#it's almost 7 and i've done nothing since i finished work...

[alackofghosts]

could they invent a time that doesn't slip through your fingers like sand

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

I've been working on this fic on and off since I saw season 7 and at last I got it finished!! The idea has been haunting me since I saw the finale... what if Callum actually completed the spell that trapped Aaravos in the coin?

“The second it’s done, he’ll kill me. You won’t have anywhere to go. No ‘vessel’ to control. You’ll be trapped again… forever. That’s the destiny I choose. The one I write for myself!”

Callum squeezed his eyes shut, and when they opened, they locked on Rayla. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, not wanting to miss an instant of seeing his face. Not wanting a single second where he couldn’t see the plea in her gaze.

“I would have stayed with you forever.” His voice was a whisper now, only for her. “I would have spent thousands of peaceful days with you, and it would have been the greatest joy I could ask for.” He drew a shuddering breath and managed a smile. “But this way, you’ll still get thousands of peaceful days. And that makes me happy enough. I love you, Rayla. Be brave.”

“Callum!”

Her scream was drowned out by the sound of his voice as it rose with the words to the spell. A purple beam poured from the staff in his hands, and as soon as it touched Aaravos, he began to dissolve. Wisps of green melted from his body, stretching his form, pulling him apart until he was nothing but smoke.

As the last of Aaravos was absorbed into the coin, there was another bust of light— but not from Callum. In a streak of energy in every color of the rainbow, Ezran appeared on Zym’s back, a blade in his hand.

That blade, Rayla thought wildly, it looks like—

“Ezran?”

Rayla’s eyes snapped to Callum just in time to see him fall to his knees, the black in his eyes receding— only to be replaced a second later by searing white.

“Runaan,” Callum gasped as the white faded again. “Do it— do it now—" He doubled over, convulsing in time to the flickers of light in his eyes.

Panic seized Rayla, forcing her half out of her saddle with absolutely no plan for what to do after she fell. Could she throw her own body in the path of Runaan’s arrow? Could she help Callum fight the possession back?

“Runaan, please,” Callum wheezed.

Runaan’s eyes flicked from Callum to Rayla before coming to rest on Ezran. A tear fell from his eye.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Callum, his voice breaking. “I can’t.” And then, in a tone so quiet Rayla almost wondered if she imagined it: “Not again.”

Callum let out a piercing yell that distorted halfway through, deepening into Aaravos’s cry of triumph as light beamed from his eyes once more. Callum— Aaravos— laughed with enough unbridled, malicious delight that it took him two tries to get to his feet and grab Viren’s staff.

“Oh, this is too good! I thought your soft heart was all your own, Rayla, but it turns out it’s a family trait!” All at once, the glee dropped from his face. “Your parents would have done well to raise you better. In this world, all a soft heart is good for is getting you killed.”

He moved the staff so quickly that Rayla didn’t realize he was drawing a rune until its blast was speeding towards her. She leapt on instinct, pain shooting up her ankles as her feet made contact with the ground. It was nothing compared to the ache in her chest when she turned around. Her mount hadn’t been as lucky as she was.

Runaan sent an arrow shooting at Aaravos’s shoulder, but he dodged neatly, drawing one of Stella’s portals in the air with his staff and leaping through it. It deposited him directly in front of Rayla, who barely dodged the stream of fire he conjured. Pressing a hand to her singed hair, she rolled to her feet and whirled around to face him.

“You’re stronger than him, Callum, I know you are!” she cried. “Fight him off! Please!”

Aaravos laughed, bolts of lightning splitting from his staff. “Foolish child. Your beloved was warned of the consequences of performing my magic again.” A fork of electricity struck Rayla’s leg, and she fell to the ground with a scream. “He! Is! Mine!”

“Callum, come back to me!” Rayla barely recognized her voice, the words high and fractured. “You said you’d do anything for me!”

Aaravos inclined his head. “Did he? How sweet. You know, I can’t feel any stirrings of his will inside me at all. What do you think— should we give him some proper motivation? Venus frigoris!”

Cold, burning cold, blinding, agonizing cold. Rayla’s spine convulsed, her body contorting as a scream ripped from her throat. Other screams reached her ears, Ezran, and Runaan, but they were so far away—

The relief came all at once, her muscles relaxing, the cold fleeing, and she collapsed into sobs.

“Hmmm… no. I still can’t feel any resistance from him. Do you believe me now, assassin?”

Last time, Callum had screamed for her, had run for her, had held her face while her blood froze and taken on Finnegrin with nothing but his bare hands to make it stop. Now he stood over her with his lips curled in amusement.

There was nothing left of Callum anymore. He would never have hurt her if he had any power to stop it.

Assassin. Aaravos had formed the word carefully, mockery infused into every syllable. He would never expect her to go through with it. She could take him by surprise. She could end this.

She would never be able to live with herself. But the world would live on.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, curling her hands around her blades behind her back.

“My heart for Xadia,” she whispered.

Aaravos inclined his head. “You’ll have to speak up if you want your final words to be remembered. Go on; I’m listening.”

Rayla flicked open her blades— and the tip of a sword appeared in Aaravos’s chest.

In Callum’s chest.

The white light in his eyes receded, leaving the beautiful green Rayla loved so well. They locked on hers for a second before fluttering closed as he dropped to the ground, sliding free of the sword to reveal Ezran with his hands on its hilt.

There was an eternity within a second in which everyone stood frozen. Rayla, paralyzed on the ground. Callum, dead at her feet. Ezran, a horror in his eyes that defied description or comprehension.

Then the blade fell from his hands, clattering against the stone, and the world woke up.

“I’m sorry.” The words were almost unintelligible through Ezran’s sobs as he fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry— I’m so— I’m sorry, I’m so—"

At last, Rayla managed a single breath, one that rattled in her broken chest, and managed a single, hoarse word. “Why?”

Ezran raised his ravaged face to hers. “Rayla, I’m sorry, I’m so—“

“Why didn’t you let me do it? I was going to do it. He’s your brother, and I’m—"

“You’re not a killer, Rayla.”

The words lacked the hysteria of his apologies. But Rayla had never imagined hearing that kind of absolute despair in the voice of a child.

“Neither are you!”

“No. But I am a king. And my first duty is to my people.” Finally, his voice broke again. “All but one.”

Rayla took his hot, soaked face in one hand and Callum’s stiff, cool hand in the other. She pulled both of them close, holding the three of them together one last time, even as they shattered.

…

“I’m going to kill you!” Callum roared.

He lunged for Aaravos, who was too stunned by his sudden movement to dodge his punch in time. Callum drove another fist into his jaw, and another, before Aaravos recovered enough to kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards. Callum drew a breath, then another, heedless of the pain, and forced himself back to his feet—

Only to find himself paralyzed, mid-lunge.

“That is enough, human.”

Callum screamed through his locked teeth as a head appeared in the stars above him— one whose nose was roughly the size of Callum’s whole body, and who glowed so brightly that it hurt to look at him.

What the…?

Frozen as he was, Callum was able to take in his surroundings for the first time. Both he and Aaravos stood on a transparent platform that floated in an endless night sky.

The head in front of him disappeared, and another appeared to his left. “You have accomplished many impossible feats,” she told him. “But even you cannot kill one who is already dead.”

Aaravos scoffed. “You can’t kill me. No one can. I will merely return to the stars, where I will bide my time for a paltry seven years.”

“No, Aaravos.” That came from a head on Callum’s right. “Had you been fatally wounded in a vessel, you would merely have returned to your true form. Had your true form been pierced by the fangs of an archdragon or the blade the humans call Nova, you would have returned to the stars. But you were mortally wounded by the Novablade in a mortal form. As such, you have forfeited your immortality.”

For the first time, Callum saw true fear in Aaravos’s eyes.

“No— no! That is not possible!”

“It does not matter whether or not you believe it,” the first head who had spoken told him. “You will know the truth of it soon enough.”

“But we are prepared to offer a compromise.” This came from the head to Callum’s left. “We will return you to the stars, if you return your key.”

“Key?”

Callum hadn’t realized he was able to move again until the word fell from his lips.

“Indeed, human. A key to all the magical secrets of the Startouch elves. It was given to Aaravos for safekeeping, long ago, but he has hidden it from us for millennia.”

“With good reason.” Aaravos locked eyes with Callum, his terror replaced by an equally unimaginable expression: pleading. “They call themselves dealers of cosmic justice, but they are little more than tyrants. They killed my daughter— a little girl with only the best of intentions— for giving magic to humans. The order they want to protect would leave your race powerless! If they have access to the knowledge they seek, the whole world will feel the consequences!”

“That is our offer, Aaravos,” the first head said, his voice emotionless. “Give us the key and return to the stars. Or keep it, and be erased along with it.”

“He doesn’t have it. As I do.”

As one, the full attention of the heads turned to Callum. It was… disconcerting.

Callum pulled the Key of Aaravos from his belt and held it out to them.

“That does not belong with you,” a head that had not yet spoken said sharply. “Return it to us, human.”

“I want the same deal you offered to Aaravos. I’ll give it to you if you return me to life.”

From beside Callum, Aaravos actually growled. “Are you really so selfish, mage? Would you allow these despots to strip you of everything just to buy yourself a few more years?”

“Not for me. For Rayla.” Callum closed her eyes, but her devastated face remained. Her screams still rang in his ears. “She’s lost enough. I won’t let her lose me too. I won’t let her suffer any more.”

“You fool!”

Callum opened his eyes again, looking past Aaravos and up to the heads once more. “Do we have a deal?”

They were silent, seeming to have some kind of mental debate. Then the first head spoke.

“We accept your terms. Give us the key, and we will return you to life.”

“But do not think you can escape cosmic justice,” said the head on his right. “You have not bought yourself a life. Merely extra time.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Callum tried to sound respectful, contrite. Inside, he burned. Whatever time he’d borrowed would be enough— he’d make it so. After all, as one of the judges herself had said, he’d done many impossible things. What was one more?

He released the key, and it floated up to the head above him, where it disappeared into light.

“It is done,” the head announced. “You will be returned to your mortal form. And you—” he turned to Aaravos— “will be reunited with your daughter at last.”

Aaravos rose into the air as if yanked by invisible strings, writing all the while. “You have no idea what you’ve done!” he screamed at Callum. “No idea what I’ve sacrificed to save you from this future! You have doomed—“

But he didn’t get to finish before he burst into light.

When the searing glow receded, the stars and the heads and Aaravos were all gone. In their place was the most beautiful face Callum had ever laid eyes on, even as it was swollen and tearstained in a way that drove spikes of pain through his chest.

“Rayla,” he rasped.

The word was almost inaudible by the time he pushed it past the emotion choking his throat, but her eyes still snapped to his.

“Callum!” she shrieked, throwing herself at him with enough force to send him sprawling back against the ground. He could only manage a wheeze as he hugged her back, and she pulled away quickly.

“Your wound— did I make it worse? How are you even— you got stabbed— you were dead—"

“Yeah. I know. Luckily, even the cosmic judges couldn’t resist my charms.”

Ezran appeared beside Rayla, his eyes as red as his tunic. “You talked them into letting you come back?”

“More or less.” Callum’s fingers brushed the pouch in his belt where he had kept the Key of Aaravos, now decidedly empty. “Turns out I still had a bargaining chip they wanted.”

“What…?” Rayla started, but Callum shook his head.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Callum…” Twin tears squeezed their way out of Ezran’s swollen eyes. “I’m sorry— I’m so sorry—"

“Hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Callum reached out, wiping the tears from his brother’s cheeks. “You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you.”

Ezran managed a wet laugh. “That’s so messed up.”

“Yeah, well, so are we.” Callum reached for Rayla’s hand with his free one, and she entwined her fingers with his. “But you know what else we are? Still here. We’re here, and Aaravos isn’t.”

“We saw a shooting star,” Rayla rasped. “Janai said it crashed in the Midnight Desert. Does that mean… is Aaravos…”

“Aaravos isn’t a threat anymore. Not now, not ever. Apparently, the Novablade was enough to kill him if he was bound to a mortal form.” Callum glanced at Ezran. “You see what I mean? You did it!”

Ezran wiped his eyes with shaking hands and managed a small laugh. “We did it. The three of us.”

“Oh, not this again. I know I spent part of our first trip as an egg, but I still counted. And who do you think flew Ezran here in time to kill Callum? The four of us made a difference. Actually, the six of us, since Bait and Stella deserve just as much credit—"

Callum leapt into Rayla’s lap and Ezran ducked behind them, all three of them whirling to face Zym. He stared back at them, perfectly straight-faced.

“Zym,” Ezran said slowly, “did you just…”

“Talk? Yeah. I figured it out a while ago, but I was just… waiting for the right moment. Was that not it?”

“Since you were bragging about how you helped kill me, I’m going to go with no,” Callum said drily.

“Come on, Callum.” Rayla dropped a kiss on his head, then beamed at Zym. “There’s no time like the present.”

“All right, all right.” Callum held out an arm to Zym. “Come here, you.”

Somewhere among the stars was an all-powerful, immortal race of elves with the knowledge they needed to force their will upon all of humanity. Somewhere in the future was a day when Callum would face the end of the time he’d borrowed. Somewhere beyond this tower were cities that needed to rebuilt, bodies that needed to be buried, alliances that needed to be made.

But there was no time like the present. And right here, right now, was the last of the dragonguard and the king of Katolis, the prince of the dragons and the first human primal mage, all clustered together in a knot of limbs and tears and laughter, holding each other together with their love.

And it was all they needed to make a difference, come what may.

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Angel p.2

Summary: You and Charlie go on your first date.

A/N: I need more Charlie Swan fics, so I've resorted to writing them.

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v sex,

Word Count: 3.1k

Throughout the day you were taking time to get ready for your and Charlie’s date later. Thankfully you had the day off so you took full advantage of sleeping in till noon. Picking your outfit wasn’t hard, a mini floral sundress with pink accents paired with straw platforms. 

Next up on your agenda was getting the perfect make-up look, precisely one that looked natural. A tutorial on puppy-dog eyeliner catches your eye. Upon completing both eyes you try it with a red lip stain, solidifying your look for the evening. You head into the bathroom to scrub it all off before fixing yourself a snack.

Your parents were going out for their semi-regular date night so you wouldn’t have to explain your absence to them. The clock nears 7:00 and you know Charlie is arriving around 8:30, you gather your step-by-step routine and start the process with a hot shower. Your counter is an array of skincare and makeup products, and your styled hair is packed away in your shower cap. 

The water helps relax you and your thoughts about the date. You take your time exfoliating your entire body before shaving. You decide to leave your vagina alone hoping that’ll keep you from giving it up. Stepping out the the shower you wipe the mirror and check your phone seeing two texts from Charlie.

Getting off work now. - Charlie 7:40

Getting ready now. -Charlie 7:46

Looking at the messages makes you laugh, his personality shines through the texts. Since he was giving you updates it only seems fair you return the favor. You raced to your room to find a tank top and some lounge shorts, but not before lotion and baby oil. You place yourself in front of the mirror in your room, making sure the sliver of skin below your tank is showing. Turning your phone around you smile up at your camera waiting for the click.

