#the voice I chose for him is so fucking funny and he's a complete delight 🥺💜

[verothexeno]

I may or may not have created myself and Maelon in Dragon's Dogma 2 and I'm having so much fun 👉👈

He's so witty and funny, I love this game BDASBDASJD

[atsumuahh]

“ SECRET LOVER ” dreamwastaken

characters !

dreamwastaken, wilbur’s twin!reader, technoblade, philza, tommyinnit, wilbur soot, karl, sapnap, georgenotfound, drista, tubbo.

summary !

when reader chooses the dsmp high everything seems to be great, but things gets complicated when her brand new crush turns out to be her oldest brother’s rival. it gets even more complicated when he asks her out.

warnings !

swear words, usage of dream’s real name

notes !

dream as a football team captain rent free in my head... and i’m also sorry that it took me so long to write… its almost 3k words and not proofread!

taglist !

@wilczachannn

it was easy to assume that you had been in your brothers’ shadows. techno, wilbur and tommy were talented, football players with great, great achievements. the only thing you wanted was a big change in your life, so when you graduated from the middle school and it came up to making a big decision on choosing high school, you chose the dsmp high – school located an hour away from your house.

you remember your first day at school. the day started awfully. tommy woke you up with a loud yell at – as you rightly guessed – wilbur, who stole his phone and texted to his crush. it turned out that you had twenty minutes left to get ready and leave for bus and not be late. well... you were late on the bus, but thankfully your dad promised he’ll drop you off at school.

phil couldn’t be more proud of you. for real, he knew how hard it was for you to choose different school from techno, wilbur and tommy (everyone know he’ll go after his brothers). you were miserable through your whole middle school, because no one ever noticed you as your own person, only as wilbur’s twin sister, techno’s younger sibling or the only sister of tommy. it cause you to slowly losing yourself and becoming a female version of your brothers. so when you spoke to him about the idea of the dsmp high, he couldn’t get happier.

fortunately, dad dropped you off fifteen minutes before your first period started. wandering around the new school, looking for people you had classes with. you looked at your phone and accidentally bumped into a tall, dirty blonde guy with painted nails and purple sweater.

“oh no- i’m so sorry!” he spoke kind of afraid he might hurt you. “you alright?” a worried ask left his mouth as he put a hand on your shoulder.

it turned out that his name is karl and you took same classes as him. well in fact the boy seemed to be pretty nice, chill and funny. you two were on your way to the biology class and jokes were in the air. you felt so delightful that you messaged wilbur and techno a small text saying you just made your first friend. as no one responded you hid your phone.

“don’t worry, bestie.” he beamed at you. “i’ll meet you with my other friends, if that’s okay. they’ll love you and you won’t have to worry about making ones!” karl whispered into your ear and you couldn’t hide a soft smile that formed on your face.

as he said, he did. it was your lunch pause so he led you to the cafeteria. the idea of sitting at the table with people you didn’t know was.. terrifying but at the same time, so exiting. you felt like your heart skipped a beat when a guy called dream showed up with his best friends george and sapnp.

he was so handsome that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. looking at him was just so pleasing that you were kinda mad that he was karl’s friend so you couldn’t really sigh over him. surprisingly, he turned out to be a nice guy as well. you expected dream to be a completely jerk and an arsehole, but well you started to feel like you’d fall for him.

well… you were right. you fell for clay so deeply that just being around him was… stressing you out. he always cared about you, through your whole freshman year he was so cute and it was hard not to fall.

sophomore year started in a very… unexpected way. you hadn’t seen your friends in weeks, because you have lived so far away, but it didn’t make your brand new friends group to fall apart. you wouldn’t be so surprised if they organized a meet after classes but… well it was a meet, but only with clay. in a shortcut – he took you on a date.

“i missed you so much, y/n/n” he smiled as he shyly took your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. a small, timid smile formed on your blushed face. “fuck… i like you, i have a huge ass crush on you, okay? i-i just don’t wanna mess up our friendship… so please tell me if you don’t feel same” clay spoke with shaking voice, not giving you a sight.

maybe it was the adrenaline that boosted you up, or your inner self just wanted to do it, but as his confession ended, your lips gentlt pressed his. clay was… well shocked is a good word, clay was shocked, but he pulled you in even closer and that’s how you ended up making out in the park.

you were thrilled to the gills and you almost told your brothers about clay. almost, because you heard techno’s talking about a match against the dsmp high. well it wouldn’t be such a big thing if you hadn’t heard dream, and well oh well. words weren’t too nice.

“hi… are you free?” you said softly, sitting on your bed. you were frightened – what if they don’t like each other? what if… wilbur and tommy also don’t like him? “you know techno, right? technoblade minecraft?” a quiet ask left your mouth as you sat under the tree in your yard.

“yes, unfortunately.” his response made you thought that you had annoyed him. “wait, why you’re asking? did he hurt you or something?” dream didn’t let you answer as he added i’m gon’ kill him under his breathe.

“noo, don’t worry” you clutched your head and sighed. “he’s… my brother, older brother, actually”. silence between you two were clearly killing you, but you couldn’t be one to break it. he had to say something.

“oh my fuck” you heard his shocked voice and chuckled in response. “it doesn’t matter. you’re the one i fell in love with, not he. i know you’re worried, but everything will be alright.”.

“i hope so” his laughter calmed you. “i’ll call you later so we can fall asleep on call okay? dinner’s ready”.

”it’s kinda forbidden love, isn’t it?” george laughed as he wrapped his arm around you with a cute smile. brown haired boy was waiting along with you at your whole friends’ group. “y’know… techno is your brother and also a rival of your boyfriend… it’s exciting”.

you almost gasped at his words. it felt so silly and people would probably find it meaningless, but you couldn’t hide a smile that appeared on your face. he didn’t say techno’s sister like everyone from the middle school would say, george said that he’s your brother.

“as long as i love her, nothing else really matters to me” clay’s voice was so sweet that you almost melted under it. he was right, there’s no reason to overthink – you love him and it’s the only thing that matters.

“yeah, you should definitely tell him that at the match on saturday.” oh my fucking god, a match. the elimination match between the dsmp high and the lmanburg high. you were completely between a rock and a hard place.

“fuck, i forgot about it.” wrapping his arms around your body, dream felt how stressed you began to get. he also felt when your body unwittingly started to shake. “he’ll hate me, so will wilbur and tommy.”

“aren’t they already hating you? like- you barely talk to them at home, so… what’s the problem?” sapnap asked shrugging. well, he was right – techno lost his interest in talking to you and unfortunately wilbur and tommy took their cue from him, and the only person you had talked to was your dad.

“you’re coming to our match, right?” karl asked with a nervous smile forming on his face. it was his first match ever on the team – you couldn’t not be there. “it doesn’t who will you cheer for, just be there, okay?”

“karl, of course i will be there” you smiled at him, trying to hide your increasing stress that almost made you pass out. “please win this, okay? it’d be too hard to look at your miserable faces.”

tommy had always been your favorite of them all. as a child he wouldn’t let you go and sometimes it was obviously burdensome, but you loved it. you loved how he cared and now you missed it. he wanted, but he couldn’t talk to you, techno and wilbur would be pissed if he did.

he wondered about telling you how well he made friends in high school along with tubbo. about all of the funny jokes he made. he just wanted to be a teenager that shares cool memories with his older sister, but for now his brothers were too proud to apologize.

“wil, are you sure we should do that?” he asked, uneasiness appearing on his pale face. he genuinely missed his big sister that always helped him with his homework, with choosing cool outfits to impress girls, helped him, when he argued with tubbo. “she looks so miserable. even dad is worried!”

“we have nothing to do with her miserableness. she left us first. now, she can go and fuck herself” wilbur had never acted lke that before, so surprised tommy just frowned at him and shook his head in hopelessness. something was off and he would like to know what. to repair it.

his stomach rambled and it was time for a snack. tommy was about to came in, but he heard a bit of a conversation between philza and his only daughter.

“yeah, they do kinda hate me” she shrugged, not letting her tears fall. “uhm… clay proposed that i could stay at his. you know, dad. until… they start talking to me again.” long sigh left her mouth as she clutched her head in hands, right before he noticed tears. tommy couldn’t do more, so he got back to his room not letting anyone in later that evening.

it’d be a lie if someone said that tommy wasn’t stressed out. his first game was in a few minutes and his sister was nowhere to be found. “she has better things to do, i disappointed her - i shouldn’t be so shocked.”

when he saw her, he felt relieved. she was there to support him in his first game in high school ever, but as he watched her, slowly drifting away, looking for someone different in the crowd of people, he was hurt.

“i can’t believe you really choose to avoid the affection from dream for today, because your brothers are here. you should fuck them three” sapnap laughed, looking over your shoulder at tommy. “two. he looks hurt as well as you.” you know he was, but he didn’t do anything because the pressure techno and wilbur put on him, was killing him inside.

“y/n you came!” karl cried out, running towards you and sapnap. he hugged you tight and smiled softly, giggling noiselessly. “did y/n’s brothers saw it? i was literally her ride.”

“excuse me, you did that on purpose?” george laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. you joined him, but you stopped when you saw tommy’s upset, frightened face. it wasn’t only karl’s first game – it was tommy’s as well.

“i gotta talk to him” you sighed exhausted of the whole drama around you and your brothers. or just around you, wilbur and techno. your little brother had nothing to do with it. “tommy, hi” you started a bit nervous, feeling the tension betweet you two. and firstly, you thought he will just go away, but you gasped as he hugged you tight.

“i missed you so much” he whispered so anyone could hear but you. soft smile showed up on his face, making it way more brighter. “thanks for coming here, i know it’s rought between you and wil. he’s kinda mad but everything will be fine, i know that.” you wrapped arms around his torso and smiled widely.

“you’ve got this, okay tommy?” you brushed his hair. in response you got a growl and loud laugh after. “if you win or if you lose, it doesn’t matter, because i will still love you, but i’ve gotta go back to my friends.” you beamed and left tommy as soon as you saw wilbur storming towards you.

me: can’t wait to see you on the field :)

you felt like melting, when dream looked at you with his happy, excited face. you were so proud of him – he was the captain of the school football team and it was known that he has a sport scholarship. despite your brothers’ presence, you planned to show clay some support and you painted a medium #21 on your black, denim jacket.

clay: can’t wait to see you on my bed, right next to the trophy i’ll get as a captain.

he hadn’t lie. you sat on his messy bed, in his messy bedroom, talking to his younger sister drista. she was adorably bewitching. she was a bit younger than tommy, but thankfully she wasn’t as loud as him. you laughed after hearing her awful joke.

“so… you’re living here by now?” she asked curiously, frowning. her eyes scanning your, now, blushed face, waiting on the answer. “please, i cannot stand his my-girlfriend-lives-so-far-and-i-can’t-sneak-into-her-room-and-kiss.” she rolled her eyes, but smile widely.

“oh, yeah.” you blushed even harder as she laughed at your already blushed face. “i’m just worried if he’s okay with us hiding, you know? i mean– he could be with someone else, someone… someone better.”

drista didn’t know what to say and you knew she didn’t have to. you were scared – because of your situation that had place in middle school – he will just leave your for someone better, someone prettier, smarter, cuter.

unfortunately for you, clay had heard your every single word. he coughed, letting drista know that she should go. girl smiled at you before leaving you two alone. him, standing in front of you with only his sweatpants on. “y/n” he started as he got closer.

“i- i- can not tell i know how you feel or how you should feel. and-and i genuinely do not care about anyone else but you. i love you, okay dumbass?” he sat as close as possible and beamed softly.

“you won’t replace me?” the whole thing between you and clay was terrifying you so much. is he lying about his feelings? is he really in love with you? or maybe you’re just a bet? you almost shook your head as the thoughts began to overwhelm you.

he wouldn’t do that. and if he would, some of his friends (yours as well) would kill him. you couldn’t be more happier at the moment. your boyfriend had just told you that he loves you for the very first time, you made amazing friends that would kill for you and vice versa, but there was one thing you had to fix. the relationship with techno and wilbur.

“i could never replace you, love”.

“you sure you wanna do it?” clay asked, gently rubbing your thigh with his thumb, sitting in the front seat of his car. you were about to tell your whole family that clay dream is your boyfriend. the guy your older brother claimed to hate. lots of fun, right?

you nodded unsure, getting out of the car. it was your first time seeing your brothers in over a month and – boy, oh boy – you were terrified. did they miss you? did they even notice you were gone? you wished they did. you weren’t even able to ring the doorbell, because tommy opened the door with a huge grin.

“i’ve been waiting for you.” he confessed, closing you in a tight hug. he let you off as soon as he noticed smiled dream standing right behind you. “and who are you, mister?” suspicious question left tommy’s mouth.

“i’m y/n’s boyfriend, clay” dream beamed at tommy as he let you in. shock finding their way onto his face was… quite hilarious. he mumbled something under his breathe, but you couldn’t catch it.

as soon as you got onto the dining room, you saw wilbur, techno and dad setting the table. tommy coughed, couldn’t hide his happiness. his sister is back and he can’t let her go ever again.

“hi…” you started, your voice getting shaky. “i wanted to explain some things and it’d be a pleasure if you would accept my new boyfriend, especially technoblade.” dream took your sweaty with nervousness hand to calm you. he knew it was tough for you, knowing that him and techno are rivals. “this is clay and i know you know him, and you’re not on the good terms, but please just… finally talk to me, because i miss both of you and i’d love to have either my brothers and boyfriend close as possible.” you finished glancing at techno and wilbur.

“y/n, i’m just sad you didn’t want to go to same school with me. you had never told me why, we were inseparable and everything changed within days.” wilbur was first to answer you. his dejected voice made you crying. you missed him, his voice, his advices, his presence around you. “everytime i woke up, you were already running on the bus and we didn’t have a chance to talk.”

“i- you- you’re right. i should’ve told you why did i choose the dsmp high. i did, because i began to lose myself, everyone saw me only as your sister and i started to think that i do not matter anymore. i had to change it and i had to show everyone that i’m not just yours and techno’s sister, but i’m my own persona.” wil stood up and got closer to you. your tears convinced him that you weren’t lying and he felt bad that he didn’t realize it sooner. “i’m so sorry”.

“no- no, i’m also sorry. i’m the one that should apologizing. you were just choosing your own path and i was mad at you, because of that. ‘m sorry y/n/n.” you smiled through tears and hugged him as tight as you only could.

“there’s no much drama between us” techno chuckled quietly, watching you and wilbur cuddling. “i already knew what’s going on between you two at the match. i just took wil’s side.” he shrugged and you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “well, it doesn’t mean i like you” he claimed glaring at your boyfriend. “i can tolerate you as long as you’ll treat y/n the best you can, otherwise i’ll kill you”.

“i agree and so does tommy” your twin added, looking dream dead in the eyes.

“maybe we’ll stop the death threats here and start eating?” your dad proposed with a cheerful smile. his kids were finally getting along again, he couldn’t be more proud or happier than at the moment.

“it went so well” you whispered delighted. you were snuggling with dream on your bed, some time after the dinner ended. phil suggested that he could stay for the night, so they can get to know him better.

tommy was thrilled to the bones about the fact that now, he has a new friend, older than him, and also a captain of the football team, so he could teach him how to play better. wil was… well wil. he made sure that dream didn’t have any wrong intentions and techno just couldn’t care less if you were happy with him. he even suggested that they should bury the hatchet and move on.

“i haven’t said that to anyone yet, but i love you” you said, almost skipping a bit when he held your head and gently kissed you.

“well, you already know that i’m head over heels in love with you. and it won’t ever change” he said and kissed you one more time.

[frumfrumfroo]

Basically, there's this post that i saw that just made me so annoyed because it was basically saying that Ben's trauma wasn't an excuse for him to turn to the dark side because Obi-Wan also experienced lots of trauma and didn't turn to the dark side and it annoyed me so much because like do they realized that the reason why Ben turned to the dark side was because he felt he had no other choice? Sorry to bother you, I wanted to rant to someone and sorry if this doesn't make sense

This is just someone posting the ‘cool motive, still murder’ gif with extra steps. Or Pablo’s delightful ‘Rey was raised by sand and never murdered anyone’ or whatever he said as an absolutely disgusting justification for how Ben’s parents neglecting and abandoning him was totes fine.

Because remember kids, if you are actually traumatised by the trauma inflicted on you, that’s your fault and you deserve no sympathy. Being psychologically damaged is a personal failing. Only perfect victims are worthy of compassion, people who are harmed by abandonment, neglect, war, betrayal, brainwashing, etc. etc. in ways that show are just bad people. Good children understand that their parents are infallible and no authority figure should ever be challenged as long as they’re on the right team.

(It is funny that Obi-wan is the example they go to as supposed perfect paragon considering how much fucked up shit Obi-wan ended up doing. How manipulative and imperious he can be. He never stopped being a Jedi, so I guess none of his mistakes count. I think an absolutely staggering number of people watch the OT without ever realising that Yoda and Obi-wan were wrong. That what they tried to do to Luke by setting him up to kill his father without ever knowing the truth was, in fact, Bad Actually. What they said about it being too late to save Anakin was not true. Their whole approach to the war and abdication of responsibility by going into exile was a moral failure on their part. Luke’s rejection of all this is vindicated, forgiveness and unconditional love are what saved the galaxy, not pragmatism or violence. 

Literally the point of the story is empathy for the villain. And before the prequels, you weren’t even given trauma and manipulation and victimhood as a reason you should empathise. You just should. Because he’s a human being and anyone can be saved.)

People who bring up this ‘argument’ are either completely oblivious to how offensive it is to claim that being unable to emerge from trauma totally unscathed is an unacceptable weakness in your character and taints you forever, or they are unconscious determinists who think you’re born good or born bad and change is impossible. Circumstances are never extenuating, every choice exists in a vacuum and reflects perfectly on your entire being regardless of context. Ironically, these are always the same people who want villains to be punished and talk about how ‘they chose to do [bad thing]’, despite implicitly denying the existence of free will.

The fact that Ben had to be hounded onto the dark side by a colossal team effort over 23 years and was still totally innocent even when he finally went to Snoke after being at last convinced there was no where else for him to go... I mean, obviously that doesn’t matter. He was, like, moody and stuff. Due to the malignant voice in his head and his entire family being afraid of him for reasons they refuse to explain. You can’t expect his parents or uncle to deal with that. He’s got that dangerous Skywalker blood they gave him and carry themselves.

