couch, still stewing in your frustration, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

You could feel Satoru's gaze on you, the weight of his eyes as he turned his head away from the screen, his fingers still working the controller almost on autopilot.

"Babe, I swear I'm almost done," he said again, his voice softer this time, a hint of desperation threading through his words. His lips were slightly parted, a pout forming as he looked up at you with those damn blue eyes of his—eyes that were usually so bright and playful but now seemed almost pleading, like he was afraid you'd slip away for real this time.

It was unfair how beautiful he looked, even now, disheveled and slightly sweaty from hours of gaming. His white hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction from where he’d run his fingers through it in frustration. His cheeks were a little flushed, the result of his excitement and annoyance blending together in that way only Satoru could manage.

And those eyes... Gods, those eyes. They were so impossibly blue, like the sky on a perfect summer day, framed by lashes that were almost too long for a guy, making him look absurdly beautiful even in his current state.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as he bit down on his lower lip, a small, almost childlike gesture that made your heart clench. "Please?" he added, his voice almost a whisper now, the sound of it tugging at the frayed edges of your resolve.

You huffed, the annoyance still there, but you could feel it softening under the weight of his gaze. He always did this, made it so damn hard to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that—like you were the most important thing in the world, even when he was being an absolute pain.

"Fine," you muttered, your voice begrudging as you took a step back toward him. "But this better be the last time you ignore me for some stupid game."

His eyes brightened instantly, a smile breaking across his face, wide and brilliant, as if you’d just given him the best news in the world. He shifted the controller to one hand and reached out with the other, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he gently tugged you back onto the couch.

"Thank you, thank you," he murmured, pulling you down onto his lap with an ease that made your heart flutter. He was always so strong, so effortlessly sure of himself, and the way he handled you made you feel delicate, cherished. His lips pressed against your temple, the kiss light and fleeting as he murmured another apology. "I'm really sorry, baby. You know I can't help it sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled, the words half-hearted as you settled against him, your arms slipping around his neck as you straddled his lap once again.

He kissed your cheek, then your forehead, his lips soft and warm as they trailed along your skin. "I'll make it up to you, promise," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear before he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You let out a small hum, your fingers toying with the flyaway hairs at the nape of his neck, the silky strands slipping through your grasp as you absently played with them.

You could feel his muscles shifting under your touch, the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed with every movement, every reaction to the game. His jaw clenched when something went wrong, a soft growl rumbling low in his chest, the sound vibrating through you as you pressed closer.

Your hands slid up from his neck, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble as you leaned into him. He tilted his head slightly, giving you more access as he murmured something under his breath, his lips brushing against your hairline.

You sighed, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

From this position, you could hear every faint growl of frustration, feel the way his chest rumbled with each word he muttered. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand still holding the controller while the other rested on your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your skin.

It was almost mesmerizing, the way his body moved beneath yours, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with every motion.

You could feel the power in him, the strength in his arms as they tightened around you, the way his thighs shifted under yours as he adjusted his position, trying to balance you and the game at the same time.

"Come on, just a little more," he muttered, his voice low and intense, his fingers flying over the controller.

You could see the concentration on his face, the way his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes were focused, but every now and then, he'd glance down at you, his expression softening, his grip on you tightening just a bit, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were still there.

And you were—content for the moment, just resting against him, letting his warmth seep into you.

Your fingers slid back up to his hair, threading through the soft strands as you tugged gently, feeling the way his breath hitched in response.

You pressed your nose against his neck, breathing him in, the familiar scent of him making your heart flutter in your chest.

He let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes flicking down to you for a brief second, his smile a little strained but still undeniably sweet. "You okay, princess?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your fingers still playing with his hair, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you sighed softly. "Yeah, I'm okay."

And you were, even though you knew you'd be annoyed with him again later.

For now, you were content, wrapped up in him, feeling every rise and fall of his chest, every shiver that ran through him as you pressed closer, your face buried in the warmth of his neck.

The longer you stayed nestled in Satoru's lap, the more you became acutely aware of every little detail about him. The way his body seemed to mold against yours, the steady warmth radiating from his skin, and the soft hum of his breath against your ear.

The initial frustration that had simmered earlier was still there, but it had shifted, morphing into something else entirely as you tried to get comfortable, wiggling a bit in his lap.

Your legs tightened around his hips, and you couldn't help but notice how good it felt, the friction sending a small, involuntary shiver up your spine.

You tried to focus on something else—anything else—but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth spreading through your body, the way your skin seemed to tingle wherever it touched his.

You shifted again, a little more deliberately this time, your hips pressing down against his. A soft, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and you buried your face in his neck to hide it, biting down on your lower lip as you tried to steady your breathing.

Satoru's chest vibrated against you with a low chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he brushed his lips along your jawline. "You okay there, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his lips press a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. He was still playing the game, but it was like he could sense the shift in your mood, the way your body was reacting to him.

The bastard always had a sixth sense when it came to you.

"You've been squirming an awful lot," he continued, his tone almost taunting as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "You trying to tell me something?"

You let out a small, frustrated huff, your fingers curling into his shirt as you tried to keep your composure. "N-No," you muttered, though the way your voice shook betrayed you.

"Mm, that doesn't sound very convincing," he teased, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling along the sensitive skin as his other hand tightened around the controller. His voice dropped lower, a breathy murmur that sent a shiver through your entire body. "You're not still mad at me, are you? For being such a bad boyfriend?"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each word he whispered making it harder to think, harder to breathe. "Satoru, you—" You tried to protest, but your voice faltered as he pressed a particularly firm kiss to the base of your throat, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

"What, baby?" he asked, his tone playful, almost mocking as he lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were darker now, a shade of blue that was almost dangerous, and the smirk on his lips was edged with something mean, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. "I'm trying to focus here, and you keep squirming around like that. You making it hard for me on purpose?"

His words, laced with a teasing edge, made your cheeks burn. You tried to pull back, to get some space to think, but he only tightened his hold on you, his fingers digging into your waist as he kept you firmly in place.

"Aw, don't be shy now,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I know I've been a bad boyfriend, ignoring you like that. But you didn't make it easy either, distracting me while I'm trying to win."

You swallowed hard, the heat in your face spreading down your neck, your heart racing as his words washed over you.

There was a roughness to his tone, a sharp edge of frustration that made your breath hitch, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles were coiled tight under your hands.

"'Toru, please—" you started, but he cut you off, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he let out a low, dark chuckle.

"Please what, baby?" he purred, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled against your neck. "Ya'know, if you're so impatient, you could just ride me." His words were like a shot to the heart, and your whole body froze, your breath catching in your chest as you processed what he'd just said.

You pulled back, eyes wide as you stared at him, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something far more dangerous. "W-What?"

Satoru's eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down to your hips, his grip firm as he tugged you even closer. "You heard me," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. "If you're so needy, you can just ride me. I won't stop you."

He shifted on the couch, his body curling in toward you as he caged you in, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he whispered again, his voice dripping with that mean, teasing lilt. "Go on, baby. Show me how badly you want my attention."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your whole body heating up as his words sank in, the implications of what he was saying making your head spin.

You tried to form a coherent thought, to come up with some kind of response, but your mind was blank, your body reacting instinctively as you pressed closer to him.

"'Toru—" you started, your voice trembling, but he just smirked, his hands squeezing your hips as he tilted his head, his eyes lidded and intense as he watched you.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his tone mocking, almost cruel as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You were so eager to get my attention before. Did you change your mind?"

You shook your head, your breath hitching as his words sent another shiver through you, your fingers tightening in his shirt as you tried to find your voice. "N-No, I just—"

"Just what?" he pressed, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he whispered against your throat. "You said you were bored, didn't you? So why don't you entertain yourself, hmm?"

Your mind was reeling, the heat pooling low in your belly as his words wrapped around you, his voice a dark, seductive murmur that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

He was teasing you, taunting you, and the worst part was, it was working.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked up at him, his face so close, his eyes boring into yours with that wicked gleam that made your pulse quicken. "I—"

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice softening just a fraction as he kissed the corner of your mouth, his hands guiding your hips, pressing you down against him in a way that made your breath hitch. "I know you want to."

You felt like your whole body was on fire, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to watch you, his eyes dark and hungry, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he whispered, "Don't make me ask again."

You bit your lip, your gaze fluttering to the side, a clear sign of your defeat. Satoru's eyes lit up with satisfaction, and a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his lips. "Good girl~" he purred, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

Without wasting a moment, his hands moving with an almost practiced ease as he helped you get situated on his lap. His teammates' shouts grew louder, their voices crackling through the headset as they realized he was barely playing, his movements on screen sluggish and inattentive.

"Gojo, what the hell are you doing?"

"Dude, focus! We're gonna lose!"

But Satoru didn't care. His attention was almost entirely on you, his gaze heated as he watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

With one arm, he easily lifted you up, his strength almost dizzying as he held you aloft, giving you just enough space to quickly throw off your shorts and underwear.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the cool air hitting your heated skin making you shiver as you tried to compose yourself.

You moved to straddle him again, your body desperate for the closeness, but he was quicker, his hands gripping your waist firmly. "Whoa, slow it down, babe," he teased, his voice light and teasing as he held you back, his grip strong enough to keep you still.

You gasped as he ran his long, deft fingers along your slit, the touch light and teasing, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his body was in the way, his hips and thighs keeping you spread open for him. "Babe—"

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled lowly. "Such a reactive girl. At least someone’s not mad at me." His words were laced with a smug satisfaction that made your heart race even faster, and before you could respond, he leaned in, licking up the side of your neck in a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling.

His fingers continued their exploration, each movement deliberate and slow, teasing you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He found your entrance, his fingers sliding through your slickness, his touch almost reverent as he circled you with a gentle but insistent pressure.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, your body already aching for more as he continued his slow, torturous teasing.

"Look at you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed your neck, his lips trailing along your collarbone. "Already so wet for me, and I've barely even touched you."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. "Satoru, please—"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a playful cruelty as he slipped one long finger inside you, the motion so slow, so deliberate, that it made you gasp. "Please what, baby?"

You whimpered, your body arching into his touch as he added a second finger, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit in a way that made your vision blur. He moved with an easy confidence, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.

"More?" he teased, his voice a low, mocking whisper as he pressed his thumb down harder, his fingers curling just right. "Is this what you wanted?"

You could barely think, your body already unraveling under his touch. He made it seem so effortless, the way he played you like an instrument, each movement calculated to draw the sweetest sounds from your lips.

You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, the pleasure building with each swipe of his thumb, each curl of his fingers.

It didn't take much for you to come undone, your body shuddering as he worked you through it, his lips pressing against your jaw, your neck, his words a constant, filthy murmur in your ear that only made you fall apart faster.

You could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him as he kept his pace steady, his fingers relentless as he coaxed every last bit of pleasure from you.

And all the while, his teammates were still shouting through the headset, their voices a distant, almost surreal background noise as you lost yourself in the sensation, in him.

But Satoru didn't care. He had you exactly where he wanted you—right in his arms, every breathless moan, every shuddering gasp his to command.

You slumped against his chest, your breath coming in slow, uneven waves as the satisfaction curled through your body, making you feel warm and languid in his hold. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, the rapid beat of his heart thrumming under your ear.

You could still feel the faint aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you, your body trembling slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

But your reprieve didn't last long.

