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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

Note

you asked for hard thots and i can’t shake the absolute cesspit of brainrot that is vernon as your long-term-best-friend who is also your “platonic”-but-why-is-this-so-intense-why-is-he-looking-at-me-like-that date to a family wedding, in your hotel room afterwards and roasting your choice in pyjamas b4 ploughing you into the mattress😔✌🏻

anon u are so sexy for this ask ilysm <333 please tho I am EATING THIS UP, sorry it took me some time (uh oh this is NOT a drabble) but I hope you enjoy it, my dear!!! (i don't know if I did a great job making it super intense as it's a bit more lighthearted, but nonetheless, I hope it hits the mark!)

warnings: smut (minors DNI i will bite and block), some plot at the beginning, mutual pining, teasing, fem! reader but no pronouns, unprotected sex, cunnilingus (female receiving), let me know if i'm missing anything w/c: ~2.5k

"When does it end," you groan, finally peeling off those pesky heels that you've somehow managed to wear the whole wedding and falling back into the comfort of the springy hotel mattress. You're immediately curling into a little ball, hands massaging the aching balls of your feet. "This is like the millionth wedding we've been to this year."

Vernon watches you amusedly, removing his own suit jacket and discarding it onto the decorative armchair. Snorting, Vernon states the obvious, "a million weddings in one year would be impossible, Y/N."

"No shit, Sherlock," you laugh, rolling your eyes as you sit back up, already feeling your eyes falling heavy after the night you've had entertaining your family's antics. "Thanks for saving me yet again though. It's nice having a friend at these things, makes the time go by a lot faster."

A dejected sigh from Vernon goes unnoticed as you spring back up to your feet and walk to the bathroom, PJs crumpled in hand whilst you continue to ramble and rant about your family.

"But seriously, how many weddings can my family have in one year? Also, why are they so convinced we're together? I don't know how many times I have to reiterate that you are my best friend to them? They've known you for like how many years now?"

You can hear Vernon humming in agreement as you unzip your dress in the safety of the bathroom, a soft shuffling sound in the other room indicating that he is rooting through his own suitcase. You hope he doesn't hear the wavering of your voice as you mention the word 'best friend' yet again.

Admittedly, it's been slowly becoming harder to read Vernon these past few months, even though he's been your friend for as many years as you can count on two hands and then some. You had invited him to be your plus one to one of the many weddings you had to attend this year a few months ago, and ever since then you've been quelling thoughts of 'what if?'

Vernon has to suppress another snort when you emerge from the bathroom, the sudden reappearance of you in your tattered, old pajamas has him smiling crookedly in amusement.

"I'm sorry, but what are those?"

"What are what?" You look like a deer in headlights, hands dropping to your sides before taking in fistfuls of your pajama bottoms that should have been retired a long time ago. "Are you making fun of my pajamas?"

Vernon's laugh and smile are enough to make your heart feel like it's about to pound its way out of your chest, your own awkward chuckle combining with his as he approaches you.

"Y/N," he sighs, shaking his head with that ridiculous smile of his still adorning his features, eyes twinkling as he makes you spin for him. "These are ridiculous, how old are these pajamas?"

You shrug, still fisting the extremely soft material as you ponder jokingly about his question. "Maybe like 10 years. What? Do you not find Hello Kitty pajama bottoms cute?"

Vernon and you hold eye contact for a second longer until you are both bursting out into laughter.

"Cute," he ponders adoringly, pinching your arm before heading to the bathroom to change into his own pajamas. "Sure thing."

The interaction has your cheeks burning, noting the way Vernon seems to drink you in before going to change, soft eyes observing you in adoration briefly.

Yet again, you're quick to shake yourself out of it, shuffling into the hotel bed and cuddling with the heavy covers. Still, you're left to your own thoughts.

Why does he keep looking at you like that? It's that same stupid, endearing look in his eyes that seem to soften every time you come into view. It's the kind of look that makes your heart beat a little too fast for your liking. It's that kind of look that has you returning to those 'what if' thoughts.

Vernon is soon joining you in the bed, slipping under the sheets comfortably and shimmying in closer to you, utilizing your body heat as a source of warmth.

You've shared a bed with Vernon many times before, during sleepovers when you were children all the way to accompanying you in bed to make sure you were okay after a night of heavy drinking.

However, you swear with each wedding that you grow uneasier being this close in proximity to him. You are no longer able to avoid the ebbing feeling of butterflies fluttering in your lower stomach.