[minart-was-taken]

Sort of continuation of this, but it also does stand on it’s own!

Title: A small problem Characters: Ravio, Wind, Minish and Legend Includes threats of violence “Tags:” First meetings - No-one is sure what they’re doing but that’s ok - Zelda shows up!

Enjoy!

Ravio was speechless, a little scared, but most powerfully: mesmerized. Two kids, clearly younger than him and both with bright blond locks that rivaled the sun, were engaged in combat.

Although fists were flying, neither had landed a single hit. When the older one, who he had dubbed Mr. Sailor, threw a hit, the younger one, Mr. Small, would live up to his nickname and shrink to a very small size.

He’d then unshrink, throw a hit himself, and miss as the other pulled quite the leap to get away.

Ravio was simply waiting for one of them to land a hit, and for the situation to escalate badly, as he was too afraid to intervene.

Another crack followed then, they were starting to give Ravio a headache.

From it appeared a pink haired boy, tallest of the people present. He blinked in surprise, glancing around.

His appearance seemed to distract the coat wearing boy, who ended up getting decked in the face and fell over shouting “SHIT!” very loudly.

“Oh my.” Signed the newest arrival, looking at the situation before him with wide eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I’m glad you are.” Ravio responded, walking over to the seemingly sane one, although staying from stabbing range just in case. “I’ve been trying to get these two to stop fighting for ages!”

“No you haven’t!” Grumbled the kid slowly getting himself back from the ground, while the smaller one stood smugly nearby.

“Do I look like someone who could stop a fist fight with force?” Ravio pointed out. “Neither of you listened to reason, so I simply was waiting for an opening.”

“An opening for what?”

He hadn’t had a proper plan. “Why would I tell that? You might fight again and I don’t want you to know what to expect.” However they did not have to know about that.

“Why were they fighting?” the pink one asked.

“He started it.” Coat boy complained.

“Ah. Uhm.” Ravio scratched the back of his head: “From what I could tell, I was simply talking to Mr. Sailor here, then the small one appeared from the bushes and kicked him in the back of the knee.”

“But why?”

“I’m not quite sure.” Ravio confessed.

The stranger tilted his head, confused, before turning to look at the small smug one. “Could you tell us now?”

The very small one scoffed, but signaled for them to follow.

They were in the yard of a small house, and near the window was a little patch of what looked more like weeds than anything else. The kid pointed at one of the weeds that had been very slightly stood upon.

The pink haired one understood, his fist meeting his palm in understanding. “It’s not nice to trample on other people’s plants, Mr. Sailor.”

Coat boy crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just appeared right there! I would’ve moved if I knew I was standing on a plant.”

“It’s just a big misunderstanding then.” The pink one nodded, kneeling down to be the smallest one’s height. “Next time try to tell him to move before kicking him, okay?”

Mr. Small looked unimpressed, but nodded.

Ravio was just confused as to why anyone would care about such an useless patch of plants. The only valuable thing lost here was a possible alliance between the two small ones.

Kids, oh so dumb. Ravio smiled to himself.

“When you said you appeared-” the Pink one spoke again, standing up and turning to the sailor. “Was it like how I did?”

Mr. Sailor nodded. “Yeah. One moment I was just hammering some nails and suddenly I’m here. Being kicked in the back of my knee. By the smallest bokoblin I’ve ever seen.”

The small one raised a fist, but the pink one grabbed it mid air, and held it still. The small one seemed shocked that someone could- Or more likely- Would try and stop him.

“Oh sorry, I meant rat.” Said the sailor, sticking his tongue out.

“Please stop antagonizing the small child with a sword.” Ravio said in a hushed voice.

The small one was too entranced by having been stopped to care, simply staring at the pink one with wide eyes.

“Huh. What a strange situation.” The pink one continued, ignoring the general chaos. “Well, I suppose if we’re all in it, we should get to know one another. My name is Link. Spelt L-I-N-K”

The smallest one pointed at himself, all the while Mr. Sailor gasped: “Wait- That’s my name too.”

Ravio felt himself tense up a bit, what he had been suspecting was indeed going on, wasn’t it?

The house that looked eerily like the one Link lived in, then there was the clear fact he was in Hyrule, and that there were people who looked eerily like Link but weren’t him…

Oh great goddess of lorule, take him back home please. This is not ideal.

“Hm…” The pink one pondered. “This seems like it’d mean something significant.”

You think? Ravio raised a brow, before shaking off the questioning look to smile politely like a good salesman. “Link isn’t the most common name, so I have to agree.”

He walked closer to the pink one, mostly certain he wouldn’t stab him. With a hand on his back, he continued. “The only Link I know of is the legendary hero of hyrule! It’d be ridiculous for him to be here, though, wouldn’t it?”

“I am he.” Mr. Sailor said.

The tall one blinked at that. “But.. So am I?”

The smallest one dug through his pockets, and pulled out a small note, handing it to Ravio.

Ravio read it out loud to everyone: “Link is the hero of Hyrule, and is allowed to do what he sees fit in order to keep the country safe. Signed, Princess Zelda.”

“...We can’t all be heroes of Hyrule.” Mr. Sailor complained. “And I know for one that I’m not lying, so.”

“There isn’t just one, though.” Ravio spoke up. “Legends speak of a hero in green who appeared centuries ago, perhaps he too had someone before him, and there was someone after.”

“Centuries, though.” Mr. Sailor pointed out, “Do I look a hundred years old to you?”

The smallest one nodded, but Ravio shook his head.

“I’ve heard of stranger things than time travel, in these lands.” Ravio stated.

“I suppose it is a plausible theory.” The pink one pondered, hand on chin. “I know I’m not lying either.”

“And the small one has a letter from the princess.”

“It could be forged.” The sailor pointed out.

Ravio wanted to point out he could tell a forgery from the real thing pretty easily, and had seen enough of Hilda’s writing to know how the royal family conducts it’s deeds. However, that’d make him seem kind of suspicious. “We could go and find out?” Ravio decided to ask instead.

“How?”

“This is clearly the small one’s home, if these are his plants. So this is his Hyrule.” Ravio explained. “Let’s go to the castle, and if the kid is allowed in, it means it’s not forged.”

“I suppose that’s a fair plan.” The pink replied. “And since neither of us are apparently lying, if the letter is real, then- Er, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ravio.” He responded, “The greatest merchant around.”

“Okay- It’s nice to meet you.” The pink one smiled. “Then if all of us are Link like we claim, Ravio’s theory was right.”

“Or some form of it.” Ravio specified.

The pink one nodded. “Very well, little one, could you take us to the castle?”

The smallest one pouted, but began leading the way.

“Holy fuck!” The sailor gasped, looking at the castle once it appeared in the horizon, standing tall yet- A little smaller than Ravio had expected.

The smallest one grinned smugly, walking at a pace more akin to jogging to stay in front of the taller people.

“It’s quite small.” The pink one commented.

“I do agree.” Ravio nodded. “The one I’ve seen is certainly larger.”

“It looks funny.” The pink one smiled, maybe even a little smug.

Ravio took note of it, but did not comment on it.

“So.” The pink one continued. “Your name is Ravio?”

“Like I said, yes.” He nodded. “Are you interested in my wares? I don’t have much on me due to the sudden departure but-”

“Not Link.” He stopped Ravio. “Yet you look a tad like us.”

Ravio blinked, breathing hitched. He missed his hood, but he had been in lorule- He doesn’t need that in Lorule! In Lorule he’s one of a kind!

“I suppose destiny can have a bit of a slip up here and there?” Ravio suggested. Sorry Link, he’d have to steal your identity for a bit here. “I assure you, however, just because I cannot wield a blade does not make me completely useless.”

The pink one simply kept smiling. “Very well, then.”

He hadn’t bought it, had he? Ravio yelled internally, but tried to keep the relaxed facade up.

The castle town was very cute, the sailor looking around with wide eyes, looking like he was taking many internal notes.

What caught Ravio’s eye however, happened a bit later. The smallest showed the letter to a guard by the castle gates, the guard simply sighed, said: “Follow me,” and started walking further into the castle grounds.

“That’s a lot to process.” The pink one spoke again. Ravio had to agree.

They were led to a room to wait- A waiting room, you could say- For the princess to get ready for guests. It matched all the Hyrule castles Ravio had seen, that being one. Stone brick all about, a polished but a little cold interior, with the triforce ever present in all decor.

There were paintings present as well. They seemed to capture the curiosity of all visitors, much to the delight of the smallest one’s ego.

Ravio focused at first on one depicting the princess, she looked similar to the Zelda of the Hyrule he knew, but clearly another person entirely.

He then chose to take a look at the others in their impromptu party, and found the pink one standing under a portrait of  what was likely another hero of courage, this one standing tall with a flowing white cape, and a small red bird on his shoulder.

The sight awakened a memory in Ravio, and he found himself suddenly plunged into a mystery.

There was a mural in his Link’s hyrule castle, one depicting the hero prior to him. Zelda had joked to him and Hilda about how she had read the hero actually had pink hair, but the artists took creative liberties and made it dark blond instead.

This couldn’t be the man who sealed Ganon away, was it? Certainly there had been more than one pink haired Link.

Then again, they seemed to be in a situation which included traveling through space and time. Guess that might as well be a detail.

A guard soon showed up, expressing that the princess was ready.

They headed to the throne room. It was bold, large and voices echoed within it. The large windows made it feel slightly less like a scary space, but it did still make him grow a bit uneasy.

In Front of the aforementioned throne, stood the princess, with a bright but curious smile.

“Link, I didn’t know you had made friends!”

The small one tried to hide in his cape, but was unsuccessful.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Zelda smiled brightly, as the boys bowed. Ravio hadn’t been sure if that was to be expected, but the smallest one did have a blade and seemed to be satisfied with them bowing, so perhaps it was a good choice.

The pink one took charge soon after, explaining the predicament they found themselves in. Or at least, theorized they did.

“Oh my.” Zelda gasped. “The hero’s spirit will reincarnate this much?! That’s quite saddening.”

“Has the legend of the hero not existed for long here?” The pink one asked.

“We only know of one before Link here.” Zelda explained. “The hero who arrived from the skies to seal away the great evil, so that humanity could return to the lands below.” She said, clearly quoting something.

“...I guess the seal didn’t last.” Zelda added sadly.

The small one rushed over to her, and offered his hand to her. She took hold of it, and smiled with thankfulness in her eyes at the kid.

“Well, if any of you are like Link here, Hyrule is in good hands.” She smiled again. “I wish I could help more though. I’m not sure at all what could be going on, or what to do about it.”

“Do you have time travel items, or something? Getting home would be nice.” The sailor asked.

“I can ask for research on the topic to be conducted.” Zelda nodded. “Until then, you may stay at the castle, if you’d like.”

“Thank you very much, your highness.” The pink- Okay, he needed a nickname, Ravio decided. Whether he was the legendary hero or not, calling him Mr. Legend should help butter the guy up for possible sales, anyway.

With that, they were led to a guest room. Ravio was both deeply glad they hadn’t been paired up, as every pairing seemed like a bad idea, but was also absolutely terrified of sharing a room with three swordsmen he barely knew. They were also given instructions on how to get to both the castle library and the town’s library. Information which Ravio decided to make use of the next day.

It was fine really, and the beds were very comfortable! It seemed the spirit of the hero made them all sleepy as hell, as well. So getting stabbed seemed unlikely. However one thing still kept Ravio up that night.

“Bunnies, dark hair…” Mr. Legend had signed to him, when it was just the two of them, the sun having started to settle for the night “It reminds me of a place.”

“Oh, heh. A place, huh?” Ravio chuckled nervously. He didn’t like being put on the spot without a plan.

“It was a dreadful place.” Mr. Legend stated. “I hope you’re not related to it in some way.”

“I sure hope so too?” Ravio stumbled to find the words:“It sounds much worse than Hyrule. Love this place, the grass is very green. Smells great.”

“I hope so too.” Mr. Legend smiled, a strange dead look in his eyes. “I don’t want to take another life.”

Then he just started talking about how he liked apples.

So, it would’ve been stranger if Ravio wasn’t having trouble sleeping!

Oh, goddesses above, help him.

[voiceless-terror]

Going Back (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Thirty: Wound Reveal

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood

Summary:

“I can’t even feel it anymore, really. She just liked to see what colors she could make me turn.”

Martin could’ve thrown up.

Jon returns from the Circus through Helen’s hallways. Martin and Tim see the aftermath.

The room wouldn’t stop spinning.

He kept it together just long enough to get Melanie out of Elias’s office. Jonathan Sims, Human Shield. Who would’ve thought it?

But now, stumbling down to the Archives, he wasn’t so sure. Everything was scrambled, neither here nor there. His arm throbbed and the hallway tilted, or perhaps he tilted. Wouldn’t that be funny? Just walking sideways down the hall while everyone stared. Don’t mind me! He let out an involuntary giggle- did it echo? Like Helen’s voice echoed? Like poor Michael’s? No, not ‘poor Michael.’ He tried to kill you!

Right, right. 

He was getting some looks. Jon was starting to get used to this whole ‘pariah’ business. He was never the most social person, but people would still greet him in the hallways. Now, though. Now they just stared and whispered. It’s not their fault, of course. He knows he doesn’t look good. Jon hadn’t seen a mirror in a good long while, but he certainly wasn’t feeling good, The Circus had done a number on him and it’s not like he had time to make himself presentable before going back to the office. The Distortion wouldn’t have allowed them to make pit stops. Be funny if it did, though.

He laughed again, stumbling into a wall. A woman looked as if she wanted to help, reaching out an arm that was slapped away by her companion. “Leave him,” the man whispered. He was right to. Jon was starting to think this whole avatar business was contagious. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered back in an attempt to be reassuring. It probably would have come off better if his voice didn’t have the consistency of sandpaper. “I’ll be gone soon enough!” He smiled and they scurried off, looking horrified. Huh.

He didn’t know what he meant by ‘gone.’ Out of their hair, back in the Archives, dead in a hole somewhere. It was all the same to him. 

There was a song playing in his mind, an incessant, repetitive tune that should be cheerful but it was not. He hummed along with it.

Ten minutes or two days later, he stumbled through the door to the Archives, tripping down the stairs at a rate more like falling. No one was there to greet him, perhaps it was lunch time? Jon was very hungry. But that wasn’t a good indicator of time- Jon was always hungry now. For answers, for food, for someone to look at him without anger. Hungry hungry hungry.

Someone must have left a thing or two in the break room. Martin always had snacks lying about. Maybe he could have one of Tim’s protein bars? Melanie’s Gatorades? So many choices it almost made him weep. 

Elias was always saying he chose this. He’s starting to agree. He always wanted more- more answers, more information. The choice was always easy then- go wherever the knowledge takes you. So why was this one so goddamn hard? Just pick some food, any fucking food you’re so hungry-

It would be nice if someone picked for him. He hadn’t had to choose his own food for a while, but now the options were just overwhelming. Just let him have one more thing out of his control. He wasn’t ready to go back to normal, not just yet.

But they had to move forward, he knew that. Jon wanted answers and so did the rest of them. They never liked the answers he gave them. Is that Jon’s fault, really? Maybe. Everyone else seemed to think so. Elias didn’t tell them he’d been kidnapped, but he’d been gone all the same. It’s sad isn’t it, when you become a person no one will miss? Jon missed them. Jon missed everything that was real, flesh and blood and warm. Jon was selfish that way.

But now he had an answer. Something good that came out of all of this, a lead. Tim would be happy. He might even thank him.

The world tilted and Jon tilted with it.

________

“Hang on-is that Jon?”

Martin peered into the break room on his return from lunch; he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here. But there was a small figure there in the dark, swaying on their feet. He rushed over and flicked on the light switch- it was Jon! His excitement was dampened, however, when he got a good look at the man.

Jon looked bad. Martin didn’t think he could possibly look worse than he did after Daisy brought him back but no, this was definitely worse. At least then he’d been angry, rushing around and demanding answers from Elias. Now though, he was just...swaying, his eyes distant and cloudy, not even noticing the other occupant in the room. His hair was tangled and long, his face was gaunt. He was drowning in his clothes- clothes that were dirty and blood stained and torn as if he spent the last month living in the woods. “Jon?” he asked hesitantly, inching forward in the room like he was approaching a spooked animal. “Jon, are you alright?”

No answer. Jon was humming, a strange, childish tune like something from a music box or an ice cream truck. Tim was silent and still behind him; Martin wasn’t surprised he was unwilling to help. It was a horrifying picture, after all, and he and Jon weren’t on the best of terms. Martin managed to get close enough to venture a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

This seemingly broke him out of his fog and stopped that god-awful hum. His eyes cleared as he turned to Martin and smiled- Martin had always wanted Jon to smile at him but not like this, never like this. Happy and dreamy yet somehow manic. “Oh!” he croaked; he sounded as if his voice hadn’t been used in days. “M-Martin, you’re here!”

“Yes, I am,” he explained slowly, trying to match his smile if only to put him at ease. “Are- are you alright, Jon? We haven’t seen you for a while, and you look- well, not great.” That was an understatement. There was a strange, glowing sheen on his otherwise unhealthy frame, like a doll that’d been covered in greasepaint. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“Yes!” Jon said excitedly, grabbing at his arm with thin, spindly fingers. There was a desperate strength behind it. “Now that you’re here. Where’s Tim? I have to- I need to find Tim!”

That was not a good idea. “Erm, are you sure?” he hedged, trying to usher him into a seat but Jon was having none of it and pulling at his arm insistently. “Jon, I really think you should get to a doctor, I mean look at you-”

“Tim!” Jon called in that croaking, animated voice. The man in question looked irritated at first, and then clearly disturbed by the man in front of him. “Tim, I have news.”

Tim backed up as Jon approached and leaned forward on his desk as if imparting a secret. ‘I know where it’s going to be. The Unknowing.” Martin watched as Tim’s eyes lit up unwillingly and he grabbed at Jon, pushing him into his own desk chair. Easy, Martin wanted to chide, though he knew Tim wouldn’t heed it. He had a one-track mind when it came to dealing with the Circus.

“Where?” Tim asked urgently, his hands on Jon’s shoulders as if ready to shake him lest he gave the wrong answer. Martin noticed the way Jon leaned into the touch, threatening as it was. “Where?”