Halfway done I promise. -You 7:53 

It took you a little longer than you would’ve liked but the picture turned out great. You head back into your bathroom to make up for lost time. Carefully you begin concealing your under-eyes, the finished product gives you the natural glow you were looking for. The puppy-dog eyeliner from earlier is easy to put back on, and it suits your eyes more. The last two steps are your brows and lips but you decide to put on your dress first.

You check your phone and see 3 texts from Charlie along with the time. 8:20. The dress you picked out was a floral print with pink accents, and the neckline scrunches around your breast allowing you to forgo a bra. The sleeves went off your shoulder and stopped at your wrists, you decided it was best to also take a cardigan in case. The fit was close to your body but not skin-tight, allowing for a flowy bottom. Walking back to your bathroom, you finish your lip with a deep burgundy stain and brush your eyebrows with hairspray. You finally check your text messages, pleasantly surprised. 

You look beautiful. -Charlie 7:53

On my way to you. - Charlie 8:10

The third and final message is an awkward photo of Charlie standing in what you guess is his foyer. You are almost sure that Bella was the poor soul taking the photo, you wonder how that conversation went. But you check what time he left again and realize you might have miscalculated your prep time. Your window faces the street so you check for his car and see nothing and there aren’t any new messages. Quickly you grab your perfume to spritz all over. Your platform sandals are easy to slip on before you make your way downstairs. 

The mirror by the front door of your house is occupied by you checking for last-minute touch-ups. The doorbell sounds and you almost sprint to the door with your purse in hand before turning the knob. Charlie stands in front of you with a beautiful bouquet made of violets and daffodils. You weren’t expecting him to get you flowers, but you step back and motion for him to come inside. After you close the door behind him he hands you the flowers.

“Thank you, Charlie. They’re gorgeous.” You stand on your toes to peck his cheek. 

“Of course Angel.” Charlie smiles down at you with flushed cheeks, he is nervous about if the flowers would be too much.

“Let me just put these in some water and put them in my room.” You run quickly to the kitchen to find a vase to place them in. In your room, you decide to place the flowers next to your bed. You meet Charlie at the door and you take the time to look at what he put on. Gone is his usual uniform of flannel and jeans, instead, he stands before you in a grey knit sweater with dark jeans. It even looks like he trimmed up his mustache.

“You clean up nice Chief Swan.” You glide your hand up his arm and along his bicep caressing it. Charlie feels his heart speed up at your antics, but he rolls his eyes to cover his flushed cheeks.

“Not as nice as you,” His voice is low as he reaches out to play with the hem of your dress. “You ready to go?”

You nod your head and he opens the door for you to step onto the patio. He waits as you lock the front door, When you turn around with a big smile his stomach jolts. As usual he opens the door and waits for you to settle before closing it. When he enters from his side he smells your perfume, and it gives him a reason to be extra close to you later. 

The drive to Port Angeles was smooth, you opted to play the radio rather than start a meaningless conversation. Although Charlie wasn’t a fan of listening to music he didn’t want to subject you to silence. The view kept you mostly occupied, you forgot how pretty the landscape here was. 

Charlie pulls the car into the parking lot of the Italian spot, at least for where you guys live. Surprisingly he places a hand on your thigh telling you not to move before he gets out to open your door. Excitement beats through your body when Charlie rounds the car, the date is already off to a great start. His hand stretches out towards you to take when he gets to your door and you gladly take it. You take the opportunity given and you keep your hand in his on the way inside. 

The hostess greets the both of you with a smile before asking how many. 

“I made a reservation under Swan for two.” Although it’s a small feat the fact that he made reservations in the first place makes you smile. As the hostess checks the books you bring your other arm to his bicep. Charlie sneaks a peek down at you only to see you look at him like he hung the star and moon. He’s worried you can hear his heart thundering. 

“Yes, Mr. & Mrs. Swan please follow me.” She grabs two menus before walking to the right. As you walk through the restaurant you’re happy you see no one from town. Not that you’d be embarrassed by Charlie, but the gossip was already bad enough when you two were having friendly lunches. The booth you’re led to is the perfect opportunity to find excuses to rub against Charlie. 

“Your server should be with you shortly.” You both thank the hostess before looking through the menu. You’re having trouble deciding between what you usually get or if you want to try something new. 

“You see anything you like? You do like Italian food right?” Charlie’s nervous line of questioning makes you giggle. 

“I love Italian.” You seal your admission with a kiss.

“Sorry I just don’t wanna mess anything up, it’s been a while.” Charlie scratches the back of his neck while looking away from you. 

“I can’t see why, you’re a catch. I mean you got me flowers and made reservations, even though you didn’t need them. It shows you are very thoughtful.” You rattle off wanting him to know how much you appreciate his little gestures. 

Charlie has no choice but to accept your compliments, and he’s glad you think so highly of him. Even if he can’t quite see it. 

“Have you thought about which wine we should go with?” Charlie leans over to where you’re looking at the drink menu.

“I thought you would order a Budweiser.” You can’t help but poke fun at him.

“Ha ha I’ll have you know I can be a man of fine dining, sometimes I get my steak medium well.” The laughter that falls from your lips has his heart skipping. 

“Well, then I think a merlot would be good.” You hear no objections from Charlie and go back to your meal options.

The dim lighting in the restaurant makes you feel at home, and Charlie doesn’t make you nervous. He makes you giddy and excited but you’re comfortable around him, despite your attraction.

“Good Evening, I’m Evan,” A teenage boy approaches your table with a smile and a basket of breadsticks. “I’ll be your server tonight. Are there any drinks I can get started for ya?”

“Yes, could we get a bottle of Merlot to start?” Charlie answers the waiter while you grab a breadstick. 

“Of course do you need more time for appetizers?” The server readies himself for Charlie’s answer.

“Could we get a house salad please, I think we still need time for the main course thank you.” You’ve successfully finished your breadstick and reached for another, but Charlie reaches for the same one. He playfully slaps your hand away to collect his first one. Your jaw drops at his audacity.

“So that’s how it is huh?” You playfully glare at him.

“You got the first one didn’t you?” He gripes before taking his first bite.

“What happened to ladies first? Chivalry?” After your rant, he places a breadstick onto your plate.

Throughout the dinner, you and Charlie’s conversation continued to be effortless. You ended up ordering a shrimp scampi and Charlie chose a lasagna. The bottle of wine was one glass away from being finished, and you could feel its effects coursing through you. Although you ate most of your food and had a sliver of Charlie’s, you still had some leftovers. Charlie took it upon himself to help you finish.

You found yourself playing with Charlie’s hand, tracing the prominent veins. The sight of him hounding your food is surprisingly something you’ve come to enjoy watching. 

“Did you want dessert?” Though Charlie’s question would get a ‘yes’ any other night, you had other ideas. 

“No,” You look him in the eye and lower your voice. “But I really don’t want our date to end yet.”

“Then what do you suggest we do Angel?” Charlie, oblivious as ever asks you.

“I think we should get the check and head to the car, I think I saw an ice cream parlor.”

Charlie picks up the check and you don’t even pretend to reach for it, he’d probably smack your hand for real. On the way out you lean into Charlie as he has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. When you get to the car you see Charlie reach for your door but you stop him. 

“What's wrong?” Charlie immediately questions when you grab his hand. 

“Nothing,” You try to find the words to express what you want, so you resort to physical touch. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck. “It’s just you look so good tonight, and I wanted to…” Your eyes trail to the backseat and back to him. 

“Angel, that’s illegal.” His words were chastising you but you knew with a little convincing he’d cave. 

“And who exactly is gonna arrest you Chief Swan?” After your declaration, you trail kisses up & down his neck. Charlie's knees almost buck from the feeling of your soft lips all over his neck. When you pull back he follows you to the back door of the cruiser. 

“Alright but absolutely no sex.” His finger pointing at you tells you he means business. He pulls out his key to unlock the back door.

“Of course Chief Swan.” You give him a peck before climbing in the backseat, Charlie opts to wait. He checks the area to make sure there’s no one to potentially catch you two.

When Charlie meets you in the back you waste no time straddling his lap. His hands are glued to your sides, while his head leans against the headrest. Your hands feel all over his chest like they’ve been itching to do all night. Charlie initiates the kiss this time, his lips languidly moving with yours. Your hips begin to move on their own, desperately rubbing against the growing bulge in Charlie’s pants. 

The feeling of Charlie’s tongue licking at your lips had you moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made and helped you rub yourself on him. He truly can’t believe he’s dry-humping in the backseat as if he was a horny teenager again. Charlie’s hands slip under your dress so he can cup your ass, skin to skin. He knows he said no sex but the way you grind on him has him seeing stars. 

One of Charlie’s hands slides to the front of your panties, rubbing you through the fabric. You break the kiss to throw your head back in bliss. Charlie takes the opportunity to bring his mouth to your neck, licking and sucking until he finds your sweet spot. He knows he’s got it when your hips stutter their steady motion against his crotch. 

“That feel good baby?” Charlie being a dirty talker was not on your bingo card. “You gotta tell me or I’ll stop.” He gently nips at your neck, prodding you.

“Yes,” You breathlessly let out. “Please don’t stop, don’t stop.” Charlie takes great satisfaction in you begging him. 

“You gonna let me slide in that pretty pussy?” His words awaken the memory of you not shaving your vagina before, in hopes of staying out of this situation. 

“I didn’t shave or prep for this actually,” You slightly pull away thinking he’ll want to stop. 

“That’s even better Angel,” His response has your eyes widening before he finishes. “I’m a grown man and I prefer my women to look that way too.” 

After his revelation, you go straight for his belt and zipper. You slowly unzip his jeans before reaching in to pull out his cock. You’re pleasantly surprised to find him fully hard and leaking. You swipe the pre-cum off his tip with your thumb to taste, the look he gives you has your pussy throbbing. He can’t contain his groans when you slide him back and forth between your wet pussy lips. Your poor panties have stretched to the limit. 

Once you’re satisfied with him being putty in your hands you line up his cock to your entrance. You look him in the eyes as you slide down on him, both of you gasping as you take him. Rocking your hips on him feels so much better, the stretch he gives you makes your eyes roll back in bliss. Your hands grip his shoulders to maintain your balance, while he circles back to your clit.

Charlie has you wildly bucking against him when he finds your spot again. Your walls clench harder with every circle he makes. His other hand snakes up to the back of your neck, cradling it. The mesmerizing sight of your tits bouncing as you rode him made his balls clench. Charlie felt your pussy leaking all over his lap, he loves it. From this point on he knows he’s not gonna be able to get enough of you. 

“That’s it baby,” His words bring you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s my good girl huh?”

“Yes yes, I’m your good girl.” You could not care less how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was the way Charlie’s cock rubbed against your walls and his thumb expertly moved in circles over your clit. The only thing on your mind was chasing your orgasm. The squelching and pants filling the car only spur you on in your quest. 

Almost as if he could sense it Charlie smashes his mouth against yours right before the chord in your belly snaps. Your body is no longer yours, instead moving only on primal urges. The flips in your stomach die down slowly, like a beautiful decrescendo. He soaks in all the noises you make, both for his pleasure and to make sure you don’t get caught. The feeling of you cumming around him has him fucking up into you while you ride your high. 

You feel the tell-tale twitch of his cock before you feel him release inside you, painting your walls with his cum. The heavy breathing coming from you two signals you won’t move for a while. His neck becomes a place of solace for you, his heart rate steadily coming down from your activities. Hands rub lovingly around your back, almost putting you to sleep. 

“You know I wouldn’t mind ice cream.” You mumble into his neck.

“Whatever you want Angel.” Charlie’s low timbre soothes you.

Charlie makes the first move to get up, he tucks himself back in and gently moves you to his side before getting out. He opens the front door and comes back with some wet wipes he had in the glove compartment. Once you’re all cleaned up he works to coax you out of the back and into the front. You are knocked out as soon as he closes the door behind you.

Throughout the drive home, Charlie steals glances at you thinking he must be in some kind of dream. You are something else. Never in his adult years had he done something so reckless, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

When you wake Charlie is just turning off the car, you reach out to run your finger through his hair. He leans into your touch before presenting you with a Dairy Queen blizzard.

“Cheif Swan, you are so thoughtful.” You can’t help but pinch his cheek before you kiss him. He simply hums at you in return, but the look in his eyes tells you all you need to know. 

“C’mon let’s get you inside.” Ever the gentleman Charlie walks you to the door, leaning against the brick. 

“When’s our second date? And third?” The laugh that escapes Charlie causes you to follow suit.

“How about next Friday? After work we could go see a movie.” He watches as you smile brightly at him, leaning down to plant one last kiss on you. “Night Angel.”

“Goodnight Charlie.” He waits for you to go inside and doesn’t head back to the car until he hears the lock click into place. 

[auraisereigh]

"Hello to you too, Star"

Chapter 7, Part I

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: On a free day Star decides to clear her mind. wc: 4.9k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Actually quite peaceful. Star's magic alert. Star's logic? Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

A/N: I loved writing this one so much that i had to divide it into two parts because i wrote so much for this chapter.

Star's masterlist main masterlist

I wake up completely sore and worn out. Seems like I had a whole war while I slept, why not?

It's been a month since the first Assembly meeting and we've fallen in a good routine. We've been having meetings almost daily, we've started rebuilding and we have one person working in the forge now, Mainly making daggers. Better than nothing.

Today was one of those rare days we didn't have a meeting planned. We covered what was needed yesterday. Viscount Tecarus has responded to my letter, though I have yet to read it as it arrived late last night.

If there's one thing that changed the most this month it's the mess in my room, I've left all the paperwork in my dad's office but that still leaves all the empty plates, discarded clothes, notebooks and pretty much anything else you can think of.

Problems for later.

Once I get dressed and tidy up just a little bit, I make my way to dad's office.

Lord. Another meal, another note. Brennan has been leaving me meals and notes all month, not that I've been bothered to check on him, I haven't seen him at all and I wanna keep it that way. It still stings, that I so easily trusted someone just because of a mutual friend.

Naolin. I finished his grave a week ago. It took a while to find the right flowers but with my magic they shouldn't wither.

It's a simple meal, some bread, cheese and ham, a glass of orange juice all neatly placed on the corner of my desk, the note also neatly placed next to it. Those notes get longer the longer he keeps going with this.

"Heard you have a free day. Take some time to rest, you've been busy. Maybe you could read? Naolin used to tell me that you love folklore. And tonight you could go star gazing. Maybe you'll see Naolin."

B.s

I sigh and put the note down. I open the drawer of the desk and take out the bottle of medicine the healers gave me after I got a reaction to some kind of food. I swallow it with the orange juice.

Felix appears in the doorway. He leans against the doorframe and looks at me. He's taken it upon himself to look after me even though I insisted I didn't need that.

I hold up the note and raise a brow. I haven't told anyone about the notes and meals. It always happened when I was too tired. "Something I should know?" My voice still holds that hoarsness that comes with just waking up.

"Brennan has been released out of confinement. He's been questioned a few times and we don't see the harm, so we're giving him the benefit of the doubt." I raise a brow. What questions did they ask him? "Why wasn't I called in for the questioning?" I argue.

"You're too emotionally involved with him." He says calmly. "Oh really? I had every right to. This is my house, his mother killed my fathe-" he cuts me off. "And that's why we didn't come to you for the questioning. Trust me, I did the questioning too. He's harmless. He just wants to stay out of his mother's sight, he doesn't agree with what she's done and for all she knows her son is dead."