Vernon hums contently to himself as he relaxes deeper into the sheets and turns to face you. The soft sound of his breathing has goosebumps running down the back of your neck and you don't think you can bear to look at him, so you opt to flip around onto your side and face away from him.

You can practically feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head, your hair burning and ears tingling knowing that he is staring at you. It's making you feel restless, so you turn around with a hmph to face him once again.

"What," you whisper harshly, even though it's just you two in this dark, hotel room. The only bit of light is the soft, blue flickering light of the TV that Vernon refuses to turn off. "Why do you keep staring at me? You did it earlier when you picked me up for the wedding, on the dance floor, and even when I changed into my pajamas. You've been doing that too much lately."

He seems a bit guilty, jaw falling slack as his eyes become saucer-like, yet there is still a palpable tension in his stare. "What do you mean? I'm just looking at you."

"Like that!? Who looks at someone like that!" You exclaim, one hand escaping from underneath the covers to motion to his face, the other arm now propping you up to get a better look at him.

Vernon seems to be deep in thought for a second, thick eyebrows bunching up as he takes note of your frazzled demeanor. He also takes note of the undeniable blush that can still be seen even in the dim lighting.

"Y-you-" you're stuttering idiotically at this point, tripping over your words as he continues to stare intently at you.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" His voice is soft and raspy. It shuts you up for a second as you blink stupidly down at his painfully handsome bare face.

You're falling face first into your pillow, groaning loudly and shoving your face deeper into the plush fabric to escape the prison that his gaze has you in.

"No," you mumble loudly into the pillow. "It doesn't. I just feel weird."

He's laughing and it has you smiling like a fool into the pillow. There go those darn butterflies in your stomach again. "It makes you feel weird?"

You sit back up, this time crossing your legs and readjusting so you're not laying next to him. He's way too calm and cool for your liking, not liking the way his lips fall into a lopsided smile as he watches you adjust yourself.

"I don't know, Vernon. I don't know what I feel when you stare at me like that."

"Do you like it?" He's still unserious, but his voice is teetering between what seems like amusement and hopefulness. Your hands are subconsciously playing with the tattered hem of your pajama bottoms, and the habitual motion is enough for Vernon to grasp your hand with his.

"Maybe."

One heartbeat.

Another heartbeat.

Oh god, your ears are pounding from the way he's looking at you.

Vernon is tugging on your hand and pulling you into him, soft lips colliding with yours and knocking the wind out of you.

"Do you like this," he pulls away for a second, seeming just as breathless as you.

"Yes, I do."

"Cool," it's such a Vernon response, but in this case it's almost dizzying. With that, he's pulling you back in, lips hungrily reconnecting with yours, and both of his hands are coming up to cup your face to help guide you as he licks into your mouth.

The kiss is just as intense as his stare, almost as if Vernon is channeling all that pent-up energy into the delicate care and passion encapsulated by his lips on yours.

You feel as if you could overheat when his hands travel from your jaw all the way down to your hips, playing with the waistband of your pajamas. He grabs hold of your hips and flips you onto your back, never once disconnecting from you as he nibbles and suckles on your bottom lip.

"These," he finally breaks away, eyes roaming wildly over your features, and snapping the waistband of your bottoms against your skin. "These ridiculous things have to go."

"Please," you mewl, eyes screwed shut in need as his fingertips continue to tease at your hipbones. "Take them off, Vernon."

He's chuckling, but this time it's almost teasing, the sound making arousal burn at your core when he begins to tug at your bottoms. Your hips buck upwards to help him slip the slinky material off your body, ultimately turning Vernon's chuckle into a pained groan upon being greeted by your dripping pussy.

"Y/N," he mumbles softly, hands running up and down your thighs after discarding your bottoms. "Can I please?"

"Can you please what?" You know what he's asking, but seeing him look so desperate between your legs has you wanting to hear it directly.

"Can I taste you?"

You're nodding profusely, yelping in pleasure when he dives down between your legs, rough hands wrapping around both your thighs to keep you still as his wet tongue comes in contact with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck," you're immediately panting, his tongue working quickly as it runs firm circles around your clit. Vernon is staring up at you from between your thighs, thick eyebrows raised and dark, hungry eyes catching yours once again. "F-fuck, Vernon, you're giving me that look again."