You felt Satoru's fingers tapping lightly against your lower spine, the touch almost teasing as he let out a low, breathless chuckle. "Didn't forget about me, did you, princess?" His voice was smooth, almost mocking, and you could feel the underlying heat in his words, the need that was barely restrained.

He shifted under you, his hips rolling up slightly to press against your core, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched as you felt the prominent bulge beneath you, the hard line of him pressing against your bare skin.

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, his eyes dark and hungry as they trailed over your flushed face. You bit your lip, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself, your body still weak and trembling. But he didn't give you much time to recover, his hands sliding down to your hips as he adjusted your position, his movements firm and insistent.

The friction of his sweatpants against your skin sent a shiver through you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the steady throb of his arousal pressing against your entrance.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, and you took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself as you lifted yourself up slightly, giving him just enough room to free himself from the confines of his sweats.

With a quick, practiced motion, he pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down, his cock springing free and slapping against his lower abdomen.

It was impressive—long and thick, the skin flushed a deep red at the tip, a bead of precum oozing from the slit. A faint white trail of hair led down from his lower abdomen, drawing your eyes down the length of him, and you could feel your mouth go dry at the sight. It twitched against his stomach, the movement almost impatient as it stood proudly between you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a strange mix of excitement and anticipation coiling low in your belly as you looked down at him. The sight of him like this, so exposed, so needy, made your own body react instinctively, your core clenching around nothing as you felt the heat building between your thighs again.

Satoru let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice a low, breathy murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He lifted his hand, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he gripped your waist, guiding you closer. "Don't be shy, baby."

You swallowed hard, your hands moving to his chest as you shifted in his lap, your eyes flicking between his face and the length of him, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to process what you were about to do.

He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his pupils blown wide with lust as he leaned back slightly, giving you the space you needed.

You took a deep breath, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached down, your eyes never leaving his as you positioned yourself above him. You could feel his hands on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he held you steady, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and impatience.

"W-Wait—" you started, your voice barely a whisper, but he cut you off, his grip tightening as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Don't keep me waiting, princess," he murmured, his voice rough and needy as he kissed the side of your neck. "I've been patient long enough."

Your body shuddered at his words, your heart racing as you nodded, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

You could feel the stretch, the slow, delicious burn as he filled you, your breath catching in your throat as you took him in inch by inch, your body trembling with the effort.

He let out a low, guttural groan, his head falling back against the couch as his eyes fluttered shut, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided you down onto him. "Fuck! Yeah, that's it, baby," he breathed, his voice strained and rough. "Just like that."

You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched you, filled you, the sensation almost overwhelming as you finally settled in his lap, your body flush against his.

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as he looked up at you, his eyes dark and half-lidded, a small, almost dazed smile on his lips.

"There you go," he murmured, his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks as he looked at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Such a good girl for me."

You could only lick your lips, your own eyes dazed with lust as you stared up at him, feeling completely intoxicated by the sensation of him filling you so perfectly.

It was like he was made for you, every inch of him fitting just right, and you could barely think past the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

You felt weightless, almost dizzy, and it took everything in you just to keep breathing, your chest heaving as you tried to steady yourself.

Satoru took a few more seconds, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his eyes drinking in the sight of you on him as if committing this moment to memory.

But then his entire expression shifted, his eyes narrowing, the gentle touch of his hands replaced by a firm grip on your waist. He suddenly jolted his hips up in a sharp, powerful thrust, his fingers digging into your skin as you gasped, your body arching in response.

With his other hand, he picked up the controller, his lips pulling up into a wicked smirk as he leaned back against the couch, his posture casual, almost lazy, despite the intensity of his gaze.

"Alright, baby," he murmured, his voice low and taunting. "Time to ride."

You couldn't even respond, your body moving almost on its own as you began to follow his command, your legs trembling as you lifted yourself up and then sank back down onto him. The sensation was overwhelming, each movement sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you felt him stretch and fill you again and again.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for support, your nails digging into his skin as you moved slowly, your body vibrating with every slight jolt of his hips as he met your movements with his own.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the pleasure building with each roll of your hips, each shift of your weight.

Satoru's reaction was almost maddening.

He was still playing the game, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on the screen, his fingers moving over the controller with a practiced ease. But his breathing was heavier now, each inhale a little sharper, a little more labored.

Every now and then, a small groan would escape his lips, his fingers tightening on the controller as he struggled to keep his focus. But he was still holding it together, still managing to play the game, his gaze flicking between you and the screen as if he were watching both of his worlds collide in the most delicious way.

It was almost infuriating, the way he could be so composed, so focused, even as you were falling apart on top of him.

You could feel the frustration and desire swirling inside you, the steady rise and fall of your hips turned into something more desperate, more needy.

You started to grind down against him, your body trembling with the effort, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you chased that high, the friction of him inside you almost too much, and yet not nearly enough.

You bit down on his shoulder, your teeth sinking into his skin just enough to muffle the sounds threatening to spill from your lips as you rocked against him, the pleasure continuing to build.

The warmth inside you was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with each desperate grind of your hips. Your thoughts were dissolving, your mind consumed by the need to reach the end.

But Satoru, damn him, was still so composed, so infuriatingly in control, even as his breath hitched and his muscles tensed beneath your touch. He was watching you with that same dark, intense gaze, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as he leaned back, his fingers digging into your waist as he guided you, his voice low and teasing as he murmured, "That's it, baby. Don't stop. Show me how much you need it."

And you did, your body moving faster, more erratic as you chased that high, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure built to a dizzying peak.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your whole body trembling with the effort, and you knew you were close, so close, but you needed more.

You needed him.

Before you could say anything, Satoru's hips jolted up in a sudden, forceful thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you that had you letting out a sharp squeak, your entire body tensing as you clenched around him.

The reaction it pulled from him was immediate—a low, whiny groan slipping from his lips, his head falling back against the couch, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the tight squeeze of you around him.

That sound—it sent you spiraling, your mind going blank with the need to hear it again, to feel that desperate intensity between you.

You could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him, his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and restraint.

The sounds of your bodies moving together, the wet, obscene noises of him thrusting into you filled the room, almost drowning out the distant shouts from his headset.

The headset he'd been wearing slipped down to his neck, hanging awkwardly as the commotion and shouts from his teammates on the other end grew quieter, almost like they were stunned into silence by what they were hearing. But Satoru didn't seem to care anymore, his grip on the controller loosening until he finally just threw it to the side, muttering a rough "Fuck it," under his breath.

He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, and then he began thrusting up into you with a pace that left you breathless, his movements quick and forceful, each stroke long and deep.

You couldn't hold back the sounds now, your voice coming out in a series of warbled, wanton moans that felt too loud, too raw, filling the space around you.

You tried to bite down on his shirt to muffle the noise, but it was impossible, your whole body shuddering with each powerful thrust, your mind lost to the pleasure coursing through you.

In the back of your mind, a small, fleeting thought reminded you that his teammates could probably hear everything, but the haze of lust and pleasure had made it impossible to care. All that mattered was him, the way he was moving inside you, the way he was filling you so completely, so perfectly, that it left you trembling.

"Gods, you feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tight, so wet... squeezing me like you never want to let go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the filthy praise, the heat pooling low in your belly as he continued to thrust up into you, each movement more desperate, more intense than the last. "You like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low and almost cruel as he rocked his hips up again, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Like being my good girl?"

You could only nod, your head falling forward as you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on, tried to keep yourself together. But he was relentless, his pace punishing as he fucked up into you, his hands guiding you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Come on, baby, don't hold back now," he murmured, his voice dripping with that dark, teasing lilt that made your whole body thrum with need. "Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let me hear what a mess you are for me."

His words broke something inside you, your body shaking as you moaned loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure washed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming.

You could feel him shifting, his hand moving between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, quick circles that had you seeing stars.

Satoru's hips slammed into you, his thrusts fast and rough, his breath coming in harsh pants as he continued to fuck you, his fingers working you with a skill that made your head spin.

You could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable, your entire body trembling as you teetered on the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" he growled, his voice strained, his teeth grazing against your neck as he kept up that relentless pace, his hand never stopping its assault on your clit. "Come on, I know you're close. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing, the last push you needed as your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat as you shattered around him.

You could barely hear yourself, your moans loud and desperate as you came, your entire body shaking with the force of it, your mind going blank as the pleasure crashed over you in waves.

Satoru wasn't far behind, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more frantic as he chased his own release.

With a final, deep thrust, he let out a low, filthy groan, his head falling back against the couch as he came, his body trembling beneath yours as he filled you completely.

You could feel the heat of him, the way he pulsed inside you, his breath ragged as he held you close, his hands still gripping your hips as he rode out his own high.

With nothing but your shared pants filling the room, Satoru shifted you gently, the movement drawing soft whines and groans from both of you as the overstimulation hit like a shockwave.

He carefully adjusted his position, cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek.

You looked up at him, your vision hazy with the lingering remnants of pleasure, and saw the gentle concern etched into his features. His usually playful eyes were soft, almost vulnerable, as he searched your face.

"I'm really sorry for ignoring you earlier," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost hesitant as if he were afraid you might still be upset. "I hope you aren't still mad at me."

You managed a tired smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you leaned up to press a soft, chaste kiss to his chin, the best you could reach in your current state.

Your body felt heavy, languid, the exhaustion of everything catching up to you. "It's okay, 'Toru" you whispered, your voice hoarse but sincere. "We both get hyperfocused sometimes. Just... let's try to plan days like this better, okay?"

This was just how Satoru was—easily distracted, but always committed to seeing things through.

You couldn't really fault him for it, not when it was one of the things you loved most about him. "I know you don't mean to ignore me, but just... talk to me. Let me know when you're in the zone like this, and we can work around it."

He nodded, his eyes soft as he listened, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a slow, comforting motion. "Yeah, you're right. I'll do better. Promise."

Before either of you could say anything else, a voice crackled through the headset still hanging around his neck, the sound startling in the quiet, intimate space.

"Shiiiit, the way y'all were fucking, I hope she still not mad either!"

The rest of his teammates erupted into laughter, their voices loud and boisterous as they teased and joked, clearly unbothered by the fact that they’d been privy to far more than they’d bargained for.

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at Satoru, his expression mirroring your own.

For a split second, you were both frozen, caught between embarrassment and disbelief.

Then, with a hasty curse under his breath, Satoru reached over, fumbling with the headset as he tried to switch it off, his fingers slipping in his rush. "Goddamn it," he muttered, finally managing to yank it off and toss it aside, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

You couldn't help it—the absurdity of the situation, the sheer ridiculousness of being caught like this by his friends, it all came crashing down on you, and before you knew it, you were laughing, the sound breathless and a little hysterical as you buried your face in his chest.

Satoru looked down at you, his lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face, but the sound of your laughter was infectious, and soon he was joining in, his laughter a low, rumbling sound that made his chest vibrate against yours.

"I can't believe this," you managed to gasp between giggles, your shoulders shaking as you clung to him. "I'm never gonna be able to look at them again."

He shook his head, still chuckling as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Don't worry, baby. I'll just have to kick their asses next time we play.”

You snorted, your laughter finally calming as you rested your head against his shoulder, the embarrassment still there, but tempered now by the warmth of his embrace. "You're unbelievable."

"Yeah, but you love me," he teased, his voice soft and teasing as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Yeah..." You sighed, your heart swelling with affection as you snuggled closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. "...I do."

