#or something like that. they are called ROBE afterall

[angrybatart]

Suddenly realized I like drawing the Robe. Is this a continuation to the comic? Maybe. Maybe not.

[yallthemwitches]

Simple Math

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.Written for Jily Week 2024, Day 1: Hair

Thank you @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee for hosting the event :) AO3 Link Here

Remus walked his way to McGonagall’s office feeling every footfall as he went. He was already knackered from the full moon earlier that week, but on top of things Sirius and Peter had thrown a bender the night before, importing as much contraband firewhiskey they could supply in order to turn the Gryffindor common room into a disco dance hall. 

Their prefect meeting couldn't be helped, if not now transformed into its own mode of punishment as it was McGonagall herself who had to break up the party, padding her way into the common room in her night robes. Even Sirius cowered as she laid eyes on her very own Head Boy and Girl in the middle of the dance floor grinding away like it was some wizarding Studio 54. 

Remus lit a cigarette and took a few drags as he approached the second floor. A group of prefects stood idly by the door, talking amongst themselves and looking rather irritated. 

“All right?” Remus called to Cornelia, a Hufflepuff prefect who was eyeing the door with frustration.

“The door’s locked—that or it’s been enchanted, I think everyone has given a go at unlocking it.”

Remus pulled out his wand and did a half hearted flourish. Alohomora

Instead of the lock popping open, a sound that resembled a muggle game show buzzer went off. 

Remus snuffed out his cigarette.

“D’you know if Lily and James have arrived yet?” He asked.

“I haven’t seen them, but Trevor said he saw them at breakfast. They told him they had to prepare some things before the meeting.”

Uh huh. 

Remus sighed deeply. 

“Alright then, uh, can everyone just humor me and stand back for a second.” All of the younger prefects who had nervously crowded the door moved without hesitation. 

Bombarda. The young prefects instinctively covered their ears and faces, expecting the door to blast open. Instead, the door remained very much intact, instead making the same buzzing noise as before. 

Ah christ. The other prefects started to whisper. He heard a fourth year asking someone if they should be worried about a death eater attack. While Remus could admit that that would be certainly worse, he still wasn’t too pleased with what was actually happening. 

There was some scuffling noise behind the door and the prefect’s chatter dissipated. The door lurched open and James stood in the doorway. 

“Oi, Which one of you is trying to destroy Hogwarts’ property?” he barked out. Behind him, Lily was already leaning on McGonagall's desk. 

“I realize that punctuality is key around these circles, but patience is a virtue,” James tutted, opening the door further to let the stream of prefects enter. 

Remus gave James a one over. His hair was messy–ok that's a given, but his shirt was looking rather creased. It stuck out of his pants in a clearly haphazard attempt to tuck in. To an untrained eye, this wouldn’t be so suspicious—James was often looking a bit rugged when he came to class. 

The real tip off was Lily. Even as the prefects took their seats, she ran her hand through her hair, attempting to smooth the ruffled parts. Her uniform was unbuttoned two buttons lower than her usual fit, and her tie looked off kilter. 

It was simple math really, but perhaps because Remus was feeling charitable, he assumed better for the Head Boy and Girl. Afterall, he had first-hand witnessed the two at the party last night, a couple fire whiskeys deep and not shying away from the powdery muggle drug that Sirius was passing through the crowd. (“When I do a themed party, Moony, I do the fuck out of it”) 

Remus sat in the front row and watched James join Lily at the front of the classroom. James started off with the newest patrol round schedules, while Lily continued to comb at her hair, catching little knots and picking them apart with her fingers. Her eyes focused on James’ speaking with such intensity, Remus felt like he was witnessing something private. Her mouth parted a bit and Remus took note that her lips were looking more plump and swollen than usual….

They must be bloody fucking joking.

Remus tried to focus instead on James who was garbling his way through the most boring information imaginable. On second inspection, his hair was sticking out much farther than usual—not in the way that resembled getting off his broomstick, but rather like if someone stood over him and tugged furiously upwards. James turned to Lily who had been maintaining her gaze, all the while still attempting to tame her hair. He stumbled a bit on his words; then miraculously forgot what he was saying entirely. 

Of all days, they picked the one where he was too hungover to even enjoy their embarrassment. 

After the meeting, Remus didn’t even wait for Lily and James. He went straight back to the boys’ dorm and threw himself on his bed. A muffled groan came in the direction of Sirius’ bed. 

“What time is it mate?” Sirius sounded completely wrecked. 

“Almost noon.”

“Merlin’s tits. That was some party. I feel like death.”

The door opened and James entered and collapsed on his bed, face first, his glasses skewed on his face. 

“Fuck yes. Bed,” he spoke into the mattress.

“How was your meeting, darling,” Sirius cooed at James, still appearing comatose from his own bed.

Remus found his in. “Don’t worry, he had a real swell time. Our noble Head Boy and Girl made sure to be perfectly satisfied before their meeting.”

Sirius’ head shot up from the pillow. “Woah Woah, Jamsie….you know better than to shag on the job tsk tsk.” 

James propped himself up on his arms. “What were we supposed to do? The whole tower was crawling with people last night. Can’t a loving couple get thie—”

Sirius threw a pillow at James' head, which James was too hungover to dodge. “You looked pretty well taken care of while dancing last night. Half expected you both to just lay right down and go at it in front of everyone.”

James mumbled something sounding like a half-hearted dissent. From the other side of the room Peter’s cracked voice spoke up.

“I heard them in here too…I came up here to sleep and they forgot to close the curtains…”

James made a loud groan. 

“I hope you're proud of yourself,” Sirius tutted, mimicking James’ mom’s tone.

There was a silence. 

“---Was it really that obvious—at the meeting I mean?”

Remus lit a cigarette and leaned back.

“James, let me put it this way. I know exactly where your hands have been from the look of Lily’s hair alone.”

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Successful Wedding (Failed proposal part 2)

Azriel x f!Reader

Part 2 of Failed proposal

Warnings; angry Nesta, swearing

Masterlist.

You asked for a part 2! Hope you enjoy it!

Clear night sky, a warm breeze and the city of starlight. You thanked the Mother for the weather and sat in front of the mirror dressed in a grey robe. You were currently in the River house getting ready for your wedding.

“No!” Nesta shouted “I told you to put stardust on the roses.” Silence “I don’t care go find some”.

She entered your room with a huff, and you glanced at Mor’s reflection who was doing your hair. Both of you started biting your cheeks to suppress the giggles.

“Those idiots!” she exclaimed.

“Calm down Ness, I don’t care about stardust. As long as Azriel and all of you are there the wedding will be perfect” you smiled.

“No! You didn’t get to enjoy the mating ceremony or the days after it and, we destroyed the proposal. This wedding will be perfect!” She huffed.

“Okay get out you will make the bride nervous” Mor waived goodbye at Nesta but sighed when Feyre burst in.

“Nesta I need you to terrorize Cassian, he is trying to steady the arch and he is destroying it.” “I’ll fucking kill him. Who let him out of the cell?” She growled and you flinched.

Poor Cassian. You thought.

“He started whining about not seeing his brother getting married and about how the thought broke his heart and Azriel fell for it.” Feyre explained and offered a tight smile.

“Illyrian idiots” Nesta mumbled before marching out. “50 bucks Cassian won’t be at the wedding” Mor shouted.

“Make that 100” Feyre responded and followed her eldest sister.

“Mor… do you think that everything will be okay? I fear that something is going to ruin the wedding too and I don’t mean the arch or the flowers… something bigger.” You sighed and stared at your friend.

“Oh sweetie no, everything will be fine. We will have the time of our lives.” She smiled reassuringly.

“I hope so” you mumbled and stared at your reflection.

  ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Call your shadows back” Rhysand scolded “Let the girls handle everything, you and y/n need to relax. It’s your day afterall.”

“I just want everything to be perfect” Azriel sighed and paced in his room.

“Don’t worry brother, Nesta can handle everything” Rhys smirked.

“That’s what worries me” Azriel frowned “She might actually kill someone and ruin the decoration with the blood.”

Both of them started laughing and Azriel felt calmer.

“No no Ness I’m sorry” Cassian’s voice boomed through the halls making them furrow their eyebrows. The door slammed open and Nesta walked in dragging Cassian by his ear.

“Lock him somewhere, put a leash on him I don’t care but if I find him again in the garden touching the decorations, I will take y/n and leave.” She stomped her foot to make a point and left with a huff. Both males stared at their brother with quirked brows.

“I’m sorry I just wanted to make sure that the arch wouldn’t drop on your heads” Cassian said sheepishly.

“Don’t make me lock you in the cell” Azriel growled and picked his suit.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Time for the dress” Mor exclaimed after putting the silver circlet on your head and setting the crescent moon between your brows. It was the same color as Azriel’s siphons, and you smiled before slowly caressing it with your finger.

Mor helped you into the dress and you stared your reflection in awe.

It was a white ball gown silhouette dress with small crystals that made you look like you were floating around the stars. It had a deep V neckline that showed off your tattoos and highlighted your breasts.

“It’s perfect” you gasped.

“You are perfect” Mor smiled, and you heard two more gasps.

Feyre and Nesta were standing under the door frame wide-eyed.

“You look amazing” Nesta wiped a tear while Feyre nodded with her jaw dropped.

“Thank you” you smiled.

You took a deep breath and let the girls lead you downstairs where some priestess waited and started chanting the moment they saw you. Your friends sent you kisses and hurried off outside to take their seats.

You walked in the middle of the four priestesses and started walking outside, their chanting got louder as you moved closer to your mate. Azriel was dressed in a black suit looking more handsome than ever, the first two buttons of his shirt were undone showing off his toned torso. He looked like he was created by the night and stars, and you blushed at the thought of taking off his suit.

The shadowsinger scanned your silhouette and his breath hitched. You could see a rosy shade appearing on his cheeks and his shadows darted to you, slithering around your dress and caressing your cheek. Once you approached your mate Nyx stumbled between the two of you offering to you your wedding bouquet. You giggled at the sight of the little bat dressed in a suit and crouched taking the bouquet and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. He smiled shyly and ran back to his mom shout-whispering “I did it!”.

Azriel chuckled at the little boy and stretched his arm to you.

“You look mesmerizing” he smiled softly and kissed the back of your palm. “Likewise” you muttered coyly, and his smile grew.

Gwyn grinned and started chanting, her eyes turning white and her voice louder at each prayer.

“Cauldron strengthen this union, Mother bless their love. Bless them with happiness and fortune. Bless their bed and future seed. May all the gods be by their side new and forgotten.” She finished the prayers and picked the wedding bands giving one to Azriel and one to you.

“I vow to always love you, protect you and honor you. I vow to be gentle and understanding and make your days lighter till death do us apart.” Azriel spoke and placed the ring on your finger.

“I vow to be by your side in sickness and in health, to love and cherish you. I vow to be the light in your darkness and protect you from any harm till death do us apart.” You said and placed the ring on his finger. “Mother bless you” Gwyn shouted, and all your friends started whistling and clapping.

Azriel cupped your jaw and leaned in capturing your lips with his own and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you angel” he breathed into the kiss.

“I love you hubby” you giggled making him chuckle too.

You walked to your friends with huge smiles on your faces. “I heard that in mortal lands you throw the bouquet and the female who catches it is the next in line?” you quirked a brow and Feyre nodded. “Oh okay. Nesta catch” you shouted and threw the bouquet at her. She caught it and stared at you wide-eyed, Cassian poked her waist, and she spun around noticing her mate on one knee.

You couldn’t hear what he said to her but suddenly she burst into tears and hugged him tightly shouting yes again and again. Cassian gave her the ring and they both smiled at you thankfully. “Congratulations” you cheered.

You spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing with your friends. At some point you were all so drunk that you ran around the streets of Velaris singing and dancing and enjoying the cheers of the passing by faeries once they noticed your wedding dress.

Azriel grabbed you by the waist once you reached the main square and pressed you against his body. “My wife” he mumbled and kissed you passionately while your friends danced around you.

“Our perfect wedding” you whispered and let the happy tears escape.

I think you needed this after Scattered vows :)

Dedicated to the people who asked for part 2;

@mulansaucey , @natashachelsea

[slippinninque]

🖇️Special Directives 💼

You get a sudden promotion

Lloyd Hansen x BlackFemReader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ cursing, Lloyd being Lloyd, frazzled!reader, power imbalance (boss/assistant), soft!dark!Lloyd, looong fic, mentions of sex, maybe some mistakes (secret-at work-post 🫣)

This was bad. It was really bad.

You followed your boss's every move, barely tasting the orange juice you sipped. It felt like waking up in a mirror-verse with the way Lloyd was carrying on.

You'd think he wouldn't know how to turn on the stove or be willing to use a spatula with how bougie he could be, but he still managed to surprise you in your years-long commitment.

Lloyd caught you trying to sneak out of the suite in nothing but the silk robe you treated yourself to when the jet first touched down.

Lloyd wrestled you into a chair and swapped your robe for his. He kissed the top of your head and resumed making breakfast as if his ass wasn't hanging out from the bottom of a silken cherry-blossom setting.