This time he raises one brow, tongue running down your pussy and plunging teasingly into your sopping cunt. "What look?" He mumbles into your core, "taste so good, Y/N."

At this point, the warmth and pressure of his tongue has you reeling, the burning pit of arousal in your lower stomach heightening as he continues to messily eat you out. You're soon pushed over the edge, walls pulsing as Vernon continues to work his tongue from your little hole to your clit.

You're fisting a handful of his hair, feeling overstimulated way too fast after your first release, and pulling him back up. He's quick to engulf you in another kiss, the flavor of your lips and juices like ecstasy on his tongue.

He's shuffling out of his own pajama bottoms as you plea between fleeting kisses, begging to have him fill you. Vernon's innocence resurfaces for a minute as he panics, realizing there is no way he packed a condom. (He's not looking for a random hook-up at your family weddings, nor did he think this would ever actually happen, no matter how long he's pined over you.)

"Fuck, Vernon," you moan, pussy throbbing in need as Vernon continues to rut his length teasingly between your folds whilst he searches for a condom anywhere - maybe there is one in his wallet. "Just fuck me without one. I'm clean and on the pill."

"Ah," he hisses, the thought of you taking him raw making him feel like he could burst. "I'm clean too, are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure," you confirm, hands grabbing at him to pull him closer to you.

"F-Fuck, Y/N," he's obliging, his thick, leaky tip dipping in between your folds and sinking into your tight, little cunt. His body shakes as he plunges deep inside of you, hips bottoming out and getting sucked in completely by your walls.

You're shaking too, heavy breaths soothing you as you adjust to his thickness and length. He wasn't massive, but he was more than enough to deliciously stretch you out. Vernon's convinced he could bust just from the feeling of your walls fluttering and adjusting around him, staring down at you with starry eyes as your face contorts in pleasure.

Vernon suddenly feels as if he has a purpose, watching as your jaw falls slack when he experimentally pulls out just to thrust back in, immediately finding the spongey spot deep in your core.

He's addicted to your reactions, the way you look so beautiful with each precise thrust and spear of his cock inside of you. He's memorizing the way your eyes roll back and clamp shut, remembering how your pouty lips scream his name, noting how your cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink.

Vernon's come to realize he can't get enough of you. He's going to forever be hooked on everything about you, and now that he's tasted and felt your perfect pussy, you won't ever get rid of him.

This passion he feels is reflected in the way he roughly fucks you, hips snapping into yours just to pull another delightful moan from your lips. You can feel the bed rocking as he fucks even deeper into your pussy, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you feel your impending orgasm build.

His motions slowly become sloppy, and the explicit squelching of your walls sucking him in has him groaning with each messy rut of his hips. Vernon is still keen on watching you though, wanting to see your features as you come undone beneath him.

"C'mon, Y/N," he beckons, his length continuing to fill you so perfectly as your walls flutter around him. He can feel you getting impossibly tighter, loving the way your legs keep him close as he pounds into you. "Look at me, please, let me see you."

You're listening to him, eyes opening to look back at him in the same way he's looking at you. There's that damn look again, but this time it has you falling apart for him. The way your walls spasm around his cock and the orgasmic glow of your features has him coming with you, filling you deeply with his cum as your core throbs in pleasure from the intensity of your orgasm mixing with his.

You're absolutely fucked out, the two of you breathless as Vernon reluctantly pulls out, and opts to clean you up quickly. You can't help but hide your face when he happily joins you back in bed, that same stupid look on his features that landed him here in the first place.

You're positive you'll be receiving a noise complaint from the hotel. Hopefully, none of the other wedding guests are staying around you, especially after you've been parading around with him as your "platonic" friend for the past few months (ahem, years).

#seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #chwe vernon smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #hansol vernon chwe smut #[💌] anon #[💌] asks #i love you for this #i love me some vernon hard thots

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midnightsnyx · 1 year

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blurb for jack hughes + “I’m not jealous! It’s just that, you’re mine!” please?

hi ty for the request!!🩵 send a request for a blurb/insta edit!

Everybody knew that the relationship between you and Jack was… interesting. You’d been friends as long as you can remember but the last couple years, something began to change. You were hovering on the line of being just friends, or being more. You both knew that you wanted more, but neither of you would dare to try and change it in fear that it would ruin your friendship.