"Good," he murmured, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. "Because I love you too."

And for a moment, everything else faded away—the embarrassment, the laughter, the lingering heat of what had just happened.

All that mattered was the warmth of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart, and the quiet, undeniable truth that no matter what, you'd always be his, and he'd always be yours.

A/N: y'all i think i'm broken, i can't seem to write straight forward smut without making a plot w/ it 😭😭💔 i hope y'all don't get tired of me doing it, but my mind won't let me get freaky until i picture it all like a movie 😔

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: angels

Want some cool fictional angels? Good news! Whether you prefer traditional winged angels, scary eldritch angels, possibly-human-angels, incredibly creative in-name-only-angels, angels separated from or exploring concepts of faith and religion, romance, horror, fantasy, or sci-fy; this list is sure to offer something to chew on!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Historical fantasy angels

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb*

The angel Uriel and the demon Little Ash have been friends for centuries, living and studying together in a small jewish community in Europe. But times are changing, and many of the community have left for a new life across the sea. When one of these emigrants go missing, Uriel and Little Ash decide to leave their peaceful life and go find and, if needed, save her.

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèli Clark

Set in an alternate 1910’s steampunk Cairo, where djinn and other creatures (among other things, creepy steampunk angels) live alongside humans. We get to follow an investigator as she races to catch a criminal using a powerful object to control djinn and stir unrest. Fantastically creative and fresh, and also features a buddy cop dynamic between two female leads as well as a sapphic romance.

The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison*

Sherlock Holmes retelling. After having been injured fighting a war against fallen angels, Doyle returns to London to survive on only a veteran's pension. To afford a place to live in the city, Doyle finds a housemate in Crow, and eccentric angel with a great curiosity for humans and a knack for solving crime. And London needs its protector - supernatural beings walk the streets, and a someone going by the name Jack the Ripper terrifies the citizens at night.

Modern day fantasy angels

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi

Novella, young adult. Bitter is an art student in Lucille, a city on the brink. Injustice plagues the citizens and protests shake the streets, and Bitter doesn't know where her place his - whether to fight or stay safe. When her art calls upon a creature of bloody justice, she must ask herself just how far she’s prepared to go and what price she’s ready to pay for justice.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

Young adult portal fantasy. Young Karou is a student in Prague, but she’s also a mystery. She fills sketchbooks with drawings of monsters, trades in wishes, speaks languages that aren't all human, and has hair that grows out blue. When strange signs start appearing around the world - handprints scorched into doorways by winged strangers - will Karou finally find out who she really is?

Angelfall by Susan Ee*

Young adult post apocalypse. Six months ago, the angels descended on the Earth - and brought the apocalypse with them. Between ruling street gangs and vicious angels, Penryn is just trying to keep her family alive. When angels fly away with her little sister, Penryn does the unthinkable: strikes a deal with an injured and outcast angel to rescue her.

A Madness of Angels by Kate Griffin*

Urban fantasy. Two years ago, sorcerer Matthew Swift was killed. Today, he woke back up. And he isn't alone in his body, but rather in the company of the blue electric angels, who lived in the telephone lines and are now experiencing the world for the first time through him. Now, he seeks vengeance not only against the one who killed him, but also against the one who brought him back.

The Fall that Saved Us by Tamara Jerée*

Cassiel is of angelic heritage, raised to fight and kill demons alongside her family. But Cassiel has left the hunt and her family behind, wanting a normal life. For three years she's built a life for herself, cut off from her family, but now a demon has found her, sent to collect her soul. Except, the demon isn't any more interested in following the orders of her family than Cassiel is. Can they work together to free themselves from the expectations placed on them? Sapphic romance.

Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron*

Young adult, sapphic main character. When angels started falling from the sky, the world went mad. So far not a single angel has survived the fall, but that doesn't stop teenage Jaya's father from growing an obsession with catching one, going as far as uprooting the entire family to Edinburgh in hopes of finding one. Jaya, busy mourning the recent loss of her mother, finds his obsession pointless - until an angel crashes right at her feet. What’s more, it's alive...

Full on fantasy angels

Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse

Novella. During Heaven's War, the rebel Abaddon died and fell. Now, long after, what remains of his body is a valuable element called divinity, which is mined by Fallen, descendants of those who fell and the only ones capable of perceiving divinity. Celeste, a Fallen raised among the privileged Elect, is deeply protective of her little sister Mariel. When Mariel is accused of having murdered an Elect, it’s up to Celeste to find out what really happened and save her sister.

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Middle grade. In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon: an animal companion who follows them throughout life. When children begins being stolen off the street, among them Lyra's friend, she must embark on a great journey to save him, taking her to the furthest north - and beyond. A note: the angels do not appear until the second book, however this trilogy is very much worth a read from the start.

Gunmetal Gods by Zamil Akhtar

Dark fantasy inspired by the crusades. Seeking revenge, Micah the Metal leads an army of men baptized i angel's blood against the kingdom that stole his daughter. It’s up to Kevah, legendary fighter, to stop him and save his people. But ever since losing his wife a decade ago, Kevah has lost his fighting spirit. To defeat Micah, he must find it within himself a will to live again. While featuring (scary eldritch) angels, they serve more as a driving background/world-building force than as actual characters.

Horror angels

The Unnoticeables by Robert Brockway

Angels watch over humans, but not to protect us but to solve us, seeking to make the universe more efficient and clean away the undesirable. Carey, a 70s punk, doesn't like the idea of being solved. Watching fellow punks disappear off the streets, he becomes embroiled in a dangerous conspiracy. Decades later, stunt woman Kaitlyn has her own encounter with the angels and their creations - as well an older punk who might have the answers she needs.

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

Young adult post apocalypse. The world has ended, and sixteen-year-old trans boy Benji is on the run from the cult that caused armageddon. Infected with the bioweapon they released to bring about the end, Benji is slowly transforming into something not quite human and desperate to find someplace safe. When coming across a group of surviving teens, Benji finds something new to fight for. No traditional angels, but it does play with the concept.

Angel Radio by A.M. Blaushild

Young adult post apocalypse. A week after strange and terrifying angels appeared, humanity is dead. Sole survivor of her town, teenage Erika is left wandering on her own. That is, until she catches an odd broadcast on the radio which lures her into the newly emptied world. There she encounters dangerous creatures, but also fellow survivor Midori, who has a cryptic connection to the angels.

Sci-fi angels

Archangel Protocol (LINK Angel series) by Lyda Morehouse

Cyberpunk. In a future where religion has become the law of the land and people spend as much time in cyberspace as in reality, ex-cop Deirdre has lost everything after having been accused of a crime she didn't commit. When approached by a man calling himself Michael and asked to solve the mystery behind the so called link angels - supposed angels who show themselves in cyberspace - Deirdre is given a chance at redemption and answers.

Archangel by Sharon Shinn

For twenty years, archangel Raphael has ruled over the lands, leading to corruption among both angels and mortals. Now the time has come for the angel Gabriel to become archangel, but first he must find his Angelica, a mortal woman chosen by Jehovah to be by his side. But his chosen partner, Rachel, has lived under oppression and fear, and she has her own ideas of what she wants - ideas that don't include Gabriel.

Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds

On a dying earth, society is separated by zones in which the laws of reality shift, allowing for different levels of technology and life. At the top of Spearpoint, the only surviving city, lies the Celestial zone, in which only angels can survive. Quillon, former angel who's had his wings removed and body changed so he can survive and infiltrate the lower zones, has been in hiding for years when he receives a warning that his former people are hunting him. Forced on the run, Quillon must leave Spearpoint for the dangerous wastes beyond, where he will discover ancient secrets of his world.

Space angels

Dust by Elizabeth Bear

In a dying spaceship, orbiting an equally dying sun, noblewoman Perceval waits for her own gruesome death. Having been captured by an opposing house, her wings severed and life forfeit, Perceval’s execution is imminent - until a young servant charged with her care proves to be Perceval’s long lost sister. To stop a war between houses likely to doom them all, the two flee together across a crumbling, dangerous spaceship. At its core waits Jacob Dust, god and angel, all that remains of what the ship once was. And he wants Perceval. Sapphic and asexual characters, however be prepared for kinda fucked up relationships.

The Outside by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existential crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired sci-fi where reality is warped and artificial gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Space opera inspired by Joan of Arc. Misery Nomaki possesses rare stone-working abilities usually found among only saints and the voidmad. Not believing herself the be former and desperately not wanting to become the latter, Misery is trying to keep a low profile. Her attempt fails when the voice of an angel - or a very convincing delusion - leads her to become the centerpiece of a dangerous battle between two warring factions hoping to use her. Very unique and cool conceptually, but a little all over the place in how it handles its plot.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Dusk in Kalevia by Emily Compton

Toivo Valonen is a secret agent in more ways than one. An angel masquerading as human, he's acted as a source of hope for humanity in wartime throughout history. In 1960, he embarks on an undercover mission to Kalevia, allied with a rebellion against the government. In his way is fellow angel and rival agent Demyan Chernyshev, who’s working for the KGB.

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard

Having just barely survived the Great Houses War, much of Paris lies in ruins. Morningstar, founder of the House Silverspires, has gone missing, and something is stalking the people within the House's walls. Three people, a Fallen, an alchemist, and a man wielding spells from the far east, may be prove to be Silverspire's salvation.

The Worst Perfect Moment by Shivaun Plozza

Young adult. Sixteen-year-old Tegan is dead and i heaven. There, she's supposed to be reliving her happiest memory. Except the moment Tegan has been placed in isn't very happy at all. Guided by an angel, Tegan is brought through her past to understand what most matters to her. If she fails to see the happiness in her assigned memory, the consequences would be dire for both her and the angel.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith, City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey

[wren-likethe-bird]

wren rambles about the borderlands movie in tags

[madpiemagpie]

i just watched pacific rim for the first time and dang, tumblr did not lie to me, that was a fun movie

but like instead of becoming obsessed w ms. mako mori like i expected, i cannot stop thinking about the color grading

[aeriona]

IT’S MY BOY! FANE! LOVE HIM! MY SON!

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[selineram3421]

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanon 1

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[fanaroff]

DP x DC: Downed Danny Prompt

The Justice League are enlisted/hired by the GIW to capture and contain a dangerous ecto-entity. With the media blackout of Amity Park, the JL only have Constance’s input on these types of creatures. Since dangerous beings of the Infinite Realms, ones with intent on destruction, are the ones known to leave the Realms, the JL believe the GIW and begin to work with them on a plan.

The GIW have a ghost contained as bait. A big white creature covered in fur and ice, not unlike descriptions of yeti. It growls and howls at anyone that happens to come near or make eye contact. It speaks in what seems to be a mix of Esperanto and static. What is understood from it tends to be along the lines of “destroy you if you-“ before whatever is said is lost to ear-splitting static.

The creature is all claws and danger and does little to make the JL think that the entity they are after is not a villain. It only makes it seem more likely.

With a trap set far north, above any human civilization that could get caught in the crossfire, and following the tracking path the entity seems to be taking (following the bait), they wait to enact their plan. Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton work with them to create the weapons and containment unit that can burst on with the press of a button.

When the entity appears, the JL do not expect it to look like a child. At least, not this much. All lanky limbs and awkward posture, it almost seems the perfect image of a teenager. Until one notices… the uncanniness. Bright, wild, green eyes that reminds Batman of one of his sons. Untamed white hair that drifts without a breeze. Claws. Fangs. It’s not human.