No issue for him, of course.

No. You had all the issues, as usual, leaving him to focus fully on being a menace to his full capacity. That's literally what Mr. Charmichal told you when he hired you himself to be Lloyd Hansen's personal assistance out of his own staff.

"Whatever you do, just don't fuck him."

Which should an easy feat as the man was 6'foot-something of mayhem and violent tendencies. You made it work.

The pay was more than good for someone with nowhere else to go. You pressed forward with spite. Kept up with impossible demands, managed to be at hand, and whittled down your boundaries to basically nothing.

You asked for nothing more than to do your job. Which included the schedule.

There was lines never to be crossed. Knocking down an exclusive seating arrangement for a last-minute booty call was abhorrent. Even for a professional sociopath.

That one little adjustment sent all your other hard work into the toilet. Consultations, dinner reservations, promised appearances--askew. Some never to appear again for months.

It happened so fast. You were pissed that he had the nerve to even touch his schedule when you finally had everything squared away for the next two weeks.

You touched down in Paris and were ushered into waiting vans. Ride to the base, swanky hotel from what you could peep before you were ushered into the pent house along with your luggage.

You found out about the tampered calendar when you were unpacking and when you called Lloyd, you were sent to voicemail.

Fucking voicemail.

Just when you were about to start blowing his phone up, the fucker appeared at the front door of your suite and asked why hadn't his luggage been unpacked yet.

It got worse when he brushed off your concerns in favor to be an absolute man-child and throwing a tantrum when his date cancelled on him a for strep throat. It explains why he ditched his room for yours.

The anger of being ran ragged in such a beautiful place, being told to make Lloyd a drink as he didn't 'feel like walking down to the bar'. As if you wouldn't spend the rest of the day unpacking you both.

The horniness of being unlaid for nearly 2 years because you just didn't have the time and there was Lloyd talking up under your clothes as if you were trash.

You snapped.

It was one thing to defy and talk back to your boss, he liked that shit. You suspected your mouth is what kept you alive this long, afterall.

It was another to get physical with him.

And lord did ya’ll get physical.

Which brings you back to yourself. What the fuck did you do?

As Lloyd whistled and strutted around the kitchen space, your handy work was visible from there you sat. His normally polished appearance was nowhere to be seen. Hair ruffled and waved, hanging about his face and he didn't seem so....puffed up.

With all that aside, there was Lloyd Hansen barefoot and making you breakfast.

“We need to talk, Mr. Hansen.”

“Oh and we will, Buttercup,” Lloyd purred as he came over a plate heavy with delicious food, “But first, how ‘bout we put something in that sweet little tummy of yours.”

You watched him as he watched you. His eyes were crinkled and blue, sparkling as you took a deep breath.

“I quit.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do—don’t do this. I crossed a line last night, I shouldn't have done that to you."

You gasped when he fluttered your robe, showcasing a nasty bite mark right over his left nipple. A hand reached out but you snatched it back, head reeling as the memory washed over you.

“Play hard to get all you want, too late for shit now.” He grinned wolfishly at you, "You made me all yours."

"That was a mistake!" You blurted before reeling it in at the sight of his brows raising, "All I'm saying, sir, is that this is not a good idea to continue on any further. So...I think it's best for me to, uh..."

Lloyd's tongue poked through his cheek and his stare was steady.

You rolled your eyes down to your food. Fluffy pancakes and stripes of crispy bacon, vibrant cheese eggs and even some chopped fruit. You delicately bit into a juicy strawberry, the sudden taste shocking your stomach into hunger.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Hansen--

Lloyd groaned and leaned back into his chair, “Don’t tell me we’re back to that, sweetcheeks! Call me what you called me last night, won’t you?”

Heat flushed through you but you began cutting into your pancakes to give your hands something to do.

“I called you a lot of things last night, Mr. Hansen. Some more derogatory than others…which only proves my point of this being very inappropriate.”

“My personal favorite was--

“Sir.”

He surprisingly, shut his mouth though the chesire grin remained. You were stunned. Only last week he casually threatened to string you up by the hair when his coffee courier was late.

Now he cooked you pancakes and was...and was…

“What is it exactly that you’re thinking about,” your curiosity ran over your protocol, “Honestly. Nothing like this has never…came up?”

Lloyd tilted his head at you and leaned forward a bit as if to tell you a secret, “Had a little epiphany while I was visiting heaven last night, a moment of realization!”

"Sir--"

"You take such good care of me, don't you? Aside from the boring shit like dry cleaning and dental appointments--now I real a wonderful reason to promote you!"

"A...promotion, sir? For being inappropriate?"

"For that lil' slice of Eden you got squeezed down there! Naughty girl, you're supposed to tell me about all your talents."

You felt your brow pop up before you can stop it.

"What am I being promoted to exactly?"

Lloyd clapped his hands and spread out his arms as if a confetti cannon would follow, "Congrats, baby, you've been promoted to being my lady!"

Silence. You stared at him, your plate, the ceiling and then back to him. Lloyd sat back and crossed his legs as if he were waiting for your celebration. Instead, you rubbed your forehead in an attempt to restart your brain.

"You can't --thats not a thing. That's not a thing, Mr. Hansen."

"Oh, it's a thing alright. A pretty little thing, a soft and tasty thing that I'm not gonna let go of. So, time to lay down some new ground rules."

Too fast, too fast--reel it in...

You held up your hands and gentled your tone, "I'm not your type, Mr. Hansen. So what am I going to do when it gets boring for you? Why spend all that time building your play book with those very beautiful and very qualified ladies?"

Lloyd waved the thought away and appeared a piece of bacon,"Dissolve it. It was gettin' stale anyway."

"Dissol--these ladies are not in a band! They have contacts stronger than concrete! Do you know how long it took me to figure out a fair rotation for them all?"

"Aw, I'm shocked you care! Shouldn't you be happy that you have it all to yourself now?"

"I care about my job, Mr. Hansen. Which is why we shouldn't engage any further if I want to do it correctly."

Lloyd held up a finger to stop you from going further,

"All I'm adding are a few more duties to your ledger, no biggie. Think of them as...special directives. Just a few more ways to properly take care of your old man, that's all..."

You closed your eyes to reign in the thoughts spinning in your head. Lloyd was being serious as he listed a fresh list of ridiculous demands.

He was being 1,000 % serious about you being his. You options cowered in your mind because they all knew they didn't mean shit to the hungry-eyed man before you.

Still, you had to try. As you unfolded and folded your unused lap napkin, you stood slowly from the table.

"Again, very flattered, um. I'm going to submit my little resignation letter thing to Mr. Charmicheal so you won't even have to worry about it..."

Lloyd stood from the table with enough force that the silverware startled. You were caught before you could bolt. Lloyd pulled you to be skin to skin.

"Cut the shit, Sweetcheeks. I'll make it clear for you to understand."

He smooshed your cheeks together and gave you an obnoxious kiss, making you whine.

"I am all you have, Little Ms. Perfect. You made it that way. You injected me in every aspect of your boring little life." He spoke in a familiar tone then, confident if not a little mocking as he looked down at you.

"I see you can't be without me," Lloyd pressed your foreheads together as he took a deep breath, "You think I can allow any men to be around you? They won't know how to handle you. I won't let them to learn."

"Mr. Hansen, please."

"Mmnh. Definitely don't want anyone hearing that from you." Lloyd's kiss was soft to your cheek, unmoving despite your pushing against his chest.

"I won't let them learn how good you smell when you're melted and warm. Or how you cry for it when you don't get your way..."

You squirmed and snapped, "I was sensitive..."

Lloyd sat you back down into your seat and then knelt down, being close enough that your thighs remained parted. He gave a dreamy look to your pussy before looking up at you, taking one of your hands to rub his cheek.

"There it is," he purred, "Underneath all that 'no, Mr. Hansen' and 'what about protocol, Mr. Hansen' is the needy little thing that gnawed me to the bone. Too afraid of having fun..."

He let you snatch your hand away to cover your face, only using his free hands to run fingers across and down your thighs. Oh God, why was it working? His tone, it was too much like the spiced tone he had while neatly folding your legs behind your head.

It made you feel buzzy under your skin. Lloyd hands went from your thighs tapping a lazy beat down to your knees, his eyes skimming the exposed line of skin from your untied robe as he continued listing the new "directives".

You had off days and off hours now. Massages were to be provided once a day, rather the every-other-day routine that was established. You were to provide his stylist with your measurements and be on the watch for a bank card to be used for your upkeep.

By the time he was finished listing all of the changes coming your way, his hands worked you up into a trembling mess.

"I found clarity right here," Lloyd parted the fabric of the robe that covered your pussy and your hands went to his shoulders. Confusion melted with arousal as he stared between your legs. The more he touched you and the more of his voice fell over you, a tone he's never used with you...

It was too late, wasn't it?

The walls were down. Gone. Decimated the moment he touched you. The writing was on the wall, now. Bigger and louder than any flattery that was coming from his mouth.

There was only none thing to do...

"Fine. I accept the position, Mr. Hansen." You tested your luck and put a hand over his mouth when he went to speak. Lloyds eyes flashed, but smiled at you as he waited.

"I have some conditions of my own. I would like a promised transfer to a department of my choice when you get bored."

He rolled his eyes and shook you off, a new wave of energy thrumming as he registered his victory.

"Yeah, sure, fine." He rushed as he readjusted to sit back on his haunches, "Can I have some now?"

Unreal. You snorted, the humor of the situation rearing it's head. The flames were already licking at your feet, why not jump into the whole thing?

Putting your legs on top of his shoulders, your heart hammered as you relaxed fully into the chair. Allowing a nipple to peer out to say hello to her newest, biggest fan as you purred.

"You can if you put the schedule back the way I had it."

Lloyd's expression smoothed and before you could save yourself, you were picked up and spread out on the table. Yelping as a few dishes fell and shattered, you changed your mind and snapped the robe around you tight.

"Wait, slow down!"

Lloyd wrestled with the robe tangled about you and you didn't help, flailing a leg and pushing at him to scoot further up the table. The racket was insane but the thrill of a new deal crawled up your spine.

Maybe it was the lingering hangover or maybe it was the sight of Lloyd in a teeny ooo-wow-wow robe as he hunted for pussy like a madman. Either way, giggles spilled out of you and Lloyd huffed a laugh of his own.

"Keep it up, Chuckles." Lloyd licked his lips as he finally found your center, "I'll have you in stitches when I'm done with you."

"Not every sexy to say, Mr. Hansen, don't like it."

He paused his descent to glower at you, "Getting real sick of that Mr. Hansen shit."

"You'll be Lloyd it's appropriate to be Lloyd." You sniffed, bringing up your legs to bracket around him. His hackles lowered and he hummed, opening your robe to find a beautiful brown center.

His stare was electric, reaching down to part your wettned petals and savoring your mewl.

"You got it all wrong, Sweetcheeks. I'm shootin' for Daddy..."

His smile was downright devilish before he began putting you to work...

-----

Waking to the sound of thunder, you stared up at the ceiling for a while.

You were feeling a bit... better about the arrangement.

Lloyd was still asleep and you took in his slack face. He snored softly in his sleep, fingers twitching every so often where they held onto the thigh you threw across him in your slumber.

Strange. You didn't know he snored.

Your eyes lingered on those lips and recalled the promises and coaxing that fell from them. You bit them cherry red and you can still hear how he moaned under you, pressing your hand into the bite mark on his chest and coming undone.

You'll give it to him, Lloyd was a generous lover. Overly generous if anything, but it was a problem you didn't mind having.

After wriggling free, you went to the bathroom to freshen up and take inventory of the dark-berry hickirs and bruises left in Lloyd's wake.

We're in it now, girl.

Your reflection smiled wryly back. You were done as soon as you accepted a position with Hansen Government Services.

Lloyd was sitting up in bed when you returned, cracking an eye open to give you an appreciative one over before shifting back down into the bed. Had he waited for you to return?

"Order something if you're hungry but right now, it's time to play pillow."

Doing as you were told and going back to bed, you wriggled under him as much as you could before he swept you fully into his arms.

It was still surreal. To have this man hanging off of you and kneading what he could reach like a favored plushie. Beneath the haze of pleasure, your mind wandered to all the ways you could make this work.

"Don't forget, we have brunch in few hours--

You could absolutely spin this. The grin spread across your face as the possibilities of your situation unfurled.

Lloyd hushed you pulled until you were fully beneath him. Back to ceiling watching, you felt him begin to relax. You ran a hand up and down his back, feeling the welts and thinking of the aloe you stashed in your personal care kit.

"Aht, aht, pillows don't talk..."

Sleep waved at the edges of your vision and you felt yourself being pulled down further, as always, right alongside with Mr. Hansen.