"It's her thinking that her son is dead that resulted in my city being burned down." I say back. "An action he did not have control over." He argues back, his voice saying that he will have the last word and that that was that last word.

He sighs deeply as he walks closer and stops next to me. He takes the note and reads it. "He's mourning the same person as you. He's a caring man. Just try to trust him, he's not his mother and you shouldn't judge him for his mother, he doesn't do that with you either. Nobody chooses their parents." He looks at me as if I'm the same. I frown at him but before I can say anything he talks. "You have a day off. Eat, rest, do something you enjoy, maybe get out of this fortress for a while. You've been cooked up in here for more than a month." He says gently before leaving me alone in my dad's office.

☆

I have to admit that meal was good, despite the person who brought it. I had been keeping all of the notes in a envelope that I shoved in the back of drawer. I'm still trying to figure out why I'm doing that.

I took Felix's advice to get out of the house. I glady took my bow with me outside to have some peace of mind. The chances of me actually killing something are pretty much zero but it's the idea that I have it say a certain someone would come looking for me again. I still hadn't figured out who that was but I also haven't told anyone, not even Brennan. But I have heard that voice before, you don't forget such a ruthless voice.

There's enough forest in Aretia for me to avoid the area where Brennan and I spend two weeks together.

Instead I take the route alongside the river that leads to a beautiful lake. There are still a lot of animals out, they dare more now that the woods don't get used as much. Despite all the chances I get I don't shoot or even try to shoot at an animal. There's no point, I've done it enough for a While. Truth is that I only took the bow with me to feel safe.

The walk to the lake is quiet, the kind of quiet I've needed for a while now. Just the sound of the water streaming pass by helps sooth all the emotions I've been feeling for a while now.

By midday I arrive by the lake. It's still as beautiful as the last time I saw it. The water is a deep blue that streams to the river. Here and there are rocks, and at the back of the lake is a giant mountain that creates a waterfall down the mountain. And all of it is pretty much covered up by forest so it gives that hidden, magical feeling. Not many people know this place exists and as there's a mountain most just assume it ends there.

I sit down by one of the larger rocks and lean against it. It's been a month since I've been able to just sit down and relax, to not have to think about anything. Where it's just me and my thoughts.

I have so many memories here, most with Naolin, some with my family. This lake holds so many emotional strings for me. And for once it doesn't feel necessarily bad, it feels.... Freeing. No one is here to watch me, I can just let go.

I watch as my magic swirls over the lake in red veins. Almost like they're part of the water, just in a different color.

I've always been both fascinated and scared of it. No one knows where my magic came from. According to dad it's not inherited from his side of the family. I've spent hours in the library to find something but I came up with nothing. As far as I know it's limitless, almost anything that I can think about is possible with it, it's just a matter of control.

I gaze over the lake, over the red swirls that trail over water and rock.

My mind Wanders to a memory.

☆

Its Almost sunset now. The sun has almost dipped behind the mountain creating a beautiful reflection from the mountain to the lake. I've been here for hours now. Practicing my magic by an old book that my dad had been given by Viscount Tecarus of Cordyn.

I hear a crunch behind me and my head snaps up but I calm down once I see the familiar face with the darkest brown eyes I've ever seen. A smile finds it way up my face as I stand up and run towards him. I jump in his arms and he catches me like it's no big deal. My arms wrap around his neck and he holds me tight.

"Hello to you too, Star." Naolin's familiar voice speaks up. It's been months since I've seen him. Now that he is officially a lieutenant and stationed on an outpost he barely has time to ask for leave.

"I didn't know you would be coming." I whisper. "Surprise." He says softly. He puts me down and his hands go to my cheeks. "I'm gone a few months and you grow up." He jokes which gets a small laugh out of me. He looks over to where I had been sitting. "Ah we're being obsessive again." He states, he eyes the old book.

His hand takes mine as we walk to my sitting spot. We sit down and he takes the book, going through what I've marked.

I stare at him. It's been months and he's here now.

"Anything useful?" He asks as he closes the book. Guess we're not practicing anymore. "Nothing that I didn't know yet." I respond while I stare at him.

His dark brown eyes, I swear they're so dark there almost black but you can see the brown in them. His dark waves of hair, messy from flight.

"You're doing that again." He laughs and I snap out of my haze. My brows furrow and confusion takes over my face. "What?" I ask confused. He laughs and flicks my nose. ow. "That face." He motions to mine with his hand. "That look on your face When I'm just back. Like I'm a ghost that you can suddenly see." He jokes and I can't help but crack a smile. "You can't blame me. I never see you anymore. Might as well be a ghost." I joke back but I know he knows I missed him. The letters I send to him say enough.

His smile goes from the joking one to the caring one. "Come here." He says softly, opening his arm to come closer. I don't hesitate, I've craved his touch for so long. To see my best friend for so long, when I didn't even know if I'd see him. He's on the front lines, for the same he dies.

His arms wrap around me and his head leans on mine. We stay like that for a long time, staring at the lake. Here and there we make a small conversation but I'm just happy that he's here.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog @bangtanxberm

[voxofthevoid]

The last dose of fucked-up ladies for the month with Fem GoYuu Infidelity Wednesday #5 🌈

May shall bring more, seeing as I'm nowhere near done with this AU. I've written another 10k this last week and almost finished Chapter 7, but that still puts me only halfway through the fic in terms of the chapter count.

Now, bidding the month goodbye with some thirsty appreciation for muscled women! Warning for Gojou's...mouth.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might get pregnant.”

Yuuji takes a moment out of molesting Satoru with her eyes to say, genuine bewilderment furrowing her brows, “I…don’t think it works like that, sensei.”

“Well, not with that attitude.” Satoru smooths a hand over her belly, the skin there tingling as the thin mesh fabric rubs against it. It’s been a while. “Why don’t you come here and try anyway?”

Yuuji stumbles forward like a woman possessed, her eyes roaming wildly over Satoru’s body, from the tits spilling out of the lacy bodice to the thighs mostly bared by the babydoll-style slip. Satoru turns over to her side, doing nothing to stop the dress from riding up her thigh and pooling to the side, almost baring her cunt. Not that the sheer fabric hides much anyway. Satoru hasn’t bothered with any underwear, not even the flimsy thong that came with this piece.

“On second thought,” Satoru says just as Yuuji’s about to climb into bed, holding out a hand to stop her, “give me a show first.”

Lust-darkened blink flit to her face, not lasting more than a moment before dropping to her cleavage. “Huh?”

“Take your clothes off, Yuuji.”

“Oh.” Yuuji stares down at herself, as if she’s checking to see if there are actually clothes on her person. “Right.”

Honestly, Yuuji looks good in Satoru’s clothes. The t-shirt is too big on her—it’s big on even Satoru, which was why she got it in the first place—and the collar slips tantalizingly down one shoulder to expose the jut of her clavicle. It falls to her mid-thighs, only an inch or so of the shorts underneath peeking out. She looks very cuddly.

But Satoru’s not planning on cuddling her just yet.

Despite what Satoru said, Yuuji doesn’t give her much of a show, stripping with frenzied efficiency. The shorts have barely hit the floor before she’s crawling into bed and over Satoru, sculpted muscles gleaming golden under the warm overhead lights.

Satoru lets Yuuji’s encroachment turn her onto her back, only to raise a leg and brace her foot against Yuuji’s scrumptious abs, lightly nudging her back.

Yuuji goes easily, probably to get a better look at Satoru’s cunt.

It clenches like it’s saying hi, but Satoru valiantly ignores that. She’s been wet since before Yuuji entered the room, and the last few minutes of blistering scrutiny have only coaxed out more slick. In the end, Yuuji’s the one getting a show after all.

“Sensei?”

“Stay a moment,” Satoru says, sliding an arm under her head to prop it up further for better leering. “Let me just look at you.”

Show or no show, Satoru can’t complain about the view. Yuuji’s a sight to behold, and Satoru didn’t get to really enjoy that on the night she took Yuuji home or during the classroom tryst that followed, but she had this body plastered to hers all through the night last Saturday. She got to touch and taste and feel the power in it.

Ever since Satoru started working out in earnest all those years ago, most of the fat in her body has concentrated on her tits and thighs—the only parts on her you can really sink your hands into. But Yuuji clearly has a more even distribution. The girl’s almost all muscle; even the modest swell of flesh on her chest is more like pecs than tits. Satoru can cup them in her hands with plenty of room left over.

She’s never fucked a girl with a body like this. If Yuuji grows any more, she’ll probably outweigh Satoru. She may even overpower her.

Her cunt duly submits its approval.

“You don’t happen to have a cock, do you?” Satoru murmurs.

There’s a long stretch of silence.

Then—

“…You’ve seen my cunt, Gojou-sensei. You’re looking at it right now.”

Satoru sure has seen it. Satoru’s done a lot more to it. Well, more like it’s done a lot to her. Sometimes, her mouth waters with the taste without prompting, but mostly, she remembers how it felt to choke on it.

“I mean the kind you buy,” she clarifies, not taking her eyes off said cunt. Yuuji’s clearly not one for shaving, and her bush is the same wild blend of pink and black as the hair on her head, just more evenly mixed. Satoru has vague memories of sleepily dragging her fingers through it. “You could make very good use of it, with a body like that.”

“Thanks, I think,” Yuuji says. She sounds thoughtful. “I don’t. Never really thought of it either.”

“You haven’t ever used one then?”

Yuuji shakes her head. “Not those.”

“What else?”

“Just—” Yuuji gestures vaguely, half in the direction of Satoru’s cunt. “Other toys. Hand stuff.”

Satoru drags her eyes to Yuuji’s face, taking the scenic route. “Yours? The toys, that is.”

“Mostly not,” Yuuji admits.

“Saving your money for better things, hm?”

Yuuji ducks her head, cupping the back of her neck. The tips of her ears are red. “I guess. I mean, I like them! But I like people more.”

“You do act like you’ll die if you don’t gorge on pussy,” Satoru muses.

“Sensei!”

“It’s not a complaint,” Satoru says, winking at Yuuji. “I’ll buy you one.”

“Eh?”

“A cock,” Satoru clarifies. “And teach you how to use it. I’ll even let you learn on me. Would you like that, Yuuji?”

The dark flush spreading across Yuuji’s cheeks is its own answer, but she still rasps out, “Yes.”

“Perfect,” Satoru purrs, lowering her leg—except it’s caught by the ankle, Yuuji’s fingers a burning brand. “Oh? Hungry already? I suppose I didn’t feed you dessert.”

“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji says, her tone something that could be exasperation if it weren’t so scorchingly hungry, and then Satoru’s being spread wide open, the leg caught in Yuuji’s grip bent back and tugged to the side to fully bare her cunt.

Slick trickles down Satoru’s taint, almost tickling the sensitive skin.

Yuuji touches it, her fingertips barely prodding the damp outer folds before there are two whole fingers sinking deep inside.

Satoru makes a noise, clenching around them helplessly. The stretch is no strain, her flesh wet and willing, but being so suddenly filled is doing a thing or two her insides, far beyond the tensing walls of her cunt.

“Where’s the romance, Yuuji?” she asks anyway, keeping her voice smooth with painstaking deliberation. “You haven’t even kissed me.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji says, not sounding all that sorry, and kisses Satoru—without taking those fingers out of her cunt.

Satoru opens her mouth, a gleeful greedy on the tip of her tongue, but Yuuji’s tongue shoves the words back down her throat, kissing her deep with wet, wicked violence, and below, her fingers mirror the motion, twitching and twisting against the walls of Satoru’s cunt.

Heat laps at her gut, spreading across her body in rippling waves.

Satoru helps herself to her own fair share of flesh, running her hands over Yuuji’s back and shoulders and sides, digging her fingers deep till the muscles there clench up in resistance, and Yuuji kisses her deeper and fucks her rougher for it, her tongue lashing inside Satoru’s mouth while her fingers spear into her cunt, and there’s never a moment of reprieve, both the tongue and the fingers never fully sliding out of Satoru.

But there’s also something lazy about it. Yuuji’s kissing is as sweet as it’s sloppy, like she’s taking her time tasting Satoru, and the fingers in her cunt aren’t moving with any real purpose, as likely to rub idly at her walls as tease those spots that spark her up inside. It’s certainly not a lack of knowledge. Yuuji’s demonstrated quite well that she knows her way around a cunt, and she’s been a very quick learner when it comes to Satoru’s body in particular.

This just feels like Yuuji’s making an appetizer out of Satoru’s flesh.

It’s unfair how that also goes to Satoru’s cunt, her hips lifting off the mattress to press her body closer to Yuuji’s hand.

Yuuji hums into the kiss. A thumb slots against the side of Satoru’s pussy, tucked against that warm line between thigh and cunt, and the rest of Yuuji’s fingers press against Satoru’s taint. They rub, the angle a little off but the pressure deep and biting, and Satoru gushes around the still-lazy fingers buried inside her.

“Tease,” she gasps around Yuuji’s tongue.

Yuuji breaks the kiss to say, every word smeared against Satoru’s damp lips, “You wanted romance, sensei.”

Satoru huffs. “This isn’t romance, it’s torture.”

“Thought you liked that too.”

“Minx.” Satoru pulls Yuuji’s ear, earning herself an exaggerated pout against her lips. Yuuji’s eyes are barely open, but what they show is warm and dark. “Touch me properly, kid.”

Yuuji takes her hand off Satoru’s cunt, which is patently not what she was asking for, but before Satoru can complain or protest, there are two whole palms on her thighs, one dry and the other wet, and the discordant sensations as they slide up the length of her legs, pausing only to sink all ten fingers into the plush inside of each thigh, are enough to keep her silent and squirming, even when Yuuji’s hands shift from flesh to fabric, gripping Satoru’s hips and stroking in a way that rubs the lacy mesh against her skin, sparking it up.

[cowboah-baby]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @zanazirafanfic <3 all of these fics are charthur and rated E fyi

1) How many works do you have on ao3?

27

2) What's your total ao3 word count?

331,455

3) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Composure (smut one-shot) Abyssal Appetites (siren au) i'll take all you can give (sds part 3) we're changing our ways, taking different roads (sds part 10) please take me out (on a shitty date) (sds part 1)

4) What fandoms do you write for?

literally only red dead

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to respond to every comment but sometimes my anxiety and adhd wins... if you ever left a comment just know i go back and read those so often and treasure every single one. if a chapter gets a lot of comments i'll do my best to update the fic asap (it's motivating to have community!)

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i do not write angst/whump, but probably the john pov fic in the shitty date saga because he's so early in his recovery in that one

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

definitely part 1 of the saga. it's so fluffy and full of promise and nothing bad has happened yet :3c

8) Do you get hate on fics?

nope

9) Do you write smut?

that's the only constant in my writing

10) Do you write crossovers?

nope

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of. i have a very tiny niche

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope - still a tiny niche

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

composure and various states are co-written with @chut-je-dors, and also @arrestzelle ideated the javicharthur smut dynamic with me. @absolutedisaster69 and @arthur-kilgore have ideated siren au with me so much, it's almost like they work as the creative directors sometimes. i like community and writing/ideating together the MOST in writing!!

14) What's your all time favorite ship?

is anyone gonna be surprised if i say charthur

15) What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i WILL finish siren au and the shitty date saga. both are in final chapters and i know exactly how they're gonna end (outlines are already done). I've been battling burnout lately so it might be slow doing, but i do write weekly so they WILL get done.