So, you played a game. It was immature and stupid which your mutual friends constantly made comments about but you couldn’t help it. Anytime you went out to a bar or a party, you both tried to make each other jealous. Neither of you admitted it, but it was there. Both of you waiting for the other to crack but you weren’t raised a quitter.

You’re at some random party that’s being hosted by a mutual friend and you decided that Trevor would be who you used tonight. You knew he found it comical, so he played along. Jack is sitting with a pretty brunette but his eyes are locked on you the entire time. She doesn’t seem to mind or maybe she doesn’t notice. Either way, you spent the majority of the night curled up next to Trevor, chatting about random things but you kept your eye on Jack. Normally, it didn’t bother him much because you both knew that neither of you would be going home with your chosen victim but you thought maybe it was because it was his close friend, that it bothered him more.

At some point, he excuses himself from the girl he is with and goes to the kitchen, glancing at you once more. There’s something in his expression that makes you decide to follow and you hear Trevor mutter “finally” under his breath when you leave.

You find Jack in the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. His shoulders are tense and when he turns to find you standing there, he seems surprised before he schools his expression. He leans against the counter, raising a brow.

“Get sick of Zegras?”

Scoffing, you walk towards him until you’re only a couple feet away. “Did you get sick of that girl?”

His jaw clenches and he looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. You decide to take the chance to talk about the constant elephant in the room.

“It’s alright if you’re jealous,” you say quietly, watching his reaction carefully.

“I’m not,” he snaps, looking away for a moment before looking back at you. “I’m not jealous, it’s just- it’s just that you’re mine.”

“Huh,” you reply walking to the fridge and getting yourself a drink. His eyes follow you as you walk back so you’re standing in front of him. “Does that mean you’re giving in?”

His eyes bore into yours and he has more emotion in his eyes than you’re expecting.

“Why are we doing this? Playing this stupid game?”

You look at the floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He’s right, you’ve both been doing this to each other for longer than you should’ve. It was fun at first, but you know that eventually one of you will get sick of it and finally decide that it’s not worth it. That playing this game isn’t worth it and find someone else.

So you shrug and look back at him. “I guess I’m scared.”

He puts his drink down and closes the space between the two of you, gently taking the bottle of beer your holding and putting it on the counter. He hesitates before putting his hand under your chin and lifting your head so that you’re looking at him.

“I’m scared too, you know.”

“Yeah?”

He smiles crookedly, “we’ve been friends a long time. Once we cross that line, we can’t go back but if you’re willing, I’m ready to cross it.”

You let yourself think of what can happen. You rarely do, not liking thinking about the what ifs because it always caused you to rethink what you were doing to each other. Sure, you could decide to try being in a real relationship with each other and it could crash and burn. It might not work out but what if it does? Is the risk worth it?

Looking at him, hair wild and out of control and green eyes locked on yours, you decide that yeah, maybe the risk is worth it. So you nod and when he leans towards you, you meet him halfway.

#hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #allies writing #nhl blurb #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #Jack Hughes blurb

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sebastianswallows · 1 year

Text

It's not like any other love | S.S. | Part 2

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is obsessive, lonely, and touch-starved. So when he’s sitting with his new friend in the Courtyard and she picks up a cat to pet it, he gets even more needy and longs for a bit of that gentleness and affection from her. Also, she reminds him a bit of his sister and he doesn’t know how to feel about it (possessive, he feels possessive).

— WARNINGS: angst, jealousy, requited unrequited love, pining, touch-starved Seb having a lot of lustful and confused thoughts which will (spoilers) eventually lead to using Imperio

— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

— A/N: A sequel to this. So yeah, this is now a multichapter thing. I spent most of today writing, and it was more fun than I’ve had in a while. I have a bit more written down but I’ll save it for the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it, my dears! 😘

After exploring the Scriptorium, the three of them made their way out, and on Ominis’ insistence never spoke of it again — at least, not when he was around. With his soft serpentine steps, it was easy for him to sneak up on Sebastian and their friend when they weren’t looking, but through whispers and passed notes the two agreed they had to meet somewhere and talk.

Sebastian still had Slytherin’s spellbook and read it alone in a few frantic sessions late at night, scribbling notes and passages and making quite a mess of ink on his sleeves and trousers. He kept it with him all the time, afraid of who would find it, but didn’t dare to take it out when he was anywhere in public. He spent long hours in the library, using his notes to cross-reference the spellbook with other tomes on the region's history and dark magic. The mention of a relic that could heal curses was particularly intriguing — and that part about needing a sacrifice was just another detail for later.