-------

ending notes: pheeeeew this was fun and scary to do! I think I need more time to get a hold of my Lloyd, but I'm gonna do more of these!! This one may need an edit, lmao Drop a comment and reblog, tell me what you think and thank you so much for reading!! 🙏🏾😊💝

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma@ellethespaceunicorn

[murkycran]

Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List! :D

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Radiostatic Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

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Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

Summary: A shortage of suppressants in Hell means that Vox is going to be enduring a heat for the first time in years. Who better than the Vees' resident pimp to help him through it? Afterall, the last thing they need is for someone to complicate the situation with "feelings" and Val was the best at keeping love and lust separate. Until now.

TLDR; Valentino plays himself.

Notes: SO FUCKING FUNNY. Cannot read this in public bc I laughed too much. Val and Vox are both idiots. Perhaps the most human depiction of them that I've seen, especially during sex. Neither of them are suave or coordinated, but by god are they trying.

system takeover by Subedarling

Summary: Velvette has never been the type to play hero. But when a mysterious new player enacts a dangerous plot to usurp the Vees' power, taking her two idiots hostage in the process, that's exactly where she finds herself. Now she has no choice but to go on an impromptu rescue mission, maintain the facade that everything is fine to the outside world, and prove why she's the backbone of the Vees—and she hasn't even had her morning coffee yet.

Vox and Val are going to owe her so hard after this.

Notes: Technically Velvette-centric but I'm including it anyway bc it does have Staticmoth; found family. She's so badass in this, I love it. The Staticmoth is very sweet. :3

even if i quit there's not a chance in hell i'd stop by Subedarling

Summary: Valentino stretches his arms over his head as he enters the kitchen, yawning. His robe is hanging loosely around him, and God, if Vox were to run his hand down his chest he could probably count all his ribs. He stops short when he sees the plates waiting for him on the counter. His eyes narrow. “The hell is this?”

“You know, most people would say thank you when their partner makes them breakfast,” Vox says dryly.

Notes: Very tender. A good kind of hurt. Deals with ED.

Parvulus by Heliosolar

Summary: Vox woke up to something... unusual. Terrifying, even. He calls Valentino, desperate for the help.

Valentino is, of course, irresponsible, and Vox is exhausted.

He just wanted to get through the day like normal, why did this have to happen?

Notes: Written before season 1. The art of Tiny Vox is not linked, but I've seen it before and it is SO CUTE. If anyone has a link, please share with me so I can link it here!

A Wager of Desire by Heliosolar

Summary: Valentino and Vox have a small dispute over something meaningless, so they make a bet.

Vox has to last an entire dinner while at Valentino's mercy.

What could go wrong?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. One of the first Staticmoth fics I read. :)

Venenum by Heliosolar

Summary: During an uneventful meeting, Vox makes the mistake of stealing a drink from Valentino.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Getting Railed (By Child Support) by Charnel_Goat, spappest

Summary: The female of several species can store sperm for many years prior to using it to fertilize her eggs. As it turns out, spider trains do this too.

Decades after their romantic fallout, Overlord Choo Choo Charles is knocking on Val's door to demand he take responsibility for the results. By way of kidnapping his boyfriend to lure him to his den.

Notes: One of the crackiest fics I've ever read. Vox is an idiot with a horrible sense of self-preservation and Val fucks a spider train without birth control. Just...read it, okay? I literally cannot think about this fic without giggling like an idiot every time.

Beautiful Monster by IceBlueButterfly

Summary: “You’re late,” is the first thing that comes out of Vox’s mouth.

That sharp smile somehow grows wider.

“I believe the term is ‘fashionably late’ baby,” a smooth voice with a light Spanish accent replies.

Which… okay if Vox is being honest, is kind of hot.

Screen heating up a little more, Vox shoots a bored look.

“Or just late,” he snips back. “Oh well,” he claps his hands. “Doesn’t matter, you ready to get down to business?”

“Oh baby,” a bright gleam in even brighter eyes, “I’m always ready to get down.”

Vox is already regretting this decision.

OR Moments in time throughout Vox and Val's relationship. Vox may have no idea what the moth demon will bring to his life, but neither does Val.

Notes: A very nice exploration of how Vox and Valentino's relationship evolves.

Only a Shadow by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox shows up on the hotel’s doorstep with no memory of how he got there or who he is. They agree to house and heal him, and slowly but surely he finds joy in becoming better. Then Valentino shows up and is forced to choose between self-altering addiction and the closest he’s ever come to love.

Meanwhile, Velvette has a new potion brewing, one that will grant her more power than the Vees ever had. Only Vox and Val can stop her, but will goodness really overcome evil? Or will they be only a shadow of their former selves?

Notes: The Voxval is currently toxic and only just now being touched on in Chapter 9 of the fic; I say 'currently' because the author explains in the AN of the first chapter that both Vox and Val will go through some "self-discovery and healing". Seriously, just read it. It's very good!!

You Found Me by passthevoxcord

Summary: Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Notes: Includes some interesting headcanons for Vox and Val.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

Notes: Surprisingly sweet. ^_^

Muted by passthevoxcord

Summary: Val helps a nonverbal Vox deal with sensory overload.

Notes: Sweet and tender. :)

Freaky Friday by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox and Val wake up stuck in the other’s body, but it’s no big deal because they both know how easy the other has it. Right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Sweet take on the different challenges Vox and Val face in their daily lives.

Something Akin To Love Series by Awesome_Possum

Summary: Vox's taste in partners is delightfully self-destructive and that's an itch Valentino is more than happy to scratch.

It's not safe or sane, and whether or not it's technically consensual is heavily up to interpretation, but what they have is probably something akin to love.

A collection of StaticMoth fics set in generally the same continuity.

Valentino is awful and Vox is unfortunately really really into that because a control freak in the streets is a masochist in the sheets.

Notes: Has 2 parts, both very much worth reading. Very funny, lol. Vox is in a hell of his own making but enjoying it at the same time.

Update Prescription by innerfray

Summary: Vox tricks Valentino into getting his eyes checked. They're forced to confront the nature of their partnership.

Notes: One of my favorite Staticmoth oneshots. Felt like an interesting take on Val's blindness. Angst so good...

Like Moth to a Flame (Or to a Bright Blue Screen) by datweirdo

Summary: Valentino is a moth after all

Notes: Cute and funny!!! "You fucking murdered him" lmao

30 Decibels by Shortsighted_Owl

Summary: Somewhere, under the low humming of the monitors, the quiet gurgling of replacement coolant being piped into Vox body, a new noise - dry, yet somehow viscerally wet, and so very soft - made itself known, but only just.

And Valentino almost missed it. - After a fight with Alastor, Valentino watches vigil over Vox’s broken form.

(What if Vox still has organic vocal cords, and after a fight with Alastor, the synthesiser he uses to amplify his voice is destroyed. What if Valentino hears Vox’s real voice for the first time?)

Notes: Heed the tags, there is in fact body horror lol. Sweet but mildly horrific. <3

Priest, mailman, cruise captain or chef? by Destabilize

Summary: Inspired by Vox's outfits in Stayed Gone - Val and Vox try out some kinky stuff with a priest outfit, to mixed success.

Ah ha!” Val squealed with delight, wine glass drained and thrown on a sofa, “This!” Val was standing proudly by the wardrobe holding up a long red robe with a hat and some kind of sash. Vox scowled, “Is that a fucking priest outfit?”

“Si! Isn’t it fun- it’s in your colors too!”

“You wanna be a priest?”

“No baby! You be a priest and I can,” Val sidled up and leaned down, puffing some smoke in Vox’s face, snaking an arm around his waist, “lead you astray...”

Notes: Surprisingly cute and funny! Vox fails epically at roleplay and it is hilarious.

riding out the drop by spoondrifts

Summary: Like he’d said before, killing Alastor was Vox’s kink, not his. He had been prepared to sit back and enjoy the temporary chaos until Vox got over himself.

What he hadn’t accounted for was the possibility that Vox was exactly as obsessive, bitter, and desperate for Alastor’s acknowledgement now as he had been seven years ago. Distance hadn’t made the heart grow fonder: distance had made a highly detailed revenge scrapbook complete with a conspiracy corkboard done up in red string.

Or: Valentino gets fed up with Vox's fixation on the radio demon. They fuck about it.

Notes: Features (sex favorable) asexual!Vox! :D (I lowkey headcanon him as ace ever since the "better than sex" comment)

Featherstone by spoondrifts

Summary: “To me,” Vox told the baby, “it seems like bad parenting to leave your helpless kid for a whole month with two unstable psychopaths and their parole officer. But hey. Who am I to judge.”

No intelligent reply was forthcoming.

Or: not-so accidental baby acquisition, starring the three least responsible idiots this side of the Pentagram.

Notes: Big Vees as family vibes. Wish so desperately this was canon.

vark attack by tarltonnnnn

Summary: Valentino has to petsit Vark for a day. Chaos ensues.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Vark is a big dumb (and very cute) baby.

Unplugged by pinkpunchy

Summary: Vox looks like he’s going to vomit. Valentino frowns.

“For the one who suggested this, you’re being a real pussy.”

“Fuck you! Just give me a sec.” Vox spits out, muttering darkly as he adjusts his shoulders on the pillows, trying to arrange his body for the moment he loses all function. Valentino, despite his impulsive nature, waits patiently. His manicured nails drag along the spot where cable and port connect, thumb smoothing up and down the flat surface surrounding it. Vox’s breath is coming faster now, not slower, something Valentino is tuned into as naturally as his own breathing.

“Hey.”

A large hand grasps a corner of Vox’s screen, tilting it up and putting an immediate stop to his fidgeting. Valentino smiles, red eyes narrowed to slits.

“Do you trust me?”

Notes: Sex as a...trust exercise? Lol I'm joking, but seriously. Sweet and hot at the same time.

Electric Desires: Lust, Power, and Unspoken Longings in Hell by Dani69696969

Summary: Vox is starting to get fed up with Angel Dust being the only thing Val talks about when Vox is right there, ripe for the taking. Inspired by Vox looking happy that Angel might have quit in Episode 2.

Notes: Very sweet. Plot with porn. :)

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose

Summary: Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Notes: Vox's jealousy and possessiveness really brings out his stalker side in this lmao. Vox is a little pathetic and that makes his jealousy all the more funny to me. :D

Welcome to VoxTek Enterprises! by MarenRose

Summary: Subsequently, Valentino, of all people, has become the office’s saving grace.

(A series of VoxVal ficlets through the eyes of Vox’s assistant)

Notes: Pretty funny! Vox's assistants are really going through it. One of the tags is "Imagine being happy to see Valentino" lol.

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[catalyst-sys]

I get a kick out of the idea of a combat doll running face to face with a horror monster. A malevolent spirit. A serial killer that has never been stopped. Something otherworldly, unnatural, alien even.

The Witch would be out, right place and right time. Maybe she’s called out on assignment, hired by the goons of the neighborhood or even the local authorities.

“You’re a Witch, can you help us? People keep going missing,”

The Witch does this shit for fun. She has no need for a reward, but will gladly accept one if it exists. Whether she means the reward or threat, it’s never sure.

The Witch walks along a Japanese turnpike.

She feels the presence first before hearing it. “Have you seen my daughter?!” The woman… thats not an apt description… but the Witch’s words fail her for the first time.

“I cant say I have…” the Witch whispers.

“PLEASE WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!” The Witch would have wiped the spittle from her face, if the woman wasn’t pinning her arms to her side, a deathgrip that the Witch was certain she would feel tomorrow still. “Yeah, i think… i saw… her that way…” fear held the Witch’s voice in her throat.

The woman… crazed, drenched in blood thst wasnt hers. The Witch immediately pivoted and started walk, as quick as she could down the road, the complete opposite direction of where the woman ran.

It only took a few steps before the Witch heard a blood curdling scream that filled the Witch’s veins with ice. “SHES NOT HERE.”

The Witch braved a look and saw the woman… in a dead sprint towards her. Hands, or were they claws?

The Witch pulled out a cigarette and tutt’d to herself, “Looks like you do exist,” she whispers, her cig held between her lips as she pats her robe for a lighter.

Each step the spirit took towards the Witch, each heart beat that echoed in the Witch’s ear drum. The Witch sighed and announced, “Sex kick?” As if asking reality around her.

In a blink of an eye, an explosion of a jet thruster shattered any glass within a 5 kilometer radius as a doll appeared, its foot lodged in the spirit’s face.

The spirit gets launched into a nearby tree off the turnpike as quick as the doll appeared. The doll immediately held up a lighter of its own for the cigarette. “Thanks,” the Witch says to her doll, her breath shaky.

“Yes milady… Milady! You are wounded!” The doll held its hands up, dare to not touch the vicious marks on its Witch’s arms.

“No no, im fine, sex ki-“ the Witch couldnt speak fast enough, clearly not fine, shaken to her core.

The doll’s thrusters flared once more as it dove into the spirit with reinvigorated Purpose. “SPIRIT! You have wounded milady! Have at thee!”

Whelp. They probably weren’t getting that reward if they were going to have to pay for the damages the doll was going to cause.

Afterall, you can’t harm a doll’s Witch, and expect to exist after~

[iamsherlocked1479]

Heal

Dr Strange x Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

Descriprion: Why is stepen wearing those silly yellow gloves?