It barks something that strange screeching mixed language at them. It’s angry and has spotted the bait. It says the same thing, this time it’s hands light up green. Demanding. Its stance changes. It’s looking for a fight.

The yeti says something back that seems to only anger the entity further. Its fangs seems to grow longer, nails sharper, eyes brighter, and it aims a hand in the general direction of those present, outside of the yeti.

This is “Phantom.” The ecto-entity the GIW have been after for its destruction on the living plane for years. The one that seems hundreds of years old with pottery and paintings and crafts backing up the claim. It needs to be stopped. So the JL don’t hesitate.

The skill sets of ghosts were explained early on, so each member is ready with a Fenton-made weapon. Phantom’s eyes only harden when they aim them towards him.

Rather than immediately fight, like they assumed it would do, it flies straight towards the yeti. And suddenly, it’s falling.

None of the JL took the shot, but one of the Fenton’s (bundled in ghost proof arctic gear and holding the strongest hitting weapons), did.

Phantom goes down, hard.

The yeti flips out, growling and pulling at the exit chains that bind it. It’s making horrible, gut wrenching sounds and pulling towards the downed ghost until the binds break and it’s leaping towards it. The GIW slam on the ghost shield containment unit and the two are trapped together.

It’s only when the yeti is making mournful cries, holding a small shape as close as it can, green spilling and staining the white, white snow does the JL think that maybe, just maybe, they fucked up. That they should have done more research rather than blindly trust a group that convinced them that they only have humanity’s best interest.

*Feel free to use or add to it. I may make a full detailed one-shot of it soon too

[ozzgin]

On the topic of shameless monster fuckers… Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

The Monster under your bed loves haunting you. You see, scaring someone is an art few can master. One has to apply just the right amount of fright in order to have the poor human on their toes, yet perpetually clueless. Too much, and one risks unwanted exposure. Too little, and it wouldn’t be fun.

So, he settles for humble, yet efficient tricks. Creaks of the floor, a faint scratch underneath your bed. Did something touch your leg just now? He cackles in delight every time you jolt, or gasp, or bend over to check for the source of all these mysterious sounds. Useless.

Tonight he returns for his routine. The room is pitch black, and he drags along his grotesque limbs in skillful silence. As he lowers himself, his smirk abruptly falters, eyes wide in disbelief.

You’re lying in his very own spot, pillows strategically scattered, fingers joined together like a maiden about to say the lunchtime prayer. An impertinent smile crosses your face, cheeks dusted hot pink.

“Finally. I almost fell asleep waiting for you”, you declare, batting your eyelashes.

Was his long-standing, methodical approach flawed? Could it be? The shadow creature omitted one vital detail, one absurd possibility: that you could reverse the roles. Very well, now what? Have you come to seek your revenge? Do you truly believe you have the slightest chance against an ancient, unholy being of no creation or beginning?

Here’s another mistake - assuming your intention was that of confrontation. Thankfully he is quick to catch his own fallacy. He notes your circumstance: defenseless, curled in a tight, cramped space, with no escape. You have set yourself for failure. Before he can consider your reasoning, you pull him underneath, your small hands holding onto the cold, rugged surface of his blasphemous body.

Tonight you won’t be getting much sleep, yet for different reasons.

[More Monsters]

[ineffectualdemon]

Shen Qingqiu decided he wasn't going to spend the next 5 years moping!

He had the author up talk to! He could finally ask all the world building questions and get all the monster details he wanted!

With that in mind he grabbed his favourite bestiary and walked elegantly to An Ding.

He definitely did not run like a little kid eager to talk to their friend about the latest power ranger episode.

He let himself into the other's leisure house, ignoring the disciples who tried to stop him.

"So," Shen Qingqiu began setting the bestiary in front of a very startled Shang Qinghua, "I have questions." He continued as he opened the bestiary to an illustration of a creature made of darkness and tentacles. With too many mouth and even more teeth.

"Ah" Shang Qinghua began after squinting at the page "Would."

He smiled up at Shen Qingqiu as if he was happily playing a game.

Shen Qingqiu meanwhile went completely still. His face blank and his fingernails digging into to the wood of the desk as that word bounced around his suddenly void of a brain.

They say the cry of "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WOULD'!?!????!!!!" was heard all across the peaks and even into the foothills.

The sight of the Xiu Ya sword chasing the An Ding Peak Lord all across An Ding was reserved for the disciples of that peak alone.

They would have interfered but their Shizun didn't seem in any real danger and judging from the cackling was actually enjoying himself for once.

[plushlikecreaturesgallery]

Please read!! - a friendly reminder

Hello, I'm a refugee facing deportation (info here.)

I'm a polymer clay artist, and I take custom orders of ocs/fursonas. I love creating very detailed work. The customs are sculpture sets with up to 3 little accompanying figurines.

So if you like my work and have been thinking about commissioning art of your characters, plus you'd like to help me avoid getting deported, please check out my shop!!!

Reblogs super appreciated! Thank you for reading!

Below are some pictures of my work. (dragons and ponies are my specialty, but I do make other creatures when it comes to fursonas, since I find their designs often match my style.)

[indecisivemuch]

The Pact

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).

Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.

Word count: 3.4k

You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.

Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 

Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.

Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 

To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.

“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”

“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”

“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 

Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 

“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”

“Why?” Luke questioned.

“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”

Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.

Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.

“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”

“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”

A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.

“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 

Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 

“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.

A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’

“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Deal.”

Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.

During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.

“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.

Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.

Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 

Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.

However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.

However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.

You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 

You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.

“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.

“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.

With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 

“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.

“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”

“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 

“...No, but—”

“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”

“Show up to what?”

“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”

“Where did he leave the note?”

“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”

“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 

Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 

“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.

“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.

“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.

“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.

That was when everything made sense.

“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.

“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 

You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”

Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.

“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?

So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.

All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.

“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.

However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?

“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.

“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”

You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.

“I want you.”

And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.

“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”

“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.

“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.

“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.

Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 

“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.

“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.

Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 

Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:

Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).

Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).

Step 3. Confess (tick).

Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).

-------------------------

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 10 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 10 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

This update spans part 158 to part 191.

BAHAHAHAHAHA THEY'RE AT THE CORAL SEA (not "in" it yet, more like at the surface level of it) AND JAMIL'S ALREADY UPSET OVER THE LOCALE

Jamil comes up with the smart idea of using ice magic to make a boat for them all. Silver takes up the oars (how princely lmao) and Ortho praises the second years for being so reliable!

WEL;ANJFDBIUGSOGSBIAF THAT BOAT DIDN'T LAST LONG, LITERALLY ONLY A SINGLE PART BEFORE WE CAPSIZE????? We see a dark and gloomy place with an abandoned ship, similar to where Ariel was exploring in the opening of The Little Mermaid. The gang can breathe though, since Idia hacked in bubbles around each person to provide them with an air dome made of magic nanomachines.

THERE HE IS FELLAS, MERMAID FLOYD PULLED UP. Mmm, interesting?? He sounds really flat and bored, expressing that he no longer has an interest in land creatures since everyone was weak + so easily deceived by Azul. Floyd also seems to report that Azul has found success with Mostro Lounge...? And Jade is probably supporting him there.

Floyd tells us that he's been traveling Twisted Wonderland in his dream world. He's been to the Shaftlands (Fairest City??) to try out the latest fashion and model (but got bored because he was asked to work exclusively with the brand), worked part-time in a restaurant in the Sunshine Lands (but got bored because so many people wanted to eat his food), and exploring the Scalding Sands. Floyd wandered the desert and found a black magic lamp in the Cave of Wonders and decided to bring it home because Jade said "the teapot" would be nice to have. Floyd summoned the genie and used it to wish for delicious food, www

He mentions having plans to visit other places too, like the Queendom of Roses, Briar Valley, Sunset Savanna, etc. (Floyd's looking for a challenging opponent to fight!!) But now he has returned to the sea, even though he considers it boring too. Floyd basically tells them to fuck on off and then stares floating around depressingly.

Idia theorizes that Floyd must be "resetting" his dream again and again since Malleus has set the parameters to achieve a "happy ending". Since Floyd is constantly dissatisfied, the dream continues to scrounge for something that will please him. The happiness never really lasts long though. The group decides that they have to provide him with that strong foe he wants to shock him awake!

OH MY GOD Silver and Jamil just walk up to Floyd and tell him he’s in a dream. Of course he doesn’t believe them????? But then they start telling him stories of things that happened irl including clarifying what it was that Floyd had done to disrupt his own first year opening ceremony. Apparently he grabbed Riddle’s hair and went “oh, it’s bright red but it isn’t hot”, which led into a massive fight with Riddle shooting fire at him. The staff (specifically Vargas) had to hold Riddle back. There’s another story of how Floyd tried to fight Cater but Cater used his UM to hold Floyd back and bro wiped hard 💀 According to Idia, Malleus and Leona also beat Floyd in combat.

Jamil talks about how sometimes Floyd would find it hard to keep up with him and/or how Floyd would get in trouble for wailing on the younger kids in their club. The headmaster wasn’t happy and made Floyd clean up the gym for a week

Wh A t😭 Grim recalls how Octavinelle made us HOMELESS in book 3 (and then how they got their asses beat BUT I’M BAWLING AT THE AUDACITY)

The dream manifests a fake Jade and Azul to drag Floyd deeper… We finally get a non-OB octoform Azul to look at!!

They goad Floyd and say he shouldn’t lose to land creatures, so beat them back and then the three of them can live peacefully in the sea together. Silver warns Floyd not to listen to the fake Jade and Azul, but he ends up not needing their help??? Instead Floyd blows up at the fakes and claims Jade and Azul would never say such boring things. Like, he actively gets SO pissed off that they’re borrowing their faces and voices to try and deceive him 😭

They tell Floyd about what’s going down and he’s delighted??? He starts calling out locations and the dream responds to it, he thinks it’s so interesting. Idia and co. panic because this spike in activity could alert Malleus OTL

They theorize that Jade’s dream may take place in the mountains, so Floyd should change into a land form.

When they change to Jade’s dream, Floyd praises Silver’s UM. Silver is flattered but Jamil is thanking the stars that someone mindful like Silver has Meet in a Dream and not Floyd. He says Floyd would probably abuse the UM and give people nightmares lmao

Now they’re in a part of the Coral Sea that has tons of underwater volcanos. Floyd saves us all from a blast of black smoke from one of the vents. Idia warns the air domes are not strong, so one blast from the smoke could drown them all.

Floyd suggests Idia make merforms for everyone. However, Idia says it’s hard to do, especially on a short time frame, since he lacks data on merpeople.

OOOOOH Floyd reveals his bioluminescence!! Looks so pretty aaaaaaah ✨ (He calls it “counter illumination”?)

J WORD SiGHTING

OOOOOH I GET IT, the volcanic vents are like the sea’s equivalent of “mountains”. He and dream!Azul are exploring this area looking for a gold mine or something. Interesting that Jade dreams of still assisting Azul for fun…

sguaddr(dFacFFh ??!!\!]]!£]!] AZUL????? He got hit by a blast from the vent while casting magic on it to get to some gold ore he spotted. Jade gets a good laugh out of it.