“A wax museum!” The words were...delighted. Jon was smiling like a child giving a teacher the correct answer and that strange, clouded look was coming back into his eyes. “I don’t know which one, though. They didn’t tell me that.” Who?

“Who?” Tim echoed his thoughts and pushed Jon up straight as he listed to the side. “Was this- was this one of your powers? How long have you known?”

“No, not this time,” Jon patiently explained. “I was there. I’ve known for- hm, Elias said - about a month!” What? Tim’s eyes narrowed and his hands gripped harder. Jon didn’t seem to notice. “I would’ve told you, but I was all tied up!” He reached his hands up imploringly, sleeves slipping down his arms to reveal wrists rubbed raw, clearly infected. Martin gasped and even Tim let up, looking nauseated. 

“Jon,” Martin kneeled by the chair, trying to meet his eyes. “Jon, what happened? Who did this to you?”

Without Tim’s help, Jon fell to the side of the chair, only supported by it’s arm. His shirt, worryingly baggy, slipped off his shoulder to reveal deeply bruised skin, blooming a purple and green that seemed to extend beyond what they could see. Jon must have noticed their horrified stares, for he rushed to reassure them. 

“I can’t even feel it anymore, really. She just liked to see what colors she could make me turn.”

Martin could’ve thrown up.

“Who’s she?” Tim stuttered out, horror rooting him in place though his hands twitched in what look liked an urge to help.

“The clown. Nikola. Needed- needed my skin for the dance. She couldn’t cut me up yet. I was almost-” Jon was no longer there with them, not anymore. “I was almost ready.” He pitched forward, eyes rolling back in his head and Martin rushed to grab him but Tim got there first, sweeping an arm under his chest and pulling him back up on the chair. There was a feral, unhinged look in the man’s eyes- anger, fear, and something he couldn’t name making his arms shake even as they kept Jon in a tight grip. 

“Should- should we get him to the hospital? This is bad, Tim.”

“No!” Jon shot up in the seat, arms flailing in a sudden panic. “No more- no more strange hands! I don’t w-want them touching me, please Martin, I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Shh,” it was Tim who hushed him, leaning Jon into his side and taking most of his weight. He was completely attentive now in an entirely different way- Martin would say it was protective if he didn’t know the man’s real feelings. “We won’t. How about we take you to the cot, have a rest, yeah?”

“Tim…” Shouldn’t they be doing more? A nap wouldn’t cure him- he needed real medical attention.

“Just for now,” he said and his tone didn’t leave room for any arguments. “He doesn’t want it. Not right now.” Martin wondered what made him suddenly attuned to Jon’s needs- as if a switch had been flipped at the mention of a clown. He followed behind like a lost puppy, watching as Tim took a still-murmuring Jon into Document Storage.

“Their hands, Tim. I don’t- too much touching-”

“I’ll let go of you as soon as you’re settled,” Tim promised, laying him down with the utmost care as Martin watched from the doorway. “I’m sorry-”

But Jon’s arm shot out and grabbed at Tim’s as he tried to walk away. “Not- not yours. I-I didn’t mean yours.”

And to Martin’s surprise Tim sat down, leaning back against the cot and entwining his hand with Jon’s. His eyes held that same far-away look as Jon’s, as if he were trapped in a memory and seeing something else entirely. Martin suddenly feels like he’s intruding.

He shuts the door and lets them be.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285688

[warriorswand]

A drabble in the explanation of what happened when Lily Evans was there for Remus Lupin while no one else was (alternatively, a Very Important marauders PSA)

When Remus Lupin looks down into the achingly familar face of Harry Potter and tells him of the time Lily Evans had been there for him when no one else was, he doesn’t remember the third month of his first year at Hogwarts, when his heart had threatened to beat out of his chest the moment he realized he couldn’t lie to his (first ever) friends about what they had so correctly guessed regarding his monthly absences and injuries. Nor does he remember the snowy January of his fourth year when he had shakily, nervously, anxiously, drunkenly confessed that while he certainly liked girls quite a lot (Mary Macdonald had given him his first snog 3 months prior after all), he also definitely liked boys just as much (one boy in particular if he was honest — he wasn’t, not yet anyways).

The other marauders, his idiot marauders, bloody ADORED Remus John Lupin (he never understood why) and didn't give a DAMN about his condition or who he wanted to date. James-do-you-want-to-kiss-me-as-practice-for-blokes-moony-no-it-isn’t-going-to-be-weird-I’m-delightful-at-snogging-I’m-trying-to-hELP-Potter, Sirius-fuck-fuck-FUCK-he’s-beautiful-he’s-everything-shut-UP-prongs-I-love-him-I-love him-will-he-ever-love-me-Black, and Peter-no-don’t-practice-with-James-I-need-practice-snogging-too-we-could-learn-with-each-other-and-STOP-LAUGHING-PRONGS-Pettigrew spent a month with mandrake leaves pressed to the roof of their mouths so that their best friend, their Moony, wouldn’t have to face his greatest horror alone ever again. These boys, these brilliant wizards, these masters of the map, figured out his “furry little problem”, his deepest secrets, the things he always believed he had to hate, had to deny, and they DIDN’T CARE, they didn’t blink, they didn’t flinch.

(James Potter was the first person to ever know, to ever hear werewolf, and step forward and seize him in a hug without fear, without hesitation, and Remus Lupin never, EVER, forgot and sometimes, years later, when he is alone and the moon has made his bones ache he remembers and he closes his eyes and tries to hold himself as tightly as James Potter’s uncompromising friendship had. It isn’t the same, nothing is the same, and oh how he mourns his lost boys)

However. They’re young, so achingly young, and so often drunk on the invulnerability and impermanence of youth. And in that drunkenness, there was that one time. That horrible time. That one, horrible time in fifth year. When Sirius, his Sirius, who had always understood, who couldn’t have done this to him, not Sirius no, does the unthinkable.

Sirius Black loses his temper (he’s always had such a temper, he says it’s the curse of his surname; Remus knows it’s the pain of his parents hatred) and in his anger and rage and while he’s looking to make someone else hurt more than he is, he plays a prank. Just a prank. Just a prank without thinking for even a moment that sometimes, sometimes Sirius Black’s actions can have consequences he doesn’t expect, and “it’s just fucking Snivellus what do you care Prongs? Prongs? OY WHERE ARE YOU GOING? JAMES?” and Remus’s body is tearing itself apart at the moon’s command, he’s no longer himself, and then suddenly there’s a boy (a horrible, oily boy) and then another (a horribly familar one) and the last thing Remus Lupin is aware of is trying to hurt them, kill them, take them both, and the voice of a friend rising above his own snarls, “it’s not your fault! don’t blame yourself, this isn’t your fault Remus!”. When Remus wakes, his secret is no longer his secret and Snape knows, Snape knows, bloody fucking SNAPE KNOWS. And he’s FURIOUS. He’s livid, he’s broken, he can’t breath and the world is ending and “how could you! HOW COULD YOU?! how could you do this to ME?” Sirius, his Sirius, the boy he was almost sure felt the same way he did, one of his best friends, the one he trusted with the most fragile pieces of his heart, used an affliction Remus hated and loathed and suffered endlessly from in a callous attempt to best a schoolboy rival with no regard, no thought, for how it would hurt him, Remus, most of all.

(Sirius Black never did learn to think before he jumped, and when he dies, high on exhilaration, drunk on the act of actually doing something, he briefly remembers the reckless joy of his youth, because, just for a moment, he is laughing with James beside him, throwing curses and exchanging one-liners — but wait. No. No, no. Not James. Sirius isn’t with James. Harry, he’s with Harry. Until suddenly he isn’t. And Remus Lupin doesn’t scream when Sirius disappears behind the veil, as he holds James’s son back from the same fate. He doesn’t scream. His remembers. A thousand fragments of a million memories. Little flashes slipping, slipping, slipping away just like Sirius through the veil. A handsome face. A barking laugh. Lingering glances in the Great Hall. Months of steadfast and earnest apology and “I don’t expect for you to ever be able to forgive me, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, but I’ll still be here. Always. I solemnly swear.” A cocky, confident, black-haired man who always somehow seemed eternal. The second one to leave Remus Lupin’s life forever.)

And Remus is SHATTERED and he can’t even LOOK at Sirius, but, then, almost as painful, in a very different way, is James. James, who hasn’t met Sirius’s eyes since he bolted from him to save two lives, James who considers it the height of dishonor to betray ones friends, James who hollered for Remus not to blame himself even as he took the brunt of Remus’s claws when he attacked, will not leave Sirius as Remus has. James wouldn’t abandon Sirius (even though “it’s JUSTIFIED, he deserves IT” but even as Remus screams it he already knows that James agrees and still won’t walk away). Because for James, Sirius is his closest mate, his family, his brother in every sense of the word, and “Moony, please, Moony I know but he needs me, he needs me just as bad.” But Remus, Remus is so hurt, so lost, so fucking alone he couldn’t understand and could only see a second betrayal, this time by his first real friend, “how could you choose him? after this? instead of me?” and James begged “I’m not choosing him Moony please, please, he knows how wrong he was, I’m trying to fix it —“ “It isn’t yours to fix James! You don’t understand, you can’t understand, I was a fool to think you ever could” “Moony, I do, I do understand—” “NO, no, you DON’T or you WOULDN’T—“ “he needs us more than ever —“ “I needed you more than ever and I won’t make that mistake again!” “Moony, no, please, MOONY! OY! Please come back, Moony, PLEASE!” But Remus couldn’t come back, he couldn’t forgive, not this, this betrayal went too deep and it’s consequences were far too harmful.

(And really, it isn’t until James Potter is long dead and Remus Lupin is watching Harry Potter choose to spare the life of the man who ripped James away from them all that he truly understands the particular brand of loyalty James Potter had shown Sirius Black during those awful dark days)

Remus walked away from them, walked away from them all, not even attempting to convince Peter to join him. Peter, who was chalkwhite and pale and shaking from this fight, this fight that was destroying them, his favorite people torn apart, his preferred family splitting at the seams, was being eaten alive with guilt, guilt over Remus’s pain, guilt over thinking it had been rather funny when Sirius had told him exactly a half-hour before he’d told James, and guilt over his relief at being largely ignored in this moment. See, even if Remus had asked him to go, Peter would have stayed with James and Sirius. He wasn’t really expected to say anything in this fight to end all fights, and that was just fine by him, Peter was too afraid of Remus's anger (because of all of them he was the sweetest but he was also the most fearful, and he had never fully mastered James and Sirius’s ability to completely forget Remus’s affliction) and he was not at all willing to risk ending up alone if he chose wrong. So, Peter stuck with James. He stuck with James and tried to help alleviate his most favorite friend of the weight and responsibility of trying to reconnect them. And, with that, for the first time since boarding the Hogwarts Express in first year, Remus Lupin is alone. Refusing to reconcile with his best friends, burning with betrayal, and carrying a cracking, aching heart in his chest, he has no one at all.

(Peter loved Remus, he really did, he loved them all, honest, but he loved James most and he suspected the others knew, and hell, he was sure Pads and Moony loved James most too because why wouldn’t they? Who wouldn’t choose James? James with his easy smile and effortless popularity and hazel eyes that crinkled just so when he threw his head back and laughed. James who could make anyone feel special, who made Peter feel special when no one else ever had. Peter didn’t choose Sirius over Remus, no, he chose James. And Peter Pettigrew chooses James Potter only once more in his life — when he takes his artificial silver hand away from James’s son’s neck and turns it on his own because Harry Potter, oh Harry Potter, looks so much like the boy he loved most all those years ago)

It was just days after the incident and just hours after that last horrible fight with the others, when, with his head heavy in his hands on a bench in the shadowy corner of the courtyard, still sore from the moon, he felt a small, warm hand drop onto his shoulder and lifted his eyes to see flaming red hair and soft green eyes and that kind smile that was so quintessentially Lily Evans. And as his eyes fill with tears, she sits next to him, and, merlin he is so much taller than she is, but she pulls his head down onto her shoulder so he can feel small and protected and safe from the brutal cruelty of Sirius’s mistake. And she doesn't ask questions (but she knows all about Remus's condition, she figured it out ages ago, those marauders really were horrid liars for lads who considered themselves so bloody stealthy) and she had overheard whispers between James, Sirius, and Peter when she certainly had NOT been watching James Potter mussing up his stupid black hair.

(And she certainly hadn’t been worried over what had caused the deep bags under his normally brilliant hazel eyes, she’d never seen him so deflated, so serious, so grown-up, and where was the boy she’d always been sort-of mates with, the one who taught her to play gobstones back in second year, who was so cocky and unshakable, who could even make McGonagall crack a smile in the midst of reprimanding him, and she didn’t like this desperately sad James Potter, she missed awful jokes and horrible pick-up lines more than she ever could have imagined she would and DAMN was James Potter under her skin)

Even though she didn't know the details of what happened, she knew something had. She knew that it had to have been Something Terrible in order to come between those four and when Remus's breath was finally evening out, his shoulders ceasing to shake, he began talking. And talking and talking. Once he started, he didn't stop, didn't even realize that when he mentioned his "furry little problem" Lily Evans didn’t so much as flinch. He unleashed everything, all his pain and heartache and bitter rage, onto his fellow prefect. A girl he’d been mates with for years, who he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of, because if anyone could maybe understand what it was like to be fucking terrified of a blood-deep label it would be her, “a half-breed werewolf and a dirty mudblood what a pair we make, aye Remus?” And it was Lily who accepted his anger at the others, who didn't push him to get over it or talk to them again. It was Lily who late one night, unbeknownst to Remus, cornered Sirius in the common room and, without judgement or anger, helped him too, helped him push his shame aside and “Sirius you need to go to him — no listen — prove to him you regret it and show him you’re sorry, he doesn’t hate you, not really.”

So, it was weeks and weeks later, after a teary reunion and four repaired relationships, that Remus had just managed to stop laughing at Lily’s spirited re-enactment of James drunkenly getting his head stuck in the bannister railing at the last Gryffindor house party. And, just as the Fat Lady’s portrait comes into view with the completion of their rounds for the night, he glances down at the flushed, grinning face of Lily Evans and (feeling oddly sentimental, unusually emotional, and unendingly grateful) softly murmurs to her that he had always wanted a sister yet he hadn’t realized that she would have red hair and a massive crush on his best mate. Even as she shrieked and laughed in (quite forced) outrage, aiming a kick at his shins, she also reached out and squeezed his hand quite tightly, not dropping it as they strolled into the common room to greet their friends. Lily Evans was there for Remus Lupin at a time when no one else was, at a time when he was far too fragile for anyone else to be, because no one can care for you better than a sister.

(Lily Evans knew how to be a sister even after hers decided to hate her but never imagined that she could find a brother in the form of Remus Lupin, a brother who would love and accept her the way her sister never could. And when James and Lily Potter died, Remus Lupin mourned both his truest friend and only sibling. Years later, back on the Hogwarts Express, he hands chocolate to a shaken and embarrassed thirteen-year-old boy with James’s face and Lily’s eyes and wonders if Harry Potter would ever know that he hadn’t always been Professor Lupin, he had first been Uncle Moony)

[melon-wing]

Let’s get down to Business (Scar/Grian/Cub)

This was a bit rushed because I had the idea to do this too late, but I’m still happy with it.

This is a gift for my dear friend @princepigeon Happy Birthday! Stay amazing! I heard you were craving for some Grivex so here you go!

~

Grian stood inside the Concorp Club and looked around a little hesitant. Sure, he had been officially invited and Mumbo and Iskall had both urged him to go to maybe find out some secrets, but it still felt weird, like he didn't belong here. He didn't even know why they had explicitly stated that they'd only talk to him in matter of business. Sure, he was the CEO of the company, but it was no secret, that he really wasn't really that knowledgeable in the way Sahara worked. And he'd need his partners okay before proposing any deals. All he was good for was doing advertising campaigns and causing chaos.

"Grian! So nice to meet you!"Grian turned around and froze. Scare was walking up to him, wearing swimming trunks, a coat loosely draped over his shoulders. He was looking over the rim of his sunglasses and smiling warmly. Grian couldn't help himself but let his gaze travel over the sun-kissed skin, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks.  Oh yeah and that was the other thing, that let him have no confidence in holding this meeting instead of Mumbo or Iskall. His dumb ass had managed not to fall for one, but two of their competitors at the same time. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything if all he could think about was kissing Scar or Cub or both? And why the hell was Scar dressed like that? That made it even less possible to concentrate. He suddenly felt way too overdressed in his suit.

"Scar?", he squeaked out, his voice unnaturally high. He cleared his throat before continuing to speak. "I thought you wanted to have a meeting with me. This doesn't look like business attire."

Scar stopped walking and looked at him in confusion. "Meeting? Business? What are you talking about?"

Oh god. Had Mumbo and Iskall been playing a joke on him? Maybe he hadn't been invited over here after all and was trespassing. But why would Scar have been so happy to see him if that were the case? He hadn’t just looked happy but completely delighted. What was going on here?

"The letter you guys sent to Sahara. You guys had important stuff to talk about concerning our relationship and wanted me to come over so we could talk about it. It sounded so formal, I thought it was something important. Please tell me it was really you who sent the letter."

Scar looked annoyed now, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "No it wasn't me."

Grian felt his heart sink, but before he could turn around to leave, forgetting this ever happened, Scar continued speaking. "Why did I let him talk me into letting him write that? Why didn't I read it again?", Scar muttered disgruntled and then raised his voice. "Cub, honey?! Get your ass out here, now! Dinner will have to wait!"

There was clanging of pans and a few seconds later, Cub stepped out, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he was wearing an apron, obviously coming straight out of the kitchen. Oh god, Grian must have interrupted their date time by the looks of it.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I guess", Grian said hurriedly. He had no clue what was going on at the moment. He only knew that he had done something really wrong. "I shouldn't have come here. I should have checked in with you first! I didn't want to bother you and-"

Scar held up a hand in his direction, making him shut up at once with just one look. "We are not done here. I'll get to you once I'm done with my stupid ass husband." With that Scar had already turned back to Cub, folding his arms in front of his body, tapping his foot onto the floor impatiently. "Care to explain why Grian is here, thinking we are about to have a business meeting? What the hell did you do? The instructions I gave to you were pretty clear. How could you mess this up?"