Word count: 1.5K

He told you to stay in the sanctum, his exact words where “i can only trust you, it won't be long, then you can go back to your training.” You lied in the spear room of New York's sanctum, he was called out to a mission. Doctor Strange that was, the man who had been assigned your group at kamar taj, since wong was now sorcerer supreme you guessed he was trying to help his friend socialise more. But unfortunately he had just grunted and groaned as he unwillingly taught your class mostly showing up late each lesson. He must have felt that you had the same emotions towards human contact because he had asked you of all peopl to baby sit his sanctum while the avengers pulled him away to some “space shit” as he called it.

You sighed and rolled off the bed and wandered the empty halls. It was nice enough, but gave huge haunted mansion bibes, you wandered past the only closed door and curiosity had got the better of you, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do afterall. And now you stood in his bedroom, it felt wrong like you might has well have just walked in on him naked. His room was pretty average, the bed messy with pillows all over the place. He must have gotten up in a rush. His ipad screen blinked in as you walked past, highlighting what he was looking at, it was an x-ray of some pretty messed up hands, “he must have been reminiscing on an old case” you thought.

You scoffed at the sight of him having an ensuite, you had to walk all the way downstairs and practically the otherside of the sanctum while he was sitting up here all high and mighty with a shower that stayed the same temperature for more than three seconds. You snooped around in his bathroom, like his bedroom it was fairly average. You opened the cupboard above his sink, you were surprised to see the endless amounts of sleeping pills, each box stacked neatly on top of the other, part of you felt sorry for him, something obviously kept him very awake at night and judging by the different brands he hadn’t found anything that could keep him asleep at night. You walked out of the bathroom feeling guilty, it was obvious he didn’t want you in here, this was the part of Stephen only he knew and now you felt like you had violated that. 

You walked past the dresser stopping to pick up the broken watch placed neatly in the centre, he obviously hadn’t had time to fix it. You almost added to the smashed face when the sound of cluttering echoed down the halls, the sounds of something falling off a shelf startling you out of the room. You closed the door softly and walked to the noise to find Stephen in front of a mirror cursing with a bloody face.

“Everything alright?” You called out as you walked down the stairs 

“What?” He looked at you and his brow raised slightly at the sight in your pyjamas, he hadn’t seen you in shorts that small before “oh it's you, yeah, uh thanks for looking after the place. Did i wake you?”

“No i uh, couldn’t sleep” you suddenly felt conscious that you were in minimal clothing and did your best to pull your t-shirt down. You looked as he seemingly ignored your presence again and grunted as he tried to pick up the shattered mirror shards.

“You know it would be easier if you took off those gloves to pick them up” you pointed out as he struggled to grip the shards.

“Trust me it wouldn’t.” He grunted again

“You’re hurt.” You said walking over to the mess

“Im fine” he said

“Let me help.” You bent down and began picking up the mirror 

“I don't need your help i- arghh.” He gripped his side and winced

“You’re hurt” you gripped his forearm and pulled him up towards a chair and slumped him into it.

“You know i used to be a doctor-“ he watched as you used your basic sorcery to summon a med kit

“Yea i know, but i’ve never seen a doctor fix themself.” You say undoing his top robes

“At least buy me a drink first.” He said sarcastically as you looked up at him unamused, applying slightly too much pressure on his wound causing him to wince slightly.

“Just sit still, you’re also late. You said you wouldn’t be long, that was a week ago.” You said as you began cleaning his wound.

“Yeah well time is different in space, are you using the alcohol wipes?” He said watching you work

“Sure, stop trying to doctor me, I know what I'm doing, this is gonna need stitches.” You say opening up his robes more to reveal the gash across his chest.

“I can do it” he begins to get up and you stop him

“You couldn’t pick that glass up, you can’t stitch yourself up.” He winces slightly as you slide the needle through his flesh. “It would help if you took those off” you referenced the bright yellow gloves he wore which were now stained with drooplets of bronze blood.

“No, keep them on.” He clenched his fists “I don’t need a reminder of my failures.” He said, you paused slightly

“What failures could the infamous Doctor Strange possibly have.” You said tieing the last stitch.

“You’d be surprised” he huffed, you noticed the growing blood stains on his gloves.

“Can i atleast sort your hands out? They're clearly injured and it's not good to keep them in gloves like this.” You say as you hold his hands in yours

“No” he pulls away “they’ll be fine.”

“Stephen” your brow furrowed “let me see” he didn’t fight anymore as you gently pulled off the yellow gloves, you tried your best not to look shocked as his hands were uncovered revealing the large scars.

“Not what you were expecting?” He looked away ashamed and retracted his hands from yours

“Stephen-“

“No i get it,” he cut you off “let me guess you’re so sorry” he looked at you.

“Yes but” you looked at him and he gave you that dumb ‘i was right look’ “stop being a baby and let me sort out your hands.” You grabbed them a little rougher than necessary but he got the message and gave a little chuckle in compliance.

“Not squeamish then?” He said as you rand the the cloth over his scared fingers

“I don't judge people by their scars, you shouldn’t have to wear gloves though. Kamar-taj is a place of forgiveness, i doubt people would care about a few scars.” You dabbed his hand as he sighed

“I would, i mean i do.” He watched you work as he continued “it's just a reminder of everything i’ve lost, my work chris-“ he stopped 

“So what? Think of what you’ve gained.” You looked up at him and could’ve sworn his eyes were growing red from a build of tears “Stephen, you’ve achieved so much in the short time you’ve been here, you shouldn’t dwell on the past. If you do, it will haunt you forever.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, you took a moment to really look into his eyes, all you could see was him, the real him, he wasn’t stubborn or selfish. He was sensitive and guilt ridden.

He looked in your eyes and for the first time in a long time he saw hope, hope that maybe his life wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. He cleared his throat snapping the two of you out of your trance 

“Right, well you’re all patched up” you got up and cleared away the bloodstained wipes. 

“Thank you, for this and watching the sanctum.” He got up brushing himself off. “I uh, i'm going to get some sleep.” 

“Yeah, you need it.” You joked as he walked away.

You didn’t see him for a few days, you had made your way back to kamar-taj and had managed to catch up with the lessons you had missed. Then finally you saw him, you were walking to a class when his voice echoed from the garden, there he stood with master Wong and he waved at you. You smiled as you saw his gloveless hands, his sling ring finally fitting on his hands without the gloves causing it to be too tight. And that made you smile, to see that finally he had let someone talk some sense into that ego.

And when he saw you, he just saw it again, hope.

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A/N: Hey guys, wow its been so long, I hope you enjoyed this, t was getting difficult to right smut as it always ends up being the same and i'm never happy wth the results, so I thought I woukd switch it up a little and write some fluff. I've always wondered why they gave Stephen those yellow gloves in Ragnarok so i thought i'd make a fic of it.

[idfendyr]

Jealous?

Sartaq is well loved by all women in khaganate, when hasar asks aren't you jealous to nesryn , she replies " why? afterall he's married to me"

@lysandra-emerald

She would never fail to feel out of place. 

At least before, Nesryn had felt somewhat at ease. The reality had yet to sink in, the war having provided a blessed distraction. 

And since returning to the Khaganate, she had had time to let herself adjust, to let herself feel a sense of familiarity here of some kind. She thought she had, but she had apparently just been living in ignorant bliss for the most part. Likely because she either spent most of her time with the Rukhin or her family in the city. 

But now, surrounded by nobles in the palace, dressed in finery, maybe she may have relaxed.

If it weren't for the fact that they all addressed her as ‘Your Highness.’

Nesryn cringed internally every time she heard it. She had a hard time resisting the urge to not respond to the title.

Ever since she the day got married, the title came with her. Which admittedly was a few months ago, but she couldnt shake her….feeling of the title away.

Sartaq, her husband, had assured her she would get used to it, and she believed him but it still bothered her for the time being.

Likely forever, a voice at the back of her head said, but she promptly ignored it, taking a sip of her wine as she half listened to one of the viziers talk while looking around the room. It wasn't often that balls were held in the Khaganate, probably because then one would be held every few weeks. Even less maybe. But when the occasion called for it.

When the occasion called for it she was also made to wear more of the traditional attire, the robes and dresses and heavy embroidery. 

She didn’t hate it as much, she thought as she remembered earlier as she had looked herself in the mirror, looking herself over. The amethyst-coloured robes with the embroidery made of the finest material as she could only imagine and she hadn’t dared ask. But..

She did like it. The way it fit perfectly at the bodice, the flow of the robes, the billowing sleeves.

Liked it even more when Nesryn heard a sharp intake of breath, making her turn to find Sartaq standing there, wide-eyed, his eyes taking in every detail, as she did the same.

The sight of him always did something to her, but there was something about seeing him in all dressed up, muscles bunching beneath the fabric, the open collar of the attire revealing just a peak of the tanned chest that had her sucking in a breath-

She swallowed, took a shaky breath and met his gaze just as he did hers, and gave her the deviously charming grin that never failed to make her knees buckle as he strode for her, hair swaying where he had left it open, a small braid tucked behind his ear.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into his embrace as his other hand cupped her jaw, thumb lightly grazing her cheek as he tilted her head back and kissed her, her cheeks, peppering tiny fleeting kisses until she was laughing in his arms.

He pulled back enough to grin. Touching his forehead to hers,

‘My wife, it seems, loves to torment me,’ he murmured, another kiss. 

She smiled, closing her eyes as she sighed. ‘Maybe. Sometimes.’

‘Sometimes? My heart, you torment me every day.’ She grinned. ‘But right now, I’m finding it hard to let you walk out that door.’ He pulled back to gaze at her once more, lightly brushing his thumb along her jaw. She leaned into it. ‘You look…’

She looked down at her attire, ‘Its certainly not something I would have chosen. But I like it.’

‘You look beautiful, Nesryn.’ She looked back at him and the look on his handsome face had words failing her. ‘If I’m to be inclined to say, which I am, you might be the most gorgeous person in the room tonight-’

She gave a playful slap to his chest, laughing, ‘ Stop. I am certainly not.’

‘Oh, you are.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, ‘If not to anyone else love, then to me, you will forever be.’ That devilish smirk told her what he was going to say before he even said, ‘I might just pull you out of the room as soon as we-’

She wasn’t going to win this. So she just shut him up by pressing her lips to his. He was all to happy to respond, holding her closer.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him ever so closer to her as if they could. As if they could join together.

Nesryn was sure he would have taken her there, appearances and responsibilities be damned when the knock sounded on the door. 

He grunted, making her laugh as he glared at the door. Then turned to her, heated look in his eyes, ‘Later then, my love.’

Perhaps that was part of the reason she was not as uncomfortable here as she would have been. Usually, Sartaq and her were so busy with their duties that they could hardly see each other most days. So oddly enough, having a moment with him beforehand seemed to have comforted her. He always did. 

‘There, thought you finally went into hiding.’ She turned in time to see Hasar walk up to her, Renia hand in hand, and wave the vizier off. 

‘You’d think I would have done so from the beginning,’ she said. Hasar, she had learned, loves to be entertained, be it by others or of her own making. She’s been particularly wreathing to see Nesryn have a breakdown, or at least she thought so.

‘I suppose so. But it’s-’

‘Hasar,’ Renia warned silently. All she got was a smile. 

‘Bored, sister,’ Kashin said as he came up to them. Nesryn immediately noticed eyes upon them.

Or rather the prince. Mainly from young women. But he paid them no heed. 

‘Awfully,’ Hasar grumbled, ‘No one seems to want to have fun around here.’

Nesryn and Kashin shared a look. Then he asked her, ‘Where’s Sartaq?’

She waved a hand, ‘ Whisked away the same way I assume those ladies want to do to you.’

Kashin glanced at a group of them, turned back and shook his head, smiling. ‘They can want all they like then.’

‘Oh,’ Hasar questioned, ‘No interest brother? That's a first.’

‘Not for the time being, much to your displeasure it seems.’

Her gaze landed on Sartaq then as the two continued. He was talking to people she didn't even bother to identify. How could she when all she could see was him. 

She felt Hasar move closer to her and said. ‘Jealous?’

‘Of what,’ she asked, confused.

‘You can not tell me all those females flocking him don’t spark up a reaction.’

She hadn’t even noticed. Nor did she care and she said as much. ‘ Why would I be? He’s married to me.’

Dare she say she looked disappointed yet surprised and a flash of approval. ‘Not even a little?’

‘There’s no reason for it now is there.’

She felt arms around her waist then, knew exactly who it was as she looked over her shoulder and smiled at Sartaq, who merely smiled and asked, ‘No reason for what?’ 

Hasar shook her head and walked away. Nesryn only shook her head and chuckled, turning to him.

‘They must have been dying to talk to you, your highness.’

Indeed, the speed at which the nobles had hounded him may have been concerning were it not normal. She had merely hidden her amusement at the sight. 

‘So my title makes an appearance again,’ he sighs. ‘If its going to be that way, would you, dear wife atleast do me the honour of a dance.’ He raised a brow and said, leaning in to whisper, ‘Or would you rather we leave.’