16) What are your writing strengths?

i've heard positive feedback on my smut and how it seems "real" somehow, so maybe that. i also love writing inner conflict and feel like that comes to me pretty naturally

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

keeping the balance. sometimes there's too much inner work and sometimes too much action - balancing it out takes a lot of effort and i'm still not always happy with the outcomes.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

well uh. english is my "another language" so i do that all the time. it's difficult but at the same time there's a layer of detachment that helps in not overanalyzing the dialogue

19) First fandom you wrote for?

i found a supernatural au fic on my hard drive i had written when i was like 19. i'm glad it hadn't been published

20) Favorite fic you've ever written?

honestly, i can't choose between the saga and siren au. they're so massive in their own ways - abyssal appetites is more coherent but sds is just... it's grown to be so massive i'm proud of the effort. i know it's not very popular (since once again, super niche) but the first part of sodomy and g&ts is very dear to me.

tagging @chut-je-dors @absolutedisaster69 @arthur-kilgore and @arrestzelle in case you want to do this!

[coraniaid]

OK, since we're posting about Amy Madison again and I'm trying to get back into fic writing habits -- habits which, I am forced to admit, should probably include posting things I'm not completely convinced are good enough yet -- here's the first half (or thereabouts) of an Amy Madison one-shot that I've been messing around with for ages off and on but haven't quite been able to finish. This is also, at least in theory, a stealth prologue for the Season 7 AU I keep claiming to be working on, but you don't really need to know that.

[...]

The sun won’t be up for hours, and Amy Madison – failed cheerleader, high-school drop-out, second rate witch and part-time rodent – is sitting alone in the middle of a cemetery.  

Only … no, that’s not true.  That’s all wrong, isn’t it?  She’s gotten the story confused already; screwed everything up again, just like she always does.  Yes, it’s past midnight in Sunnydale and she’s sitting in a cemetery.  But she’s not alone.  That’s sort of the problem.  It’s true there aren’t any people here with her, but there are other things.  Things that look an awful lot like people.  Until they don’t.

Amy used to think she was smarter than this.  She’d lived her whole life in Sunnydale – she’d gone to high school on an actual Hellmouth; started teaching herself magic before she turned seventeen, survived suspiciously timed gas leaks and multiple supposed gangs on PCP  – so she really should have been more careful. But then, if she were smart and careful, she’d have gotten out of this town months ago.  It was obvious she’d outstayed her welcome.  Never athletic and popular enough for her mom, still not normal and sweet and innocent enough for her dad, not special or interesting enough to mean anything much to anyone.

The only person who’d ever really believed in her was Willow.  The only thing she’d ever had going for her were those few brief moments – each of them unbearably, shamefully precious; hoarded somewhere deep and furtive inside her heart – when her friend had looked at her, and she’d felt … worthy.  Had felt that she didn’t have to live up to her mom’s strict ideas of who she had to be, or her dad’s hopelessly optimistic ideas of who she could become. Had felt that, perhaps, just being plain old boring Amy was enough.  That she’d found somebody she could count on, no matter what.

Stupid. 

Willow had been her friend since they were kids.  Her best friend; maybe her only friend. But even as a kid Amy had been painfully aware that things weren’t nice and symmetric. She’d known she wasn’t Willow’s best friend.  Not even close. Not even in the running.  And that had rankled, sure.  Had hurt a bit when she thought about it too long.  But at least she had a friend.  At least she had Willow. Until one day, out of the blue, after everything she’d been through, Willow had cut her off.  Cut her out of her life.  Over nothing.  Over a joke.

She can still remember how it had felt, almost six months later.  Why had Willow blown up like that?  She wasn’t so different from Amy, was she?  Amy had seen her with her guard down and her mask off. She wasn’t just the cute little perfect student she’d spent high school pretending to be.  Not the meek little sidekick or the perfect unassuming girlfriend either.  Below the surface, she was like Amy.  A better version of her, sure.  Smarter, skinnier, prettier, more talented.  More loveable.  More loved.  But not really different, given everything.  Not deep down.  Deep down, she’d always wanted to have some fun too.  Hadn’t she?

If you really are my friend, you better stay away from me.

Willow’s last words to her still echoed in her dreams sometimes.  Still played back in her mind when she lay in bed weeks later, miserable and alone. 

And she had stayed away, hadn’t she?  Just like her friend had told her to.  For all the good it had done, she’d done what she was told.  Kept her distance, waited not-so-patiently for Willow to calm down and see sense.  To give her a second chance, the way people were always, always giving Willow second chances.  Second chance after second chance, whatever Willow did wrong.

She’d stayed away, but she’d not let herself go far.  She should have gotten out of town, but she didn’t.  She’d hung around waiting, for months, and where had it gotten her?  Where had she finally ended up?  Here.  Alone in a Sunnydale cemetery at midnight, like the worst kind of idiot.

The sad truth was that, without Willow … well, It wasn’t like she had anyone else.  

She’d given Michael a call weeks ago, or tried to – the phone had just rung and rung until she’d finally hung up, told herself that this just made things simpler – but it wasn’t like they’d known each for long.  Just a few months, in the last year of high school, after they’d both started getting into magic, and before … well, she doesn’t like to think about before.  Besides, she was ancient history to him.  If he was even still alive, he’d probably gotten out of Sunnydale himself years ago.  Left for college or gotten a job or met a nice boy he’d want to spend forever with.  All things that, for one reason or another, she’d never ever do.

Her friends had moved on, her mother was … really not an option, wherever she’d ended up, and her father kept looking at her like she was a stranger when he thought she wasn’t watching.  She felt like a stranger, sometimes.  In his new, unfamiliar house; in her own, frustratingly unfamiliar and still too large body. She was still staying in his spare bedroom and eating his food – where else could she have gone? – but he had a new family now, a real family, and she was just a sad unwanted interloper in their home.

A few hours ago, she'd snapped.  She'd tried to be good, she really had – the way the Willow that still haunted her dreams would’ve wanted – but going without magic for days had left her feeling weak and stretched out and empty and sick.  The way it always had done, every since she'd first started working through her mother’s old spell books. There was only one thing she could do when it got this bad.  She didn’t have a choice.  So she'd waited until everyone was asleep, then snuck out, promising herself she’d be back before they missed her.

(Which in practice meant she could be gone for as long as she liked.  They were never going to miss her.  That just made things simpler too.)

Rack's place was on the other side of town, the bad side of town, but of course that didn't mean it was far.  Sunnydale wasn't exactly a big place. She'd made it over there fine, too, no problems at all … only, when she arrived, it turned out Rack wasn't there.  He was gone.  Chased out of town.  Dead, some people said, but that couldn't be true.  People like Rack didn't just die.  They couldn’t.

But no Rack meant no more magic, and the little reserves she'd been saving were all used up.  Her dad's place seemed further away when she did the journey the other way around.  Much, much further. Impossibly far.

She'd made it less than halfway when she'd heard something moving in the dark.  Something that had spooked her. Made her think of pale creatures with too-sharp teeth, lurking in the shadows ahead.  Made her change course.  Taken a wrong turning, thinking – wrongly, stupidly, just like always – that she’d be able to circle around until she found her way again.  Only she never had.

That's why she’s here, well past the witching hour, alone in a Sunnydale cemetery.   Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And, anyway, she isn’t alone, remember?  She’s making all sorts of new friends. She'd just sat down on a bench for a moment, just to clear her head, and she'd arrived.  A woman.  Or, well, almost that.  Somebody who, Amy realized too late, had been following behind her for a while.  Herding her here, spooking her whenever she tried to head somewhere else.  Stalking her, like an animal following a scent.  Like a–

Some part of Amy – the part that still wakes up at night, twitching and terrified, that jumps whenever she hears something creaking in the dark, the part that remembers being small and weak and caged – doesn’t let her finish that thought.

“Didn’t your mummy teach you not to stay out so late, little mouse?” the woman asks her.  She doesn’t sound like anyone Amy’s ever spoken to before.

She's wearing a white dress, in a style Amy doesn't recognize.  Pretty, in a dark gothic tragedy kind of way.  Both of them are, the woman and the dress. No, she’s not just pretty, Amy corrects herself.  That word isn’t right.  She’s beautiful: the seemingly effortless sort of beauty that Amy had used to wish for herself.  Something more than the familiar, unwanted face that used to stare back resentfully at her whenever she checked a mirror.  A beautiful animal with teeth and claws and– 

“My mom’s dead,” she says, as bravely as she can, and wonders whether it’s true.

Everyone thought she was, that was sure.  She’d vanished from the world entirely.  There one minute, gone the next.  No messages, no threats, no demands.  She’d been away for years.  There was nothing to suggest she was still out there.  No reason to think she could still be plotting her revenge; thinking up some fresh new punishment for her disappointment of a daughter.   No reason for Amy to keep looking over her shoulder, waiting, watchful, just in case.  No reason to be scared at all.

Well, no reason except for all the vampires.  Which this strange woman – beautiful though she is – very obviously is.

Still, Amy thinks. She's not totally helpless.  She was her mother’s daughter, wasn’t she?  She’d faced more frightening things than vampires and lived to talk about it.  She’d had to sit through more than one of Principal Snyder’s less than inspirational speeches; found herself transformed into her own Halloween costume for a night; been possessed by some sort of grub monster that hatched out of the egg she’d been told to take care of for her school science project; been the victim of her own misfiring love spell; been hounded by a mob of (probably possessed) parents and almost burnt alive at the stake.

(At least her dad had been out of town that week.)

Put next to all of that, a vampire should be easy.  Kid’s stuff.  But you don’t even have a cross, you stupid girl, a voice not totally unlike her mother’s echoes in her head.  What are you going to do without a cross, or a stake, or …

Amy does her best to ignore the voice.   To glare at the vampire, trying desperately hard not to seem afraid.

“Who are you?” she asks, voice barely trembling.

“A friend,” the vampire purrs, looking unreasonably pleased with herself.  Amy still can’t quite place her accent.  Vaguely European. British, maybe?  She doesn’t sound much like Mr Giles, but it’s not like Amy knows many other people from England. It's not like Amy knows much except for Sunnydale.  

(The vampire really is distractingly good-looking, Amy thinks.  Unfairly, inhumanly so.  Pale and thin and flawless in all the ways her mother used to let her know she wasn’t.) 

“What do you want?” she asks.  Her voice does tremble this time.  They both know the answer to that question, don’t they? There's only one thing a vampire would want with any strange girl in a Sunnydale cemetery after midnight.  Only–

“I want to save you, little mouse,” the vampire says with a serene, untroubled smile.  “To make you strong, like me.”

Amy doesn't like the sound of that. Or the sharpness of the teeth the smile reveals.

“You … you’d better stay away from me,” she says, trying to draw on her last reserves of magical energy, pathetically small though they seemed just moments earlier.  “I mean it.”

“Fierce little mouse,” the vampire laughs delightedly, entirely unthreatened.  “All puffed up with her sharp little teeth and claws.”

She makes an exaggerated snarling face, hissing, arms raised like paws, pretending to strike at the air.  Then grins at her, all faux innocence – looking suddenly much younger than Amy knows she must be – like she’s waiting for Amy to laugh with her.  Like this is funny.  Like Amy is just some big joke.

Amy scowls, for a moment too offended to be frightened.

“I’m not a mouse,” she insists.  

She’s not a rat either.  Not any more.  Not a punchline or a disappointment or a sad little accident.  Not a victim.

“I’m a witch,” she says stubbornly.  “I’m dangerous.”

The voice in her head isn’t impressed by that.  But you haven’t been practicing, have you? It asks.  Or kept back enough power for even a single spell.  Really, it’s like you’re still trying to disappoint me. 

The vampire doesn’t seem impressed either.

“We’re all dangerous, dear heart,” she says, voice reverberating strangely in the darkness of the cemetery that surrounds them.  “Look at me, for instance.”

Look at me, Amy hears, echoing back oddly on the cold night breeze.

She freezes, for a second or two.  Trying to remember the words of a spell to summon fire, or light, or noise, or anything.  She doesn’t even see the vampire move.  One second she’s just sitting there, the next her hand is around Amy’s throat.  Firmly, surely, just not quite tight enough to choke.  Long black-nailed fingers stroke Amy’s chin and cheeks, surprisingly gentle, while the vampire coos meaningless platitudes and endearments into her ear. Golden eyes staring into hers so intently it's almost blinding. An attention fierce enough to make Amy's own eyes flutter close.

Amy doesn't remember most of her life since high school. The missing years, she privately thinks of them. She gets flashes, sometimes. The occasional dream. Nothing more. Maybe that's for the best. She doesn't remember the things her body did while her mother was in control either. Had to piece that all together from things she saw from the outside, or other people told her later. Willow told her, once, years ago, that Xander got himself possessed by a hyena briefly once and that, while he pretended not to remember anything he did while that was happening -- the things he did while he was something else -- she wasn't sure he was telling the truth. Amy doesn't think she'd like that. Maybe it's better not to remember.

But now, with the vampires's pale white teeth practically at her throat, she feels a sudden bone-deep certainty that she's been through something like this before. The memory -- or dream, whatever -- is so vivid, so lifelike, so real that for a moment she forgets where or when she is.

She's lying in her cage, in the middle of the night, heart pounding like a terrible drum. All her senses are screaming at her that there's a monster lurking in the dark. A familiar nightmare; something sleek and strong and fearsome; a blood-soaked hunter ready to gobble her up. An enemy who sees her as something less than that: as a toy, maybe, or a brief and temporary distraction to be utterly destroyed. She knows she has to hide, to run, only she can't. She's too afraid to move. Then, suddenly, the lights flicker on, banishing the darkness, a stern voice shoos the hateful enemy away -- "No, Miss Fantastico, bad kitty! Leave Amy alone," -- the roof of her cage is lifted up and up, and She's there. Willow; her Willow, her protector; always there for her. Impossibly tall and beautiful and powerful; overloading all her senses; drowning out everything else.

Amy raises herself up on the bars of her cage, squeaks imploringly, and Willow looks down on her and smiles. Then she's lifting Amy gently up into the air, holding her firmly but carefully. Stroking her hair and whispering words Amy can't quite understand, but doesn't need to. Making promises she believes instinctively. Offering soft assurances that fill her up completely. Whatever the words mean, she knows that she's loved. That she's safe. That everything is going to be okay.

It's a good memory. Amy feels herself start to smile, somewhere very far away. She yawns, and snuggles up against the hands that hold her. Lets herself relax, nuzzling gently against soft bare skin and chirping quietly to herself. Lets herself float away into unconsciousness. Everything fades away around them as she lets her Willow take her somewhere warm and new.

[zorosjuicymelonsx]

Finding You

A/N: Guys I'm here and I'm so sorry I'm a week late with this. I got a new job after losing mine a few months ago so things have been hectic lately with my schedule. All I can say is sometimes adulting SUCKS but I love money so 😭🤑

A lovely reader on AO3 had helped me realise there was an anomaly with the timeline of how Y/N and Zoro meet and all so I went through it and I thought I would go through this:

Y/N's flashback of Zoro sleeping in the forest in Chapter 3 was when they were 15 so its actually 7 years ago and not 4 years ago. I've edited this and amended the story you tell Zoro slightly in Chapter 5 to correct this so my apologies for not finding this sooner. I wanted to show that she had a crush on him before they officially met after he rescued her in the alley. They then turn 16, graduate school and then Zoro asks her out. They date till 18, get engaged and marry at 19. Zoro disappears a few days after this and you spend the 2, almost 2 and a half years looking for him so he's 21 and your 21.