Cub looked from Scar to Grian and back again, realisation dawning on his face and he looked at Scar almost sheepishly. "I think, I might have phrased our request a little too formally."

"You think? Look at him!" Scar gestured in Grian's direction, sounding absolutely pissed at his husband. But the gesture made Grian look down at himself. He had felt pretty good about the way he had dressed up until now. He had been so ready to show them his serious business side and make Mumbo and Iskall proud of him. He might have also hoped that those two would appreciate the way he looked – maybe even call him good looking. But it had just been a stupid fantasy after all and reality was catching up to him now. "This is an absolute disaster, Cub! It is the worst way this could have gone! You ruined the evening!"

Grian let his gaze fall to the floor and sighed. This was dumb. He clearly wasn't welcome here. Why did he even stay? Would Scar yell at him as well for misunderstanding what Cub wrote? What else had that letter even been for if it wasn't about them having a business meeting?

"You are overreacting, honey." Cub's voice was calm, but Grian could hear the strain in it. "It's not the end of the world. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Something like that shouldn't have happened! He shouldn't be here thinking we are having some dumb business meeting! If I had known it would end like that, I would have written the letter."

Grian took a step back, feeling so small under the weight of Scar's words. He had been right all along. He shouldn't have come here. Mumbo and Iskall would have probably handled this better. They would know what to say in a situation like this and still turn it into something profitable. Grian didn't know what to do or say. He had been looking forward to this and now? With every other hermit he probably would have made he joke, but he seemed to be unable to find any funny words right now.

"Oh yeah?" Cub raised his voice a little now too. It was like Grian didn't exist anymore. Maybe Scar wouldn't notice if he left. But then again if he tried, he might direct his anger at Grian. "And what would you have written? Something really crude that would have him running before we even started? You would have ruined any chances for us. I at least got him to come over."

"Because he thinks we are going to have a meeting! Fuck you, Cub. The last thing I want to do is talk business with someone like Grian."

And that did it. Grian suddenly felt so numb, but he wouldn't let that get to him. He suddenly stood straight, raising his head and standing tall and proud. He didn't have to take this. They had no right to talk about him like that. He wouldn’t just stand here and take that beating.

"Grian..." Scar took a step in his direction at the same time as Grian took a step back. "Don't leave, Grian. I didn't mean it like that."

"I'll leave now. You two keep fighting without me. Apparently I'm the last person you'd want to have around. Sorry for bothering you with my presence.”

Scar and Cub were startled at his cold voice and looked at him wide-eyed, almost as if they had forgotten about his presence.

Grian laughed, but it sounded hollow in his own ears. Damn if he had his Elytra on he would have been already high in the sky and away, but no he had left that home in favour of his outfit looking nice. Had him hoping for even one tiny compliment from them been too much to ask for?

Scar turned to look at Cub with a panicked expression, but Grian turned around. He didn't care. He just wanted to leave with the dignity he had left. Maybe go straight to Mumbo’s place and cry his eyes out.

"From now on please refrain from contacting me. Do all of your business with Mumbo and Iskall", Grian replied, doing his best to keep the pain out of his voice. But who could blame him? He had always enjoyed Scar and Cub's company, even when they were on opposing sites in the Shopping District. Every time they were nice to him he could dream about their relationship turning into something more.

The second he reached the exit of the Club an iron gate lowered down, blocking his way out. He turned around again and glared at Cub who had his hand on a lever.

"Are you two serious?" Grian looked at them, fury in his eyes. "First you make it pretty clear that you don't want me here, and now you don't want to let me leave?"

"We want you here!", Scar protested, hurrying up to Grian, his robe slipping of his shoulders and lying in the dust. Grian kept his eyes focused on that piece of fabric. He crossed his hands in front of his body. He didn't want to be here anymore. He just wanted to leave.

"Grian, please."

There was a sigh and more steps and then Cubs voice, so calm again, spoke up. "I know my dear husband can sometimes be... a bit over the top. He is a little diva-" There was an annoyed huff by Scar, but Cub chose to ignore it "-but he really didn't mean it that way. And he is right. It is kind of my fault that there was a misunderstanding."

There was a hand on Grian's shoulder, he flinched and the hand retreated again at once. "Grian..." Scar sounded so hurt that Grian couldn't help himself but look up again into Scar's face. His eyes were wide and filled with sadness and guilt. "I'm really sorry. I just... I was nervous all day and looking forward to this and I kind of got carried away there. Let's just say this is not what I imagined to happen."

"Don't start again, honey."

"Well neither did I...", Grian grumbled "And I still don't get what it's all about."

Scar sighed before muttering quietly. "I knew I should have been the one to write the letter."

"Yes, yes. But if I had written it there would have been no misunderstandings! I would have just flat out told him that we want to fuck him."

Grian's eyes widened and he felt frozen in place, his brain almost unable to compute the words he just heard. Had Scar said what Grian thought he had?

"Scar!", Cub protested, "Don't say it like that! That's why I wrote that damn letter! You would have created a whole other misunderstanding."

"But it's just the truth."

They kept on bickering, right in front of Grian, but Grian wasn't listening anymore. He just couldn't think clearly. The only thing inside his head was what Scar had said. This meeting hadn't been about business at all. They had invited him over for... For what? To have sex with him. So him agreeing to this made them think he was interested. No wonder Scar had been so annoyed. No wonder he had been dressed like that when Grian had come. He had been expecting pleasure and Grian had come for business.

"I'd still like to leave.", Grian finally spoke up quietly, interrupting their bickering. Both of them stopped and looked at him and Scar wasn't really able to hide his disappointment as well as Cub.

"That's... That's perfectly fine. Sorry you had to come over all the way for this."

Grian nodded and he looked at the ground once more, unable to look them into their faces. A little voice inside kept telling him to accept the offer. He'd never have a chance like that again. That was his one shot to feel loved by the guys he had a crush on. For one night – for this one time – he could pretend that they were in love with him, that they wanted him to be part of their marriage.

"But thanks I guess. For liking me enough to invite me into your bedroom, I guess. I'm just... You guys are nice and amazing, but I just don't think..." Grian could hear his voice crack and he cleared his throat before continuing on. "I'm not really interested in casual hook-ups like that."

"See. Told you, you would cause misunderstandings too, babe."

Grian looked at Cub in confusion who just chuckled a gentle smile on his face that got Grian to feel a warm sensation in his chest.

"Grian. We want no business meetings and no hook up. Me and Scar want you to join our relationship. This was supposed to be a date."

Grian's heart started racing like crazy all of the sudden. His face felt unbelievably hot. "W-what?", he asked, a stuttering mess.

Scar now smiled as well and it made his whole face look even more handsome. "We like you, Grian. Both of us. When you said you'd come over, we thought you might be interested in us as well. It's okay if you are not. I mean... I guess I reacted a little badly back there. I just was disappointed and-"

Grian didn't let Scar finish that sentence, grabbing him and pulling him into a kiss. It was soft and didn't last long. When Grian broke the kiss he turned his head to look at Cub and amazingly enough Cub seemed to understand what he wanted, because he came closer and pressed his lips to Grian's. It only took a few seconds for Grian to be embraced into two pair of arms and he had never felt better about it.

"I guess that makes your answer to our proposal pretty clear", Cub muttered jokingly and Grian couldn't help but giggle.

"I accept. And by that I mean, I'd like to try the dating thing. I... I've had a crush on the two of you for the longest time, I just never thought it would come to anything."

Scar made a cooing noise and Grian blushed even harder. They let him out of the embrace only for Scar to take his hand and pull him to the table at the side of the pool. Grian smiled brightly, taking off his blazer and throwing it to the side.

And when he sat between Cub and Scar, both looking at him with loving gazes, he couldn’t think of a more perfect moment than this.

[jayjaysocks]

Listing my favorite animes (because I’m jumping on the bandwagon)

❗️⚠️ *spoilers!! (Duh)* ❗️⚠️

5. Deadman Wonderland

I was really really sad when I found out this anime got cancelled. The music was fantastic, the animation was really good, and the voice acting was incredible. Even the fucking dubbed version (I loved the voice they chose for Senji. God he was hilarious). I binged this show so fucking fast it wasn’t even funny. I loved watching the characters go through their own struggles and grow as people in the very small amount of episodes provided. There was a lot of development within the snippet that we actually saw, and I was thoroughly impressed with how well it was done. I wanted to scream or something when I found out there wouldn’t be a second season.

Sigh. Oh well. At least we got some of the manga’s masterpiece translated into a show, even if we were missing some fucking awesome characters.

4. Guilty Crown

Ugh, don’t even get me started. This anime was beautiful and I got so invested so freaking quickly. I literally go back every few years to rewatch it because I get ship starved.

Shu and Inori’s story was so beautifully done; between Shu uncovering his courage and Inori’s journey of self-discovery, I was continuously awe-struck and filled with feelings—I mean, I had never felt such raw emotion while watching something and I was completely blown away by the affect it had on me. Anger, hatred, sadness, it was all there (even for the main character lmao) and it was one of the first times I had ever felt a ship so heavily that I literally cried at the end. It was one of the very first Animes I’d ever seen and was one of the reasons I got such a taste for them. Thanks for throwing me down that rabbit hole, GC.

3. Soul Eater

This was literally the first Anime I’d ever seen, and my god I couldn’t have asked for a better starter. What I like about this one is that it’s style is so unique and different. It’s very punk and grunge, something I admired and appreciated in a genre that is normally the opposite (like Guilty Crown, for example). Also the fight scenes were badass, like holy shit just look at that gif ??? Freaking amazing.

I loved the way the show transitioned from light hearted to intense and adrenaline pumping so effortlessly. That can be said about a lot of shows, but this one went from *haha cute show* to *holy shit, like they’re actually gonna die ohmygod howaretheygoingtosurvivethis* so smoothly I was genuinely surprised. They made one of the main villains actually cool and each character had their own beautifully done arc. I loved and adored how the show solidified and expanded on the different friendships/relationships that were involved—specifically Soul and Maka’s (also, holy shit, Stein’s arc? Fucking prime, dude). There was a lot of growth in each and every friendship (CRONA!!!), and that really pushed the viewer to invest in the individual characters.

I am fucking delighted that this was my first anime, and (though the ending was a little anticlimactic) it remains one of my top favorites to this day. It set the bar pretty fucking high, and for that I am extremely greatful.

No one asked for Soul Eater: Not! It is the unspoken sin of the Soul Eater world (then again, it is called Soul Eater: Not!)

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

If you have been following me for a while, then you are no stranger to my love of FMAB. Some of my most popular posts are about this anime, and for good reason.

Unfortunately, I was late to the party. I actually didn’t watch this until last year, but got invested really damn quick. I have a tendency to be extremely picky about the animes that I watch/like (which is why NONE of these shows are that recent), to the point that I will literally research them before I start watching (a bad habit, do not copy me). I have an incomparably hard time finishing a show when I start, because I get bored really quickly, but this was an exception. I started watching and I just... didn’t stop. I spent a straight week watching FMAB, gobbling it up during any small amount free time I could manage, and finished it before I even knew what happened. I wasn’t picky about it, I didn’t research it, I just dove right in and gosh, I was not disappointed.

The subtle romance that was alluded throughout the entire show was super cute, the devotion the brothers had for each other was to die for, and the struggles that each person went through was more than moving. I never once found myself bored while watching, and that’s saying a lot for my adhd ass. I was invested in each and every second of that damn anime and I was never, ever left underwhelmed. That probably had to do with the fact that every. Single. Character. Had a purpose. I’m not even kidding. Every single person contributed to the big fight at the end and that alone is fucking fantastic.

Not to mention ALL the women, every female character, was a badass bitch. None of them were reduced to sex appeal or romantic subplot, they all had real feelings, real arcs and real, unadulterated badassery that I thoroughly admired and appreciated. I could watch this anime over and over again every single month and I wouldn’t get bored. Between the emotional struggle, self discovery, and personal development of each character, I promise you will not see a lack of plot or meaning here. The more you watch, the more you discover and that is not a lie. There are so many layers to its story, which only makes me wish I had watched this sooner.

There is nothing I have to offer in the ways of criticism, and for that I couldn’t be happier. Thank you, Hiromu Arakawa, for such an incredible piece of art. You deserve every bit of love that this manga/anime gets. You go girl.

1. Cowboy Bepop

Holy shit holy shit holy shit this anime is so fucking good and it has been my favorite for so damn long. I have been watching anime for years, and while some of the shows in my list have moved around, this one has yet to be bumped down from the top (and I doubt it ever will). There’s a reason it became such a cult classic.

For starters, the animation. I mean, just look at Spike and the way they animate his fighting (yes I am aware that this gif is from the movie, but that still doesn’t change my point). The sequences in the show/film have been reused in many other shows and for good reason. It’s good, incredible, actually and they make him look so badass with just a few hand movements. I was consistently impressed with the way the fight scenes were portrayed and wasn’t ever left underwhelmed or disappointed (or, for that matter, feeling like they completely over exaggerated/overcompensated the scene with huge close-ups and tons of debris and lights). I loved watching this and my heart was always pounding with every intense interaction. I didn’t feel bored during any of the episodes and always found myself laughing when they cracked a joke—pretty much all of their funny lines hit and that’s saying something, dude.

The show, while having a lighthearted surface, has a heavy meaning that you don’t see at first glance. It’s about dealing with grief and loss, and how the characters themselves accomplished that in different ways. The most prominent quote is the biggest indication of its moral “you’re gonna carry that weight”. Basically: ‘You’ve gotta pick up your baggage, because the world moves on, with or without you’. Or ‘You’re going to carry that weight whether you like it or not, because life keeps going’. When I figured out the show’s actual message, while staring at my ceiling in the long hours of the night, I almost cried. This realization brought something entirely different to the table, a new understanding of the show’s characters and overall essence.

The main characters, all of them, had depth. They had real, palpable depth, and even if you didn’t want to care you found yourself seriously interested in their lives. Each of them had relatively shitty pasts. Faye with her lost memories, Spike with Julia and the people who fucked him over, Jet with his old flame and the ISSP, Ed and her/his father... throughout the entire show we got to see how all of them dealt with these things, whether they wanted to continue on with life or not. The way they portrayed it was engaging, because the characters individual, contrasting journeys weren’t repetitive or one note. The beauty that the show holds so achinging close to its core, the layers of grief that the characters are wrapped in so delicately is almost suffocatingly real—because they’re all different. It’s something you discover when you think on the subject in a deeper light, which is another reason why I enjoy it so much. It has both a surface story and a deeper one. You can either take the show at face value or choose to understand the underlying moral.

This show inspired my very first, thoroughly fleshed out OC, and continues to inspire me to this day. It has contributed to my own personal growth, and has helped push me to continue my art and writing. It is beautifully written, beautifully executed and even though some of the episodes seem like filler, it has never disappointed me. I rewatch it all the time because there’s something so infinitely refreshing about the beauty of this anime, whether it be the way we watch the characters develop or the overall moral it portrays. This show has given us a message that is essentially timeless, it can be ‘carried’ through generation after generation, and still have the same impact—something I absolutely fucking adore.

I owe so much to this anime, including my very own artistic development. I discovered it during a really shitty time in my life and I couldn’t have asked for better timing. I will never tire of the bittersweet message or the thoroughly fucking fantastic animation. Everyone who contributed to this masterpiece deserves love, because it’s seriously fucking gold.

[neoniverse]

heal me. | chapter II

disclaimer: this series is a work of fiction. any businesses, events or incidents are products of my wide imagination. all of the character’s personality does not reflect and has nothing to do in real life.

warnings: smut, angst, usage of strong language, mentions of death, alcohol & drugs, cheating issues and lots of flashbacks (read each chapter carefully)

pairings: jung jaehyun x reader

a/n: unedited ;)

« CHAPTER I / CHAPTER III »

“Hey, you still there?”

“Who’s this?”

The other line silenced—a brief pause. I’m certain it’s not him.

“Jaehyun.” I froze in my spot. Holy crap.

“And what’s the bouquet for, Mr. Jung?” I don’t even recognize my own voice, I’m agitated, again.

“I just wanted to express my gratitude.” His voice is so low, I can feel the depths of it pulling me. He sounds so cozy—alluring, to be honest. My breathing is slowing, almost hitching. I’m abruptly aware Johnny is staring at me, brows furrowed, I dart to my swivel chair and turned it around.

“It’s not like I did something honorable.” Stay calm, Y/N. Breathe.

“Hmm. Well, fortunately, I’m certain you did.”

“Thank you for the roses, Mr. Jung.” I’m all trepidatious—my traitor heart is abnormally beating.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Oh hell, I can visualize the enticing gleam in his dark brown eyes. How can he make such four words titillate? He hang up. I turned around again, phone in the chest and eyes closed.

“I’m assuming there’s a comeback, yes?”

“Words, Johnny.” I snap. He laughed as if I just told him a funny joke.

But me and Jaehyun again? To hell with that. My feelings are too fragile, that being with him could even crush my heart into thousands of pieces. That’s how fragile my whole system is. I will never forget the day he chose to cheat on me.

Loving someone is so shallow that it could bring pain because you have to sacrifice something, but it doesn’t have to be always painful. You should also learn how to love yourself.

When I left him, I thought things will go better. I looked desperate, finding for solace to everyone’s arms after I lost Jaehyun, tons of projects, my interest in doing things I like and my mother. Her death is something I will always look back on because I wasn’t with her. 

I lost her.

For the times that I also lost myself, Johnny had come to save my losing ass to the pit of darkness and loneliness. I’m so thankful for him even though he reminds me of Jaehyun.

I am restless that night, not paying attention and rolling in the sheets of my bed. Dreaming of something that will enliven myself and dark, deep unfathomed places. I woke up in the middle of the night, ended up watching the still, lit up busy city lights before crying myself back to sleep.

The first week of April went smooth and peaceful. I often see Jaehyun in the site but I decided to wait for him to leave so I could completely avoid him. Having Jaehyun close to me is something I never prayed for. I still hate his guts.

“How about we go to a nightclub after this and at least have some fun? You guys, especially Y/N, looks so exhausted as fuck.”

Johnny shouted in delight. “Damn, that’s what I’m talking about!”

Like what Architect Lee suggested, we went to a club that Johnny recommended. It was just a ten minute drive from the office.