Her toes curled at the promise in his voice, knowing exactly what he would do and how much she would enjoy it.

But for now, she supposed she could torment him a little more, as he had put it. ‘A dance, prince.’

He only grinned.

[just-a-smut-slut]

The Neighborhood

(Instead of Voldemort killing Harry’s parents, Lily and James went on to destroy the Horcruxes with the rest of the Order and killing Voldemort. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grew up post war and are now in their last year of Hogwarts.)

Chapter One

The castle was dark and cold. Despite the roaring fires, drafts found their way inside, chilling Hermione, giving her goosebumps. It was late. Past curfew. She had a special note from her Astronomy professor to be out late in the Astronomy tower, but she hated the idea of Filch catching her out of bed and having to argue that she was allowed to be up. It was just easier not to get caught.

She padded quietly up the stairs of the Astronomy tower. As she turned to face the telescopes lining the side of the tower, she stopped suddenly, seeing a lanky figure with platinum hair. Malfoy. He turned and gave her a sneer before going back to his telescope.

“Didn’t think I’d have to have company coming this late. If I would have known, I’d have stayed in bed,” Malfoy snarled viciously at Hermione.

Hermione lifted her chin before saying, “Same.”

They stood with telescopes at opposite ends of the tower. Hermione didn’t hear anything else from Malfoy except for the occasional scribble of quill on parchment. Her eyes were beginning to get heavy and she continued to rub them until finally deciding to relent and head back to the Gryffindor common room.

“Night,” she said briskly and walked to the door. She heard Malfoy huff.

She reached for the door and rattled the handle. It was locked. Sighing, she reached into her robes and took out her wand. “Alohamora!” She said, magic shooting from her wand into the locked door.

She tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. Malfoy noticed Hermione struggling and called, “Can’t even get a door open, Granger? Pity.”

Hermione sighed heavily and turned to challenge him, “Well, come over then and you give it a try. My spell didn’t work.”

Malfoy brushed off nonexistent dust from his robes and strode over to the door. He jiggled the hand unsuccessfully, becoming more and more enraged as he struggled. Hermione stood with a smug expression painted across her face. He whipped out his wand and shot the unlocking charm at the door. It remained locked.

Malfoy growled, “So, what? We’re just stuck out here until someone comes to look for us? Stuck with… you?” He looked at her with the level of disgust that most people would reserve to a plate of revolting food or a rock stuck in your shoe.

“Well, I’m not thrilled about it either,” Hermione shot back. A shiver ran down her and she clutched her arms. “It’s cold.”

Malfoy didn’t comment. He walked to the windows, peering inside. “There’s no light anywhere. No one is up here…”

He sat with his back against the door and wrapped his robes tighter around himself. “Perfect.” He spat.

Hermione sat a few feet away from him. “I could do a fire spell or something.”

“And, what? Set fire to the Astronomy tower? Pass,” he seethed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Why are you always so-” Hermione stopped.

Malfoy’s head jerked toward her, a smile forming on his face, “Charming?”

“Ugh. No. Cantankerous is the word I’d use. Or a self righteous prick,” Hermione spat back.

Malfoy huffed again. “It may surprise you to learn that most people actually enjoy my company. Well, people that have better family ties, anyway.”

Hermione scoffed at this, “Better family ties? You mean inbreds?”

“Those inbreds have more magic in their little finger than you do in your entire muggle-born body,” Draco growled out.

“At least you didn’t call me a mud-blood. Looks like you’re learning manners afterall,” Hermione said.

“Please,” Draco said. “I wouldn’t waste manners on you. It was just a habit of correcting myself.”

“Sure,” Hermione teased.

“Don’t talk to me anymore,” Malfoy turned from her.

They sat in silence for another half hour. Hermione was so cold, she was starting to feel that she must be blue. She rubbed her arms vigorously. She cursed herself for only wearing trousers and a jumper. She was even only wearing house slippers. Draco looked to have come prepared for the cold. He was wrapped in a warm cloak that looked to be hiding a turtleneck sweater. She was very jealous.

“Draco?” Hermione started.

Malfoy turned to look at her, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my first name before.”

“Yes, well. I’m trying to be nice,” she said.

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, “What do you want, Granger?”

“I’m so cold,” her teeth chattered out. “I’m desperate.”

Malfoy snuggled down in his cloak even more. “I’m not giving up my cloak for you if that’s what you’re after.”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed. It was stupid of her to mention it. They sat for a few more moments before Draco said, Hermione breathed into her hands to warm them. “Listen. I don’t want anyone hearing about this. You can share my cloak with me. I’d hate to be blamed for you freezing to death. But, if you mention this to anyone, especially Potter and Weasley, you’re dead.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but scooted over next to Malfoy. His fingers moved to unclasp his cloak and he handed one end to her. They looked between each other. Malfoy looked away and Hermione squeezed under the cloak next to him. She had to press against him in order for her to fit. Hermione’s cheeks continued to burn red with embarrassment. She couldn’t see Draco’s face because he refused to look in her direction.

“I haven’t always hated you, you know,” Hermione tried to break the tension between them.

Draco chuckled, “That’s surprising. I’ve hated you from the moment I saw you.”

Hermione went on, “Actually, the first time I saw you… I thought you were handsome.”

Malfoy jerked his head to face her. Their faces were very near each other and he turned back to face forward. Hermione could make out a light blush on his cheeks. His voice was low as he grumbled, “Thanks.”

Hermione leaned her head back against the door, “That is until I heard the utter rubbish you spew from your mouth. Then, I thought you were quite hideous.”

A smile tugged on the edge of Draco’s mouth. “I’ve only ever thought of you as pretty once.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. The Yule Ball?”

Malfoy nodded. “But, I’ve thought you were beautiful since the day you punched me.”

It was Hermione’s turn to jerk her head toward him in disbelief. He had leaned his head down to rest his chin on his knees. “My parents would kill me if they heard me talking like that.”

A chill ran down Hermione and she shivered. Draco reached his arm that was touching her and tentatively wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking her deeper into him. Hermione sighed with the relief of warmth. Before long, Draco realized that Hermione was asleep. Her deep, even breathing lulling himself into sleep.

The both of them jerked awake as Argus Filch kicked their shoes. “Get up! What do you think you two lovebirds are doing out here!”

Hermione and Malfoy showed Filch their notes and tried to explain their predicament. The notes seemed to dissuade Filch from bringing them to McGonagall, but it took serious convincing on Hermione’s part and threats from Draco’s. The two of them marched down the stairs, light starting to seep in from the windows outside. They didn’t speak even as they parted ways, Hermione heading to the Gryffindor common room and Draco heading to the Slytherin common room. Hermione knew she would be able to sneak back in without most people noticing. She always had the excuse of astronomy, but the thought of anyone connecting her to Malfoy unnerved her. She would never live it down to Harry and Ron.

[kingladywrites]

After a brief stop in at the Ministry, Harry was sent immediately to check in on Malfoy--Draco. He had decided a couple weeks prior, that he would begin to call Draco by his first name. Afterall, he called Pansy by hers. He had yet to say it to his face, but today would be the day.

Harry arrived at the door to Pansy and Draco’s flat after climbing the stairs that seemed like they would never end. He knocked on the door and waited. He heard footsteps followed quickly with the door unlocking and opening.

“Potter,” Draco drawled.

“Draco,” Harry replied with a smile.

“No,” he said slowly with a scowl. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You invited me over for dinner--we can’t be complete enemies anymore. Besides, I see you twice a week.”

Draco studied him for a long moment. Harry, for once, was unafraid to study the man back. 

Draco was a few inches taller and a bit leaner than Harry was. His white-blond hair was longer than it had been in school and not nearly as polished. However, it was far from messy. He wore black robes and a pair of house-shoes that looked more expensive than anything Harry owned.

“Whatever,” Draco turned and walked into his house.

Harry accepted that as the warmest invitation he was going to get. He walked inside and sat down at the chair he always sat in. He pulled out his files and began to page through them while Draco sat down across from him on another chair. He didn’t offer tea or coffee--he never did.

“So, I guess we can start with-”

“Where were you last week?” 

Harry was surprised his absence was noticed. “My daughter was born. I took some time off.”

“Only a week?”

Harry bit back the desire to say something stupid and angry back. Instead, he shrugged and said, “some of us have bills to pay, Draco.”

At that Draco raised a brow. “So no paternity leave, I assume?”

“I…no, there isn’t.”

“You should take a few more weeks off and demand compensation.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not. If they value you as an employee, they should make adequate accommodations for the changes your lifestyle will go through. Not everyone will stay single and childless, they should accommodate accordingly if they wish to keep employees.” He spoke plainly as if it were the most simple thing ever.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. In fact, Hermione had said a similar thing to him, but he had brushed her off. He had assumed she was only saying it because she was his friend. Draco had no such obligations.

“I…I can’t ask the Ministry to do that,” he ran a hand through his hair. “And we need to get back to your files-”

“You won’t stand up to them?” He looked at Harry like he had just said something amusing.

“No. It’s not…I won’t…can we just do this?” He gestured to the parchment on his lap.

“Fine, but I think you’re making a mistake letting the Ministry walk all over you.”

Harry ignored his desire to tell Draco to ‘shut it’.

Read "Poison and Wine" here!

[testingforhope]

Chapter 17 - The Shadow

I woke up with the birds chirping in the trees above my tent like always. I stretched when I got up, taking off the robe with delicacy not seen anywhere else in my actions. I put on my armour from the day before, the straps on the metal being just as easy to put on as they were to take off the day before.

Leaving my tent, I walked over to the running water source nearby to wash my eyes for maximum guarding abilities. This was, afterall, what the lady above had wished us to do. The gunk from my eyes washed out with ease and I soon started strolling through the woods to the cook’s station for the breakfast of the day.

It was usually something that could be taken with us on the road, just in case anyone needed to leave in a hurry or woke up late when work was to begin. Today’s special on the menu was an egg and fried ham wrap. The bread was an export from the sirens below our kingdom. They were the source of many of our exports, in fact. As for the fried ham, it was, at its core, just bacon with some bread on it. It was a recipe found in some Northern parts of Hubain knows where.

I grabbed my breakfast with a polite nod in the cook’s direction, trying to give them praise and discovery that they had hoped for with the little energy I had that early in the morning. The sky was still dark, but slowly getting brighter, when I sat with the other knights and discussed business with the night patrol before their shift was over. The bags under their eyes were evident. It makes sense, though, considering where we had set up camp.

The Enchanted Woods were no laughing matter to the guards stationed to watch in that direction overnight from even the castle. They would turn all the heads in the room with the things they said were heard or seen from there. These knights, though, were put into the place itself. They heard and saw things they seemed afraid to mention. The woods are said to mess with your mind, which is probably keeping their tongue in their throats.

I sent them off the bed with a dismissive wave, seeing their sleep deprived eyebags and wishing all good rest for each individual that had to stand post over all of us in our most defenceless state. I then went back to my wrap and finished eating it, picking up on some of the meaningless ramble the other guards were talking about. It didn’t matter anyway. As soon as it went in one ear, it went out the other and was soon replaced with the next sentence for judgement by my ears.

When I was done, I left the site to go on a stroll. The Enchanted Woods were the attraction of our kingdom, the lights attracting all types of merchants and species brought in scientists and doctors. The terrain and lifeforms in here were like from a dream.

I stopped in my tracks when I came to the natural garden that I had ventured to many years before with Sofia. I wonder if she would still look the same in this lighting… 

A crack of a twig startled me, making me pull out my hidden dagger in the direction of the noise. I squinted because of the sunlight shining right in front of my face. I could have sworn by the great goddess that there was something, or someone, behind the tree across the mystical plants.

“Come out now or I will have no hesitation,” I called out, hoping to draw it out.

“...no…” a voice replied, so quiet that I almost didn’t pick up on it.

I tried to catch another glimpse of the figure hidden in the shadows, but to no avail. The trees became too dense in the direction the voice was coming from. It was almost like talking to the void.

I then lowered my dagger, not quite putting it away yet. “What are you doing out here anyway?” It seems to be humanoid…

“what? …I live here. What are you doing in my forest?”

[ew-selfish-art]

hiya @bae-graphomaniac

Jason was disappointed with the outcome of the mission, surely, losing the head honcho of the newest crime operation in town was not ideal. Head Honcho was apparently some part-time zealot of a cult (not scientology this time) and was importing more candles and red robes than any one was comfortable with. Jason fortunately had been able to put the fear of death into him before he weaseled away during the explosion, but that wasn't good enough. The explosion caused by none other than his younger brother who definitely knows better.

Tim isn't anywhere at the scene of the crime by the time Jason secures the area, and the unnerving cold breeze suggests something paranormal was going on. Shadows weren't normally that long, seconds didn't normally slow down and he certainly didn't think the green ooze was an environmental thing this time. No, he knew something was up, and he knew it was Tim that would connect all the dots. Afterall, that's why he ditched, Right?

He breaks into the old theater, Tim's Nest, without too much trouble after convincing Babs to help. That's when he starts to hear Tim arguing with someone.