Its sometime after Wano and Egghead doesn't exist in this "dimension" when you find him in Chapter 1 so they're just cruising right now. I wanted to match the actual One Piece ages he was before and after timeskip.

I hope this has helped clarify if anyone else was confused of the timeline but please do enjoy this chapter. Because of my new job, I'll do my very post to work and post in a timely manner. Thank you for everyones patience and support with me.

Chapter Eight Previous Next “Zoro? You okay?”

“i-I have to go, m’sorry.” 

That was the last thing he said to you a week ago in the Crows Nest. You had gone through every single possible reason for why he suddenly would switch up the way he did which left you nowhere near to a conclusive answer. You were sure you’d done absolutely nothing but at the same time doubted yourself and wondered if you had done something unconsciously. 

Since then, he'd practically been living in the Crows Nest. He never ate in the galley anymore, never came on the deck to hang around with anyone and you weren’t even sure if he was sticking with his once a week baths. Every time you tried to seek him out, you noticed the hint of stress in his face and would walk away in the opposite direction. Thankfully you weren’t the only one who noticed the swordsman's strange behaviour. 

“Marimo is really starting to piss me off, can you believe he’s making me bring his meals to him like I’m some waiter?!” Sanji spat with annoyance as he piled nourishment onto Zoro’s breakfast plate. You knew Zoro wouldn’t have asked Sanji for food, you just understood Sanjis code of ethics when it came to making sure that every member of the crew was properly fed and nourished. You appreciated him for it. 

You were one of the few who remained in the galley after breakfast, sitting with Jinbe and Usopp who were finishing off their own meals. You’d leaned forward to sit your chin on your forearms as you traced the rim of your coffee cup with your finger caught in a net of progressive overthinking of the enigma that was your husband. 

“Has he really not said anything?” Usopp asked Sanji, the cook turning to face them, the plate in his hand piled high in mostly eggs, sausages and toast. 

“Not a word. I swear the algae on his heads really taken over his brain.” Sanji cursed before leaving the galley, chewing on his unlit cigarette. 

“Isn’t this normal for Zoro? I mean he is pretty quiet.” Jinbe asked Usopp. Since Jinbe was the most recent crewmate to join Luffy and the crew before you, it was understandable he would ask. You would have agreed with Jinbe on the fact Zoro was quiet, however, you knew better than to mistake this for just his regular self. 

“When something is bothering him, he shuts down. He avoids everyone, he won’t talk, he’ll just isolate. I just can’t figure out what's bothering him.” You grumbled out before lifting your cup to take a gulp of your coffee. Setting the cup down, you realised you couldn’t hear either of them talking anymore and turned to see them both staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Has he really never done this in front of you guys?” You questioned the gaping pair with a raised brow slightly mocking their owlish stares back. Jinbe shook his head as expected whereas Usopp's gaze drifted off behind you in thought. You assumed he was revisiting his album of memories with the swordsman. 

“Well…there was the time on Thriller Bark when he shut himself away to train but it wasn’t anything like this.” Usopp answered cautiously, his mouth slightly turned down in slight distress.This caught your attention and your heart filled with anxiety. 

“What happened?” You asked, unconsciously frowning. Usopp's gaze refocused back to yours, adjusting himself uncomfortably in his seat as he seemed hesitant to retell the story. Nonetheless, he sighed before clearing his throat to speak. 

“We were on Thriller Bark where we met Brook. Brook was stuck on his old crew's ship and he couldn’t leave because his shadow being taken by the ex-warlord Gecko Moria.”

“Brook has a shadow?” You asked in surprise trying to suppress a laugh. You valued Brook as a crew member despite his panties fetish. Thankfully Nami always stepped in after he asked to put him in his place.

“I don’t even know anymore, ANYWAYS ....we managed to defeat him but another ex-warlord named Kuma came for us.We don’t know what exactly happened because Kuma knocked us out but we know Zoro got really hurt. He was unconscious for a few days after that. I think at the time we underestimated them but knowing him, he blamed himself for not being strong enough.” 

Usopp clarified, his tone laced with guilt. Your heart ached at the idea of Zoro being that severely injured to that extent. You knew he didn’t care as long as he met his goal in the end even if you did reprimand him on his mentality many times over the years you both dated. You had eventually accepted it and you didn’t want to stand in his way.

“Let's just give him space and see what happens.” You spoke assuringly to the two despite your chest hammering with the anxiety of unsurety. 

One Week Later

Two weeks had passed since you last heard Zoro's voice. The patient person you were two weeks ago was buried deep inside and now your patience was wearing thin along with your paranoia running rampant. You couldn’t take the silence anymore and neither could the rest of the crew. 

It was the afternoon and Nami had called everyone in for a crew meeting on deck, including Zoro who had unsuccessfully attempted to blend into the background. Your eyes has locked in on him from the moment you walked in and spotted green. You also saw the obvious attempt he made to avoid looking your way as he chose to focus his gaze on the wall behind Nami. 

‘Just what was so interesting about the wall you fucker?’ You thought to yourself as you leaned back in your chair in observation. 

“Right guys, I called this meeting in because I came across information that there's an island nearby rumoured to have a fuck ton of treasure. We gotta make a game plan.” Nami excitedly spoke, the berries practically beaming out of her eye sockets. Reluctantly, you took your eyes away from Zoro to focus on Nami. 

For about an hour, she went over and planned in detail how to navigate the island, showing you and the others the maps and other sources of information from a book she read detailing the treasure and its history. 

“I also decided that not all of us can go on the island so I’m picking Zoro and Y/N to stay behind on the ship.” Nami added. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Zoro stiffen before clearing his throat to speak up. 

“I’m coming with you guys, have Sanji stay on the ship with Y/N.” Zoro spoke in a low, reserved manner clearly disguising his obvious discomfort towards you. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in two weeks but hearing the words he chose only had you gritting your teeth. You took a deep breath in and decided that at that moment you couldn’t take anymore. 

He had drawn your last straw. 

“Oh Y/N-chan, I’d love to-” You cut off Sanji as you stood up from your seat, the feet of the chair roughly scraping against the floor boards as you paced your steps towards Zoro to now stand strong in front of him. You felt the intense gaze of the others on you but ignored it, the anger you felt overpowered your rationality. 

“Whats your fucking problem?” You spat out as you looked up at him. 

This caught him off surprise. You could see he was trying to shift away from you but you weren’t going to allow him to get out of this. You moved in tandem with him whenever he attempted to get away from you only to have him give up and stay glued to the wall behind him. 

“I ain’t got no problem-”

“Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me for the past two weeks. In fact, you’ve been avoiding ALL of us.” 

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No I’m fucking not.” You somehow got even closer, your chest practically touching his as you felt his body heat against you. 

“She's really not Zoro, did something happen between you two?” Nami asked cautiously behind you.

“Did I do something?” 

He could see you were frustrated with him and he could see he was only hurting you more than he wanted to. 

‘I’m sorry….’ He thought as he looked at you, the guilt overwhelming him. 

Whilst he didn’t appreciate the questioning from you and the heavy gazes of everyone, he will admit he had isolated himself from you. It wasn’t because you did anything to him personally and it wasn’t because he started rejecting your presence on the ship; by far you'd been patient with him by letting him be. The persistent questioning he got from the others, especially the shitty cook despite being appreciative of him bringing his meals to him only to be met with silence from him only fueled his guilt. Since the discovery of his feelings for you, he felt overwhelmed. Being around you distracted him. He felt the want to be with you but at the same time, his mind shielded him from you as if he was protecting himself from you. He prided himself in being strong minded and he felt frustrated with himself over how he could possibly feel this way when he prided himself in being strong minded. He could only theorise that this mental block with you had to do with the guy who’d wiped his memory. 

‘Was his named Edward? Ethan? Whatever, it didn’t matter.’

He knew he was being a dick by staying away from you but he didn’t know what else to do. The moment he accepted his feelings for you, he’d also accepted what felt like an overwhelming burden in his stomach. He felt panic, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He left you in the Crows Nest, remembering the feeling of not being able to breathe. This was why Zoro did not do feelings; they were complicated. 

“You didn’t do anyth-”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” You persistently questioned, the frustration brimming in your eyes. 

“I’m done with this, I’m leaving.” He felt his heart climbing up into his throat with you being so close to him.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting out of this one.” 

You made an impulse decision out of anger. With your free hand, you summoned a hole behind Zoro. You pictured the very island where you spent time training yourself with your devil fruit, knowing it was quiet and you wouldn’t be disturbed. The hole behind him had formed and Zoro had realised too late he was no longer leaning against solid and fell through the smoke of clouds that enveloped him. 

You turned to the others who were gaping at you in shock. Even Luffy stayed glued to his seat with no attempt to jump through the cloud of smoke. 

“I’ll bring him back tomorrow.” You huffed out before going through the hole yourself. 

As you landed in the sand of the island, you looked up to see the hole you summoned. You then looked around to see your surroundings. The island hadn’t changed one bit; the wave of nostalgia hit as you breathed in the smell of the sand and sea, the lingering scent of greenery coming from the forest coming into the mix as well. If you looked around again, you’d be able to find the rock you carved the last date you were here before leaving to continue your search for Zoro. 

You purposefully summoned the hole on the empty side of the island, choosing to leave the small population of habitants to the other side undisturbed. They were peaceful people and had even shared a few meals with you from time to time whenever a few of them found you exhausted from exertion after training. They knew you well and that you didn’t pose a threat, choosing to peacefully coexist with them. 

Once closed, the anger still ever present in your system you looked around to spot Zoro sitting in the sand as he looked around taking his surroundings. 

“Wh-where are-?” 

“You gonna talk or what?” You aggressively asked. 

Zoro was now angry. He didn’t want to fight with you, he just wanted to piece together his feelings and rebuild his courage to be around you. He wasn’t ready to face you and being here with you only made him feel worse.  

He stood up from the sand and stomped over to stand over you, pushing the bile from his thumping heart back down his throat.

“What…the FUCK…were you thinking? Why would you do that? Do you realise without me there, you’ve put the others in danger? Take us back NOW.” 

“First of all, step the fuck back and calm down. Second of all, they’ll be fine. Third of all, were not going anywhere until we sort whatever the fucks gone up your ass and died.” You said as you matched his energy. 

“Fuck this, I’m out.” Zoro refused to admit anything. He couldn’t. He turned away from you and began walking. 

“Roronoa Zoro, come back here now.” You ordered him as you followed behind. 

“No. Piss off.” He called back as he continued stomping. 

“Zoro, stop.” You shouted, your voice almost broke as your anger now turned into hurt. 

“Leave me alone Y/N.” 

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” You now cried out. You couldn’t stop the tears and the lump in your throat as you stared at his back. 

Zoro stopped at the sound of your voice breaking. He frowned at the thought of you upset, his heart ached but he couldn’t turn around. 

“I’m not doing anything to you Y/N. I just need space.” He spoke regretfully before he continued walking again and turned left heading into the forest. You stood still as you watched him walk away.

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, taking your palm to rub against your forehead in frustration and then using the back of your hand to wipe your tears away. You hated crying, you’d always felt so weak. No matter how much you try to control it, the tears always win. You decided to sit, digging yourself further into the sand before leaning back to let it envelop you. 

You breathed in, allowing yourself to take in the sound of the waves crashing against the damp sand. You didn’t realise how much you missed being back on land. You loved being on the Sunny, you really did but sometimes allowing yourself to be grounded for a bit always helped. 

You let your hands moved with the sand, feeling the softness of it between your fingers. You clenched the sand into your palms finding the action soothing and allowing the anger you’d felt seep into each particle.

What were you going to do with Zoro? 

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

A few hours had passed and you found yourself waking up from a nap you had unconsciously taken. You noticed the sun was beginning to lower, you predicted you had a few hours left before nightfall. You sighed before getting up from the sand, swiping off the residue of sand that was left on your clothes and turned to face the direction Zoro left you from. You were grateful the island was small and you knew it  wouldn’t take you long to track down the lost swordsman. 

As you were about to start walking, you felt a presence lurking near you. You stiffened before smiling and realising there was more than one and posed no danger. 

“How long have you guys been there for?” You called out. You turned to find a small group of what you assumed were hunters gathering food. The group consisted of three men and one woman. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” One of the male hunters asked. 

“I’m fine don’t worry…you didn’t happen to see a green haired guy with three swords roaming around?” You queried. You didn’t know them personally but you assumed the few that did check in on you when you were training spread the word to the others of your existence.

“He’s sitting by the waterfall.” The female hunter softly answered. You nodded as you brought the memorised path to the area up into your mind to plan out your short walk. 

“Thank you, don’t mind us. We’ll be gone tomorrow.” You promised before you began making your way to him. A short walk through the forest and your feet found you at the beginning of a small lake. As you continued, your eyes caught the waterfall and the blue hues of water falling over into the lake. You looked around and soon enough your eyes caught on a head of green hair. You frowned at his slouched demeanor, noticing his eye was lost in the water and in thought. You took a quick breath in before continuing your walk to now stand near the swordsman. You noticed his body stiffened as you felt your presence before slouching back, his eye not breaking out of his lost gaze. 

“Zoro…I.” 

“Don’t speak.” 

Your mouth closed into a straight line, the words ‘I’m sorry’ stuck at the tip of your tongue. You felt like you stood for eternity but just a few short minutes later and you decided to find a seat on the grass near him. Your eyes followed his and soon enough you were also lost in the water with him. Apart from the sounds of the water crashing into the lake and the gentle calls from the birds in the trees, the angst between the both of you laid thick. 

As you watched the water, you were reminded of how much you missed swimming and the ability to just float. You had thankfully never fallen into the ocean since obtaining your devil fruit but the thought of sinking struck fear in you. You missed the feeling of saltwater soaking into your skin, letting your fingertips wrinkle and allowing your mind to wonder and be free. Sure you were able to shower in non-sea water but it just wasn’t the same. 

Time had passed and the sky had turned into a deep hue of orange indicating the end of daylight. The forest had begun to fill out with fireflies, adding to the ambiance and giving light to where you both sat. You knew you’d have to start a fire and look for food soon but you couldn’t find the will to do so yet. 

You had decided to scoot closer to the edge of the lake, allowing yourself to indulge in the only closeness you can have to water. 

“You ain’t plannin to jump in right?” 

Hearing his voice shook you out of thought, you shook your head to answer his question. 

Zoro had every right to be pissed at you but seeing the sadness in your face made him feel guilty for letting himself behave like a teenager for hours. This was his fault after all but admitted he let his pride get the better of him. 

“Why’re you moping?”

“I’m not moping..I’m just remembering how much I enjoyed swimming and just being in the ocean.” You confessed, pouting and allowing yourself to lean on your hand. 

“I thought you didn’t regret-” 

“I don’t regret anything. I’m allowed to feel sad.” You snapped. 

He allowed silence to fill the space between the both of you for a moment before he made an anxiety-consuming decision that would definitely change everything. 