“Ladies, this is my cousin Mark,” Johnny introduced the man who just came—probably in this twenties. His hair is ruffled jet black and he’s wearing white button-down dress shirt, sleeves are rolled up three-fourth. “Mark, this is Y/N, Seolhee and Rosé.”

“Architect Rosé Park.”

“Hi! I’m Architect Seolhee Lee!”

Mark extends his hand so I immediately placed my hand in his. He smiled and sat in the empty space of the black leather couch beside me.

Rosé offered me a shot of foreign alcohol, Jägermeister. She seems to be a party girl who knows a lot of things in alcoholic beverages. I drink, but I have to tolerate myself. For the last time I was drunk, I ended up sleeping in my bathtub because I kept going back to the bathroom.

We ended up finishing one bottle of Jägermeister and JD and two bottles of vodka before finding ourselves on the dance floor. The colorful lights strobed with the blasting music. I danced and danced until I felt someone staring at me.

I looked around to find the set of eyes who has been observing my every move, grind, and ruffling of hair. As I try to look for them on the dance floor, my eyes accidentally stayed in the second floor. I saw Jaehyun sitting in the black velvet couch, eyeing me as if I’m his prey. He drank the dark-colored liquid that was in his glass.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to look for him, again. He wasn’t there anymore.

The fuck?

“Y/N! Is that you?”

I promptly looked behind me and saw an unfamiliar person in front of me. My brows furrowed for a moment.

“Oh my god,” I exclaimed before hugging him. “Madexeus!”

He chuckled and tightened the hug. We moved away from the dance floor to sit on the high chairs placed before the bartender’s counter.

“2 glasses of my regular, please,” He told the bartender before looking at me. “Holy shit. Is that really you?”

I shrugged. “How long have you been here? It literally felt like ages since I last saw you.”

“Just came here for a short visit, though.” He passed a glass to me. “And I also heard what happened to your mother. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a short smile and drank the alcohol that felt like thousands of knives in my throat. The pain of losing my own mother is still in my heart, stabbed like a poisonous dagger.

“Thanks. I’m fine,” I lied. “It has been two years, already, Xeus. There’s no way I could never get over to that.”

“What are you doing for living now? Am I free to call you Doctor Y/N now?”

“Oh, that. I didn’t pursue it anymore. I’m an Engineer now, though!”

I’ll try to be happy, at least for my mother and not for anybody else.

“Well, are you sti-”

I was about to talk when someone gracefully dragged me from my seat. He lifted me up and placed my stomach to his shoulder like I’m a sack.

“What the fuck? Help!” I shouted and averted his hands from holding my legs in place.

“Shut your ass up or I will spank that.”

The voice is so manly, authoritative and dominant. There’s only one person I know who is pretty much likely to act like that. He opened the shotgun seat’s door before carefully putting me inside. I pushed myself more to the side of the door.

When he entered the car, we fell silent.

“Jaehyun, just bring me back insi-”

“No and I wont.”

“Why did you dragged me just like that, then?!”

“Who are you with? That ugly ass man or my cousin Johnny again?”

His left hand gripped the steering wheel while the other hand is behind my headrest. Jaehyun revived the engine before drifting away from the club’s valet parking. I looked at the buildings outside.

“Does it matter to you if I’m going out with one of them?” I softly whispered.

His eyes focused on the road.

“Are you avoiding me?” He scoffed. “Yeah, of course, you’re avoiding me.”

I remained my eyes to the buildings outside until Jaehyun pulled up somewhere unbeknownst to me. He removed his seat belt and went out. I rolled my eyes before following him.

He sat on the hood of the car and slid his hands to the pockets of his black slacks. I sat beside him, admiring the view of city lights.

“That night..” He heaved a deep sigh. “I was drugged by Chaewon. That’s why I wasn’t able to remember everything when you asked me.”

I remained silent. 

Speechless.

“When.. did you know about this?” I asked, still looking straight at the view.

“A week after you moved out and left me alone, broken.”

He knew and he didn’t even bother to tell me even a single detail about it.

“Chaewon is my old secretary’s sister. I was out with my brother that time when my secretary was with her. She saw me and greeted us. Apparently, she knew me already that time but acted like she didn’t. I don’t remember the other things that happened after that. All I know is she’s the one who drugged me.” 

Jaehyun stared at me and I locked gazes with him.

“I didn’t bother telling you since you already had Johnny beside you. I also heard from him that you lost your interest in Engineering when your mother died that’s why I asked him to make you back on track again. Because I know I won’t be able to do so.”

Fresh hot tears slowly streamed down to my cheeks, which made my heart clenched. I couldn’t stop the tremendous pain I’m feeling.

“I-I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He looked away, realizing what I said before moving closer to me. “Shh. Hey, love, it’s alright.”

“Jae, I’m sorry,” I said, softly. He cupped my face to wipe the tears.

Jaehyun didn’t answer. Instead, he held my head and pulled me. Making me lean on his chest. I bit my lower lip to cease my loud sobs.

That same night, Jaehyun drove me back to my penthouse. I dozed myself to sleep so I could at least escape from reality. The day after next, I visited the site to check the supplies if we ran out of something.

“Excuse me. Are you Engineer L/N?”

I looked behind me to see who called me when a man in dark blue button-down dress shirt, red necktie and dark blue slacks appeared in front of me.

“Yes, and you are?”

“Taeyong. May I ask if Jaehyun Jung is here?”

Jaehyun?

“He’s not yet here. Jaehyun often goes here at around 4 pm.” I answered while closing the folder I’m holding.

“Oh, yeah? Thank you, gorgeous.”

“Wait! Are you Jaehyun’s cousin? I can contact him if you want.”

He turned around again and removed his wayfarers.

“I’m his brother, Taeyong.” He winked. “It’s already quarter to four, maybe I could stay and wait for him here?”

I led him towards the office. When I opened the door, Johnny was scanning to some paperworks.

“Come on. It’s hot there, we have AC inside.”

He entered the room and silently sat on the black couch beside Johnny’s desk.

“Jae-” Johnny stopped. “Holy fuck, man!”

The Taeyong guy chuckled. “I knew you would be here, John. What’s up?”

Johnny sat on the single couch, still surprised.

“I’ll just go outside.”

I immediately went out afterwards. If he is Jaehyun’s brother, how come I haven’t seen him before?

“Hey.”

I almost fell on my feet when I heard Jaehyun spoke. He laughed. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, open at the collar and sleeves are rolled up, and gray slacks. His gray coat is hanging on his arm. 

“Your brother’s inside,” I said, softly. His brows furrowed.

“My what?”

“Taeyong? Your brother?”

His jaw clenched and instantly opened the office door.

I stood behind Jaehyun and saw his brother grinning widely.

“Oh. Hey there, brother. Miss me?”

“What are you doing here?” Jaehyun authoritative asked. What’s with them?

He held my hand and pulled me closer to him.

“Woah. I won’t steal your lady. Right, gorgeous?” Taeyong looked at me. “Anyway, since you’re already here, come home tonight. Father’s asking for your presence at the family dinner.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “And if I won’t show up?”

“Oh, you would absolutely want to, dear brother.”

Taeyong went outside and walked towards his orange Lamborghini. Jaehyun made his way to his black Tesla and they both drove away from the site.

“What’s with them?” I asked Johnny. He just shrugged.

Another week has passed when I was invited to a charity event in Paris. I wore a simple maroon satin slip dress that ended just one inch below my knees and hugged my body well. Then I let my ash brown soft wavy hair down.

The whole event was so boring, it was all about business and that’s not even my field. I looked at the guests and all of them are known for being wealthy and leading capitals of fiscals or law firms. If not, most of them are either CEO or stockholders.

I finished the last faint brown-colored liquid in my wine flute in just one drink and stood up so I could leave the place quietly. I was about to exit peacefully when I bumped into someone’s shoulder, making me almost stumble on my own feet.

“We met again, gorgeous.”

I looked up to face the person and saw a familiar face— the owner of same playful grin.

“Allow me to introduce myself again and make up for my first bad impression to you,” He offered his right hand. “I’m Taeyong Lee.”

[nyeddleblog]

Pairing: Johnny Utah x Reader.

Warnings: Language, virginity lost, angst, smut.

Request: Hi yes, I was wondering if you could write Johnny Utah smut if that’s possible? Xo

Summary: You were discovering your sexual life when you met him; you were shy and insecure, but he was glad to help.

You called him Jo, and he absolutely hated it.

He had always been there, ever since your brother brought him home and introduced him as his best friend. You’ve known Johnny from the days he was a quarterback punk, to the day he became an FBI agent.

But you saw him no more.

Your brother said he’d come back for his birthday, but then he said he’d be back for your birthday; he changed it to Christmas, New Year, Prom, your Graduation, his degree and on and on. You finally moved to College and Johnny Utah was rightfully out of your life.

Jo was unpredictable; he used to play fiercely with your brother when they were kids, but he’d always treat you like a queen. When you were old enough, he’d be your date to the school dances, and he’d scare any guy who dared to lay an eye on you. He became your first kiss when you turned fourteen, he held your hand when you watched horror movies with them and he’d cuddle you on cold nights.

So it was surprising that he didn’t cross your mind, not even once when your first boyfriend arrived. You were in college and he was in the same faculty as you were; both in your third year.

His name didn’t matter, his experience did. He didn’t pressure you to anything, but he didn’t wait for you either. You never thought about your lack of romantic life until he started it; you never thought about sex either, until he left you because you were (in his words) a “prude” who’d never have sex with him.

It hurt at first because you thought about the good things on your relationship; he was funny and bold, and always took you out of your comfort zone, but later on, it became a curious need on the back of your mind.

What was so good about sex, anyway?

Your curiosity couldn’t get what it wanted right away, though; you came back home for Christmas and it became difficult to get laid. There was no comprehension of what it could possibly feel like to have sex, but you knew you’d understand it the moment you did it.

The day before New Year’s Eve, in the very comfortable bed of a guy you just met, your doings were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You didn’t even realize you brought your phone until the guy, ready to stuff you like a Thanksgiving Turkey, grumbled and asked you to please pick it up.

“Hello...?” you softly called. Your brother giggled on the other line, making you roll your eyes. “You know, asshole, I’m a bit busy, so...”

“No! [Name]! Wait, wait! I have really big news to tell you!”

You gave the stranger an apologetic look and he just huffed, starting to play with the edges of your panties. Humming, you let your brother know to proceed.

“Johnny came back!” And then another giggle was heard in the background, and your heart did a backflip you weren’t ready to. You gasped, pushed the guy aside and started dressing up. “Where are you, anyway? Do you need me to pick you up?”

Zipping your dress up, you waved goodbye to the, now confused, man. He seemed near to yelling at you, but you were quicker and left his apartment in around thirty seconds. “Nope, I’m like five minutes walking...”

“It’s late” you heard Jo’s voice remark. Your brother agreed instantly.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! For what I recall, I am the girl who survived the rest of High School without two big assholes looking after her.” The two men seemed silent on the other line “Besides, I’m walking on a good place of the neighborhood, I’ll be there right away. Love ya’.”

And you hung up, taking the elevator. Its mirror gave you a mild confidence; since when did you become such a hottie? Your lips were swollen in the best way after the heavy makeout, your bra lace peaked on the cleavage of your dress and your hair rebelled up before you. What should be looking vulgar, was actually giving you some sort of self-esteem bust-up and dominance.

The walk home would have been silent if it wasn’t for your excited humming and the soft tapping of your heels. Fortunately, the streets weren’t lonely, and the people you encountered would either stare at you with an empathetic smile or just wonder how someone could represent such happy body language.

Before entering, you readjusted your cleavage and tied your hair in a high ponytail, not wanting your parents to assume anything (even if they would be right). Breath in, breath out and you stepped into the house.

It was little to say that Jonathan hugged you like his life depended on you because when he saw you, you stopped standing on the ground and he spent at least five minutes spinning you around.

“How’s my little peachmuffin?” Spin “How’s my babygirl?” Spin. “...My princess?” Spin. “...My darling?” Spin. “...My sunshine?” SPIN. “GOD, I MISSED YOU!”

You stumbled back on your feet and giggled. He was taller, bulkier and much, much prettier than when he left. Something in his eyes told you that he had been through a lot, but that he was the same soft boy that left you.

“What have you been up to, little lady?” he inquired, caressing your hair exactly the way you hated. “You look... Grown”

“That’s because I’m 22, you ass.”

He smirked and pinched your cheek like he used to do whenever he had new stuff to bother you with.

“You’re still the bratty little sister of my best friend...” was his clever answer, but once your brother wasn’t looking he leaned in to whisper lowly “That never stopped us before, did it?”

A gasp fell from your lips and you were about to smack him when the other grown-ass boy took Johnny by the wrist and brought him to his side to tell him about another new girl he just fucked. That’s how you were left alone for the rest of the night, having to send him hateful glares and frowns so he wouldn’t think you were delighted by his words.

Since when was he a fuckboy? Since when did he listen to your brother talk about his girls? Since when did he have the right to flirt with you? SINCE WHEN DID YOU GUYS DO ANYTHING BESIDES...?! Okay, you had kissed... BUT THOSE WERE PECKS! He said it as if you basically fucked in a bathroom stall!

After dinner, you left for your room and grumbled freely about his boldness; yes, he was pretty! Yes, he used to be a gentleman! Yes, he was really clever and was always protecting you! But did any of that give him the right to insinuate things?! NO! Did it give him the right to claim your heart?! MAYBE SO.

A knock on your door stopped your walking around. Doubtful, you ran back to your bed and buried yourself between the sheets like a little kid. Was it him? It probably was... He was the only one in the house who knocked before entering...

“[Name]...?” his voice filled the room as he entered. You shrank inside the small fort and almost saw the way he smiled tenderly “[Name], hey...” the boy chuckled, closing the door behind him. “C’mon, let’s talk. I haven’t seen you in a really long time...”

“Just because that’s what you chose...” you dared to speak. “You preferred working before coming to see us, you completely forgot about us! About me...”

A disbelieved exhale left him, and he immediately ordered you to look at him; of course, he’d think you were being unfair, he didn’t know all the shit you had to go through without him! “Baby, at least move aside so we can have a real talk.”

“No, don’t wanna’” you pouted. His hands easily found your sides and, picking you up, he gave himself some space in the bed. “That’s unfair...”

“Life is not fair.”

You immediately rolled your eyes and he chuckled once again; his long arms tried not to crush you as he embraced your body sweetly.

“You know if you came here to talk to me about how life is not always like you want it to and all that, I will kick you out of my room.”

“I actually came here to talk to you about how much I’ve been wanting to kiss your lips ever since I left Ohio” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but you heard him either way.

“Oh, I bet you say that to...”

“No, I don’t.” he interrupted. “I wouldn’t use my cliché pick-up lines on someone as important as you are, [Name]. I’ve liked you since I was like seventeen...”

Wondering how it’d feel like you leaned in to kiss him. A sigh left his lips and his thumb found your cheekbone. You were always a good kisser, he knew that, but did you know that he loved the feeling of your breathing against his cheek as he intruded your mouth with his tongue?

Things didn’t go soft and gentle; they didn’t go the way he expected. He had you whimpering against his fingers and he didn’t even know when his hand traveled all the way from your hip to your panties. He put them aside and you tangled your arms around his neck.

“Fuck, peachmuffin, you’re so wet...”

“Please don’t call me ‘peachmuffin’ while you’re fingering me...”

A second finger made its way into you. You let out a gasp, your eyes rolling back and his lips encountering your jaw. He started stretching you out slowly, suppressing the need of wrecking you against the mattress; he somewhat suspected that you were a virgin, but the good time he was spending had him contradicting his first intentions.

“I really wanted to come here and cuddle you...” he confessed breathless, hiding his face on your shoulder. “I really don’t want you to think this was my plan all along... If you want to, we could stop.”

“I don’t want to stop. Is that okay with you?” you rasped out: “This... T-this feels really well and you have to... I need you to keep going...”

His fingers curled inside you and your back arched unconsciously against his chest. Johnny backed away from your neck to admire the reactions you made, starting to need something to bust up his ego.

Then, your beautiful eyes were surrounded by your tears and he felt selfish for not wanting you to cum around his fingers. He wanted to feel your walls clench around his cock, he wanted it to be the owner of your first orgasm.

“[Name], princess... Can I...?”

You barely contained your excitement when your hands traveled to his crotch, wanting nothing else but to feel his size. His member throbbed into your palm and your mouth watered.

He unzipped his jeans and pulled down from the waistband of his boxers, his dick slapping against his stomach with a seemingly hurtful force. His pained face almost made you laugh but his hand pumped on it, and the beautiful sound he made was enough to make you open your legs just a bit more.

“Can I please fuck you, my love?” he asked with trembling lips. You nodded, opening your mouth to create a verbal response, but just ending up leaning in to kiss him. “I adore you, sunshine.”

The tip of his cock pressed against your slick pussy, his hands coming to maintain your hips in place as he pushed himself inside. You gasped, trying your best to get used to his size, his hips finally resting on yours

“Does it hurt?”

“J-just a little bit...”

Johnny took his time on you, not wanting to move until you were completely sure you wanted him to. His eyes admired your rolled-up shirt, your flushed skin, the way you squeezed your eyes shut so you could avoid eye contact.

“Can I take your panties off? They’re kind of digging into my dick and...”

“Yes, Jo, you can.”

He went out of you with a deliciously slow move, his fingers hooked on the lace to slip it down your legs. A chocked moan fell from John when the view hit him; he teased your swollen clit with his tip and a sweet mewl was shot by your plump lips.

As he directed himself into your entrance once more, he raised one of your legs to support your knee on his shoulder. That was enough of a warning for you to firmly believe he wouldn’t go as gentle as he did before.

“Jo...” you called out with an embarrassingly needy tone. “I’ve... I’m not used to... I really need you to go soft on me...”

His eyes widened and pounding his tip into you, his thumb pressed into your bottom lip. He leaned in to leave a soft peck on it and whispered:

“I know, baby, I’m not going rough on you.”

His skin met yours once more and he couldn’t leave his moaning for himself; he wanted you to whimper and want him just as much as he wanted you. When you asked him to move, his fingers gave the bund of nerves teasing attention.