WHO THE FuCK ARE yoU, WhY Sre your eyes SO Big AnD WAtERY

Azul tearfully declares he won’t give up and Jade gases him up 😭 YOUR DREAM IS TO BULLY AND ENABLE HIM??????? WOW J WORD

Floyd claims he would never go mountain climbing with Jade but then—

WhAT YHR fUVkinh FVkkkKKKKKKKKKK

THAT’S DREAM!FLOYD?????!!?!!! HE LOOKS SO FRIGHIn DERPY 😭 😭 😭 BRo JUST StARTS EATINg SHRIMP AnD HAPPILY GOING AlONG WiTH wHatEVEF JAde AsAyS

Floyd gets pissed off seeing all of this and goes in for the attack. Everyone panics, but Jamil pulls a Silver book 7 part 9 and basically tells them to let Floyd cook 💀

Dream!Azul of course tries to convince Jade that Floyd is dumb and cute and everything, not some THUG cbjssbkwebodnxsk Jade is convinced that “this” Azul and Jade would use useless without him so he buys dream!Azul’s lies. FLOYD GETS MORE ANGRY THRymRE GONNa BRaWLLLLLLL

Uhhhh so fighting doesn’t wake Jade up. Idia suggests this is because while Jade doesn’t have a particularly strong imagination, he’s good at exploring possible scenarios within himself…? Not sure if I totally understood the wording here (I’ll have to double check with other sources later), all you gotta know if that punching was ineffective. ***Edit: It’s because (according to Idia), Jade has a strong belief in himself.***

OH, WORM??? J WORD AnD FKOYD ArE mAKinG HISSING NoiSES At eaCH OYher As THEY FIGHT (the NPC Azul and Floyd are busy cowering in a corner) 🍿 I believe it was previously said in a voice line or some vignette that when the twins fight, they get VIOLENT and it’s kinda funny we get to see it on-screen now.

Sebek gets the idea to stop both of the twins’ movements with his UM. (Very thoughtfully, he warns everyone, particularly Ortho, to stand back before he casts Living Bolt.) It works very well because salt water conducts electricity better than distilled water!! I think that helps Jade with realizing something’s off because right when dream!Azul and Floyd rush to him, Jade points out that the real ones wouldn’t call him “cute” and such.

WHoa WHOA, sCARY hot

Aaaand we got two eels added to the party! Onward to Azul’s dream~ (jxbsksvxiwnw J WoRD THROWS uP)

We’re underwater again! Jade theorizes it must be because Azul has expanded the Mostro Lounge into a worldwide chain, since Azul has expressed the desire to run a successful restaurant business like his mother.

We hear cheering, it seems to be from a Coral Rush (underwater ball) game. It’s similar to Magical Shift, but instead of brooms you ride on the backs of dolphins. Coral Rush is popular among merfolk!

WhAT

If I was drinking something then I would be spitting it up right now because WhY IS AZUL AN ATHLETE (If I’m understanding this correctly, he’s playing for a Coral Rush team called Golden Trident? And he’s the LEADER) 😂 I guess maybe because he’s been insecure about this weakness of his…?

MAN. Jamil is going to bully his ass later about this, I just KNOW he is… Azul goes all chuuni and shouts “KRAKEN SHOT” before scoring 🪦 Cringefail bbg…

OH MY GOD THIS SHADY BITCH

Jade has “-san” in quotation marks 💀 HE’S BEING TOTALLY SARCASTIC

Fun little detail, it looks like the Octatrio had a group handshake…? Jade and Azul do it here and later Jade and Floyd do the same, ending it each time with a cute little “yaaay” 🥺

dndjsnkweneow Jade asks Azul to sign Idia’s tablet OTL YOU ASSHOLE BE SO FR RIGHT NOW

Azul remembers “Leech-kun” and “Leech-kun” (*shudders*) from elementary school. His team mates call out to him and Azul invites us to their victory celebration at his mother’s restaurant (which finally gets a name!!! It’s called La Grotta). Apparently it would be hard for your average student to get in, but with Azul’s invite we should be okay!

Jade starts brainstorming again and suggests that this dream is what we see because Azul wanted you to erase the sad past in which he was bullied. He says he won’t divulge too many details since it involves Azul’s privacy (aw, the ONE time he decides to not leak info 😂).

Aaaaah Idia says he has a bad feeling about something… which gives ME a bad feeling…

They arrive at La Grotta and Azul casts a spell that makes an anemone crop up on everyone’z head?! Azul says that anemones are the most formal hair accessory one can wear in the sea; it makes them “fit in” more. He leaves Jade and Floyd alone though since they’re already merfolk.

Uhhhh Grim gets distracted with dancing and drags Sebek off with him??? Okay???

The entire time this is going down, the twins are watching silently.

Grim, Sebek, and Ortho dance but they end up falling down. The mob merpeople start to laugh and make fun of land creatures. It’s then we learn that Azul lied about the sea anemone being associated with high status, it’s instead something that indicates stupidity. So… uh… He just wanted to bully us??? This whole dream is playing out like a bitter high school revenge fantasy…

Azul says the twins can stay if they play Coral Rush with him. Surely they’re tired of hanging around dumb land creatures right? It’s better to come along with him.

Floyd makes a mess and passes an antique to Jade, and the two start to “play” with it. (… Nah, they start breaking shit 😬)

LOL???? Is Azul threatening to sue the fins off of the twins??? He’s all like “MY PAPA’S A LAWYER YOU KNOW” at them… (He also calls his mom “mama”; the word choice and behavior really makes me think he’s a mama’s/daddy’s boy.)

Jade says to everyone that we should move onto the next dream. He pretends (?) to leave, which triggers a memory of book 3 where Azul declares that he’s always going to be alone.

HMMMMMMMMMMM, there’s no dream!Floyd or dream!Jade to lure Azul to the darkness, only the mermobs 🤔

Ortho expects the twins to dive after him, but neither of them do 🤡 They say it’s Azul’s choice to dream more deeply, so they’ll allow him to.

Grim drowns in the darkness so we (Yuu, Silver, Jamil, Sebek) go after him. Ortho tries to appeal to the twins by saying if they don’t follow, then they’ll be trapped in the dream forever. Sooo Jade and Floyd depart into the dark. Ortho is left wondering if this coldness is actually how the twins express trust.

LOLLLLLl???????? Azul’s setting the photo of their class trip on fire and laughing like a maniac… (He also has apparently gained Ramshackle AND stolen the UMs of his fellow dorm leaders.) I counted, Azul has no less than like 3-4 Evil Villain Laughs this update 💀 OKAY KING POP OFF LIVE LAUGH LOVE

They split into two groups (the player gets to go with J word 😳), each with the goal of taking out one of the dream!Tweels. Jamil lures dream!Floyd out to the basketball court under the false pretenses of a special club activity (where a strong merman opponent would be present).

Jade meanwhile goes to the botanical garden?? And he starts to smash plant pots… He claims it’s a dream so it’s okay! It’s not like he’s doing this because he wants to (lie). Jade makes (anemoned) Grim take a bunch of rare ingredients he “harvested” to Mostro Lounge.

Azul becomes interested in the ingredients and wants access to the source to maximize profits. Dream!Jade is led off by Grim and Yuu to the woods behind campus. SILBEK JUMP HIM—

Jade uses Shock the Heart to learn where Azul has moved the contracts. They weren’t in his office vault when the group checked earlier; the contracts are now in Azul’s room…? Which… I feel like that was such an obvious place to check, not sure why the thought didn’t occur to them sooner??

They find the contracts but there’s like 500 of them and no efficient way to destroy so many in a short amount of time. Ortho suggests his beam, but it might result in collateral damage to them if he fires it this close. Floyd says they can just trick Azul into destroying the contracts himself but before they can say anything more they hear voices getting closer.

Jade and Floyd return to Azul warning him that someone is after his contracts, so Azul, concerned, asks for the contracts so he can relocate them again. When they don’t, he starts threatening them (even saying that the headmaster is under his thumb too, no one at this school can oppose him).

Azul is baited to cast a spell at them, which Floyd deflects with Bind the Heart. He then summons anemones (Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Kalim, Idia) to help him. Some mob anemones called him “Azul-sama” in dead-sounding voices which. Makes me think maybe he stole Jamil’s Snake Whisper in the dream too??

Together, the twins keep taunting their dorm leader until Azul unleashes King’s Roar. They use Bind the Heart once again to redirect Leona’s UM and dust the contracts ✨ (We also got Floyd’s UM chant!! Roughly: “This is a nice place/it was just getting good, but how about I interrupt it?”)

NxdbsjsbkFAJHQAN OF COURSE THAT’A WHEN AzUL BREAks 😭 and it happens like automatically too… The loss of the contracts really is a sore spot for him.

Here comes the suspicious black gloop again~

Azul starts to sink down BUT THIS TIME YHE TWINS CALL OUT HIS NAME AND GRAB ONTO HIM?????? Jade even specifically tells Azul to “take his hand” and instructs Floyd to help pull. Ayo… the “take my hand” imagery again…

Waaah… Octavinelle trusts each other so much?? When Silver warns them that he doesn’t know what will happen to the twins if they end up in Azul’s abyss, Jade and Floyd wish Azul luck/don’t go to hell AND AZUL’s CASUALLy LIKE “you too” 🤡

Azul finally faces his OB self!! How interesting, he tells his OB that with the weight of all that he stole from others, it’s hard to move. I think he means that metaphorically… like, it’s hard to achieve personal growth if all you do is take and hurt people. “Unlike you, I’ve learned.” He wants to make his dream of making everyone bow down to him a reality on his own. Azul’s not satisfied with this, he wants something of “real value”.

Azul wakes up back in his mom’s restaurant and surrounded by his team members. He asks them to sign a contract which states they will all continue playing hard together. Duh, it’s a trap and actually anemones them. The contract just handed all their powers over to Azul 💀 Bro… How dumb are you, you didn’t even SKIM to check the terms of the contact are what to claimed them to be??

Azul regroups with the others and they inform him of what’s going on. He immediately expresses concern that the Mostro Lounge hasn’t been operating + the ingredients in their fridge might spoil because of Malleus’s magic. Man has his priorities www Thankfully they’re fine since the flow of time has stopped and potential customers are all sleeping. No ingredients or business lost!! Azul still wants Malleus to pay him back for the inconveniences though.

Ortho recommends that Jade and Floyd stay behind, as they both have taken significant damage from fighting. Idia adds that they should lower the number of people dream hopping to minimize the chance of bugs showing up; Jamil volunteers. Azul says it’s a shame because he was looking forward to fighting alongside him; Jamil says that “friends” with Octavinelle’s dorm leader has its uses, so he “looks forward to it.”

… Jamil acknowledging what Azul wants and agreeing to go along with it feels… weird…

Azul joins us and we hasten to the next dream. “Time is money!!” so chop, chop!! Next update… Savanaclaw!!

Overall, I really enjoyed seeing the twins fight, as well as seeing their more animalistic aspects (ie the bioluminescence) come out. The Coral Sea locations were so fun and colorful, it makes me want a hometown event even more!! Merform Azul we kiiiind of already saw with his OB form (and I’d seen lots of edits from fans making their own prior to this) but I thought it was nice to have that confirmation nevertheless.

There were a lot of small moments that made me do a double take (derpy dream!Floyd is one, Azul’s Big Bad scenes were several others). It was cute to see their Club Wear outfits utilized in the dreams too; we saw Basketball Club and Mountain Lovers Club looks make an appearance. I felt like I was watching some kind of variety show while reading.