“You wanna go in?” Zoro softly asked. 

You turned to face him, surprise evident in your face. 

“That's impossible, I’ll just feel weak and sink.” You answered. 

“Not if I’m holding you.” Zoro said. 

“I thought you were avoiding me, now you wanna hold me?” You questioned back. 

“Answer my question; you want to go in yes or no?” Zoro bit back with slight annoyance at you being argumentative. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from going into a tangent, turning to look back at the water before nodding. 

From seeing your physical consent, Zoro stood up and began to strip. You visibly blushed and let your gaze turn away from him refusing to turn it into ogling. He brought himself into your line of vision as he walked forward and stepped into the water, waiting with his back turned to you at the edge to allow you privacy. You were able to see he was just left in his boxers. You stared for a bit before finding your brevity and beginning to strip until you were just in your underwear and bra. You walked a few steps forward until you stood just behind him but you hadn’t stepped in the water yet.

“Am I okay to pick you up?” Zoro cautiously asked, his back still facing you.

“y-Yeah you can.” 

Zoro turned around, pushing back his raging heartbeat and ignoring the growing heat in his skin before scooping you into his arms bridal style and slowly walking back into the lake until he was halfway submerged. You relished in the warmth of his skin and you hadn’t realised just how much you missed his presence. 

“If it gets too much for you, tell me and I’ll take you back.” Zoro’s voice almost broke. He was currently fighting back the blush that had threatened to consume his wholebeing as he avoided looking down at your naked body. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a naked woman before, heck Nami and Robin walked around the ship in practically nothing and it never once bothered him. Seeing you see this way; shy and almost vulnerable gave a completely different meaning to it. He couldn’t fathom anyone else seeing you like this and the mere idea of any man seeing you this way made his skin itch and his temper rise.  

He hadn’t even allowed himself to be consumed in the lust-filled thoughts he had of you since his recent awakening of feelings he had for you. He felt too much respect for you to subject you to his internal needs. He didn’t even know if you both even consummated the marriage before he disappeared but refused to go down the tangent of thoughts surrounding it. 

He slowly began to lower you into the water, allowing the flow of the water to cover your legs and your arms. You gasped at the sudden coolness of the water, immediately feeling the weakness of the ocean consume you. Rather than fighting the weakness, you allowed it to sit as you relished in the feeling of the cool water and Zoro’s body heat. 

“You okay?” 

“Thank you Zoro.” You quietly spoke, grateful to him. 

His concern alone was enough for you to choke on a sob. You were overwhelmed. 

“Why did you avoid me?” You weakly asked, allowing yourself to cry. 

“M’sorry.” Zoro mumbled back as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t want a sorry…I want an answer.” 

Zoro said nothing. He didn’t know how to confess his feelings to you. He couldn’t even begin to explain or know where to start with talking about what was wrong with him. Seeing you broken hurt him badly and he knew he couldn’t let this go on anymore. 

‘Show her.’ 

A small voice in his head spoke. He frowned at the intrusion of the voice. 

‘Show her how you feel.’ 

He looked down to see you looking back up at him. The yearning he felt to hold you closer, the want to be with you overtook him. 

He decided to listen to the foreign voice, putting his anxiety to one side as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

A/N: HE DID IT!!! FINALLY HE KISSED YOU AHHHHHHH 🥳 😭💚

Taglist: @starlightanyaaa @eggrollforyou @rosellerinfrost @qalable

[onepiecestarry]

A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 7

Hiii!! Sorry for not posting for a while, I've been getting ready to go back to college! Here is the next part, its a bit short (because there is a pt.2 of some smut). This series will be ending soon! But if you all request I would love to do another :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

Zoro x Reader

Part 7: A Misunderstanding

The next day was awkward, you tried multiple times to talk to Zoro but each time he shrugged you off and walked away, not letting you get a single word in. The others started to notice since you two were usually inseparable. 

“Everything okay Miss y/n?” You hear a smooth voice say. You turn to look at Sanji concerned for you. 

“Yeah,” You say looking back at Zoro working out, not averting your gaze you continue, “he just won’t let me get a word in.”

“Hah, yeah he can be like that. Did something happen between you two? You are usually always together.” He asks calmly.

“Well yes, but also no. Something happened and then he assumed the worst and when I tried to tell him otherwise he ignored me and wouldn’t let me finish. So now I’m stuck here, with him ignoring me.” You say exasperated. 

“Hmmm, I see.” He says pondering. “I think I know what happened then.”

You look at Sanji with a shocked expression. “W- Wha- How do you know?” You ask.

“Please Miss y/n, it's painfully obvious. As much as I dislike that idiot, I don’t wish unhappiness to him. And especially not to you.”

You look at Sanji with relief.

“I’ll tell you what you need to do, you need to slap the fuck out of him, and yell at him that he’s an idiot,” Sanji says while taking a puff of his cigarette. “And then, MAYBE, just maybe, kiss him.”

You laugh at Sanji’s advice and lightly push him. 

“You know what, I think I will, thank you Sanji.” You say smiling at him. You give him a hug as a thank you. 

“Gonna go start dinner now, have fun with your idiot in shining armor.” He says blankly while walking towards the kitchen. You laugh and decide to go get some chores done in the meantime.

What you didn’t notice was Zoro watching that conversation. He saw you laughing with Sanji, Sanji’s sly smile, and you gently pushing him while giggling. That was how you acted with him, not Sanji. Thoughts start to invade Zoro’s mind, about how Sanji is your crush. As Zoro is working out and thinking about this, he unknowingly starts going harder and harder until eventually, his weights break. This sound caused Robin to notice, she started walking over to him to ask what happened. But before she could even get a hello out, Zoro harshly spoke. 

“Nothing happened, everything is fine!” He loudly and angrily said.

“That’s clearly not true, maybe your weights are fine but something else is bothering you.” she calmly sat down while watching Zoro pick up the broken pieces. 

“I told you. Nothing is wrong.” He says quietly seething.

“Hmm. Where’s your shadow?” She asks very much knowing something had happened between you two.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spat. 

“Almost nothing gets you this on-edge swordsman. Did you two get into a fight perhaps?” She inquired.

“No, not a fight.” He sadly replied trying to hide his emotions on the subject. 

That was common for Zoro, instead of truly showing how he feels he covers it with anger. Because anger is easier to deal with. It's easier to be angry. 

“Hmm, well whatever it is swordsman, knowing y/n, she’s a forgiver and won’t let you brood forever. So don’t think you’ll get away from her so easily.” Robin gets up and starts walking to the kitchen.

“You think so?” Zoro asks, “Even if I fucked up?”

“Definitely,” Robin says looking back before returning to her walk. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent with both y/n and Zoro simmering on their thoughts. But this time instead of anger, it was a bit of sadness and hope for Zoro. He hoped that you would forgive him for kissing you and ignoring you. He wanted to tell you that it's okay if you like someone else and that as much as it hurts, he’ll support you. The problem was actually saying those words out loud. You however were trying to think of a plan to get him alone to tell him he’s being stupid. With how he had been acting there was no way he would actually agree to talking to you. Should you write a note? Should you drag him out by his ear? What was the most effective way?

The thoughtful afternoon slowly changed into the evening as everyone gathered for dinner. You assumed your regular spot at the table, knowing it wouldn’t happen, but hoping Zoro would take his regular seat next to you. 

To your surprise when he walked in, he continued walking to his regular spot and sat down next to you. You smiled to yourself, happy that this didn’t get taken away from you. 

Dinner went on, and everyone talked and laughed, but you and Zoro were as silent as can be. A couple of times your crewmates would try to bring you into the conversation but you would answer shortly. Then, abruptly Nami looked at you and said,

“We still need to talk about your kidnapper y/n.”

“O-oh right.” You said nervously.

Your hands quickly went to your sides as you started fiddling with your skirt. As your heart rate picked up and you started to panic, Zoro grabbed your hand gently. You slowly look up at him, and he nods. He whispers to you, 

“Do you want me to?” He asks gently.

You shake your head, “No, I need to do this.”

You lift your head back up to the rest of the table, you see everyone looking at you expectantly. 

“I guess it's about time you guys know my story.” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand. 

“What do you mean? You told us how you got to the grand line.” Brook says concerned.

“Well before that…”

You go on to tell your crew the same story you told Zoro but in much greater detail. During the particularly hard parts, Zoro made sure to hold your hand tightly, to remind you he was here with you. When you finished everyone had a shocked expression on their face.

“I- I can’t believe you went through all that y/n! You are so strong.” Nami says with a hand over her mouth.

“It truly is impressive,” Robin says looking at you. 

“Well, none of that matters! You are part of this crew now, and no one will be taking you from us. Especially not the celestial dragons. They can suck my d-”

“LUFFY!” Nami yells cutting the captain off. Everyone at the table starts to giggle. 

“But really y/n, we won’t let anything happen to you,” Frankie says smiling at you. 

The night ended with lots of support towards you, everyone letting you know they won’t let anything happen to you. You realize what it means to be a part of a crew, a part of the straw hats crew. You found your true family. 

After everyone says their goodnights, you look around for Zoro to finally talk to him. He may have held your hand during dinner but you knew better than to expect everything to just be okay after that. 

Not able to find him, you sigh in defeat and decide to return to your shared room, knowing he would probably stay up for night watch on the deck somewhere, he was probably just avoiding you again. 

To your surprise, when you opened the door you saw Zoro sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. At the noise of the door opening his head shoots up and you can see the look of dismay on his face. He gets up and starts walking towards you. 

“Look y/n, I know I fucked up, I’m really sorry. I know you and Sanji-” He rapidly says. 

You stop his rant by pulling the collar of his shirt down and kissing him. At first, he was surprised, but quickly melted into your kiss. A few seconds later, pulling away. “But, Sanji,” He says dumbly. 

“What about him Zo?” You laugh, “When I told you I had a crush on someone else I was talking about YOU, dumbass.” 

A grin on Zoro’s face grows at this comment. His posture returns as he regains his confidence, he now returns to towering over you. “Well, in that case-” He leans down while lifting your chin with his fingers. He brings you into a slow kiss.

Breaking away for a breath, he looks into your eyes and says, “I love you y/n”

“I love you Zo”

This quickly causes him to bring you back into another kiss. One kiss turns into another and eventually…

[doyou000me]

Writing Tag Game

I got tagged by @dropthedemiurge to brag and ponder about my stories, so here we go! Thank you, Lex!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? -> 16!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? -> 112,660 words~!

3. What fandoms do you write for? -> I've posted fanfics for 빈센조/Vincenzo, Kinnporsche, The Sign, My Personal Weatherman, Playboyy and Only Friends - and have fic ideas for several other fandoms that haven't gotten written (may I refer you to the WIP tag game I've answered?)

Since dropping the fandom that was, for many years, my one main fandom, I've actively worked to branch out and write for a variety of fandoms instead! Since I mainly watch K-dramas and Thai BL series, that's were most of the fanfic ideas come from!

My current focus is my original story The Author (also on Ao3), so I haven't written any fanfics for a little while.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? -> 1) Held [The Sign] 2)The Look [My Personal Weatherman] 3) Quiet Things [The Sign] 4) Gatto Sazio (The Man That Luca Knows) [Vincenzo] 5)Not Nant [Playboyy]

5. Do you respond to comments? -> Yes! I love getting comments and want my readers to know it, so I do my best to answer even tho I don't answer immediately! I do know a comment here or there slips through and goes unanswered, but I do make it my goal to try to answer all of them in due time!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? -> I don't generally write angsty endings, so I'll have to pick a fic that I don't even have on Ao3 anymore. It was a not very healthy summer romance that got ripped apart at the end.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? -> Oooh, now that's a difficult question... Probably Held or Quiet Things; Held because it's a bit longer and so I could take the characters (and readers) through more angsty bits before we got the pay off of a happy end, and Quiet Things because it's just such a short, sweet, domestic little oneshot that's good feelings throughout.

8. Do you get hate on fics? -> No, not at all! I've been lucky to get some of the most wonderful readers!

9. Do you write smut? -> I do! Most of my writing is E-rated and very smutty.

10. Do you write crossovers? -> Yeeees.... kinda.... as in, I have been on and off writing a crossover fic with Vincenzo and Kinnporsche, but I don't have any published crossovers (yet).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? -> Not that I know of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? -> Yes, a few, but none of them are on Ao3 anymore.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? -> No. I've talked with people about doing it a few times, but then inspiration decides to wander in another direction and life happens and nothing has come of it - yet!

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? -> Lucien Villamonte is my oldest story (original) that has been living in my head for almost 15 years now. I've lost count of how many times I've started writing on it, and in the meantime the story has just grown bigger and bigger. It is now this massive piece of worldbuilding and lore and intrigue, and the story stretches over decades. I love the world, and the story, and the main character Lucien, but I don't know if I'll ever actually be able to write his story and share it with the world.

15. What are your writing strengths? -> I really enjoy plotting, planning and outlining stories, so I've gotten pretty good at it! I've also been working on creating engaging writing that sucks the reader in and evoking the feelings I want the reader to experience, so those are some things I've gotten better at but want to work on further!

16. What are your writing weaknesses? -> Action scenes! First figuring out what happens and how, and then conveying that in a clear manner that doesn't stop the momentum - I find action scenes to be some of the most difficult scenes to write!

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? -> Oh, yes! I have done it, and I have read stories that do it really well, and I think it can be an incredible way to enrich a story and round out a character! That doesn't mean it's easy; there are many ways of approaching it, and I'd love to explore it further in future writing!

18. First fandom you wrote for? -> I thiiiiink the first fanfic I ever wrote was for Bleach? Or rather, I wrote a thing and then I just switched out the names of the characters to those of Bleach characters - it was Ichigo, Grimmjow and..... Renji, maybe? I don't rememeber, it's a long time ago.

19. Favourite fic you’ve written? -> Unfortunately, it's among those that I've since taken down, but among the ones that I have up on Ao3... I'm very fond of the "Luca Knows" series of oneshots I've written for Vincenzo, and of course the original story The Author that I'm currently writing is very special to me.

Now! To tagging! I'm passing this one on to @7nessasaryevils, @welcometothelairofthebitchking, @overthinkthis and @miusmusings! Hope you have fun with it!

[dawndelion-winery]

I Like You! (Not)

Alhaitham × GN! Reader

College au! Academic Rivals to Lovers

[1] - You're the Worst

Curse that damned Alhaitham and his accursed apathy. Curse him and his blunt, tactless words.

When you'd scheduled for the group to meet up at the House of Daena to rehearse the presentation, you hadn't expected Alhaitham to be so insistent on an exact timing for when the meeting would end. Assuming it was a rough estimate he needed in case he had other plans, you'd given it an approximate of an hour: meet at 6pm, and finish by 7 if all went well.

It would seem "if all went well" meant nothing to him. As you nearly tore your hair out trying to help your group mates readjust their scripts to fit the designated time limits, you noticed Alhaitham already all packed up and ready to go.

"Alhaitham? Are you in a rush to get somewhere? We've still got a bit to fix up." You asked.

"I'm going home. You said we'd be done by seven." He replied matter-of-factly, as though you should have known he'd up and leave at seven sharp.

"Do you already have other plans? We're almost done." You smiled tensely, waiting for his excuse. As it was, he hadn't done anything outside his own allocated part, with which there was nothing wrong, but with how the whole group kept badgering you for help, it would have been nice for him to chip in since his grades were on par with yours.