“I love you, I love you, I love you...” he whimpered, snapping his hips; delving into you mercilessly but with enough gentleness to not overwhelm you “Oh, darling, I love you.”

His fingers started to pinch on your clit as he tried to give you enough pleasure to resemble his, but when you tightened around him a loud satisfied moan echoed into the walls and your orgasm crashed into his.

He got out of you quickly, spilling himself on your stomach and panting against your chest. John’s fingers found your entrance, pounding into you roughly to milk your orgasm. You couldn’t help but tremble until you were finished, every inch of your body exhausted and sensitive.

“I...” he inhaled sharply, trying to find the strength to talk “I didn’t come to do this, but I really, really do love you.”

You smiled lazily, rolling on to his side to rest your head on his chest and hear his heartbeat slow down.

“I think I kinda... love you too.”

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 77

Harper arched her back in bliss, it was like life was being breathed into her again after a lifetime of coma, his skin rubbing against hers, it was intoxicating to feel all those muscles on his back flexing and rippling under her fingers, to say she had missed him and that cathedral of a body was an understatement. Hard and throbbing he pushed himself agaist her and there was nothing else she could or wanted to do then open her legs and welcome him back inside her warm body that had been deprived of his love and attention for way too long, “I need you inside of me” she breathed in his ear, he was being considerate with foreplay as always, but the fire was burning out of control already, it was time for the real deal, her head fell back and her mouth formed a silent ‘O’ as he slowly entered her, making her feel like she was going to burst. No matter how many times they had made love in the past, she would never get used to his gigantic size. “You ok?” he held himself up on stretched arms above her, with a mix of lust and concern in his glazed over eyes. Without a word but with a simple grin, she clasped her legs around his waist to urge him to move and push himself further and even deeper inside of her. Jared threw his head in his neck with a blissful groan. It was her whispered “come on big boy, just fuck me real hard and good” that drove him insane and his hips started a hard, slow thrusting that had her completely breathless by the time he sped things up. Slowly she was losing her mind in the best way possible, she lost all control over her speech, all she could utter were moans of painful, yet delightful pleasure, seeing her wriggle underneath him was so intoxicating even if they were doing plain missionary, her hands kneading her breasts, fingers tweaking her nipples, moaning and groaning her way up to a much needed orgasm but that orgasm would have to wait a little, first he was going to destroy that sweet pussy of hers even harder. “I fucking love you so much” he groaned at her, a rush of blood clouding his head, it had been too long, he wasn’t going to last long but it didn’t matter, they could do it again and again and again all through the night and if not tonight then there was always the rest of their lives, because he wasn’t going to let her slip away anymore. His hips pushed harder and faster, the white hot heat building up in his groin with every thrust, Harper was suddenly swept up in a whirlwind of sensations and right after him, she too screamed out her orgasm.

Fifteen minutes later they were still glued to each other, like both their bodies had morphed into one, “don't ever leave me again, I don't wanna be without you, not even for one more second” he breathed against her forehead, being the first to break the silence between them. He could see Harper's faint smile and then she exhaled so deep like she had been waiting a lifetime to exhale and that's when he saw the tears roll down, “hey, hey, what's wrong? Babe?” he cupped her face in his hands “did I say or do something wrong?”. Harper shook her head, “No..it's not you..I don't know what's wrong..” she sniffed through her tears, “you just had so much on your plate..all that pent up stress and tension..” he kissed her wet eyes.  “Just let it go, we're together now and that's all that matters, I'll help you through this, I promise” he pulled her even closer to him, dotting butterfly kisses all over her tear-stained face and his heart jumped when she held on to him and released all the tears she had in her. “I've missed you so much” she breathed, “not as much as I missed you, I was so lost without you” Jared reassured her but she suddenly pulled away from him, with a look that betrayed she didn't believe him “what? What is it?” fear squeezed his throat together. “Steph..you had a call with Steph before..you say you've missed me so much, but you still hooked up with her so soon after..us..oh djeez, now I sound like a jealous bitch” she knew she was being completely irrational but she just could help it. “You have every right to say what you say, you're right, it was the old me that resurfaced after you and I..well after we split up” he kept caressing and kissing her hair to have her relax a bit, he didn't want things to escalate between them, “I'm not that man anymore, that's all I can say”. Harper squinted her eyes “how do I know that? You were that man until..what? 48 hours or so ago?” it was a valid question, “true..but hooking up with Steph was out of..spite..I wasn't myself when you left me..I lost it and fell back into old habits..” he tried to explain but she was having none of it. “Old habits? I don't know if they're really old habits, or just who Jared is? We split up because you cheated remember?” this was not going well, not well at all, “I know..and I also know there's nothing I can say to change your mind, but I'm not gonna fuck things up between us ever again, I swear, just have a little faith..”. He was right, there was nothing he could say to miraculously make his past disappear, she had decided to take the plunge and given in to her feelings for him again, so she would just have to stick with it and start believing in his good intentions. “I think I can do that..” those six little words were all it took to defuse the situation, “good girl..Steph is out of my life, I chose you and I'll always choose you, I let things cloud my vision for the last time, she's a dumb mistake that's in the past, you are everything I need for a bright future” he kissed her bottom lip to erase the tiny pout that formed on there. “Just love me Jared, that's all I can ask, just love me the way only you can” she returned his kiss and soon all the tears were washed away by another round of glorious lovemaking.

”Any news?” Jared came walking out of the bathroom with a towel riding dangerously low on his hips, “no..no news” sighing she put her phone back on the nightstand and got a bit lost in her thoughts again, “no news is good news, right?” he sat down on the bed next to her and rubbed her thigh. “I guess so..I'll call Arno later on” she started to resurface again but she wasn't completely out yet, “so what do you want to do today?” his voice was so soft and tender, “Oh..well, I was thinking of checking in with Charles, even though I still think he's the root to all this evil..you know, bringing my parents here..” she sighed, “I know, but I honestly think that he had everyone's best intentions in mind..he's pretty shook up about everything's that happened..anyway, I'll come with you, we'll face him together, alright?” he tried to kiss her doubts away, but he knew they would only disappear when she faced Charles again and talked things through with him.

He loved walking around New York with her, here he felt he could do it because he could keep a certain kind of anonymity here, NY always kept it real, in sharp contrast to the gossip and glamour of LA, of which he was reminded by the constant buzzing in his pocket from Steph blowing up his phone even after he told her he wanted nothing more to do with her. The wonderful smell of fresh baked bread greeted them as he held the door open for Harper walking into the renowned bakery/coffee bar, “I love this place” he took off his coat and sat down, grabbing her hands, “and I didn't just choose it for its' wonderful breakfast but also for another reason” he grinned and looked out the window pointing “remember?”. Harper followed his gaze and then it dawned on her “Oohhh, the place where we first met..” she swallowed hard in excitement “that was such a weird moment”. Jared sat back grinning “weird and yet so amazing and so..normal, deep in my heart I wasn't surprised to see you turn up, I guess deep down I was really hoping it'd be you”, they were interrupted to place their order, which they did but as soon as the waiter left Harper squeezed his hand. “You were hoping for Coco to show up because you had met Harper first? Or were you feeling guilty somehow that you were going to meet Coco and in the back of your mind you were hoping for Harper?” her difficult question had him frowning and thinking for a second, pondering on his answer “Honestly, I was so fond of you both, I dreaded having to give up one for the other and then I got my prayers answered when Harper Coco showed up, I was so torn, there was Coco who was so intruiging and funny and artistic and mysterious who I was so completely besotted with even though I had never seen her, I knew in the depth of my heart that no matter how she looked, I'd fallen for her hook, line and sinker..and then there was Harper who was equally artistic and genius and completely nuts, fighting off guys twice her size, very high in energy, you were like a fucking loaded gun” his grin became bigger and bigger just talking about her “and then there was the way Harper looked that had my hormones racing, girl, I was so fuckin' jealous of Sean at the time, just the fact that you both were so physically and emotionally close”.

Harper nearly choked on her coffee “Sean and I..close? What a frikkin' nightmare he turned out to be, but it's kinda cute that you were actually jealous!! I didn't know what to make of you really..you constantly blew hot and cold on me” she lathered up a croissant with butter. “Oh really? surely there must have been something you liked about me?” he was fishing for compliments now, even after all this time she hadn't put all of her cards on the table, “I thought you had the cutest bubble butt I had ever seen” she giggled, it was a treat seeing her laugh again. “I agree, that is one of my finest assets” he hiccupped “what else?”, she stopped chewing for a second “apart from the fact that you're incredibly easy on the eye, you were also prepared to be my best friend and you supported my work from day one, that meant and means the world to me, but what I love the most about you is that you're so unconventional, you're quirky and extremely ambitious and driven but you also got the biggest heart, you were always there for me when I needed and need you most”. Every single compliment she was paying him made his heart burst, “you know you may have lost your title, but your true nobility and aristocracy always comes shining through, and then I haven't mentioned your breathtaking beauty yet”. Harper shifted uncomfortably in her seat “ok, ok, enough with the compliments..we've given each other a new chance so let's not try and fuck it up again..shall we start with that?” she pushed a strawberry in her mouth, she always had a hard time dealing with compliments. “Don't say 'fuck' too much, I'm having trouble enough keeping my cool just thinking about everything that we did last night..even you eating that strawberry is almost enough to send me over the edge, I'm getting old” he wiggled in his chair to make his point clear. “Old? You? Oh honey, after two toecurling orgasms, old is not the word that instantly comes to mind” teasing him, she let another strawberry  slip between her plump lips, giggling again like a school girl when she saw him squirm in his seat even more. “Anyway, we're in a public place so let's try and keep our hormones under control” there was a faint smile and a deep sigh as she came back to reality that wasn't exactly shiny and bright for her at the moment. “I wish I could cancel every point on my agenda and just disappear for a while..I just wish I could go back to that carefee time before all this” she took a sip of her hot coffee and stared at the spot where they first met, her eyes glazing over with the memory. Jared grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over it “I totally get that..why don't you come back with me to LA in a few days? We can pack up your stuff at your apartment and have it shipped to LA”. Harper's mouth fell open when he dropped that bomb “What? Wait..LA?” she pulled her hand back, “it's where I live, so yeah that's what I mean, LA is a lot more chill than New York, you'll move in with me and we can hide from the world for a while”. Harper's eyes became saucers “move in..with you?” she whispered in shock, “well yeah, unless you have some secret lover there that I don't know about and were planning to move in with him..of course I want you to move in with me, silly!”.

[inforapound]

Ease The Dawn  P.2  Ch.9

A/N - Thank you so much for reading and thank you for your likes and comments. Its really been motivating so thanks. 

Pairing - Ivar and Aethelswith   Words - 2,500        

Warnings - Historically inaccurate language, Canadian spelling, bratty Ivar

The sounds of etching on paper tricked his mind into feeling as if he had lived that very moment before. There was something in the way those scratches on her smooth paper warmed his senses, tugging at something deep in his stomach. Perhaps, his body without the influence of his mind was recalling a time in his life when he was most content. Without a city to govern with the backdrop of retaliation, no religion or struggles for power, no toils to be heard, only the comforting, addictive experience of being alone with his Aethelswith.

It left him to wonder if their love, at the beginning, was what kept them together now or would it be their love at the end that would define their lives. That is what he chose to believe regardless of their current trials. Their strength to endure each other's impediments is what set them apart as if they had walked this same soil but in another life, side by side, in another time. Only the Gods held the wisdom to explain the truth but when it came to their destinies being tied, he knew in his bones he was right.

Studying her now, with her eyes down, the thin wisps of black in her drawing beginning to take shape, he watched the way her tongue slid out of her mouth, running back and forth over her lip. A sign of her most poised concentration as her hands created the image already complete in her imagination. She, herself, was a work of art. Perfectly carved. Each feature of her face exquisitely created. If he had sat down with Frigg herself and explained every detail he desired in the appearance of his one-day true love, Aethelswith was truly the result.

Something in the way her body held still, her mind utterly focussed on her drawing that made him want to throw his cup of ale onto the sketch of the vase of flowers. Spoil it all and draw her attention back to him. Attention he was so desperately craving. She was a cruel little thing, he thought, as his eyes roamed over her body.

If it had been his decision their union would have been blessed upon arriving home from England. So, on slow afternoons like the current one, they could be spending their time on more meaningful endeavors. The one he had on his mind, at the moment, involved her sitting on his face. Yes, that would be nice, he sighed with a groan, his eyes tracing the line of her silhouette, savouring how each time she leaned forward, he could spy down the front of her dress.

Do not start, he silently scolded himself, sidelining the thought, knowing the slip up the previous week when he succumbed to her tricks only undermined him. He may be mightier than most warriors, possess transcendent qualities, Gods-like even, but he was still a man with a very lonely prick with a beautiful queen with a beautiful cunt. GODS, he thought to himself, grumbling under his breath, adjusting his cock straining in his leathers. As his woman, he knew she understood the two urges that drove him, fucking and killing and the latter, these days, was providing him no thrill at all.

Clearing his throat, he watched her, waiting for her to glance up. Grunting through his nose when she didn't.

"If you were wondering... I am still suffering," he cleared his throat again, "touching you that once provided no relief."

"None?" she asked, her lips pressed together, her soft blue eyes staying fixed on the striations forming the feathers of a bird's wing.

Dropping his head to one side, his eyes bore into her, feeling impatient. She had a lot of nerve to answer with levity, following such a sincere admission. Looking over to the crackling fire, he snapped his gaze back, glaring in a way that would make a blind man uncomfortable. Sulking down further into his chair, he lowered his chin still observing her.

"This is worse than before.... Before...you know. I should know better but I am a loving, passionate person, after all, so it is your fault Aethelswith. You would think that I would be used to you disappointing me by now. But here we are."

Scoffing under her breath, she blinked up to him, her eyes providing not a shred of sympathy. What a feisty, fierce woman, he thought, fit inside a miniature, enticing body. Disregarding her unimpressed gaze, he wet his lips, shrugging his shoulders as if her attitude was to be expected.

"But I will say, Aethelswith, that if you carry on to much longer, clutching your hollow values as you do, I might have to start jerking off in front of one of those ambitious slaves."

"That would be Freydis."

Scrunching his nose in disgust, he twisted his lips up. "My high standards would not allow for that."

"Only royalty for the king?"

"Only you for the king," he clucked his tongue and winked.

Biting her lip between her teeth, she stared out from between her long, blonde lashes. He could see she was fighting the urge to laugh.

"If you were wondering...." Tipping her head, she shot him a coy smile, "You, Ivar Ragnarsson, are a shit."

"Nice language, Aethelswith!" he scolded with a grin. "You talk to your god with that mouth?"

Smirking to herself, he could tell that she was holding back some perverse, witty comment. Instead, she looked back to her drawing, her hand resuming the soft scores across the parchment.

Huffing at her lack of response, his smile faded and his eyes roamed the room before settling back on her, still, in his opinion, ignoring him and being rude.

"Aethelswith?"

Looking up, she lifted her brows.

"It hurts me that you drive me to say such awful things to you. I hope you realize this entire rift is your doing. Because of your God."

"Ivar, this is such a lovely quiet day. Can we please leave God out of the conversation?"

"No!" he exploded, slamming the palm of his hand down on the desk.

Startling, she dropped her charcoal, bringing her hand to her chest as if to calm her racing heart. Both of their eyes followed the cylinder of coal rolling toward the edge of the table before it tipped over and shattered on the floor.

Leaning forward, his cutting eyes flicked back to her. "Me or your god, Aethelswith? Choose."

"You are asking me a question there is no answer to," she replied in a steady voice, her eyes showing compassion.

Flopping back in his chair, he lifted one of his unbound legs, shifting it to stretch out below the table.

"Maybe I will rethink my hatred of Freydis."

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. "Ivar, perhaps try your own hand with my charcoals. Your mind is restless and you are trying to provoke me."

"I am proficient at anything I try, Aethelswith. I would not want to create a masterpiece on my first attempt and undermine your already flimsy confidence."

Scrunching her brow, she studied him again. "How selfless of you. Always putting my feelings ahead of your own."

Pushing her seat back, she stood, grabbing a cloth from the table and wiped the sooty smudges from her fingers.

"You are going out?" He straightened, unable to mask his disappointment.

"Yes, you know that I am."

"Hmm," he mumbled under his breath, watching her, waiting, hoping she would ask if it was still alright. She asked nothing.

"Aethelswith?"

"Yes, my love."

"Do I not provide for you?"

Glancing over at him, she looked both unimpressed and suspicious.

"Do I not see that you have everything you need?" his voice shot up to a higher pitch as it did when he was being his most dramatic. "Are you unhappy with the level of comfort we enjoy as King and... whatever you are?" he flipped his hand dismissively.

"Ivar, you are looking for a fight. Stop."

With a smug expression, he continued on adding even more flair to the tone of his voice. "I am simply wondering why you feel the need to look for work. Hmm? Really Aethelswith, you want to be a wet nurse? A milkmaid to the young?"

"I beg your pardon?" She narrowed her eyes, confused as to where he was leading.

"Your breasts, Aethelswith. They are on display! You are advertising for work by wearing that dress, no? Am, I wrong?" His eyebrows shot so high on his face, she nearly laughed.

"For the love of God," she groaned, rolling her eyes and snorting at his absurdity. "You are ridiculous, Ivar. They are not."

"Look at that neckline, Aethelswith! How hypocritical. Do you not agree? Christian," he sneered.

"Is that supposed to be an insult? Calling me a Christian?" she smiled. "As far as looking for work, my customers would be disappointed when their babies go hungry from my lack of milk. Would you care to try?"

"Try what?"

"Breastfeeding." She glanced down at her cleavage.

"Aethelswith!" he objected as if offended. "You are not funny."

"Actually, I am."

"No, you are obviously oblivious to the number of times in a day I try NOT to imagine your tits in my face."

Walking around the table to her dressing area, she turned her back to him and began fixing her hair, pinning up the loose strands around her face.

"Ivar, my beloved, you are going to brood yourself to death. I am going to Gussr and Nanna's for supper with Brana and Loni. If you recall," she turned, looking at him with stern eyes, "I invited you and you declined so... I will see you later tonight."

With one last flick at her hair to cover the thin red line where her stitches had been removed, she turned and walked past him toward the door.

"Send my regards to your real family," he jabbed sliding even further down into his chair. His eyes roamed the room looking for anything to distract her with and keep her from leaving.