"So you're just going to give up then?" The extra voice echos a bit, and it's whine reminds him of a petulant teenager.

"Not my style, I just need to renegotiate the terms of our plan's expansion now that Hood let the guy go-" Tim replies but Jason cuts him off with an affronted noise he hadn't meant to make.

"Let him go? You're the piece of shit setting off unauthorized explosives-" Jason blurts out in anger before being cut off himself.

"Yeah, I sure did! The area was cleared, the cult was already done summoning this asshole and we needed to clear their 'impossible to erase' summoning circle asap!" Tim groans and reveals his cards. Jason peers around the space and surprised when he can't see the source of the other voice.

"This Asshole?" Jason questions tentatively, and Tim rolls his eyes.

"Hi, Yeah sorry, Powers always go on the fritz when I get summoned. Names Phantom." A cold wind spoke into the old theater.

"Look, the cult was further along than we thought and the summoning circle had to go/ I mean, I'm sure there is another way this could have been prevented but…" Tim carries off his statement into a shrugg. The kid looks exhausted, but the so called Phantom just laughs into the space. It almost gives Jason the creeps before it becomes very stereotypical shit-head-teenager laughing.

"I mean yeah, but where is the fun in that?" Phantom's laughter brings him slightly into view, Jason can see him laying on the rafter now. The green eyes should have been expected but it sends Jason onto the edge.

"Fun? People live in that neighborhood and they were put into danger by the explosives! Death is not fun! I would know, I have first hand experience." Jason barks out, and Phantom raises an eyebrow.

"Aw, you've died too?" His voice holds some of its earlier humor but there is something off about the way he asks it. Tim stops typing on his computer, clearly waiting to hear Jason's reply.

"Yes. And Red Robin, how are we supposed to believe that this spirit isn't trying-" Jason is at a snapping point already, and then Tim has the audacity to snort.

"You really don't keep up with my social life do you?" Tim asks completely deadpan, and then he goes back to typing on the computer.

"You little-" Jason stomps forward with the intent of punching his brother's shoulder but Phantom is in front of him in an instant.

"Yeah no, sorry little red zombie bucket head. Red's my friend and you should be thrilled that he was able to get me summoned instead of the other guy they were trying to pull through."

"…Who were they trying to summon?" Jason grits his teeth for a second before he seethes out his question.

"My godfather, a dude named Plasmius. Total fruitloop and underhanded business man."

"Do godparent titles keep after death?" Tim asks, like that was the most interesting thing being said.

"I mean, I dunno if officially-" but Jason has had enough and cuts off Phantom.

"What are we doing about it and how do we ensure that Plasmius isn't summoned?"

"Uh, don't worry about it." Phantom looks nervous, Tim isn't even paying attention as he clicks around on his screen.

"It's related to Phantom's secret identity, don't worry about the cult stuff. Just go find your guy before he suddenly finds himself with an obscure venture capitalist amount of money."

"Why would he be running into money?" Jason's curiousity is piqued.

"Plasmius wants a way to get in and out of Gotham easily. They're working together, not to start a new age cult so much as to stay under the radar as the ghost comes in and eventually sets up business connections with Gotham's elite." Tim explains.

"And how exactly is a dead guy going to- You know what? You're wasting my time. I'll hunt down the bastard and get his answers before you tell me anything that actually makes sense." Jason can't believe he got stuck with such an annoyance as a sibling.

"Fellow dead guy, that's super not cool." Phantom chirps, before adding "I mean, you should know that us dead guys get shit done."

Ayo, I am in the mood to write DP x DC but don't have any ideas at the top of my head that im passionate about- If you like my style please send me a prompt or a dialogue! :)

[fallatyourfeet]

Red Silk (Tommy x Wife Reader) One-shot

Summary: It's a rare occasion when Tommy comes home early. So why not spoil him.

Word count: 1067

Warnings: Mud??? It's very suggestive, but there's no actual smut.

A/N: I've had this idea for a while now. I was aiming for something that is hopefully steamy, without the smut. Hope it delivers.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

You sat at the edge of the bed; a bath robe wrapped around you. Daylight streamed in through the window, its warmth falling across the fresh clean skin of your face. After a long and luxurious soak in the tub, your body felt so relaxed, and yet, you were impatient to unveil the gorgeous new silk lingerie hiding inconspicuously beneath the robe. Tommy was due home any moment, and you were more than ready to give him a front row ticket to your one woman show, with a bonus behind the scenes pass too.  

Just over an hour ago, Frances knocked on your bathroom door. Tommy had called, letting you know he’d be arriving home shortly after five. And immediately, your thoughts turned to the expensive red undergarment hiding in your wardrobe. Maybe you didn’t have to wait for a special occasion to wear it... maybe this was a special enough occasion in itself. Afterall, it wasn’t often that Tommy came home before nightfall, so why not reward him. He loved you in red. You, loved you in red. And you felt so beautiful when you tried it on, so you knew without a doubt, it would have its desired effect. 

Looking across to the clock, it showed 5.15pm, and you felt your impatience grow. Standing up, you walked across the room, your fingertips running along the edge of the dresser, stopping at the collection of perfumes residing at the side. It was an easy choice. Picking up the elegant blue bottle, you sprayed it at your neck and wrists, it was Tommy’s favourite. And in the very unlikely event that your red lingerie didn’t get the blood pumping faster through his veins, then the scent of your neck most definitely would. Gently placing the bottle down, you heard the unmistakable sound of his car coming up the driveway and you smiled, taking off your robe and throwing it on the chair in the corner of the room.  

Standing in the shadows at the top of the stairs, you were not quite willing to reveal yourself until you were sure he was walking through the front door alone. But you were safe. It was just him. Not that you could see him very well, as he lingered in the muted light of the entrance. Stepping from the shadows, you revealed yourself, “Frances told me you were coming home early... So, I thought I’d dress for the occasion.” Moving towards the stairs, you heard his intake of air, and you smiled wickedly, your feet taking their time as they slowly made their way down each step, “I mean it’s nothing much. It’s just a little something I picked up from-” 

Words dried up in your mouth as your feet came to a sudden standstill about halfway down the staircase, your lungs forgetting to breathe when he stepped into the light of the foyer. He was a mess. The entirety of him was covered in god knows what, filling you with panic. But your breath quickly returned the moment your gaze caught his smile. And after a fleeting inspection from his head to his feet, you found not an ounce of blood... It was just mud. But still, shock held every feature of your face. “Tommy. What on God’s green earth happened to you?” 

Tommy ignored your question and laughed, no doubt a result of the confused expression you felt plastered across your face. Clearing his throat, he took a step towards the stairs, his delighted smirk almost lost amongst splatters of mud, and asked, “Would you greet me this way if I was to come home early all the time...?” Then taking another step towards the stairs, he added, “Because it can be arranged.”  

From the moment Frances told you he was coming home, all you thought about was his lips on yours, the feel his hair grasped between your fingers, and the weight of his body upon yours. Now, you suddenly found your feet slowly retreating up the stairs, every time he took a step in your direction. Shaking your head softly, you answered, “Ah... not if you’re going to come home looking like that.” 

Tommy’s suit was barely recognisable through the thick layer of mud, his feet leaving footprints with every step he took. He was almost at the base of the stairs now, amused, and quite obviously appreciating the scenery before him. “What’s wrong with a little mud..? It’s good for the constitution.” 

You watched him casually grab the rail, his foot resting on the very first tread; his eyes taking in every inch of you. And with another backwards step, you replied, “It may very well be... But you know what it’s not good for..?” Running your hand over your hip, you picked up the delicate silk between your fingers, a move that only seemed to intensify his appreciating gaze, but you continued anyway, your voice full of warning, “This ludicrously expensive and delicate silk.” 

Tommy shrugged his shoulders, moving another step up the staircase, running his hands through his filthy muddy hair, “I’ll admit, it’s very beautiful and its done nothing to offend me... but its days are numbered.” Tommy held your gaze, his feet taking another tread upwards, and the fear you felt for your beautiful red lingerie became tainted with anticipation, your cheeks flushing with heat when he announced, “I’m more interested in what lies beneath.” You bit your bottom lip and glanced behind you, a half-hearted attempt to find an escape, but he teased, “You’ll never make it... I’m faster than you.” And as the last word left his mouth, you spun around and ran for it, giggles spilling from your lips. 

Quick to react, Tommy leaped up the stairs, two steps at a time, catching you around the waist just as you reached the door of your bedroom. Spinning you around, he pulled you towards him, holding you flush against his body, taking you with him until he pinned you against the door. Breathless, he kissed your collarbone, getting lost in the scent of your skin, causing his fingers to grab and knead at your waist. And with a deep breath, he dragged his lips along the length of your neck, stopping only to nibble on your lobe and murmur, as the delicate silk tore easily beneath his grip, “I promise... tomorrow I’ll buy you one in every colour.” 

[fool-inthe-rain]

Lonesome and Mad

Sirius Black x Reader

wc: 3700~

Content: Angst. Almost a happy ending (Sorry). Time Jump. Use of she/her pronouns. Use of Y/n. Death, imprisonment, the usual angst yall get from me. Pretend Flitwick retired early or something and doesn’t teach charms while Harry is at Hogwarts. Mentions of depression and anxiety. 

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The days following his arrest were the most gut-wrenching days she had ever experienced. Having to go through thousands of emotions at once. Trying to wrap her head around the fact that James and Lily were dead, slain by the Dark Lord. Trying to understand how her sweet Sirius could have killed not only Peter but twelve muggles as well. 

1st November, 1981

She had been lying on the floor for about twelve hours now. Her entire body hurt, but nothing was more painful than the beating of her heart. Her tears had stopped a while ago, not from a lack of sadness. She had cried every tear she possibly could and now there was only numbness. Flashes of the small Halloween get-together they all had flashed through her brain. She was desperately trying to hold onto the final memories of her best friends. 

Lily, her best friend since first year, had dressed up as a storybook witch, big hat, fake wart, and all. James had dressed as Merlin, he had even gotten a fake beard to complete the look. They had Harry dressed in a baby-sized Gryffindor robe and James had found a small stick in the yard for Harry to use as a wand. 

The images of her friends muddied her brain. How they could be so happy and celebratory, surrounded by friends, and then gone forever not an hour after the party was over haunted her. She tried to think of everything that had happened, she was desperate to know if there was some way this could have been prevented. The only thing that was unusual was that Peter only stayed for about thirty minutes before leaving. Sure he seemed jumpy and anxious, but that's how he was for as long as she had known him. Though it was hard to think about, she knew there was no way to save Lily and James. Voldemort wanted them dead, and he got exactly what he wanted. 

But Sirius? Was he a traitor all this time? Believing he had committed a mass murder was the most difficult part to comprehend. He was an integral part of the Order. He was brave and loyal, he would do anything for James. He was so proud to be Harry's Godfather. Every time he said he loved her, was he lying? Her entire world was destroyed and the only thing she could get herself to do was lay on the freezing cold floor. 

Snape was the one who found her on the floor. They were never the best of friends, but she knew how much he loved Lily so she tended to take it easy on him at school. He had apparated to her home shortly after he had seen Lily and James dead, he knew if anyone was taking this exceptionally hard, it would be her. He walked into the small house, calling her name only to get no answer. He finally stumbled upon her laying on the kitchen floor, her back turned to him. 

“Y/n?” Snape kneeled down, putting a gentle hand to her waist. 

“I can’t get up.” She whispered. She knew it was Snape, afterall the only other person who had such heavy footsteps was now rotting in Azkaban. 

“Alright.” This was the one time she was happy Snape wasn’t a talker. 

“Would you like me to get Lupin?” He asked after a few moments of silence. 

“Yes, please.” At the mention of his name she began to cry once more. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that her best friend was going through exactly the same thing as her. 

Without another word, Snape had stood and apparated away. She stayed on the floor. Paralyzed by her grief, she knew if she tried to stand the effort would be futile. Another loud apparition induced crack rang through the house signaling that Snape had made his way back, hopefully with Remus. Even though she knew Remus would need just as much comfort as her, she still couldn’t find it in her to get up. She didn’t have to however because before she knew it, Remus was laying across from her on the ground. His eyes were bright red and puffy, and he had a sickeningly sad look on his face.

Snape left as soon as he saw Remus get down on the floor with her. Neither spoke for about thirty minutes, they instead decided to just be grateful for eachothers company.

“Moony?” Y/n was the first to speak, though he almost didn’t hear her hushed tone through the wall of thoughts coursing through his mind.

“Hmm?” He didn’t trust himself to speak without crying.

“Will it hurt this bad forever?” Silent tears leaked from her eyes.

Remus lifted a hand, placing it on her wet cheek.

“I think so dove.” He gave her a sad smile.

It would hurt for eternity and thereafter.

November 1991

Things had changed. Y/n took up a post at Hogwarts as the Professor for Charms after Flitwick had left, and Snape had invented a life changing potion for Remus’s furry little problem. Y/n and Remus moved into neighboring homes so as not to be alone in their mourning. Life was better, well, for the most part. 