"Whether I have prior plans has nothing to do with this, I only agreed to stay till seven. If you're almost done, you'll manage to finish soon enough even without me. Goodbye." How quickly he turned in his heel, not sparing so much as a backwards glance as he exited the building.

You groaned in exhaustion when you finally made it home yourself. Your dorm room was a quaint little space for yourself, with the privilege of no roommates to squander the space with. You're not sure why you were so frustrated. Despite having never worked with Alhaitham yourself, you'd heard enough from fellow classmates to know he never concerned himself with anything more than he agreed to do. You knew there was nothing wrong with it, but it didn't quite sit right with you. Could he be any more selfish or unconcerned with people other than himself?

Thinking back to all the times at the beginning of your freshman year when you'd tried to strike up conversation with him and discuss interpretations of various texts and translations, you recalled how uninterested he'd been, with his curt replies and unwillingness to share his own insights. Did he think you weren't worth debating with? You recalled how demeaned you'd felt as he looked at you with those cold, detached eyes that never gazed upon the present even as you animatedly poured your heart into your opinions. How horrible of him.

You often wondered what it would take to get under his skin the way he so effortlessly did to you. For every all nighter you pulled to perfect your work and earn your 'A's, he'd have an early bedtime and well rested sleep to obtain the same result. It was infuriating, to say the least. If you could only see him drowning in his own thoughts and anxiety the way everyone else did, you'd be content struggling through your Akademiya days.

"Have you tried asking him out?" Kunimitsu hummed as he picked at your onion rings, not-so-sneakily swiping your side dish in exchange for listening to your rants.

"Asking him out? Did you not hear a word I said? Kuni, I can't stand the guy!" You huffed, groaning so gutterally you'd scare a zombie back into their grave.

"And? It's not like you'd have to go out with him. Look at him. From everything I've seen and heard of him, the dude sounds like a total virgin, a self-absorbed nerd. I'll bet you he'll scoff and say no but the thought of someone being into his dweeb ass is going to stew and ping around in his cavernous skull like an electro seelie."

Kunimitsu shrugged as he finished off your last onion ring. Though you scorned his idea, it's not like you'd any better ones of your own. Surely...it wouldn't hurt to try? Besides, who would he tell about it? His friends? Hah.

Taglist: @vernith

[project-821]

DAY 2/821

DAY 2

(Again I'm not a writer and English is not my first language so I do apologies for any grammatical errors)

Someone followed and 2 people liked, my fear of being perceived almost made me delete this entire thing. But now I have to continue it, since I am now obligated to do this until the very end, I hate unfinished stories and I wouldn't want to end up as one. Since the audience even if it's just one person can't be left with a permanent cliffhanger.

The devil couldn't reach me so he decided to give me passion without talent. I love many things one of them being art, I love all forms of art but my favorites have always been literature, music, and visual art.

I do not have talent in any of these fields despite having the passion.  This project will be a ailment for this though as I've decided to challenge myself by learning some of these things particularly literature in the form of languages, as I have always loved the idea of being able to explore culture through it's native language. Although I know it is possible to do this to in English, I am aware a lot does get lost in translation. I've decided to focus on Chinese and French in the meantime and expand overtime. Another one would be visual arts, I made a study plan that would help me acquire the basics of drawing, currently I am still learning lines and basic shapes.

Update on my day

Today I woke up at around 1am and couldn't go back to sleep till my unusual waking hour of 3am and before you call me crazy I do get enough sleep, my bedtime is at 7-8 pm. I do this to torture myself cause I get that 3am motivation to change my life every time I wake up so it has significantly helped me stop procrastinating and be a little more productive. I just don't wanna do anything when the sun is up idk why... But since I woke up earlier than usual I just did some of my school work till around 9am, but I slept pretty late last night at around 11pm so I was still kinda tired so I took a nap till 1 pm.  But overall I don't think I got enough done today, but I did get started on learning Chinese, I decided on learning both Pinyin and Zhuyin cause why not. On another note I still haven't finished learning art like I ended off with just practicing line work, its been like 3 days since I last visited that.  those are some of the goals I planed on achieving. Overall I think my day went pretty basic nothing interesting really happened and at some point I just got lazy and watched YouTube.

Lore 

My depression at some point got so bad, I basically stopped taking care of myself like the longest I went without brushing my teeth was 4 months(I brushed them today though 😔). Oh and my room had black mold and a bunch on spiders.

Blog: https://821project.blogspot.com/2025/04/day-2821.html

[moongurl95]

7 Times the Charm

GN!MC / May or may not be an alternate version of a long fic I'm working on, but I've hit a writing rut and this prompt by @serpensortiamaxima (this is dedicated to you too OP!) got me churning out this piece until 4AM (now i can sleep with my brain empty! XD) also divider credits here

Summary: It was no secret that the Three Broomsticks can also be considered a social gathering for the latest news, and Sirona Ryan, the owner was at the neck of it. Or, a glimpse of a blooming relationship she'd observed since that Troll Attack in Hogsmeade. (One-shot also posted on AO3)

“Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen before.” This may be the first time Sirona Ryan’s memory seemed to have failed her as she was confident in remembering her clientele.

“It’s my first time here.” The student had replied almost sheepishly, which explained everything to the bar owner. Of course, she’d heard about the latest talk in the streets of a Hogwarts student having been caught in a dragon attack.

“Welcome! Butterbeers on me.” Sirona assumed that the student was a transferee, after all, she’d never heard of a student starting this late in their Hogwarts education. “Glad to see you two escape injury.” She glanced between the two students with growing worry, having planned to check on the other shopkeepers and residents once the crowd had buzzed down from the recent Troll Attack in Hogsmeade.

“Thanks to this one. Single-handedly took down a Troll!”

“Is that right? Well done.” Of course Sirona couldn’t take the Sallow boy’s claim seriously, not when she was sure of the way the boy had looked admiringly at his new classmate. Before she could decide to play matchmaker however, they were interrupted by some brutes’ arrival.

The second time Sirona next saw the pair was on a relatively calm day in the Three Broomsticks, she considered herself not eavesdropping at all while the two students had quite the passionate discussion over a round of Butterbeer.

“Honestly! Why do you have to trouble yourself on a trip to get something for my sister? Anne wrote she’d be delighted by your very presence alone.”

“Because Sebastian, it’s common courtesy to bring a gift when visiting your friend’s family.”

Now this seemed to be a development. Sirona had to keep herself looking busy as she wiped away at the mugs on the counter, casting a knowing glance by the corner table to quickly spy the flustered look on the Sallow boy’s face.

Sirona could only hope to Merlin that his ‘friend’ fancied him the way he seemed to.

In exchange for asking her assistance on where to find her friend, Lodgok, Sirona in turn thought to request the new student’s help in retrieving her box of letters. Though she never would have predicted they’d also come as a pair this third time around.

“I’m not letting you go alone. And for Merlin’s sake, why a mine of all places? Do you happen to know what sort of creatures could possibly live there??”

Sirona could only watch in amusement as the Sallow boy was being pushed out by his classmate in an attempt to shush him, “Alright, alright – I’ll tell you all about it on the way. Just get going so we can at least finish this while there’s still sun out.”

The door to the Three Broomsticks had shut after their departure so Sirona could only guess how the rest of their day would go. One thing was for sure though, if she’d initially thought the Sallow boy only fancied his new friend before, then now Sirona was absolutely certain the boy was now smitten.

Maybe there was good reason to owl Mirabel after all, nothing better than an entertaining chat about young love over tea.

The next time Sirona served Butterbeer to the new student at the counter, she was half expecting them to be with a familiar face. Instead, they sat alone, looking quite under the weather as they seemed to stare unseeing into the tankard, Sirona was just about ready to lend a listening ear after she’d served all the other customers’ orders when the student had stood up just as a familiar Slytherin entered the premises.

Sirona was quick to notice the two of them weren’t on speaking terms as they passed by each other – the Sallow boy taking the stool beside where his friend just left. She chose to quietly serve him his share of Butterbeer before she continued to keep busy.

“Sirona, would you apologize if you said something… true but ended up sounding… mean?”

So that was how it was… “Well dear, first of all, it’s not what you said, but how you made them feel. So yes, an apology should be expected.”

“But… how?”

Sirona raised an eyebrow at him as if to say the answer should be obvious enough, but ended up sighing in exasperation as the boy looked pitifully at a lost, “If you aren’t ready to tell them personally, then a letter might suffice, and don’t make it just a simple apology either – at least, offer to take them somewhere you’d think would be meaningful to them.”

“A letter! That’s just it, of course!” Sirona watched as the boy waved his hand in thanks as he rushed out the doors, she hoped everything would turn up for the better the next time she saw those two together.

It didn’t however, for just days before the 5th, Sirona herself had received an unmarked letter notifying her of Lodgok’s passing – his gentle soul did not deserve the fate he was dealt with by his brother’s hands. Yet also here in her supposedly lively pub, sat another lost soul who she dearly tried to keep from straying to the Hog’s Head by keeping the Sallow boy’s tankard refilled with Butterbeer.

She’d heard he just lost his uncle and that the Sallow girl also informed him late, the poor twins were now left all alone.

And just when Sirona felt the boy slipping away, from the doors came in a face who she hoped would be successful in reeling Sallow from his darkest thoughts.

“Sebastian!”

Sirona was glad to see the boy encased in a hug, he dearly looked like he needed one…

“You’re safe now. I promise, I wouldn’t let them take you away.”

It may have well been a secret language only the two students shared with each other, but Sirona was nonetheless relieved to see the boy’s shoulders relax, the undeniable soft sob that escaped him was a sound that would forever tug at her heart.

And it seemed that heart wrenching sob echoed around the wooden panels of her establishment as the once lively pub was filled with students of varying years, all of which ranged from sniffling for their parents to a quiet uncertainty that loomed over the older ones.

Hogwarts was under attack, and despite how Sirona herself could not believe such a situation would even come about, the evacuated students who took shelter in the Three Broomsticks were enough to leave her unsettled for what was to come.

“Sirona! Are they here? Did they at least stop by here?” She could only shake her head in response, clearly seeing the Sallow boy was distraught.

“Sebastian! We have to settle ourselves and wait for Black’s announcement –“

“They could still be there, Ominis!” His next words were barely audible but somehow Sirona managed to catch a hint of it, “What if they’re fighting for their lives – alone? Against a Goblin Rebellion!”

“Attention, students!” Black did make an announcement right after that, clearing his throat as if today was a normal occurrence, “I am proud to announce that my esteemed faculty has handled the – uhm… rebellion. Yes, the Goblin rebellion – wait, what was that?”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as a House Elf seemed to whisper the latest news to his master, who gasped out as if he was scandalized, “A casualty you say???”

Sirona felt her heart drop at the sudden news, she could only watch as Sebastian Sallow all but rushed out of the doors, fearing for the worst.

Fear melted like snow from a season past, and while Spring came a bit too late for those who grieved, the flowers still bloomed.

The Three Broomsticks was once again abuzz with an energy of celebration and nostalgia – students crowded with relief at having survived their O.W.L.s and others were busy planning their summer ahead – two of which Sirona couldn’t help but approach, “Butterbeers on me, to the Hero of Hogwarts.” She’d winked before leaving the pair in their usual spot by the counter, not really meaning to overhear…

“So… I heard Fig left you a place in his will, back to London it is for you then?”

“Yes… and Feldcroft?”

“Can’t say I relish the thought of spending summer by myself, but I have a way to keep busy by doing some odd errands here and there, I suppose.”

“What would you say to a ticket to London?”

“What..?”

“I was only really planning to spend a few weeks there, fix some things that need to be done and well… spend some time in Feldcroft with you… if you’ll have me?”

“Of course! I – but why even take me to London – not that I’m complaining but –“

“Because I care, Sebastian. I – care about you… very much.”

Sirona couldn’t keep herself from spying a glance then, very happy to see the pair both sporting flustered faces. It may have taken a while, but there wasn’t a perfect time than any to start anew.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I've been putting off posting this for literally no reason. Anyway, here's a continuation of my Friendly Fire prompt from October. I can't promise when more will be posted for this, since I'm working on 5 different stories simultaneously. But I do have the scene when Geoff and Layne meet back up for the first time since the incident in the prompt.

Title: Can You Survive 7 Days? (this one actually has a title) word count: 2,192

~-~-~

Geoff woke with a gasp. He was alive. How? He'd looked down the barrel of a gun. Layne shot him. Why would he-? Geoff shouldn't be alive. He couldn't have survived a point black shot to the head. Realizations started to settle. But if Layne killed him how was he here. Alive. He blinked up at the evening sky between the tree branches. Wait... Slowly, he sat up. He's laying under a tree. But... he was just at a gas station. With Layne. How was he suddenly here? And where was here? What the hell was happening?

With a bit of a headache, Geoff looked around. He spotted a backpack sitting against the tree. He frowned as he noticed something. There was a patch on the top half of the backpack that had his name on it. That's weird. Layne had one exactly like it, just with his name on it instead. Geoff stared at the bag, trying to work out what was going on...

~ ~ ~

He'd woke up to find that he was the only one home. Which was already strange since he'd woken up the same time he usually did. But neither Kathy or his son were there. What made the situation even stranger was that he couldn't find his phone. Geoff searched all over the house. Nothing was out of place other than his missing phone. Which meant he couldn't even call her to find out where she went since their vehicle was gone. His only option was to wait.

When he went to start up his computer, it wouldn't boot up properly. He ended up giving up on that and made some breakfast. Geoff kept an eye on the clock. When he was almost finished cooking something dawned on him. It was unusually quiet. Not a single sound from outside. No cars driving by, no people, and no animals. Even the birds had quieted. Once his breakfast was done, he looked around for his phone again, though no luck, then sat down to eat. Maybe he'll check in with the neighbors when he was done. See if they knew why it was so quiet out.

It was well after nine and he was really getting worried. There was still no sign of Kathy. Still unusually quiet outside. And he still couldn't find his phone or get his computer working. He figured it was time for that walk. Grabbing his keys, Geoff locked up as he stepped outside. As he walked down the sidewalk, he looked around. Nothing seemed strange. Just quiet. He stepped up to his neighbors door and knocked. Silence greeted him. Geoff tried once more, just for the sake of trying. Then turned and kept walking down the sidewalk. Once he'll reach the end of the block he'll turn around.

The entire walk there and back was in silence. No traffic. No sounds of people at all. Something was definitely wrong. It was like everyone just up and left. As he started up to his house, Geoff stopped. That's not right. This wasn't his home. He looked to the neighbors house. That was their house. Looking around to the other houses. Everything was right. Except his house was wrong. Hesitantly, he stepped up to the door and tried the key. It didn't work. He heart pounded. This was where he lived. Where his house was supposed to be. There was no way he could have this wrong.

Geoff walked back down the sidewalk. Then turned and walked the other way. Something was very, very wrong. What was happening? Then he stopped. Maybe nothing was wrong. What if this was some vivid, lucid dream. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. If you know you're dreaming you can just wake yourself up, right? Geoff tried to clear his head and stood quietly for a moment. Hoping that would work. Unfortunately it didn't. When he opened his eyes nothing had changed. Except one thing. A distance ahead of him someone was walking. Well, it looked more like they were dragging their feet a bit.