"Thank you, I will," she replied in an unruffled voice. "In the meantime, I will leave you alone to think on this delightful exchange as I know there is no better punishment for you than to sit alone with your thoughts. I will see you this evening."

"Kiss!" he shouted up into the air.

Turning, she walked back to him, stopping behind his chair and rose onto her tippy toes to kiss his waiting lips, on his bent back face. "I love you," she whispered before turning and heading again toward the door.

"Then wear a fucking shall!" he barked over his shoulder as she opened and closed the door behind.

Typical defiance, he thought, shaking his head as he straightened and turned in his chair to listen. Once he detected the faint jostle of blades and heavy footsteps of his men following her down the corridor, he relaxed and turned in his seat, slumping again and resuming his miserable mood.

—

Sitting in silence, he stared at the small, etched bird with a long beak, sipping nectar from the blossom of a flower on the parchment left on the table. Not his favourite but the likeness was fair. Sighing out loud, he pulled his legs upright from under the desk, frustration, horniness but mostly rejection still festering within. How can she be so unsympathetic, he asked himself, adjusting in his chair, getting ready to stand.

It was only mid-afternoon and he was bored. A thought struck that it had been months since he last practiced archery up at the grounds. Always, instead, grabbing his ax or a blade, some weapon that felt violent. There was nothing quite like the feel of his bow in the palm of his hand, lining up the tip of the arrow and slowly exhaling to quiet his thoughts. Distract him from the almost painful need to rub one out. Scoffing, he looked up to the ceiling and nearly laughed. He loved her so much, he could not even accomplish that without the help of her small hands.

The door opened and closed behind him and he tilted his head toward her, waiting. When she said nothing he broke the silence. "Come to your senses and see that I was right about your dress?"

"It is me, my King," a small voice replied.

Pushing on the table, he slid his chair around to see Freydis standing a few paces away. Much closer than he expected, not having heard her cross the room.

"The queen is not here."

"Yes, I know," she smiled faintly but her nerves still showed.

"Then, why are you here?" he asked, his tone aggressive.

"Her grace has gone to visit her friend and his wife in town."

Ivar's nostrils flared with annoyance. "I did not ask you where she had gone. I know the whereabouts of my woman. Why are you here?"

"I just heard.."

"Heard what?" he cut her off.

Widening her eyes, she continued, almost bashfully, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"What!" Ivar glared at her, squinting his eyes. This girl was either too stupid to sense the danger she was in or too ambitious to care.

"I have been the companion to men that I have served in the past. I was wondering..."

Holding up his hand, he motioned for her to stop speaking. Dropping his chin, he looked at her. Truly looked at her.

"Step closer," he commanded.

Following his instruction, she took two steps forward, her arms hanging at her sides.

"Take off your apron," he ordered.

Stifling a pinched smile, she untied the back of her apron and dipped her head forward sliding the loop off her neck, dropping it to the floor beside.

Staring, his eyes roamed her plain beige dress that showed little flesh as she subtly inhaled filling her lungs with air. Her breasts below the thick fabric pushed forward, looking more pronounced.

"Lift her chin, he quipped. "I want to see your skin."

Lifting her chin, she let her lips fall open. Her eyes never leaving his scrutinizing stare.

"Do you like what you see, my king?"

"Do you know what I see?"

She smiled, straightening, not answering his question, looking rather pleased.

"I see where your pulse is on your throat. I see where the large vein that carries your blood runs down your neck. The very place I will cut into with my ax IF YOU EVER COME INTO THIS CHAMBRE WITHOUT MY WIFE AGAIN," he boomed. "Do not think, for a second, that because you were the whore to some lord that I will take interest. I will NEVER take interest in anyone but my queen," he spat viciously. Leaning forward, he pointed his figure, dropping the volume of his voice to a threatening whisper, "and remember that she is much kinder and more trusting than me. She is also intelligent, so she will tire of you soon despite you speaking her tongue. And, when she does, you will get what you deserve. Now," he shook his finger at her again, "If you EVER," he shouted again, "enter our bedroom while not in her company, I will cut that insipid smile right off your face before I cut off your fucking head. GET OUT!"

Shaking, with tears in her large eyes, she began to shuffle backward, "Y'Yes, my king," she stuttered. "My apologies, my king," she cried, before turning and rushing out of the room, forgetting her apron on the floor.

Wincing from the pain in his legs and his now worse state of mind, he pushed himself to stand and grabbed his crutch. Making his way over to where she had stood, he bent down and snatched the garment off the floor. Walking to the hearth he threw the apron into the fire, never taking his eyes off the flames until there was nothing left.

.

@youbloodymadgenius​​ @naaladareia​​ @whenimaunicorn​​ @lol-haha-joke​​ @ceridwenofwales​​  @jaydelesley4​​  @sweeneythots​​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​​ @fangirl-nonsense​​ @thiahilmarsdottir​​ @redama​​ @mdredwine​​ @didiintheblog​​ @yourpurplequeen​​ @justanothershelby​​ @londongal2810​​ @fields-and-fields-of-poppies​​ @readsalot73​​ @hexqueensupreme​​ @silly-bullshit-collector​​ @littlecarolina94​​ @oddsnendsfanfics​​  @youbelongeverywhere @blonddnamedhandz​ 

[arlome]

From your prompt list, I chose 1 from each category, you can decide if you want to use them all in 1 fic, or several 😜 Angst - 8 Fluff - 3 Random - 4 Kisses - 6 😎

Okay, so, because you’re being a greedy bitch (:P), I’m taking the mother of artistic licenses here and writing for three different ships! Here we go!

1. No’ 8, angst ( “Nobody’s seen you in days.”) + no’ 4, random (”If I die, I’m hunting you first”) - Deckerstar: 

- 1. The penthouse is silent and dark when she arrives, the eerie stillness causing her low heels to echo loudly across the marble floor. There are no dust sheets thrown over the furniture, so she takes this as a tentatively positive sign and ventures further into the luxurious apartment.

“Lucifer?” she calls out, craning her neck and bending a little forward to try and glimpse his silhouette on the bed, or leaning against the railing; he’s not standing at the bar or reclining in his chair, and she has a brief flash of panic rush through her entire system at the thought that he’s disappeared again, after all. 

A few extra steps bring her to the foot of his bedroom steps, and, at last, she spies his long form spread-eagled over his ridiculously expensive silk sheets. 

“Lucifer!” She climbs the three stairs hurridly and enters the open room. “Are you alright? Nobody’s seen you in days!”

The sight that greets her isn’t pretty, for a change. 

His face looks like it’s been used as a punching bag; his left eye is swollen, upper lip split and oozing blood. She gasps loudly at the bloody image he makes and drops on her knees at his side.

“What happened?” she demands to know, her fingers fluttering over the black-and-blue bruise on his forehead; he flinches and winces at the contact and she withdraws her hand, an apology ready on her lips.

“My brother came to visit, Detective,” he rasps, and she blanches.

“Amenadiel did this?” she asks, horrified - she knows the brother’s don’t always see eye to eye, but this is excessive! 

He shakes his head and winces again. Her heart clenches a little at the sight; he must be in considerable pain.

“My other brother,” he clarifies. “I have many, Detective. This little punch-up is courtesy of my brother Michael.”

“Would you like to report him to the police?” she asks softly. 

He laughs quietly, but there’s nothing soft or funny about the sound. The mirthless laugh is followed by charged silence.

“What can I do, Lucifer?” she asks gently; her knees begin to ache due to the unnatural position, but she pays them little heed. 

His hand on hers is warm and surprisingly strong.

“You’re here,” he says simply.

And it’s enough.

- 2. He presses his hand tightly against the gaping wound in her abdomen and curses all the powers in the universe and his Father, most of all. 

“Try not to move, darling,” he pleads with her, pulling her further into his lap. She winces at the movement and blanches in pain, and he starts cursing his own name inwardly.

“If I die,” she croaks, her slick fingers brushing over his in an attempt to distract him, “I’m haunting you first.”

Her attempts at feeble humour are completely lost on him.

“That’s not how it works, Detective,” he grouses, the fingers of his other hand digging into her shoulder, “and you’re not dying.”

She laughs softly and winces in pain.

“Sure feels that way.”

He curses again, this time aloud.

“Hold on, Chloe,” he pleads with her again. “Help’s on the way.”

2. No’ 3, fluff (”Have you seen my hoodie? noooo, You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”) - Carolight:

Dr Dwight Enys is a busy man. He’s a young, overworked ER doctor at Royal Cornwall Hospital, volunteers at a women’s shelter as an on-call physician and works for the Navy veterans program in his very little spare time. He barely has time for social life and leisure, as his rather neglected girlfriend never fails to remind him, but there is one practice he can never pass upon - he runs.

Every morning at five o’clock - even when he’s on call at hospital and should really be sleeping - he dons his suit of sporty armour and goes flying; a 10 km run for both body and soul. He greets all cats and dogs on his way, welcomes the morning ahead of the birds, and arrives back exhausted but happy, ready for the bracing day ahead.

This morning, however, is slightly different. For starters, it’s five-thirty and he’s yet to leave the house. Upheaving sofa cushions and banging wardrobe doors, he curses quietly, trying very hard not to wake Sleeping Beauty up. 

“Dwight?” 

Well, fuck; he didn’t mean to wake her.

“I’m sorry, love,” he calls from the bathroom, head buried in the wash bin. “Go back to sleep?”

“What is it? Why are you making so much noise?”

Her voice is sleepy and husky, and for one long second, all he wants to do is crawl back into bed with her.

“It’s just - have you seen my hoodie, Caroline? I can’t seem to find it...” 

There’s nothing but silence for a few seconds, and Dwight almost thinks that she’s gone back to sleep, but the sound of her stirring in bed convinces him of her alertness.

“Noooo?” comes the high pitched reply.

Dwight sighs and rises from his kneeling positing in front of the bin. He makes his way slowly to their bedroom, only to find Caroline cocooned rather comfortably in a fuzzy duvet.

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?” he asks, resigned and not a little fond. 

She smiles at him cheekily and throws aside the heavy fabric, flashing him a glimpse of his stolen hoodie.

“Come back to bed, Dr Enys,” she murmurs enticingly and he smiles.

After all, sometimes staying in bed is good for your health. 

Doctor’s orders.

3. No’ 6, kisses ( needing to kiss to hide from bad guys) - Phrack:

The thudding of heavy feet is getting louder and coming closer. There’s two of them, one pistol between them, against 10 thugs from the docks, all heavily armed.

“We’ll never outrun them, Miss Fisher,” Jack pants, almost doubled in half, bracing himself with one palm against the brick wall in the alley they’re currently hiding in. “Where are your red-raggers?” 

Phryne is leaning with her back against the same wall, chest heaving, and shakes her head. 

“Too far away; they’ll never make it in time.”

Shouts and bullets fly close enough to be almost upon them, and Jack straightens and takes a step closer, no doubt seeking to do the honourable thing and try to somehow shield her with his body.

Dear man, she thinks and yanks him forward by the lapels of his coat.

Jack looks at her in astonishment as she tugs both hats off their heads and throws them far out of sight.

“Phryne?”

She smiles almost wickedly at the poor man, as she pulls him downwards to her level.

“All part of the job, Detective Inspector,” she purrs and crushes her lips to his slightly open mouth.

It takes a few moments for him to realise what’s happening, but when he finally clues in, his reaction sends a jolt of pleasure down Phryne’s spine. His arms come to encircle her as he pulls her to him rather enthusiastically, his lips urgent and insatiable against her delighted mouth. He actually moans into the kiss, tasting her with relish, biting at her lower lip with great ardour, as if they are alone in the world and not being chased down by a small mob.

They’re making quite a scene, there’s no doubt about it; one of his hands migrates from her waist and is trailing up her thigh, one of his legs is pressed tightly against her centre. Phryne trembles and shakes in his arms with a force that has very little to do with adrenaline, and everything to do with their waltz. Slow and close indeed.

The thugs pass them by with little notice, except some half-hearted jeers and wolf-whistles, and continue on their goose-chase down the docks. Jack’s lips trail down Phryne’s throat and his fingers slip up her skirt.

“Jack!” she gasps in delight and arches into him. She always knew he was a very passionate man. “Jack!”

But the sound of his name pulls him from the lustful haze and into the present, and he starts a little at their position and takes a step backwards, flushed and a little horrified.

She reaches for him before he can get too far away from her.

“I’m sorry if you think I took a liberty, Inspector,” she throws at him, smiling mischievously, the sound of her voice breathy with need. Jack recognises her jab and smiles ruefully.

“Let’s call a spade a spade, Miss Fisher,” he replies, and Phryne’s is delighted at the gravely sound of his voice. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

Jack smiles and leans over just a smidge.

“And I’m not here to apologise.”

She pulls him back to her and pushes her fingers into his coifed hair.

“Come back to Wardlow with me, Jack,” she breathes in his ear and he shudders. “We can discuss the case over drinks in my private parlour.”

His strong hands are warm against her blouse and she flexes a little against his lovely fingers.

He smiles his crooked little smile, his eyes dancing.

“How can I refuse, Miss Fisher?”

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE. PHEW.

[avengerscompound]

The Grind House - Chapter 4

The Grind House: A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1729

Rating:  E

Square filled: @marvelfluffbingo - Slow Burn

Warnings:  None for this chapter, future smut most likely

Synopsis:  When Bucky Barnes stops to get coffee and warm up at your coffee shop, he had just expected that caffeine might lift his mood a little. He didn’t expect to fall head-over-heels for you over a game of chess.

Chapter Four

Bucky had gone home feeling a little melancholy after he’d won the game of chess with you.  He knew logically there was no reason not to go back in again, he just had this niggling little voice that said, the game is over, she was being nice.  Time to leave her alone.

You had invited him to the games night though.  So there was that.  He decided he’d go but he’d take people with him.  It was just proving a little harder to convince people to come along.

“You really think this is a good idea?  We all show up and it’s gonna just draw autograph hounds and the paps.”  Steve said.

The group sat around the coffee tables by the big bay windows, drinking and playing a game of poker for peanuts.  Clint was currently winning but Bucky was 100% sure that he’d been dealing from the bottom, and he couldn’t quite understand why no one had called him out on it yet.

“Not everyone has to go.  I just wanted to see if anyone wanted to go.”  He said.  “She asked me and said I can bring people, and she knows who my friends are.”

“She did huh?  And who’s she?”  Natasha said, she looked at her hand and then at the pile of nuts in the middle of the table.  “Call.”  She added pushing a small pile of peanuts into the pile.

“She’s just this woman at the coffee shop.  She’s nice.”  Bucky said.

There was a chorus of ‘oohs’ and Natasha nudged him.  “Well, I’ve gotta go now.  I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, I’ll go too.  Not like anyone ever asks me for an autograph.  I swear I got asked one time and they thought I was some dude name Iron Fist.”  Clint said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I dunno.  I’m not sure sitting around a coffee shop playing Dungeons and Dragons is really my thing.  I’m out.”  Tony said.  “All in.”  He added pushing a huge pile of peanuts into the pile.

Bruce, Steve, and Thor all folded.  “There’s gonna be Dungeons and Dragons?  I’ll come.”  Bruce said, a little glint of excitement in his eye.

“Oh Brucie bear, such a nerd.”  Tony teased.

“I’ll call,”  Clint said and threw his hand down.  Full house, Aces over kings.  Tony cursed and threw his cards down.  Everyone else who still had cards in shook their heads and Clint dragged all the peanuts on the table over to him.

“I’ll come and so will Steve,”  Sam said as Clint started gathering up the cards.

Steve put his hand on Clint’s.  “No more dealing for you.”  He said gathering up the deck.  “Yeah, I’ll go too.”

Bucky relaxed a little.  If Steve and Sam were there that was enough.  Having Nat and Clint and Bruce and any of the others were extra assurance.  He just hoped that they didn’t all embarrass him too much.

Friday night came around and Bucky wasn’t sure what he should wear.  Obviously, he didn’t want to dress up too much.  This wasn’t a suit and tie event.  He also didn’t want to go in wearing an old henley and a ballcap. He wanted to look nice, but not be conspicuous and he couldn’t quite figure out what that meant.

Eventually, he settled on jeans, a button up shirt not buttoned up all the way with a leather jacket on over the top.  He thought he looked okay and when no one made fun of him for it, he figured it must fit the medium ground he was going for.

In the end, the whole group, including Tony, went.  The coffee shop was crowded when they got there and it had been rearranged.  Card tables had been brought out and the larger, more comfortable chairs were gone.  They’d been replaced with fold up chairs.  You were flitting around the room when they got there, finding places where people could sit and among several other people putting plates of food on the table.  There were obviously people being paid to work the room.  The espresso machine was going flat out  Just a conveyor belt of people making espresso shots while other people turned them into drinks and then another went and delivered them to the tables.

You saw them when they came in and your whole face lit up.  “Bucky!”  You said coming over and kissing his cheek.  “You brought everyone.”

He chuckled.  “Yeah, do you have the room?”

“We’ll find it.  Might have to shut the doors though.  Might have reached our legal capacity.”   You said moving past them and putting the ‘Sorry, we’re full’ sign on the door and latching it.  “Here follow me, we’ll get a table with my friends and yours.”

You lead them to a table at the back and everyone took a seat and introductions were made.  Your two friends, Meagan and Belinda definitely had a case of starstruck.  Where you seemed completely at ease around everyone, like meeting assassins and billionaires and 100-year-old soldiers, was all part of your day to day normal, they kept blinking around at everyone and falling over their words.

When everyone had food and drinks and games were underway, you sat down at the table.  “We were going to play cards against humanity.  Are you okay with that?”   You asked.  “It’s pretty easy.”

“Oh, hell yes,”  Tony said rubbing his hands together and taking his glasses off.

“What are the rules?”  Steve asked, which Bucky was thankful for.  He didn’t want to look like the out of place one for a change.

You and your friends pulled out a long black box and the three of you began separating cards up and shuffling.  You put a stack of cards into the middle of the table as one of the others deal out some of the other cards.  “So,”  You said.  “These are the question cards.”  You flipped a card over.  It was black and written on the front was ‘I work my ass off all day for this family, and this is what I come home to? ______!?’  “What you need to do is answer the question the funniest way you can with the cards in your hand.  An answer will look like this.  You flipped a white card over with ‘Sperm whales.’ Written on it.  “You give your answer to the person who dealt and they chose who wins.  First to five wins.  Easy.”