What hadn’t changed was the constant pain just from being alive. The beating of her own heart served as a constant reminder that two of the people she loved most were dead and gone. Rage still churned in her blood every time she thought about Sirius and what he did. Many things were different, but these things were permanent. 

Harry was now eleven and attending Hogwarts. When the sorting had yelled Gryffindor after sitting atop his head, y/n had to excuse herself from the professors table so her new colleagues wouldn’t think she was weak for crying at a silly hat saying a silly word. She had spotted him as soon as he walked into the Great Hall. How could she not? He looked exactly like James, silver framed, round glasses, dark messy hair. He was the spitting image of his father. 

Though they were two months into the first term, y/n still had yet to speak to Harry, to let him know who she was. He was in her class, and every time she thought of asking him to stay back after said class, he did something so reminiscent of his parents and she would become too overwhelmed with grief to say something. 

Harry ended up finding out before she had the chance to speak up. Her own fault, she told herself, she was too cowardly to bring up the past, to relive that horrible day. She wasn’t exactly sure how he found out, but when he came storming into her office with as determined a look an eleven year old can have, she knew exactly what was going on.

“You knew my parents, didn’t you?” He was upset, that was clear as day.

“I did.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me! Two months you’ve been my teacher and you haven’t said anything!” Harry was yelling, his fists balled at his sides.

“Sit, Harry. Please.” She gestured to the chair sitting on the opposite side of her desk.

Harry did as he was asked, still fuming however.

“What do you want to know?” The question was so simple and calmly spoken, something he wasn’t expecting after the outburst he had.

“Everything.” 

Y/n let out a small laugh, 

“That could take a while, and I promise you will in time know everything, but how about for now we start with just a little less than everything?” 

“Okay,” He sat and thought for a moment, sussing out what would be best to ask first. “How did you know them? How did you meet?”

“Well, I was in Gryffindor, just as your mother and father were. I met Lily the very second I stepped foot onto the Hogwarts express for the first time. She was bumbling down the corridor like a lost puppy and she bowled right into me. As soon as she calmed whatever frenzy she was in to help me up, I knew she would be my first friend. My forever friend.” Y/n smiled at the memory, wishing she could go back in time.

Harry was also smiling. He was picturing his mother on the train, bright red hair pluming around her as she ran down the length of the train.

“And my father?” He looked hopeful, happy to have another piece of his parents. Even if it was a memory he wasn’t a part of.

“Well, I met James on the first day of classes. He already had quite the group of friends, and Lily and I decided very quickly that we wanted nothing to do with him. You can see how that ended up.” She smiled at the young boy. “It took the both of us a while to warm up to each other, but by fourth year James was one of my most loyal friends.” 

Y/n let Harry sit with the new information for a few moments.

“One more question,” She checked her watch, “then I believe you have to be getting to your next class.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Harry wasn’t angry this time, curious was the right word now.

It was her turn to think now, it was a loaded question, though he didn’t know that.

“Well, in complete honesty Harry, it was too painful to think about. You are more like them than you will ever know, and I had no clue how to approach the subject with you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to make you think of the things you have lost. I just wanted you to live as a normal student for as long as possible.” 

“I’m happy I found out. If it’s not too much trouble, could I come here when I want to learn about them?” He asked sheepishly.

Her heart swelled at the thought of having a relationship with Harry, to finally be the Aunt she had only gotten to be for a little over a year.

“Of course. Anytime you need to talk about anything, you know where to find me.” 

Harry stood from the chair, giving her a wide smile.

“I-I have to get to transfiguration, but thank you. I enjoyed hearing about them.”

“Go on, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Like a bolt he shot out of her small office so he wouldn’t be late. They both kept their promises that year, and the years following. Harry got to learn about his parents, and y/n got to reminisce on the best years of her life. 

September 1993

Sirius escaped Azkaban. Simple as that, though the situation was anything but simple. Harry had been told why this was such a big deal a few days prior, the work of Arthur Weasley. Y/n had been invited by Molly Weasley to join them and Harry before the term started, of course she accepted. She had become someone Harry was comfortable with, and there weren’t many people like that in his life, so anytime she could be there for him she would be. The two had grown quite close over his first three years at Hogwarts, Harry had confided in her, he kept her thoroughly updated on his life and though she was his professor he saw her as the person she was supposed to be. His Aunt. 

The two had a lengthy conversation about Sirius, and though it hurt her entire being to talk about him, she answered all of his questions. What she didn’t tell him was that Sirius was his Godfather, nor did she tell him that Moony, or now, Professor Lupin, would be joining them at Hogwarts this year. She figured that was a conversation Remus had to initiate with him, when he felt ready. 

January 1994

Remus Lupin was settling in nicely at Hogwarts. He told Harry that he also knew his parents, and while Remus was a bit more hesitant to get close to the boy, they still had a friendly relationship. The year had gone fairly smooth for all parties, besides the elephant in every room. That elephant being Sirius Black of course. Remus and y/n were on high alert everyday, trying to keep Harry safe was a difficult task, especially when the boy had a new found tendency to sneak out of the castle. The night Remus found him in the dark hallway with Snape chastising him, it took him half a second to recognize the old piece of parchment in Severeus’s hand. The Marauder’s Map. Where Harry had gotten it he had no clue, but when the pair had gotten back to his office and Harry had told him he saaw Peter’s name on the map, everything came crashing down around him.

Remus waited for five minutes after Harry had left his office before racing down the faculty hallway, loudly banging on y/n’s door. At that moment he had no care in the world for the sleeping portraits or professors. By the grace of Godric she was still awake, and she quickly ushered him inside to silence the horrible noise of his loud knocking.

“Moony? What is it? What happened?” She placed both hands on his shoulders which were heaving from the sprinting he had just done.

He pulled the map from his back pocket, flicking it in the air for her to see.

“Is that what I think it is? Where the hell did you find that after all these years?” 

“Harry had it, don’t ask me how because I don’t know, but right now I need you to be quiet and listen to what I’m about to say.” His eyes were wild.

“Okay.” She nodded, nervous for whatever would pass through his lips next.

“Harry said he saw a name on the map, a name we all thought no longer existed.” 

“Remus, you're scaring me.” She was incredibly confused and scared for her friend who had obviously just had some sort of epiphany.

“Peter Pettigrew.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you sick? He’s dead Remus, he has been dead for twelve years!” She was angry now, she didn’t know if this was some cruel joke or what, but she wasn’t having it.

“I didn’t see it! Harry did, and you know that boy doesn’t lie, and neither does this map!” He hit the front of his map against his free hand. He turned away from her, giving himself a minute to calm down. 

Y/n paced the room, trying to unscramble this new riddle in her life. 

“Does this mean, does this mean he didn’t do it? Is Sirius innocent?” Her breath was quickening, her anxiety was spiking, and that cruel night began replaying in her head, over and over, as if it were there to torture her. 

“That is exactly what that means! Smart girl, I knew you would figure it out! Now we need a plan, how do we get to Sirius before anyone else?” He turned back to face her, his eyes met not the steeled thirty-two year old woman, but the scared twenty year old who had just learned her best friends were dead. 

Remus slowly made his way to her, helping her sit on the edge of her bed.

“Deep breaths dove, it’s okay. You’re not there anymore, you're in Hogwarts in your room. Everything will be okay.” 

His strong hand running along her back and the reassuring words did nothing to quell her racing mind. His voice went in one ear and out the other as she thought about the exact moment the news reached her, how she fell to the ground and didn’t get up for over twelve hours. Suddenly her heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room.

“I-I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe Moony, please make it stop!” She slumped into his side, clinging onto his shirt for dear life.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m here. Everything is okay y/n, I need you to take some deep breaths for me.” He ran his hand along her hair, praying to Godric that he was helping and not making things worse. 

When he finally felt her breaths slowing down, he gave a silent thank you to the sky. Minutes passed without a single utterance.

“Sirius is innocent.” She choked out after a while.

“He is.” Remus agreed.

The air was heavy, and their minds were racing, but Sirius was innocent, that was all that mattered.

May 1994

Hagrid was inconsolable, Buckbeak was dead and y/n had been in the hut with him for over an hour, listening to him tell all his best stories about the sweet creature. She felt for Hagrid, and she truly enjoyed hearing the stories, it gave her something meaningful to do with her night, and she was more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on for him. Hagrid’s latest story was interrupted by Remus unabashedly opening the door to the hut.

“Remus? What are you doing here?” Y/n stood up quickly, concern painting her face.

“Hagrid, I am very, very, sorry about Buckbeak but I need Professor y/l/n to come with me right now.” He was out of breath, but he got his point across without too much struggle.

“Oh go on, I've had yer ear for long enough.” Hagrid waved his hand signaling she could go. “I’ll be ok.” 

That was all Remus needed to hear and within seconds he had grabbed her hand and pulled her from the small house, quickly running in the opposite direction.

“Sirius is back, we need to get to the womping willow now.” 

They both quickened their pace, not knowing what was to come. The willow was angry, violently thrashing her branches into the earth. Fortunately the pair had experience dealing with the outbursts of the tree and they made it underneath with only a few scratches. Travelling through the tight tunnel under the tree they made it to the shrieking shack just in time to see Harry wrestling with Sirius. 

The next fifteen minutes were a blur, Snape had somehow made his way there and had subsequently been thrown into a bed by a spell cast by Harry, Scabbers was revealed to be Peter, Harry was thrown for a loop multiple times, demanding answers and explanations, which he got. Sirius and Remus fell into stride after the yelling had subsided, after Harry learned the truth. It was as if the past twelve years had never happened, and yet he had yet to see her. She knew Remus had it handled, she knew this was his way of getting consolation, helping Sirius. She stayed back in the hallway, watching from afar. She would be lying if she said the only reason she did that was to not get in the way, as soon as she laid eyes on his withering figure she was paralyzed the same way as the night when her world was torn to shreds. 

The Aftermath

Peter was back to being human, Remus, Harry and Sirius were all talking in a corner, Hermione was tending to Ron’s wound, and yet there she still stood in the shadows, not knowing how to make herself known to her old love. It wasn’t until her name came up in the conversation that she was finally broken out of her trance. She could hear Sirius asking about her, and Remus turned noticing for the first time that she had not followed him into the room. 

“Harry give us a moment will you?” Remus asked, “Looks like your friends could use some help.”

Harry agreed and as he walked away Remus clapped a hand onto Sirius’s back.

“Follow me will you?” He looked to his oldest friend.

Remus led him out into the small hallway, and his eyes met hers for the first time in twelve years. Her chest was heaving from adrenaline and anticipation, her lip was bloody from the force of her teeth chewing on it for ten minutes straight, her brain had no clue what to do. Her legs carried her to him, her hands touched his face, and her lips parted.

“Twelve years, twelve bloody years and you were all I could think about.” Her voice was a whisper, so quiet and unsure of itself that she didn’t even know if she said the words out loud.

“You didn’t hate me?” He was timid.

“I hated you. I hated you for so many years, but no matter how much I hated you, I still found myself loving you.” A few tears lept from her eyes at the feeling of her skin on his, at the sound of his beautiful voice.

She leaned in, kissing him in a way that made him believe they had never been apart. Their lips clashed and his hands gripped her waist so tight that even if her knees gave out she would still be standing. 

Her first love and her first hearbreak all wrapped in one. 

The Inbetween

It was difficult to say the least. They had to figure out how to be around each other again, but no matter how hard it was the love they had for each other made everything seem so easy.

Sirius’s name was cleared after many months of secret meetings in secret locations which had not seen a human for centuries. They returned to 12 Grimmauld, fell asleep together every night, and woke up with their limbs entwined every morning. She told him stories about Harry, she detailed the past twelve years, and he hung onto every word. He cried into her chest in the middle of the night, nightmares plagued his mind, but now he had comfort, something he hadn't felt in over a decade. They both chased happiness and finally caught it after those excruciating years. No higher being or evil creature would separate the two ever again. Their bliss was their defense, but they were blindsided by another war, more chaos, and history would repeat itself.

Voldemort had returned.

18th June, 1996

The cycle continues. Happiness, tragedy, mourning, numbness. One simple spell was all it took to knock him into the hands of death. One simple spell was all it took for him to be ripped away from her once more. This time for good. 

This time for eternity.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Now since Soap is canonically an artist lets turn the tables…maybe Frenchie is a sculptor or painter in a different major and Soap is taking the life drawing class. Frenchie, ever the starving artist, takes the job to model nude and guess who they’re partnered up with! For as much of a dick Soap can be he takes his art seriously and physically moves Frenchie into the poses he wants and stares so intensely while sketching.

(Bonus Points if they’re in the studio or dorm alone at night 😏)

Omg this had me basically blushing like omg 😳

Imagining Soap staring at me super intensely with his jaw all set and his eyes all hard and focused ahhhhhhh 😭💕🥵

Frenchie would be petitioning to get to go with someone else, but as with the last ask they wouldn’t get to trade. They’d be standing there all grumpy watching Soap set up his space and have their arms crossed over them, trying desperately to cover up that they super shy about opening their robe. Afterall Soap is so mean to them all the time about so many things, I could picture Frenchie doing design and Soap being all snobby about it and calling Frenchie a corporate shill, saying they were just making stuff to sell out, and not to make something that made a real difference to people.