He started walking towards them. “Hello!? Excuse me!” Geoff called out as he got closer. The person grunted and turned around. Geoff froze. A chill ran down his back. He knew more than enough about apocalyptic scenarios to know what that was. As he took a step back, Geoff realized that, no, this wasn't a dream. It was an absolute nightmare. The zombie groaned as it approached him. Turning, Geoff ran back down the street. He sure as hell hoped he'd wake up from this soon.

~ ~ ~

It's now the evening on the second day of all this starting. And, if he assumed this was all one big, long, nightmare, it seemed dying didn't wake him from it either. And most of the time he didn't even think that it was a nightmare since it was so vivid. Felt real. But this couldn't be real... Geoff died. Was killed by his friend. But he wasn't dead. Or undead. He was just... alive again.

He had no idea where the backpack came from, but, assuming he was going to be dealing with this situation for awhile, dream or no dream, it would be useful to have. Though a bit hesitant, Geoff grabbed the backpack and opened it up. He hadn't expected anything to be in it. So, he was a little surprised to find a cooking pan and a bottle of water. Pulling the water bottle out, he tucked it into the side pouch of the backpack before closing it back up and, as he stood up, pulled it on his back. It was getting late. He'd better find somewhere to hide out for the night.

~ - ~ - ~

When Layne had woken that morning, everything seemed normal. At first. He'd assumed Cyndi had simply gotten up before him. As he went to get up he reached for his phone, only to find it not on the bedside table. Weird. He'd been sure he left it there last night when he'd gone to bed. Probably forgot it by his computer. Picking out some clothes for the day, Layne stepped into their en-suite bathroom to get washed up and dressed.

After he left his bedroom the first sign of something being wrong hit him. It was too quiet. No one was in the living room or kitchen. Layne checked out the window. Their cars were still there so no one left. “Cyndi?” he called out. There was no response. A pang of worry rose in his chest. But he tried to shove it down. Maybe she was with one of the girls? Careful not to wake anyone if his daughters were still asleep, he started to check the bedrooms. After the first two were empty of occupants, he couldn't ignore the worry any longer.

Though once he realized the bedrooms were all empty, Layne called out for his family. Each of them. Then it hit him. His phone. He could call them. Running to his home office he checked his desk, then the floor in case it fell. It wasn't there. He hurried back to his bedroom to make sure he hadn't missed it. He hadn't. The living room? Kitchen maybe? No and no.

Okay. Stop and think for a minute. Maybe he somehow left his phone at the studio? No, he was sure he'd used it after he got home. Layne shook his head. He could figure that out later. Maybe drive down to Pattycake. He was the only one home, so did they leave a note? Taking another lap around the house told him that no, they didn't. Was there some event or something that they were going to that he'd forgotten about? But weren't all their cars still here? Layne checked outside again. They were. Maybe they got picked up?

He just had to find his phone. Then he could call Cyndi. Or even one of his girls. Grabbing his keys he started to the door but stopped and went to check once more around the house in case he missed it in his panic. No luck. He scribbled out a note saying he was going to PattyCake Studios and left it by the door in case they got back before he did. Then he left, locking the door on his way out. Layne stopped when he got to his car. He walked past it and checked their backyard before heading back and getting in the drivers seat.

Before he left he searched his car but found no sign of his phone. Starting his vehicle, he pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the expressway leading to Oviedo. Normally, he would consider this sort of reaction a bit extreme. But something told him, a gut feeling, that something was very wrong. And he realized pretty quick that it was right. There were no other cars out driving. There were a few parked on the side of the road but no one was in them. Then, suddenly, his car seemed to stall and coast to a stop. Glancing down to his gas gauge, he saw it on empty. “There's no way it's empty. It was at three quarters yesterday.”

Layne let out a sigh as he rested his head on the steering wheel. He was going to have to walk all the way back home. At least he didn't turn off on the expressway yet. It was already a chaotic morning. With all the strangeness going on, to none of which he had answers, he didn't even want to think about anything else that could go wrong. Then he jumped at the sudden bang on his window. He looked over. Then froze. His heart pounding as he stared at what was there. “No way…” As he looked over toward the passenger side he unbuckled his seat belt. There were more. Shuffling towards his car.

There was no way he'd be able to clamor over to the passenger side and get out before the zombies reached his car. The sound of the window splintering brought his attention back to his side. He was running out of time. There was only one on his side. So, there was a chance at least. Reaching for the door handle, Layne prepared to open it. He took a breath, then shoved it open as hard as he could pushing the zombie back a couple steps. Scrambling out of his car, he turned to run but felt fingers grip onto his sleeve. He panicked and yanked free before running back down the road. Layne had thought he felt something graze against his ankle as he got out of his car, but he had no intention of looking back to see what it was. He just ran.

~ ~ ~

His body ached when he came to. As he opened his eyes, Layne lifted a hand and rested it on his abdomen where the worst of the pain was. He stared up at the darkening sky. It will go away soon. Or at least it did last time. But he didn't have long. It was going to be nighttime soon. And he learned the hard way that the zombies were more dangerous at night. Taking a breath, then slowly released it, Layne sat up and looked around. He was alone. In the middle of nowhere. Though he spotted his backpack a few feet away.

Geoff... He did come back. Right? If he didn't he wouldn't have disappeared. He wouldn't have... But, there was no way to know for sure. This was the first time he'd been there when someone else died so he had no idea what it looked like. How it worked. He just had to wait and see if they met up again.

But if he didn't he had himself to blame. If he didn't... that meant... Layne shut his eyes and swallowed. He didn't want to think of what that would mean. If he did he'd most definitely have a break-down. It was bad enough that he was already regretting his decision. It was just, in that moment, he couldn't let Geoff die by that thing. It is a horrible way to die. Excruciatingly painful. What he did was quick and- Layne shook his head and reached over for the backpack. He had to stop thinking about it.

Opening the backpack, he looked to see what there was. If there was anything new. Other then what was in there when he dug through it earlier, he did find something new. A bottle of water and more bullets. Which he found a little annoying since the handgun was gone. “Of course I have more now,” he muttered. Layne zipped the bag back up and, pushing himself to his feet, slung the bag on his back.

So, he was once again weaponless. He'd have to be careful unless he wanted another gruesome death. Looking around, he squinted through the darkness trying to see if there were any buildings in the distance. Unfortunately, there were none. He let out a sigh. “Well, time to start hiking...” After choosing a direction, Layne started walking.

[roguekhajiit]

Something that I simultaneously love and hate the most about being a rural mail carrier is that you're always alone.

This morning, I received a call from a customer who said he never received a package I had delivered yesterday. I checked the shelves, looked up his tracking number, and saw that the package was scanned at the time I was at his stop. I then told him I would look for his package today.

Now, 90% of my route is comprised of CBU (cluster box unit) banks. Was it possible I accidentally misread the address on his package for a similar one in a dyslexic moment? Yes. I never rule out that possibility. But I know I have dyslexia. It's something I've dealt with since I was a grade schooler, and it's why I carefully read each address.

Maybe a minute after I arrive at his stop, and halfway through the CBUs, a large black pickup truck pulls up directly behind my vehicle. Being a rural mail carrier, I rarely, if ever, see my customers face to face. But my instincts tell me that this is the guy I spoke with on the phone early this morning.

Something to note here:

As a contracted rural mail carrier, I drive my own personal vehicle and don't wear a uniform. There is no way to tell from a distance that I'm a mail carrier, and there are no markings identifying my car as a mail vehicle. I look just like any of the other hundreds of cars on the highway.

This guy lives a mile and a half down the road from where his box is located. There is no other way to get to his house, no alternate routes out from his road. Yet, he pulled up right behind my vehicle from the highway. Almost as if he was driving around looking for me.

Having spent 7 years working retail, I immediately go into customer service mode and ask, "Hi, how may I help you?"

He stands a foot away from me and says, "I'm here to see about my package." Nothing wrong with that sentence itself, but there was just something sinister in his tone, and the way he held himself immediately made my skin crawl and put my nerves on edge.

I told him I wasn't done yet, and I hadn't gotten to his CBU yet. But he continues to stand there, unmoving, staring at me. He doesn't go back to his truck until a kind old lady pulls up in her little car. But he still refuses to get back in his truck. Instead, he pretends to be busy with something on his phone all while still watching my every move.

As I was working, I was checking every box and paying attention to those who lived on his street or had similar house numbers as his. None of them had checked their mail since before yesterday, and none of them had received any parcels.

After I finished with his CBU, I had to tell him. "Your package isn't here." But I get the feeling he already knew that. It was in the way he had spoken to me when he first got there.

"Well, what are you going to do about it then," he asks me, his arms crossed and staring down at my five foot, nothing AFAB self.

"Nothing at the moment," I tell him. "We can wait and see if one of your neighbors mistakenly received it and turns it in, or you can report it as missing." Now, I'm neuro-divergent, and my tone during this entire interaction has been flat, neutral, and matter-of-fact. It's my default tone when speaking.

But he starts getting agitated, "So, you're not gonna admit that you lost it?!"

No? Why would I? We don't know that it's lost, his neighbors haven't checked their mail, and at this point, I'm 75% sure he's lying so he can get a refund on whatever he purchased. The other 25% is he either lost it or another member of his household checked the mail before he did and just didn't tell him. But I don't speak those thoughts out loud.

He kept pressing for me to admit that I was the one who lost his package. He's following me as I walk around my vehicle and refusing to leave. All the while, the kind old lady is still in her car watching and listening to this all play out.

His behavior has long since crossed the line into harassment and I tell him this. "I have not!" He says, "I've been standing over here minding my own business. I just want to know what you plan to do about my package!"

So I tell him, "Nothing. You can call the postmaster. Now, go about your day."

He then calls me a fucking bitch, hops in his truck and slams the door, speeding off.

If it wasn't for the fact that that lady was there for all of it, I'm certain he would have tried to escalate things further.

[emotional-support-demon-crowley]

Hello there

I really hope that you're having a great day and taking care of yourself. (Hugs)

Here are some requests for the ask game:

1 for "Is not that Strange?" (Newt or Anathema perspective, perhaps?); 2; 3; 7; 16; 17; 23; 28; 35: Are you working on anything at the moment?

Hello! I'm happy the weekend is here and I have plans to enjoy it. I hope you're doing well! Thank you so much for the lovely asks.

1. Write a scene from 'Is Not That Strange?' in Newt or Anathema's POV:

In the interest of time, I promise I will answer this, I've already got some ideas, but I'll need to slot it into my writing schedule, so it'll take me a hot minute. I'll reblog this post with the results when it's done.

2. Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

'Unfallen' is always going to have a very special place in my heart specifically because I didn't believe I could finish a story until I managed to write that one. Nothing else would have been possible if 'Unfallen' hadn't rattled around in my brain demanding to be let out.

After that, I think either 'Terminus' because I was really happy with how it came together and how well it was received, or 'Is Not That Strange?' for being something that was both playing with tropes but also new and interesting for me.

3. What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

So in checking on the answer for this one, I've had to come to terms (yet again) with the fact that I am really shit at tags. But here's some sort of an answer:

Mind Manipulation - when I first started out, most of my stories had some sort of memory shenanigans

Crowley Forgets Aziraphale in self-defense - this is entirely due to my post-season 2 series since each entry gets tagged with it

Fluff/Mostly Fluff - I've found that any time I dip a toe in angst I need to write an excess of fluff to reset my brain chemistry

7. Coffee or tea while you write?

Mountain Dew when I write, almost exclusively.

I do like tea but I tend to drink it at work where I can get it for free.

I'll drink coffee, but I like my coffee like I like my alcohol - I don't want to taste the base ingredient.

16. What do you struggle with most when writing?

The easy answer is focus. I have raging ADHD and whenever the words aren't flowing easily, my brain is seeking easier sources for dopamine without checking in with me first. To help avoid that, I do things like setting my phone out of reach and opening my writing in a separate window so I don't see all the other tabs with their notification counts, which... helps some.

There are parts of the actual writing that I feel like I'm not as skilled at as others, but I wouldn't call those struggles. They're just things that I'm working on challenging myself to improve.

17. What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

This might seem odd, but I'm actually really proud of the fact that I'm taking the wonderful editing I get from @mythosandsuch and carrying his suggestions forward into my first draft work. Basically, as he's taken up the job of helping improve my stories, I noticed trends with some of his feedback. Specifically, there were things that I was doing pretty consistently and by working on changing those habits both in the first draft process and in my initial editing, it's making my writing stronger.

I know from experience that editing can be a really hard job and I will forever be grateful for the time and effort that @mythosandsuch puts into making my writing shine.

Seriously, beyond the regular mundane editing and invaluable feedback, at least once a chapter he finds a very silly mistake that I'm grateful got caught before the posting stage.

23. What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

This is tough. I fall in and out of interest with stories in a way that I have almost no control over. I have small scene ideas that are really gripping, but if I haven't fleshed out a whole outline around it yet, the idea as a whole doesn't really get under my skin and demand to be written.

I have a time travel story that has some interesting elements. There's a vampire AU that I've been poking at an outline for, but the final battle and resolution is too vague for me to lock in on it. Truthfully, I have a bunch of folders of ideas and whenever I finish something I go poking around hoping one of them will catch my eye.

28. What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

I had one where Crowley was an incorporeal spirit who was drawn to places where people were about to die, but he had almost no ability to save them, which was such a horrible way to exist that he thought it must be some sort of punishment. No one who isn't deceased ever saw him until he met Aziraphale because someone was stabbed behind the bookshop. Since Aziraphale can see him, he convinces Crowley to let him help him try to save people. Crowley is hesitant from the start and though they do manage to save some of the people together. But as Crowley feared, Aziraphale ends up in harms way and badly injured a few times in the process. At one point, Aziraphale is hurt so bad it seems like he might die and he believes maybe this is a way they can finally be together. That was not the resolution of the situation because Crowley has been keeping secrets about who he used to be...

There was more to it than that, but the whole story was just angst and pining all the way down. Plus, you know, unknown strangers in mortal peril. I started writing the first chapter, but there really wasn't room for the type of humor I like to have in my stories and when I realized how far into the negative emotions I would need to wade to finish it, I concluded it would make me miserable to try to write it.

35. Are you working on anything at the moment?

I am! None of my big ideas caught my attention when I sat down to write again after I finished posting my last fic, so I decided to knock out the next entry in my series 'Till the Hurting is Done'. I figured those are usually a few thousand words, I could easily finish it in a few days-a couple of weeks at most! Now I'm watching the word count confidently approaching the 20k mark. But I'm happy to follow where the story needs to go.

In the series as a whole, after Season 2, Crowley decided to pull a Jim and get rid of his memories. He just decided to only forget the ones that included Aziraphale specifically. Problem is, the outcome is a little less stable than Crowley expected. In one of the earlier entries, Warlock showed up and Anthony, the name he prefers post memory dump, doesn't recognize the boy, but feels a strong desire to try to help him.

In the entry I'm working on now, Warlock has returned to Whickber Street. He's ready to accept the offer of help because he can't stop thinking about the man who is the spitting image of the nanny who disappeared with the family gardener the night before Warlock's eleventh birthday.

--

My thanks again for taking the time to engage. I enjoy taking a little break to write about my process. And I will get you the scene you requested as soon as I can.