Steve looked very unsure of himself while Clint and Tony both looked completely delighted.

The game was different, but it wasn’t long until even he and Steve had relaxed into it.  It was gross at times.  Tony seemed to like making it very gross.  He won the first hand ‘___, don’t try this at home.’ with ‘Firing toothpicks out of your penis like it was a machine gun.’

It made Steve groan and set the tone for the rest of the game.  Steve made Tony completely lose it when he saw Steve reply to the card ‘What’s on my back?’ with ‘Shots.  Each one grants +10 Charisma and -5 Heterosexuality.’  Nat’s hand ‘The Hills are Alive with the sound of ____.’ ‘Ripping into a man’s chest and pulling out his still beating heart’.  Made Clint howl with laughter.  And while it didn’t win the round, Nat appreciate Clint’s playing ‘Flunking out of Clown College.’ on the prompt ‘____.  That was hard.’  Telling him it was funny because it was true.

The biggest laugh of the night came when you played, ‘Genetically engineered super-soldiers.’ on ‘In an attempt to reach a wider audience, the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History has opened an interactive exhibit on ______.’

“Too late, already got one on this punk.”  Bucky had teased.

He had felt as relaxed as he had ever felt.  Your friends had ended up relaxing too and even with people coming over and asking for photos and autographs or just trying to talk and connect with the Avengers, they let their walls down.  He let his walls down and he got time to talk, even if he could feel Nat and Steve’s eyes on him anytime the two of you started to connect.

That’s what it felt like too.  Connection.  You and he were connecting.  He hadn’t felt that in so long.  There was some with the other Avengers, but he often guarded himself.  They’d seen him at his worst and he sometimes worried that that would taint their view of him forever.  You had not, and while he worried that there was gonna be something he could say that would make you reject him outright because of who he was and what he had done, he also felt more relaxed that right now it was an empty canvas and you hadn’t painted him as anything yet.

He almost felt confident enough to ask you on a date.  Almost.  One problem was that there was no way he was getting you alone to ask tonight.  It was too busy and you were just as in demand with people as Tony was.  There was also no way he would ask you out with the team watching.  Shit, he couldn’t even do it if it was just Steve.  He couldn’t handle the pity looks he got before you even had a chance to turn him down.  He knew that’s what would happen too.  They’d watch and they’d pity him because he’d have to be an idiot to think that a regular person would want anything to do with the fucked up mess that he was.  Or that even if you could be interested, that he thought it might actually last.

So he’d wait.  He did say goodbye to you though.  You’d asked if you’d see him soon and he’d felt something in his chest unwind.  He’d promised you he’d be back very soon.  He’d meant it too.  He was planning on coming back just as soon as he could when he knew it was quiet so he could ask you out properly.

“She was really nice, Buck.  You gonna ask her out?”  Sam asked as the team headed back to the tower.

Bucky shrugged.  He knew it was probably safe to tell Sam.  He just wasn’t sure if he could.

“You should, man,”  Sam pushed.  “She likes you.  It’s really obvious.  You deserve some happiness.”

Bucky nodded.  “Thanks, Sam.  I might.  I like her.”

It made Sam chuckle and pat his shoulder.  “That’s really no secret either, man.”

// NEXT

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Beautiful & Damned (5/7)

Female Reader x Young!Remus Lupin | Female Reader x Young!Sirius Black

Chapter 5: Marauders to the Rescue

A/N: I love Sirius Orion Black so goddamn much. I just re-read what I wrote (adding stuff here and there) and that’s when the thought hit me. I want one in my life, why can’t I have one?... 

Jokes aside, I appreciate your likes and your asks to be in this story’s taglist so much! Thank you for indulging in my story and supporting my humble vision of what Marauders are like.  I hope you enjoy!

New to the series? - Accio Chapter 1: The Golden Couple - Accio Chapter 2: No, Definitely - Accio Chapter 3: Misread - Accio Chapter 4: Bravado Falls

Fear was bringing out the worst in him, Remus knew as much. How did he even secure a place in the Gryffindor house, for Godric’s sake? Where was that much-vaunted bravery he was supposed to be the poster boy for? 

The entire situation had clearly blown out of proportion. Because of how afraid he was to face pity and rejection, he was losing the people that cared for him, loved him despite of his furry little problem. He acted like a hormonal teenager (which he still kind of was, he tried to justify himself) and like a hands-down, the most disgusting twisted little git last night in the Common Room. This needed to stop, before he lost everything he had under the sun. 

Easier said than done: pacing back and forth in his favorite spot in the library, Remus was getting ready to show some serious Gryffindor balls and come clean before his friends, hoping that they’d take him back in spite of all the shit he’d done and said. 

Working up the courage to go talk to you, however, was another ballgame entirely, and he was still terrified he was going to strike out.

“You are going to tread a hole through those floors if you keep this up,” a poignant comment made Remus stop in his tracks. Looking up, he saw Sirius leaning against one of the bookshelves, hands crossed on his chest. 

“Sirius…” he started, not really knowing what to say. He needed more time. “I’m…”

“Sorry?” Padfoot cut in pitilessly, “I, too, am sorry, Moony, but I’m afraid that this kind of apology simply won’t cut it for me”. 

“Okay, chill out, Pads”, it’s only now that Remus noticed Prongs standing on the other side of the corridor in between the bookshelves. He approached Sirius and slung an arm over his. shoulder. Potter’s smile reassured Remus, giving him a much needed glimmer of hope that not all was lost. “Let’s get to the bottom of this crappy situation we have at hand, shall we?”

Peter, barely noticeable two minutes ago behind James’ broad frame, shook his head energetically. 

“I really miss you, Remus,” he added in a small voice. “We all do,” he gave Sirius a chastising look, but Padfoot chose to ignore it. 

Remus held their gazes for a moment, and finally spoke:

“I was an idiot,” he stated simply. “And I am very, very sorry”. 

Both James and Peter were already smiling at him; Sirius, however, wasn’t as quick to forgive and forget. 

“I want to know what exactly you are sorry for, Moony,” the latter claimed, his stubbornness unwavering. “To make sure that we are all on the same page”. 

Moony sighed, backing down and leaning on one of the wide window sills of the library hall. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been distancing myself from you and avoiding you,” instinctively, Remus crossed his hands on his chest, sort of mirroring Sirius’ pose. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you what was wrong instead of letting my shit get the best of me. I acted like a twat”, Remus admitted, looking his friends straight in the eyes. “Won’t happen again.”

“Sounds good to me,” James was impatient to be able to talk to one of his best friends again like always. Still smiling, Potter opened his arms to welcome Remus back.

“Not so fast,” Moony could swear Padfoot sounded so much like his brother Regulus right now. Or someone worse. “Is that all? Nothing you want to add?”

Remus looked at his friend questioningly, trying to spot some kind of a hint in his stare. Sirius all but rolled his eyes at the young werewolf. 

“Not to sound like a broken record, but come on, Moony, don’t play stupid,” Padfoot’s expression remained serious. “You’re smarter than that”. 

Remus bit the inside of his cheek - the habit he seemed to have picked up not so long ago. 

“Fine!” he let out in exasperated fashion, not breaking the eye contact with Sirius. “It’s true. I’ve learned to hate you, Sirius. I wanted to chop your head off this entire time and give it to blasted Pixies to kick around! I also wanted to feed you to a dragon, or hex you, an innumerable amount of times might I add, especially when…”

“Especially when you saw me with Y/N”, Padfoot finished for him before throwing his head back and laughing heartily. “Moony, I can’t believe how daft you’ve been this entire time. Real slow on the uptake.”

Remus gave him a confused look, truly not comprehending the meaning behind his words. 

“We don’t care that you’re a werewolf, I thought we made it clear when we learned the truth,” Sirius continued. James nodded at his words, followed by Peter. “We love you like a brother, and we will always be here to call you on your bullshit, which is exactly what we are doing right now. You need to put your insecurities behind you. Your furry side is what makes you - you, and we love you as you are. I just want to make one more thing clear,” he narrowed his thunderous eyes at the werewolf. “I’d better not see Y/N ever again in all sorts of states because of what you thought she did, and why you thought she did it. You are my brother and best friend, Moony, but Y/N is my best girl. I care about her, because she’s as much a part of the family I’m building for myself as you are. She is one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and she deserves the world. So do you,” Sirius paused for a moment, as if thinking twice about what he was going to say next. “I’ll proper kick your ass if you fuck this up, Moony, I swear,” Padfoot clenched both of his hands into fists for a millisecond - enough time for the Marauders to notice. Sirius chomped down on his bottom lip, studying Moony scrupulously, hoping that the warning didn’t fall on deaf ears. 

Realization was slowly dawning on Remus. One emotion crept into his features after another, like objects on a slowly developing Polaroid picture. 

The fact that Padfoot loved you wasn’t what startled him - just like many other Hogwarts’ students, he heard the stories, exceedingly detailed, too. 90 percent of them were lies, of course, but Remus had seen the way Pads looked at you, the way he was with you. So no, he wasn’t at all astonished to learn that Sirius Black, Hogwarts’ most notorious bad boy and ladykiller and his best friend, held you very dear. 

What caught him completely off his balance, knocking the air out of his lungs, however, was the feeling that the fierceness with which Sirius loved you wasn’t quite reciprocal. When Remus looked at Sirius now he saw an aura of vulnerability, hiding behind the whole protective best friend facade. For what it was worth, Moony truly believed that Padfoot wanted more than forehead kisses, but you didn’t seem to oblige. 

Could it be?…

Sirius, with his vivid personality, all his swagger and all his bold handsomeness… You must have been insane not to want him back!…

This couldn’t be true. Magnificent wizards like Sirius and you were genetically programmed to meet, have beautiful babies and make the world a delightful place! He couldn’t dare to think otherwise, it was so obvious, common fucking sense!

Is it though? - small, smirking voice hemmed in his head. Remus forced himself to think back to the good old days, recalling your image in his mind. The way you’d smile at him as you’d always get out of your way to seat next to him and to steal his food. The way you’d always wonder if he was going to be at that particular Hogsmeade outing, this party, or that Quidditch game. The way you’d laugh at his stupid puns that weren’t even all that funny, brushing you delicate fingers through his messy mane of hair… The way you tried so hard to tell him something after you two kissed, begging for him to listen!

“Bloody boggart!”, Remus groaned, facepalming at himself. That’s right, he thought, Lupin, your whole circus of a life is a bloody facepalm sequence. “I really am a fucking coward!…I need to see her.”

Remus jumped up on his feet, a determined, wolfish kind of fire burning in his irises, licking his pupils. Two more seconds and he’d be out of the library, when James caught him by the wrist, grinning wide. 

“Wait up a sec, Moony,” he said, his bright eyes shimmering. “You know what happens now,” Potter’s smile slowly transformed into a smirk as he threw his head back and screamed at the top of his lungs: 

“Group hug!...”

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, crushing his tiny frame into Remus’ side so unexpectedly hard, he knocked all the air from his lungs. James chuckled before caging Remus in a bone-crushing embrace, making Moony groan in pain. Sirius was the last one to join the gathering, and being a huge pain the ass that he was, he made sure to squeeze as tight as he could. 

“Mr. Potter!…” Madame Pince appeared in the corridor like a cackling hen, her bonnet sliding on her eyes from running. “Mr. Black, Mr. Pettigrew!… Mr. Lupin!” a pang of honest-to-Merlin disappointment was ringing in her voice. “I feel like I need to remind you that this is a library, a sacred sanctum of knowledge and enlightenment! Silence and concentration are primordial as you enter these walls! Should you want to display public affection in such a brutish way, or any sort of boorish behaviour, I shall need to escort you four to the exit!”

“No need, Madame Pince”, Remus said politely, but impatiently. “We were about to leave anyway”, he added before exchanging a knowing glance with the Marauders and speeding out of the sacred sanctum as fast as his feet would take him. 

“Use protection!” was the last of boorish behaviour Remus had seen from James before shutting the door behind him with a deafening clutter.

“Mr. Potter!!!…”

To be continued...

My Beautiful Taglist (please, hit me up should you want to be tagged or untagged): @yuukiahim, @xapham, @spunkypatterns,  @jackie-houston, @justducky0423, @zakthedrak, @marauder–harder, @davros2004, @firefurr, @heyjess-marie, @kapolisradomthoughts

[ghostyprince]

#15 of the OTP prompts for shyan please 👀👀👀👀

sorry this took a bit of time, but I hope you like it!! send me more prompts, people, any fluffy/cool shit you’ve got, i miss the boys™ drawing stuff too i might do those too bc i’m gonna have a bit of a free time!

Their little war, it started with a question on their latest Post Mortem. Nobody seemed to know why this one particular comment on their Instagram page was between the queued up questions. It really had nothing to do with the episode, but Shane sometimes would answer things like that, so when he read it, eyebrows rising to hairline and looking at Ryan, he just shrugged, and told Shane he might as well answer it, if it’s really out of place or not funny enough they could cut it out later.

“Which one of you is better at flirting?” Shane reads. “I suppose I’m decent at it, I’m more of the ‘actions speak louder than words’ type of fellow,” he shrugs, dropping his phone on the table to take a sip of his coffee as he turned towards Ryan, waiting for him to answer.

“I’m pretty good at it if I say so myself.” Shane already knew they will cut this bit out because the smile Ryan gave him almost made him choke on his coffee. He has seen it before, on tape, sometimes it made the cut, sometimes it didn’t, but it never failed to make Shane’s stomach flip. It never failed to wake that little spark of hope that maybe he’s not the only one who wants more out of their friendship. To take it to the next level, if you will. It’s an entirely different experience seeing that smile in real life, so blunt and unashamed. Especially when Ryan is sitting closer than arm’s length of him and he could just reach out and- They left it at that, Ryan turning away and already reading up the next question that Shane’s certain he missed the half of already. It’s almost frustrating how oblivious Ryan is to what a mess he turned Shane into right next to him.Or so he thought until Ryan spared a glance at him again like he knew exactly what he was doing.  And Shane had to realize that absolutely, he did, that little fucker. They technically never answered the question in the Post Mortem, which Shane did bring up, shortly after the shoot, when it was just the two of them left.“We did technically answered it, I said I’m pretty good at it, you said it wasn’t your thing,” Ryan argued. “That pretty much means I’m better at flirting.”“I never said it wasn’t my thing! My words exactly were that I’m decent at it.”“Well, do you want to prove me wrong, big guy?” Ryan asks and Shane bristles at the shit eating grin on his face. The tone, the implication of that, though. That makes his insides twist in the best way possible.

Shane leaned forward, bracing one arm on the table, almost knocking over his forgotten coffee cup. He caught that small moment of Ryan’s confidence and bravado wavering, the way his breath hitched just a tiny bit, lips parting. Ryan probably expected him to just go for it, get out of this stupid phase of flirting and backtracking they found themselves in for months now. And it melted away all the doubts Shane had, but there is no way he’d give in without a fight.

“You’re on, Bergara.”

“Oh, you think you can beat me at my own game, big guy? I’d like to see you try.” It’s worth the wait, Shane thinks, if Ryan will grin at him like that every day, challenging, yet delighted, it’s worth the wait.

“Let me just ask you this. Is that a mirror in your pocket? Cause I can see myself in your pants!” He delivered the line with a big Cheshire smile, topping it with a wink. The absolute shock on Ryan’s face quickly turned into wheezy, full body laughter. The kind that Shane was always ridiculously proud of getting out of him.

“Pick up lines? Seriously, dude? That’s like the lamest form of flirting.” Ryan huffs out, between the last of his giggles.

“Yeah, seriously, dude. I’ll charm your socks off with my marvelous pickup lines, you’ll see.”

“I was kind of hoping you’d charm more off me than my socks.” Ryan hums, propping up his chin with his palm, and Shane sputters, completely caught off-guard, face heating up already. Fuck. “What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it, Madej?”

“Oh, fuck off. I can take it alright.” Shane scoffs, his annoyance quickly dissolves as he continues. “I must be in a museum, though. Because you’re truly are a work of art.” Ryan laughs again, and Shane’s thrilled by the sound, almost as much by the slight flush on Ryan’s cheeks. Got him.

“You can’t just insult me and compliment me in the same breath, you dumbass!”

“I can, and I will. What are you gonna do about it, little guy?” He does notice Ryan’s gaze flicking down to his lips, an indication that he indeed has a few ideas, but he’s not moving to do anything. Not yet.

“Did it hurt?” Ryan asks eventually, lips curling into a smile already, though Shane can tell he’s trying really hard to keep his face neutral.

“When I fell down from heaven?” Shane sighs, exasperated and rolling his eyes. He really can’t blame anyone else but himself. There is just a hint of amusement in the way he’s lifting an eyebrow at Ryan.

“No, when you crawled up from hell.” Ryan’s voice is strained from the laughter he tried to keep in and that eventually bubbled up his throat as soon as he finished the sentence.

Shane laughed with him because that’s all he knew how to do, that’s all he dared to do, looking at Ryan, as the warmth spilled out from his chest, spreading through his body. He was afraid he’d do something stupid and impulsive, like grab Ryan’s face and kiss him senseless.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Is what he hears when his laughter dies down. It’s a quiet statement, barely above a whisper. Judging by the startled look on Ryan’s face he was just as surprised as Shane felt. But that’s what made it so sincere. He’s pretty sure his heart missed a beat and fluttered in his chest.

That was about as much as Shane could take before cupping the back of Ryan’s head and pulling him into a kiss. Apparently, Ryan chose that moment to surge towards him too, causing their teeth to knock together. It was admittedly a horrible first kiss, that ended with Ryan’s face pressed into Shane’s neck, his shoulders shaking from laughter and Shane was pretty he tasted blood in his mouth. Despite all of that there isn’t a place he would rather be at.

“I won, just so you know.” Ryan breathes into his neck, content with the shiver that runs down Shane’s body.

“Oh please, I let you win.” Shane rolls his eyes.

“Like hell you did!” Ryan snorts, offended, but entirely too fond as he adds. “Shut the fuck up, Shane.”

And when Ryan finally emerged to look at him,  when Shane placed a hand on the side of his face, brushing a thumb along his cheek, they tried again.