This update gave me many thoughts, most of them surrounding the Octatrio and their relationship with one another. I’d like to talk more at length about their dream worlds and the roles they played in one another’s headspaces. However, that will get very bulky and I don’t want to add even more to an already bully post. I’ll make that a separate post and put it up later, so please bear with me ^^

[multifandom-pleasures]

Hii i absolutely love how you write all the characters! Could I request sonic, shadow, and knuckles, and how they would react to reader trying to hide a chao they brought home from them? 🩷

A/N: I loved this request so much!! I love the little chaos. I do apologize for how long it took!! 4 am shifts are not for the weak. but I hope this is good enough!!

sonic

you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t help that you brought the little thing home. you were simply enjoying a nice day out while sonic was doing his duty around town, helping people and defeating robotnik’s robots. sat out in the park, under the shade of a nice tree with a book in hand, listening to the sound of chattering and squealing children. and then a little chao wormed itself onto your lap, making itself comfortable.

you thought it was someone’s pet, but as you looked up and waited for a moment, you didn’t see any distressed owners scrambling to retrieve it. you didn’t remove it, you simply scratched it’s little head as you continued reading, enjoying the new company as you wasted a couple of hours there. but then it was time to go home, and when you slid the chao off your lap and moved to stand; it quickly clung onto your leg, it’s eyes dropped sadly and sad little sounds leaving its mouth.

and how could you leave it alone after that? you folded up your blanket and tucked it under your arm before scooping up the chao in your other arm. it quickly snuggled into your neck and let out contented little ‘chao’ sounds, and it only made you melt further. you booked it back home before your rational side could tell you otherwise to keeping it.

that is what has led you to now, with the chao curled in a nest of blankets you put underneath your desk to hide her; a her, you had determined after some time on the internet as you also searched for chao care. it seemed simple enough, and she already seemed to like you, so it would only make it easier on your end. she was very pliant when you had cleaned her and gave her something to nibble on. the only issue was now she was very clingy. which, fair.

but when you had tried to walk off to try and make yourself seem normal for when sonic came home, it let out little distressed noises and scrambled from its spot under your desk to cling to your leg. you tried once more to leave her and it only resulted in the same thing. you tried to soothe her, stroke her little head and it only seemed to make her more fussy.

“ I’ll be back soon, I promise. “ you spoke softly, wrapping your hands around her and lifting her to eye level, “ you’re just.. a sudden thing, that’s all - but I promise, you’re not staying in here forever. now be a good girl, and stay, okay? “ she listened intently, as if processing your words, and reluctantly she shuffled back to her little nest when you set her down. you let out a huff of relief before stepping out of the room.

sonic returned only moments after, where you had yourself seated on your couch. he greeted you with his usual bright grin and a kiss to your head, which you leaned into. you stood to trail after him into the kitchen, as he moved to grab himself a snack.

“ so - what’d you do today, babe? “ he asked as he pulled pulled out of the fridge with an apple in hand, biting into it. you have a small shrug.

“ nothing much.. just went to the park to read for a little while. “ you replied, sounding as nonchalant as you could muster, “ it was nice out and I didn’t want to waste it inside. I actually managed to get far in the book - “ he hummed as he nodded, listening intently. he knew most of the things you did weren’t as daring and exciting as his own; but he always listened.

you rambled away about the current events in your book. you were so focused on explaining the details to him, recounting what you had told him about it before along with the new unfolded events, you didn’t even notice his focus had trailed away from you and to a the little creature scurrying it’s way towards you. a smile tugged at his lips at the sight, his head craning in curiosity at the little chao. you were about to scold him for not paying attention when you felt a grasp at your leg.

“ brought a friend home? “ you jumped and looked down, the chao looking up at you with wide eyes and a pout. clearly, she was displeased for being left along for more than 5 minutes. you couldn’t bother to be upset with her. she had just found a home, of course you should have known she would be clingy!

“ yes. “ you sighed defeatedly, lifting her into your arms and cradling her to your chest, soft sounds coming from her as she made herself comfy, “ she kinda.. joined me while I was reading today. and I tried to leave, but she wouldn’t let me go, and you should’ve seen her face I couldn’t leave her! and she’s been so sweet and cuddly and - “ he cut you off with a laugh, making his way over.

“ hey, hey! calm down, (y/n) I was only teasing. “ he looked down at the chao, taking a closer look at her. with the hand not holding his snack, he gently brushed the backs of has fingers against her head, and she cooed as she leaned into it, “ she is a cutie, isn’t she? “

“ I know I should’ve asked first but I couldn’t leave her behind.. “ sonic gave a small shake of his head.

“ nah, I always expected this sorta thing from you. surprised it didn’t happen sooner! “ he snickered, kissing your cheek, “ I’m not gonna make you take her back or something. we’ll take good care of her. “ his arm snaked around you and tugged you into his side, and you let out a sigh as you leaned into him. you should’ve expected him to be understanding.

“ we’ll be like parents! “ he exclaimed suddenly in revelation, and you elbowed him with a snort, “ c’mon, isn’t that a fun thought? she’s our little baby! “

“ sonic, shut up. “

shadow

you were much too easily persuaded, and one day it would be the death of you. you were having a little shopping day out in town, enjoying the sunlight and a day off of work; drink in hand and sunglasses over your it eyes. and then a quaint little pet shop caught your eye. it stopped you in your tracks and you peered inside to see little domesticated chaos in little pens, walking about and playing with one another. you would have simply cooed and continued on had it not been for the fact one certain one had caught your eye.

a black and red chao, sat on its lonesome in a corner. it had its little arms crossed over it’s chest and a grumpy look on it’s face; and by chaos it reminded you of shadow. you were walking into the shop before you could think twice. you asked if you could carry the chao, and after warning you he wasn’t kind to many; you insisted. they relented.

they scooped up the chao, who immediately squirmed around in an attempt to be released before handing him towards you. you gently soothed him and stroked your hand over his head, and he continued to squirm before slowing down at your movements. he seemed to want to hate it, but was quickly melting before he could convince himself otherwise.

you stayed for a good hour with the little guy, holding him close and murmuring little compliments and praises on how cute he was and how sweet he was being. you were sure he had dozed off but you didn’t want to check. the employees began to convince you to take him home since he seemed to like you, and it was rare for him to ever come across someone he liked. you tried to object, you couldn’t! not so suddenly, and not without shadow knowing!

then you were walking out with your wallet emptier than when you came in and the chao in one arm and a bag of necessities in your other. even when he was sleeping he looked grumpy, and you could cry with how cute he was.

but now you were stuck on how to tell shadow. you hadn’t been living together for too long; and now suddenly you were springing up a pet for you to care for together. what if he made you return him? what if they didn’t get along? you couldn’t bear to part with the chao now that you bonded with him!

you set the bag down by the couch and sat yourself down, holding the chao in your lap. he glared up at you; now that you think about it, it might’ve just been his resting face; and you looked down at him. his little hands were grasping onto your thumbs and you had to bite your lip to keep the grin off your face. both your heads jerked to the door as you heard the doorknob jingling as the lock turned.

you quickly moved to set the chao down on the other side of the couch, hidden out of you. you pressed your finger to your lip in a ‘hush’ motion, whispering to him, “ stay here, okay? don’t move. “ and you attempted to appear nonchalant as you turned on the tv, pretending to be intrigued by whatever was playing. you had barely made it as shadow stepped inside.

he stared at you for a moment as he took in your appearance, and his eyes flitted to the tv. he rose a brow.

“ I thought you didn’t like this show. “ you cursed yourself mentally as it was indeed a show you could care less for. you just shrugged and replied.

“ I’m giving it one more shot. how was work? “ you twisted to look his way, focusing on him now.

“ same as usual. “ he replied as monotone as ever, eyes trailing slowly around the living room, “ how was your day? “

“ more or less the same. I went out window shopping, mostly; bought a drink and a sweet from some new shop. we should go together sometime, I think you’d like it. “ you hummed, distracted by your own recollection of today’s events.

“ and nothing else? “ he responded, his arms crossing over his chest. you blinked as you looked up at him.

“ what do you mean? “ shadow sighed and his eyes drifted to the bag you’d forgotten by the couch, and as you peered over you could see the ‘how to care for a chao’ pamphlet peeking out. you cursed and slumped over, “ listen - it was a sporadic thing. when you see him you’ll understand. “

you shifted to the end of the couch and peeked over, only to see he was gone. you jumped up and looked around. shadow watched as you frantically looked behind the couch and under the coffee table.

“ you’ve already lost him? “ he scoffed, but joined you in looking around the living room. no way he already disappeared like that! you groaned and stood, taking another look around before pausing as shadow had bent down to peek into the cabinets of the your tv stand. there was the little chao, grasping onto shadow’s quills and looking rather proud of himself. you snorted and covered your mouth, gaining your boyfriend’s attention.

“ what? “ he huffed, “ what are you laughing at. “

“ don’t move. “ you laughed as you made your way over, and carefully worked the chao’s hands from his quills in order to not pluck any out of his head. shadow looked over as you held the chao in your hands, an amused smile on your lips and a mischievous one on the chao’s, “ looks like someone snuck up on you! “

he stared down at the chao, and you couldn’t determine his expression; it was slowly making you worried. did the little stunt upset him? oh surely he’d make you send him back now. you instinctively held the chao closer as you waited for his reaction.

he then let out a huff through his nose, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“ not bad. “ he nodded, and with a finger he gently scratched the head of the chao, who leaned into it with a little wiggle, “ don’t try and keep secrets from me next time, (y/n). we both know it’s futile. “ you huffed and smiled, shrugging.

“ I was gonna tell you eventually. “

“ sure. “ he hummed, turning away to make his way to your shared room.

“ but don’t let him do that again. if he manages to sneak up behind me around company, I’ll never hear the end of it. “

knuckles

it truly was an accident. for the past week, you had a chao in your basement. not in a neglectful way, of course! but more so in a ‘at first it was a wild chao who accidentally wormed its way through your basement window and when you gave it a snack to eat it refused to leave’ sort of way. and so now, it was your pet that wasn’t your pet. you went down now and then to feed it and give it water and it would even let you pet it.

it really was warming up to you more than when it first arrived! at first it refused to get near you, but as you continued to give it food and spoke to it from several feet away, it would nudge closer and closer, until it finally allowed you to stroke it’s head, and only for a few minutes. then it would scurry away again.

knuckles certainly didn’t know. he didn’t care much for the basement. the garage was his area, where he would work out and do whatever it is he entertained himself with, and he never questioned how often you would visit the basement. he always gave you your freedom and space in the things you did. sometimes too much.

you had spent the day out getting more things for the chao, having did research and getting an understanding of what they needed. you returned with multiple bags in hand, and after peeking around to see if knuckles was around to see - he wasn’t - you crept over to the basement door and pulled it open. you made your way down almost too excitedly as you called for the chao, cooing to it.

and it quickly stopped as you saw knuckles seated in the middle of the basement, the chao curled in it’s lap and snoozing away. you gaped at the sight and knuckles looked up at you with a grin, waving.

“ (y/n)! “ he cheered, “ you’ve arrived! did you see the little chao? I assumed he was wild, though he is very well fed. and he is very affectionate! “ you set the bags down, slowly making your way over. the chao was woken up by knuckles’ shout, and squirmed out of his lap to make his way to you.