What will he end up saying about their body?

Frenchie would be totally self conscious and in their head, going over all the imperfections they hate about their body. Would Soap get that skin thing they obsessed over? Would he draw attention to their worst features? They’d get so stressed and would start to tremble ever so slightly. I could picture Soap glancing up over his easel, about to ask Frenchie to get into position and would notice the slight shake and the dip in their posture. As much as he likes to razz them normally, he doesn’t like seeing them look worried like that…he tells himself it’s all because it wouldn’t make for a good drawing (but we all know that’s not true, he doesn’t want them to feel discomfort beyond the teasing he gives them)

He’d sigh and walk over to Frenchie, awkwardly taking his place in front of them. He’d put his arm on their shoulder and offer a half smile.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. I’m not half bad at this drawing stuff y’know,” he’d say, watching out to see if Frenchie would ease up a little. “Can I ask - do you eh…do you mind if I direct you into your poses? It would mean touching you - but just your arms and back. You can say no, I just prefer to ask my models so I can try and get the exact poses I want.”

Frenchie would be shocked at Soap being so nice and gentle with them for once and would take a deep breath. Part of them wanted to scream no and run out of the class and never come back to university again, but the other part - the one that won out - wanted to indulge him while he was being so nice.

“Uh, yeah I guess that’s ok…if I’m already doing this for you, might as well do it properly.”

Soap would smile wider and nod, giving them space so that they could disrobe.

Frenchie would still have their reservations, but would take it off after a few seconds of more agony and stand awkwardly, ever so slightly going to cover their privates up with their legs and hands.

Soap would widen his eyes at their body and swallow, not prepared for how gorgeous he found it. Though he wouldn’t linger long. He wouldn’t want to unsettle Frenchie, so he would get to directing them straight away, describing the pose he wanted while gently directing their upper arms and tilting their chin up with the slightest grace of his fingers.

Frenchie would be feeling their heart beating like crazy being touched so mindfully and gently by him. They would get little tingles bursting out over their skin every time soap touched them and would get a shiver down their spine when they noticed the way Soap looked so appreciatively up and down their body.

Soap would stand in front of Frenchie for a second, just admiring them before saying “good…that’s good. I’ll let you know when you can move, I’ll try and give you a good amount of breaks.”

And then he’d set to work. He’d be working with precision, combining long flowing curving lines with short jagged etchings, looking at Frenchie so intently and mapping every inch of their body. He’d find himself getting unusually hot as he worked and would frown every so often as he found himself just stopping and staring at his own drawings in a way he never had before. Sure, he always liked the result of his drawings but it wasn’t just that this time…he was taking the time to really appreciate Frenchie and their beautiful body.

Frenchie wouldn’t be much better off either. They’d be dealing with that terrible frisson he’d started throughout the whole session. They noted it was like some kind of ASMR effect, every time they noticed his sharpened eyes linger on a particular feature they would have to do everything to stop themselves visibly shivering like a greyhound. It’s just be so intense. They’d find their eyes getting wide and glassy as they really took their time to admire Soap while he worked. Sure he was a cocky bastard, but he was passionate and disciplined and handsome and- wait…we’re they…falling for Soap?!

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 28)

Lead number one takes them into the heart of the city where the upper class watch their theatrical performances.

Azula can't say that she hates it, she rather enjoys having an excuse to do her hair and makeup up nice and pretty. Mai helps her fashion her hair up into two twin buns with golden combs and jeweled hair sticks that boast floral cascades.

Earth Kingdom formal robes are quite comfy as well, she rather missed wearing silk instead of wool and whatever materials the Sun Warriors cut their attire from. Greens and creamy yellows aren't her best colors but TyLee says that she looks nice. Soft and cute to be exact, but nice all the same.

She always had thought that Earth Kingdom attire made her look more childlike and it isn't something that particularly pleases her. She thinks that it might be the style of headdress, or the way that the robes sit on her frame. The sleeves are so long, it makes her look smaller than she already is.

She dabs on a few more spots of blush. Decidedly, this only accentuates the innocent look. She lifts a rag to rub it away and start over…

"We should get going, the show will be starting soon and we'll need good spots if we're going to try to pick mother out." Zuko says. 

Azuka quirks a brow. "Since when are you on time to events?"

"Maybe I found your lecture about council meeting attendance to be inspiring and life changing."

"Well of course." She holds her chin up. "I am a very inspiring…"

"And terrifying…"

She elects to ignore Sokka’s addition, "person."

"Inspiring and terrifying just about sums it up." Zuko agrees.

"What do you think!?" Iroh emerges from the adjoining room wearing a large grin and a ridiculous lion-turtle mask, fixed askew on his head.

She thinks that it is over the top and unnecessary, secondhand embarrassment inducing. But at the smiles and chuckles sounding around the room, she opts to keep this to herself. Perhaps if uncle knew just how much restraint she has, all of the comments she elects not to make, he would see her as such an unkind person.

"I should get a mask." Toph mumbles. "I could sneak on stage and mess with the script. It would be an unforgettable show."

“Don’t do that.” Katara grumbles. 

“Oh come on, lighten up! We can become the Earth Kingdom’s best actresses!”

“I think that, that is a wonderful idea.” Iroh beams. He pulls the mask over his face.

“See, he gets it!” Toph spins around and snatches herself a cape. “If you don’t want to join me then Iroh can and you’ll regret it when he’s the second best actress in the Earth Kingdom and you aren’t.” 

Azula folds her arms across her chest. “I thought that Zuko said that we were in a hurry. So why are we messing around with silly costumes?”

Iroh’s goofy grin droops into that familiar half frown that she is used to him fixing her with. It is as though she had called Zuzu an embarrassing failure rather than simply making a call–albeit an agitated one–to keep them all on task. Someone has to afterall. Agni forbid Iroh act like a grown man. Evidently she is tired of his silly antics, that false sense of gentleness. Or, rather, the gentleness he can spare everyone but her. 

And then he has the audacity to pretend like he is trying to help. At least she herself and Ozai are honest and upfront about their resentments. 

“Yes, I would rather like to get on with this.” Shaw says with a yawn. The woman is dressed quite prettily herself. She has chosen a dark green gown with little dragonflies dancing up on the fabric. While father stands at her side with his hand on her shoulder. 

This also takes some getting used to–a mother and father who are actually affectionate with each other. A mother and father who stand in agreement instead of a shouting match. 

“I did say that.” Zuko speaks up, if only to keep the relative peace. 

Mother and father sense her distaste and by extension she can feel their respect for Iroh waning. They bite their tongues if only because of a kinder past. It is hard to imagine that they had taught him what he knows and she doesn’t doubt that it leaves him discontent to have friends turn on him so readily. 

She supposes that she can offer him a little shred of sympathy there. 

Katara also nods in agreement. “I think that we’re all set.” 

.oOo.

 Azula finds herself a seat. At first she can't place the source of the flutters blossoming in her tummy. Why her throat is tightening. 

She fixes her eyes  upon the show pamphlet. 'Underground: Life of a Badgermole.'  She can't tell if she is attending a children's show or a show with pooer writing and forced metaphors. Either which way she can't imagine that it will hold a candle to Fire Nation theater. 

But, regardless, it certainly reminds her of trips to Ember Island. Shimmering, golden days when it had seemed like their family could be a functional one. Or, at the very least, a distant but tolerable one.

The seat next to her dips but where she expects to see either mother or father she sees Sokka instead. “You look like you’re thinking too hard about something.” He observes. 

“I’m thinking about how mother or father should be sitting here.” 

Father promptly lifts Sokka from the chair and sits him in the next one over.

“Oh come on! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly enough to draw looks from the more uppity, pretentious theater attendees. She can’t tell if his wince is from the shame of having been handed several harsh ‘sshhh’s’ or from having been so easily ejected by father.

She is inclined to say that it is the latter. “Hey!” He declares just as loudly and the glowers intensify. “I was sitting there first.” 

Mother slips into the other empty seat to the left of her. “He is making quite a scene.” She mutters. 

“Indeed.” Azula agrees. “He’s got such a talent with that, that it’s almost admirable. Although he hasn’t topped Zuzu yet.”

He is practically bouncing up and down from one foot through the other. “You can’t just steal a man’s chair! Don’t dragons have an honor code.”

Ran cracks a smile. “We have a duty to our family. Do not impede. Your kind have already done that enough.”

“Why do you want to sit by me so badly anyhow?” Azula shrugs. 

“Because Toph talks through the whole play, Katara and Zuko always complain about the acting, and Aang always accidentally nudges my seat. I can’t say for sure, but I feel like TyLee would talk even more than Toph!”

“She does yap through the whole show, yes.” Azula confirms. “What about Mai?”

“She’s too unenthusiastic. I want to be able to have an intellectual discussion about art and I think that I’ll find it here…” he points to father. “In this spot.” 

“I am a dragon of culture.” Ran nods. 

“I’m talking about Azula!” He pauses and sputters a quick, “although you’re also probably a great guy to have in depth discussions with, because she probably gets her…her…” he trails off and points to his own head. “Thinking brain stuff from you.”

“Thinking brain stuff?” Azula quirks a brow. “Are yous sure that you can handle a classy, sophisticated discussion?”

“Yes!” He insists. “And we could have a great one if I could sit in the spot that my butt touched first.” 

Azula looks back at the pamphlet. “I’m not sure how intellectual we can get with a play about burrowing badgermoles.” 

“We can find out.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “If I could have my seat back.” He locks eyes with father. Azula has to admit that she is rather impressed; father’s glare is scathing and unwavering. Although Sokka’s is awkward and tense, he holds it.

“Do you want to sit with the loud human?”

Azula hums, “I suppose that I can.” 

Ran gives Sokka a pat on the shoulder and gestures to the now vacant spot.

“Where are you going to sit, father?”

Shaw stands, lets Ran take his new seat, and makes herself comfortable in his lap. “Right here.” He replies. 

She finds herself swallowing another lump in her throat. So long ago, she remembers falling asleep, leaning against Ozai during act four or five of Love Amongst The Dragons. Zuko had dozed off during act three and was well into a fit of snores that truly only Ursa could love. She might have given him a good kick had she not been in Ozai’s lap by that point. 

She had really felt like he truly loved her. 

And maybe he had at once point. Maybe he had cherished her truly when her cheeks were still puffy and round and her hands were still tiny and easy to hold, when her mouth was missing a few teeth. And maybe for a moment, Ursa saw her as a child, a born human child just like Zuko. Because she remembers feeling Ursa’s hand on her back, rubbing in small circles. She remembers the tickle of Ozai’s beard on he forehead and the smell of his robes–ceder incense and ash–as she nuzzled into him. 

She remembers waking up in her room the next day asking when they’d get to see another play. 

“You didn’t even like the one we just went to.” Ozai had laughed. She remembers that laugh. And Ursa had too. They used to laugh a lot together. 

And he had been right, she hated the play. But she loved the atmosphere. How, for just a moment, she was Ursa’s precious baby and Zuko was Ozai’s favorable son.

That was the real act, there in the crowd and not on the stage.

“Are you alright?” Sokka asks. 

“I’m fine.” Azula mumbles. “Why do you ask?” She realizes that she had been gritting her teeth, bunching the fabric of her robes in her fists.

“You’re crying.” 

“I am not.” 

But mother wipes a single tear from her cheek. 

“I’m fine.” Sometimes it just hits hard, the life that she could have had. The comforts and joys. The warmth and the love. All of that cast away for something cold and cruel. Mother and father know that she isn’t alright, it still bleeds through their bond. 

It is both comforting and mortifying all at once. She can’t hide anything from them yet. She hasn’t mastered the ability. But father retracts himself from her mind and mother follows. They usually do when they start to detect her discomfort. 

Though while they retreat mentally, mother cups her hand over Azula’s.

“Your family used to see plays together.” Sokka comments. “Zuko mentioned that on Ember Island. He was pretty somber about it too, especially when Katara found that baby picture of Ozai…”

Azula cracks a smile. “He always hated when Ursa pulled that out.”

“It brings everyone else joy.” Sokka chuckles. His sheepish grin fades with her own. “It’s bittersweet isn’t it?”

Azula nods. “I’ll be fine.” She insists again. 

And she will be, because this time when the curtains close the acting will be done. The loving family that she had in the theater seat will be there when they get back to the Jasmine Dragon and remain endlessly after. 

“It has just been a while since I’ve seen a play with family.”

Sokka nods, “well I’ll keep my mouth shut then and let you enjoy family time.” 

Azula rolls her eyes. “You can talk, Sokka. Just don’t say dumb things.” 

The curtains open and, at least for a time, she can forget about the things that trouble her. She thinks that it would do her well to actually turn her mind off for a change and decompress. Evidently she finds that Earth Kingdom theater is just as dull as what the Ember Island Players offer. 

Sokka is shaking her awake and the curtains have closed.