“ oh - he seems to enjoy your presence as well! “ you sat down as you cradled the chao close, stroking his head, “ much more than mine. what do you plan to do with him? “

“ keep him. “ you responded, shifting slightly, “ I um.. already kinda knew he was down here. for a week already. “ you admitted as you averted your eyes.

“ you did not tell me? “

“ I was going to! I just didn’t know how, yknow? and you care a lot about the nature of things so, I didn’t think you would let me keep him - but I really wanted to keep him, and he wanted to stay.. “ you sighed, motioning to the bags you set down with your head, “ I was out buying things for him, to take care of him properly. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. “

knuckles shifted closer to you until he was at your side, and he set his hand on your shoulder.

“ you should not have feared telling me. in fact, I’m very proud of you. “ you looked up and tilted your head.

“ you are? “

“ yes! you are correct, i do care for the way that nature already is, but it seems this chao has chosen you. and you did the proper research to take care of him! you put thought and care into this idea, even if it was unintended in the beginning. I’m proud of you. “ you blushed lightly and smiled, looking down.

“ you’re too sweet, knucks.. “ you mumbled, and leaned into his side, “ thanks.. I don’t know what I’d do without your support. “

“ you are a very intelligent person, (y/n). I have faith in the decisions you make. you always figure it out in the end. “ knuckles rose to his feet to fetch the bags, and began to make his way upstairs.

“ where are you going? “ you called out to him, still holding the chao as you stood at the foot of the steps

“ well, we are not keeping the chao down there! he will be sharing the room with us! come on! “

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | i.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Your hands quake around the bucket of mice as you stand above the terrarium. The bright-skinned creatures inside writhe around, in anticipation of their next meal. You peer inside the metal bucket at the little mice with their cute whiskers and beady eyes. Your heart twinges. They will soon meet their end, courtesy of you. But what else can be done? The snakes need to eat. Because if they were not fed, the colorful reptiles would break through the glass in search of the food they were denied. You used to have nightmares of it as a child. The lab crawling with snakes, their neon scales filling every corner.

Natural order restored as every warm-blooded creature in their vicinity turns into prey. 

You suppress a shudder. While that never happened, you can’t erase the slight chill dancing through your bones whenever you approach the terrarium. 

Other lab assistants have offered to take on the task, noting your discomfort. You’ve turned each of them down. Mother has given you this job ten years ago. A gift, she called it. More of a challenge quite frankly. A way to test your nerves, that she always deemed too delicate. She never expected you to go through with it. “Hippity, hoppity, little one,” she mockingly sang that day as you fidgeted before the ceiling-high glass case filled with snakes to the brim. Their scales were a deep green back then. Nothing like the pink, yellow and blue shades they don today. A plethora of mutations throughout the years has made them what they are now.

You tip the bucket against the edge of the glass case, abandoning the poor rodents to their fates. The reptiles are quick to dive upon them in a heap. The mice’s helpless squeaks reach a peak, piercing your ears until they’re silenced quickly. You watch, stomach tight while the snakes open their maws and swallow the furred animals whole. The spectacle will never sit well with you.

Still, you school your features and steady your heart. Mother’s voice echoes through your head.

Emotions are a weakness. They must be harnessed, contained.

Harnessing your emotions. A feat you could never achieve. One that makes you a failed experiment in Mother’s eyes. A waste of space. A disappointment.

You start climbing down the ladder to gather more mice from their cages. Your insides clutch at the prospect of gently picking them up only to escort them to a sorrowful fate.

The train of your thoughts is interrupted when voices erupt from the other end of the long hall. 

Recognizing them, you freeze. Panic floods your veins. You haste down the ladder, the bucket clattering as you discard it on the floor. 

You scurry inside the nearest office and duck beneath a table.

The voices grow in the lab. You eavesdrop, allowing you to catch snippets of the conversation. They’re discussing Mother’s latest experiments with the Avox subjects. One succumbed to a chromosome translocation with a wolf mutt. The finer details of replacing the subject and what can be learned from the results are discussed in cold, clinical fashion. No regard for what was a human life, now lost, is granted. The Avox was nothing more than a slab of meat meant for slaughter. The slow, barbaric kind.

Ice seeps through your veins. You loathe visiting that room, the one displaying Mother’s human experiments on unfortunate Avoxes. Their beseeching gazes. Their warped pleas parroted by the jabberjays above them. You almost passed out every time you were tasked with monitoring their electrolyte status or switching their intravenous tubes.

Head rising from under the desk, you allow yourself a peek. 

Mother’s here, of course. You recognized her voice right away. Then, there’s…him.

You let your gaze rest on him, never having the chance to observe him like that. Steal a glance from the back of the lecture hall. Get a glimpse of him amidst his crowd of friends, always in his element of course, owning every room he’s in.

Never before did you get to just look at him.

The first thing that strikes you is how beautiful he is. Handsome in that dazzling way the pretty boys in the sappy books smuggled from the Districts your mother berates you for reading are.

She calls them stupid. For you however, they are your only escape from the dismal humdrum of the Capitol. Fictional worlds that shield you from the harshness of reality. Your saving grace.

Platinum locks combed back from his face. Eyes as blue as the sky. Sharp, angular features.

Coriolanus Snow.

Behind the safety of the glass panel, openly admiring him is easier. In fact, you find it almost hard to peel your eyes away.

No wonder half the girls in your cohort can’t stop gushing about him, how there’s an irresistible, slight air of danger hovering around him since his brief time as a peacekeeper. Even Io Jasper noticed it. And Io never notices anything that she can’t wedge between two glass slides and examine under a microscope.

Awe mingles with envy in your chest. This is who your mother chose as her unofficial successor. The worthy, cool-headed apprentice she has yearned for years. She’s been through so many people, each more eager to please and impress than the last. None ever fit. Not even you. Especially not you. Nobody except for him.

No one had ever passed your mother’s crooked tests before Coriolanus Snow came along.

Blue eyes travel upward, the Snow heir seeming to sense the scrutiny upon him.

“Is someone here?” he says, pushing forward.

Your pulse quickens at the sound of Coriolanus Snow’s deep voice, disturbingly close. You crouch to hide from view.

Mother’s exasperated breath reaches you from behind the glass panel.

“Don’t worry. It’s probably my daughter. I’m afraid she’s quite useless,” she says matter-of-factly.

Your heart sinks. Face warm with embarrassment, you shrink beneath the desk. You bring your knees to your chest. Hearing such words shouldn’t affect you. Not after all these years. Yet it does. A pointed reminder that you can never measure up. That you’re a glaring mistake, lucky to even be allowed to wander the halls of the Citadel and be given a semblance of responsibility, however small.

That you’re not enough, will never be enough.

That you should never have been brought into the world.

After getting caught, you file away your embarrassment and make yourself small. Even smaller than usual. It's not too hard. When you aren’t working at the lab, your schedule consists of attending lectures and studying for long hours at the library. It keeps you busy enough to find excuses to skip a few hours at the lab. After all, midterms are only a few weeks away. They require your entire focus. You can’t fail and add more of a shameful stain to Mother’s name.

It’s why you ramped up your studying since the Academy. You were painfully average then, tragically unremarkable, not even ranking high enough to get your own tribute to mentor in the tenth Hunger Games. The shriveling stare she cast upon you the day of the reaping after Dean Highbottom failed to speak your name is burned into your mind forever. That day, you failed Mother again. You swore to yourself to never let it happen again afterwards.

This year, you will study harder, until your eyes fall off if necessary. If you can pass every class with flying colors and perhaps even aim for the valedictorian spot, you can prove Mother that your existence isn’t a complete and utter waste. It might be a lofty goal for you, but you’ve been ranking higher with every test these last few weeks.

For days, your path does not cross Coriolanus Snow’s again. Your peace is maintained. You get to almost forget how piercing his blue eyes were that day, even from behind the glass panel.

Today, you don’t expect things to veer away from your usual routine. You sit in the back of the lecture hall as is your habit. Students pour inside at a sluggish pace while you peruse your notes from the previous class. They barely make sense, even to you. Defense economics has never been your favorite subject, possibly your most hated in fact, and paying attention during Professor Cloudsbane’s class is even more of a challenge. More than once, you dozed off, the complicated concepts struggling to fully sink into your mind.

Keeping up with this class is twice as much work than all the other ones. Even Mother’s bioengineering and military strategy courses do not give you so much grief. Concepts she’s drilled into you since childhood are easier to digest.

Which is why you’re flabbergasted when the results of last week’s test are passed around and you receive yours. In disbelief, you blink at the paper multiple times.

It’s the highest grade you’ve gotten the entire semester. Possibly the highest one in the class. You bask in the private, secret victory. You’re always so behind. You plan on enjoying that tiny moment. You hug the test to your chest, a smile creeping upon your lips.

“So what score did you get?”

Your head whips up, the sudden voice startling you out of your thoughts.

Bright cobalt orbs fill your sight.

You gape in disbelief. Coriolanus Snow.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize he and his group of friends have elected to occupy the seats in the row before yours today. You’re stunned. They’re usually sitting somewhere in the middle of the hall, not quite at the front but close enough so that Clemensia can comfortably harass the professor with a ceaseless string of questions as she’s known to do.

“So?” he asks again. His eyes dart down. “Your grade?”

Your throat knots as you gawk at him. When you don’t reply, he huffs out a laugh and swipes the piece of paper from your hand. You’re too flabbergasted by his actions to even react.

Empty hands hanging before you, you watch him purse his lips as he inspects your paper.

“Hm, top grade. Figured.” His eyes twinkle. “Expected from Dr. Gaul’s daughter, I suppose.”

“You almost had it, Coryo. But she beat you,” Clemensia teases, wiggling her eyebrows. Meanwhile, Ivy Briarose, Clemensia’s close friend, giggles at her comment. 

You steal a glance at his test; he’s holding it next to yours. Surprise surges through you. There’s only half a point between your grade and his. Just half a point…but still. Coriolanus always aces Professor Cloudsbane’s tests. Him getting the top grade is often expected. But this time, the Snow heir falls behind…you. 

You can hardly believe it. A sliver of pride flutters through you. The fruits of your labor are beginning to show.

“If you don’t watch out, she’ll steal the top student spot from you,” Livia chimes in. You can tell the blonde is reveling in this, that strange animosity between her and Coriolanus on full display.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks, his tight-lipped smile unfaltering as he studies you.

“I suppose she could,” he utters softly. Despite his tranquil expression and the smile pulling his lips, a peculiar unease settles in your bones. You shift in your chair, goosebumps blooming across your flesh.

He hands you your test back without a word. You’re relieved when he turns and the class starts. 

Still, even with his back turned, the weight of his sizzling scrutiny doesn’t part from your skin. 

The class proceeds, the words pouring from your professor’s lips a befuddling heap in your ears as usual. You jot everything down, acutely aware you’ll need several hours if not more than that to decipher everything he said. Your mind already throbs at the prospect. 

You sneak a glance at the row in front of you. It’s mostly filled with the top students, most of them mentors that last year at the Academy. Some of them aren’t even taking notes. Only Coriolanus sporadically does. He appears to have no issue keeping up with this class, unlike you who drowned in the first few minutes.

You’re relieved when the lecture reaches its end. Your mind is on the cusp of overflow. You desperately need a break. 

You pick up your things and rush to the exit. In the hallway, some guy bumps into you from behind, sending the books in your arms flying across the floor. He doesn’t say anything to you and you bend to pick up your books. Tears press behind your eyes. This is nothing. It shouldn’t make you blink back tears. It’s not the first time someone’s treated you like you were invisible. 

“Hey, apologize.” 

Your eyes drift skyward. Stumped, you watch Coriolanus grip the boy who bumped into you by his shoulder. 

“What?” the guy replies, confusion scrunching his features. 

“You bumped into her. I said ‘apologize’,” Coriolanus articulates, as if he were addressing a particularly slow child. When the guy tries to leave, rolling his eyes, the blond squeezes him tighter. Tension flickers in the air. They trade looks and doubts creep on the guy’s face, his face blanching. 

He clears his throat and whirls to you.

“Sorry,” he blurts out.

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

He turns, likely hoping to leave again, but Coriolanus tuts him, pointing at your books, still scattered across the floor.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he says, arching his brow.

The guy unleashes a sigh but hunkers down to collect all of your books. He gives them to you in a neat pile as you stare at the spectacle, mouth agape.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

He nods and saunters off, avoiding Coriolanus’ eyes.

Coriolanus grabs your hand, helping you to your feet. The pads of his fingers are rougher than you expect, calluses pressing against your soft skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you rise. 

You’re not sure what to say, your nerves flaring beneath his stare. But you suppose you should thank him. While you struggle standing up for yourself, he just did it for you. So you mumble the words under your breath and begin heading in the opposite direction.

With his long legs, Coriolanus easily keeps up with your hasty strides. Your heart skips a beat as he falls in step with you.

“I feel strange asking this but…” He leans above your shoulder to whisper, “Are you avoiding me?”

“I-I’m not,” you stammer, your pulse racing with the lie.

The blond chuckles.

“You’re walking awfully fast for someone who’s not avoiding me.”

“I’m just running late to my next class.”

“What about your mom’s lab?” he challenges. “You were hiding from me, weren’t you?”

Your lips tighten. If only he’d drop it. You don’t want to revisit that awkward moment. Everything about it makes your stomach ache.

“I…wasn’t,” you lie, your voice barely above a breath. Your face warms as a smile plays upon Coriolanus’ lips. You halt in your tracks, hugging your books against your chest as you pivot to him. You bashfully meet his gaze. “I was just a little spooked.”

He tilts his head, mirth swimming in his cobalt orbs.

“Spooked? By me? Do I scare you, angel?”

The pet name, uttered like a caress, sets your heart aflutter.

“No,” you mutter. Another lie. And it’s like he’s picked up on it, his soft, pink lips stretching even more.

“It wasn’t nice what she said,” he says abruptly.

You blink in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“Dr. Gaul, about you. It wasn’t nice.”

You shrug. “I’m used to it. It’s fine.”

He approaches you. The scent of his pricey cologne engulfs your senses. It’s masculine but the faint scent of roses lingers underneath, as if stubbornly clinging to him.

His voice lowers, his gaze entrapping yours. 

“It’s not fine. You work so hard to make her see you. You’re a good daughter.” You don’t realize his hand’s moved to your face until one of his fingers traces the curve of your cheek. Your heart races at the sudden touch. Coriolanus’ thumb drags down to your chin, his attention landing on your bottom lip. He smiles. “Hard work should be praised, rewarded even.”

Disarmed by his closeness and the strange words rolling off his tongue, you retreat.

You readjust the books between your arms.

“I s-should go. My next class is about to start.”

His words interrupt you.

“Hey, why don’t you have lunch with me and the others today?”

Your stomach clutches. You think about Coriolanus’ usual crowd, a bunch of kids from wealthy, influential families, popular and revered. Clemensia Dovecote. Livia Cardew. Ivy Briarose. Hilarius Heavensbee. Festus Creed. Most of them now hold the admiration of their peers for having survived the chaos the Tenth Hunger Games were.

You’d never fit in with them. In fact, you never did. Coriolanus must know that. Is he trying to punish you for eavesdropping on his conversation with your mother the other day? 

“I-I never talked to any of them,” you answer, panic swelling in your gut.

His brows crumple. “If you don’t talk to anyone, you’ll never make friends.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need friends,” you retaliate.

“It’s always useful, having friends,” he rasps. “The right connections, they can get you far.”

You anxiously roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m not good at…making conversation.”

“We’re having a conversation now,” he says, laughing.

As you mull over what he just said, a small smile tugs your lips.

“I guess we are.”

His gaze sharpens. “That’s a pretty smile. I’d love to see it more often.”

His low, soft voice sends chills through your spine.

Coriolanus’ long lashes droop as he gauges your expression.

“I’d be disappointed if I didn't see your face, angel.”

You fidget, your eyes sinking to the floor before rising to meet his again.

“I don’t know if that’s okay… for me to show up like that.”

“I’m inviting you, so of course it’s okay.”

He speaks like it’s a given, like whatever he says goes. His confidence unsettles you. 

You fall quiet, weighing your options. There’s something in Coriolanus’ silky voice that makes it hard to say no, but you’d hate being the unwanted guest at the popular kids’ table. 

Still, the expectation on his face makes you not want to let him down. 

“I’m not hearing a yes.”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter belatedly. 

A broad smile spreads on his handsome face.

“Perfect. See you at lunch then, angel.”

As he strolls away, your feet remain glued to the floor, your mind lingering in disbelief of what just occurred. 

[bumblesimagines]

Gold and Green

Request: Yes or No

Summary: To further secure the Lannisters to the Green's side, Otto Hightower arranges a marriage between his grandson, Aemond Targaryen, and the Lannister twins younger sister.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, mentions of Targcest/incest, mentions of Luke's death, kinda short i wasn't sure what to do with this guy, fluff?

Took my time getting to this mf

~~~

Aemond hardly knew what to make of marriage life. 

He knew what one was expected to do as a couple: attend formal events, ensure both houses prevailed, and have many, many children to continue the bloodline. But, as he came to learn, he had little idea what to do outside of expectations.

No amount of histories or studying or even reading childish romantic tales told him how to be a husband, and he hardly had anyone to model what a proper and good lord-husband was supposed to look like. His father had hardly cared for his mother and his brother barely paid Helaena any attention outside of awkward, forced interactions. 

Aemond found it infuriating, simply put. He mastered everything he put his mind to. He'd claimed the biggest dragon in the world as a mere boy; lost an eye and replaced it with a sapphire; excelled in swordsmanship and combat; perfected the art of speaking, writing, and understanding High Valryian; studied the histories and listened to the septas dutifully to the point he could recall any tale down to the smallest of details. The perfect heir, if he had to be honest, but hardly anything that'd help him be a good husband. He refused to be like Aegon, refused to allow himself to steep down to his brother's level of indifference toward his sister-wife. 

His dear mother had been little help, merely telling him to 'be a kind and dutiful husband' when he questioned her, but he understood why she herself would have little experience knowing what a husband should look like. His grandsire simply told him to hurry and consummate the marriage once his wife's monthly blood had finished, to court her with gifts and such if he so wished. 

So, he gave his grandsire's advice a try and searched for a necklace befitting for a lioness of the west. 

"Wife," Aemond instinctively called into their shared bedchambers as he stepped inside, his single eye searching the room as the door slid shut behind him until he noticed her sitting on one of the couches. She looked beautiful, clad in the gold and red colors of House Lannister. He'd much prefer her in green but he hardly found it appropriate to push the subject when they barely spoke. Her handmaidens curtsied upon seeing him before resuming their tasks.

"Husband." (Y/N) responded in greeting, her tone somewhat monotone and attention largely focused on her embroidery. He understood why she and Helaena got along so easily, perhaps he should've inquired his sister instead. "How was your day, My Lord?"

"Busy, as always. War is on the horizon, I fear." He tried not to think about Lucerys, or the memory of watching bits and pieces of Arrax descend into the ocean. He'd meant to frighten him, humiliate him as he and his brother had done to him years prior, but he'd forgotten Vhagar wasn't a mere mindless creature nor a weapon he could control. She followed his orders because she wanted to, not because she had to. 

"Wasn't it always?" She asked, though it wasn't a question meant to be answered. A masked statement to avoid offending him. He knew what the courtiers whispered behind his back since his return from Storm's End. Kinslayer. A title spat and whispered with disdain because who would be cruel enough to kill their own blood?

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose and peered over her shoulder when a handmaiden poured steaming water into the tub. She stood up, handing her embroidery off to one dutiful handmaiden and smoothing out her dress with her hands. She stepped around the couch and strode toward her desk, her fingers raising to remove her earrings and set them aside. Her eyes flickered to his reflection in the mirror as he strode toward her, gently setting the silver box on the desk. 

"For you, My Lady." He murmured and took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back and watching her eye the box. (Y/N) opened it and hummed, trailing her finger over the necklace within. Gold, to resemble House Lannister, with a glimmering emerald in the center to resemble House Hightower. The union of their two houses, of their blood. "I hope it is to your liking." 

"It is quite beautiful, Husband. Thank you." She told him, unclipping the necklace around her neck and setting it down. His wife studied the gift, her eyes lingering on it for a moment longer before she turned toward her handmaidens and dismissed them with a wave of her hand. They finished their task swiftly and curtsied deeply before leaving the room. Aemond couldn't help but tilt his head. His wife still needed to prepare for the night. 

"Wife-"

"Help me undress, Husband." (Y/N) told him, striding toward the tub and casting a glance over her shoulder at him. Aemond followed silently and reached forward, carefully undoing the laces of her dress and helping her slide it off her body. His eye jumped away, out of respect and instinct but he forced himself to look back. She was his wife, after all. 

Offering her his hand, he held hers as she stepped into the tub and lowered down into the warm water, a hum of contentment escaping her. Aemond took a seat on the stool by the tug, his long fingers curling around a soapy rag and beginning to gingerly rub it along her shoulders.

Her lips curled upward, her eyes following his movements before they trailed up his arm and to his face. He paused when her hand raised from the edge of the tub, stiffening when she tugged the eyepatch away to reveal the sapphire in place of his missing eye. 

"You needn't wear this around me, Husband." She told him, placing the eyepatch in the palm of his free hand. "I am not a silly little girl like some of the ladies here. I do not frighten easily." 

His own lips curled at that, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He expected such an attitude from a Lannister, although her older brother, Tyland, hardly gave the same impression as her. He shrunk back easily when challenged during meetings and had the attitude of a cub over a lion. "I shall like to introduce you to Vhagar then, Wife." Aemond ran the rag along the underside of her arm, slowly lifting it until he could brush his lips over her knuckles. 

"I'm certain we'll get along." (Y/N) responded, her hand turning over to cup Aemond's chin. He leaned into her touch and savored it, for he hadn't received such a gentle caress since the death of his nephew. His mother had shrunk back from him, whether from fear or disgust of what he'd done. No mother would find the news of her child getting their hands bloody appealing. He had to give her time to adjust. 

Aemond smiled against her skin. "Yes, I believe so as well." He agreed, feeling her palm slide against his jawline and cheek. Her thumb brushed over the scar thoughtfully, not a glimmer of disgust on her face.

She'd make a lovely queen, he noted. They'd make a lovely ruling couple, far better than his older siblings and even his parents. If only he'd allowed Aegon to escape when he had the chance. 

"I believe we ought to consummate the marriage soon, Husband." The light teasing tone in her voice made him grin. 

"Yes, we should. Perhaps... tonight."