The late nights weren’t doing Sebastian any favours. He was regularly late for breakfast and usually found Ominis already there, talking to their new 5th-year friend — who lit up when she saw him, while Ominis gave his most reserved of smiles.

“Ready for Herbology, Sebastian?” she asked in a chipper tone, but her brows were raised in questioning and her eyes, sharp and observant, lingered on his hair that was more tousled than usual, his tie that was crookedly done, his collar askew, before settling quite boldly on the dark circles beneath his eyes.

Ominis sipped his hot chocolate while he listened. He had no reason to suspect anything was strange about Sebastian these last few days, but he suspected nonetheless.

“I suppose,” said Sebastian as he quickly filled his plate with toast and sausages. The roughness of his voice probably gave him away to Ominis as well. “But if it’s another session of screaming mandrakes, I might just dig a hole for myself.”

“I’m sure it’s a paradox for the professors,” Ominis began, directing a crooked smile his way, “how someone who spends so much time in the library is such a middling student.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirked, winking at their friend. “I’m everyone’s favourite student. They all want to spend time with me.”

“That’s called Detention, Sebastian.”

They only had some twenty minutes left to go before classes began, and Sebastian wasn’t even halfway through with breakfast when his two friends got up to leave. Moving quickly, he placed his hand over the girl’s, his eyes quietly pleading for her to stay a little longer.

“We’ll see you later,” said Ominis.

“Actually, I think I’ll stay a little longer too,” the girl said as she sat down again.

Ominis took in a quiet breath. “Alright,” he said, back straight and wand at the ready to guide him out. “Mind that you won’t be late for class.”

“We won’t,” she giggled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Ominis gave her a sideways smile and left.

She let her hand stay under Sebastian’s warm ink-stained fingers while he explained that he was ready to make a breakthrough with the book and had to speak to her about it. She hadn’t read much of it yet, but she knew enough from the Scriptorium to maybe help. Even if she couldn’t, he wanted her to be there with him.

“What about Ominis?” she asked.

“He wouldn’t understand,” Sebastian said, managing to sound dismissive but being, beneath everything, quite sad. They were best friends, each other’s oldest friends not counting Anne, and the purest, most innocent parts of Sebastian wanted to share everything with Ominis, even when he was jealous, even when he was resentful of him, or frustrated.

“Alright, we can go somewhere after Charms at 11 o’clock. We should have more time to talk before lunch.”

“Deal,” said Sebastian. “Anywhere you’d like.”

She liked the Clock Tower Courtyard. It was a place dear to him as well with the duelling club being so close, a place that marked a special chapter of their friendship. They went there together after class, walking in silence while the tension between them grew with the things they left unsaid.

They sat on the edges of the fountain, where the trickle of the water and blasts of duellists coming from behind muffled their quiet conversation. Sebastian rested along its length with his back against one of the pillars, arm slung over his left bended knee, the other leg left dangling. Beside him, the girl sat with her legs swinging together, ankles crossed. She leaned back on her hands and dipped her fingers to play with the water now and then.

“So what are these Inferi, exactly?” she asked distractedly after he was done telling her about the relic he’d read about.

“Corpses brought back to life with dark magic,” he shrugged. “They’re a type of Undead.”

“Can you kill them?” she asked, straight to the point. A girl after his own heart.

“Yes,” he said. “With fire. They’re invulnerable to most other types of spells.”

“So, Confringo,” she grinned, turning to look at him.

“It’s not my favourite for nothing,” Sebastian smirked.

Her attention was soon drawn away again by a cat prowling gently through the courtyard, a tiger-stripped one with dark grey fur. It made its way toward the two of them, drawn in by her swinging legs.

“And this relic can control them?” asked the girl as she leaned down and picked the cat up.

“So said this student of Slytherin’s… Who,” he continued, leaning in to whisper even softer, “I suspect might have been Merlin.”

“You think so?” she asked, looking once again at him, lips parted in wonder.

Sebastian hugged his knee to his chest as he moved closer to her. “It is well known that Merlin was his student, and lived around that time, and from the notes, it seems the two of them had the same make of wand.”

“Many wizards have the same type of wands…”

“Yes, but how many would old Slytherin trust with an expedition like this? And with such a rare and dangerous relic?”

The girl hummed as she settled the cat over her lap. It purred and circled and nuzzled her hand before flopping on its side.

“In any case, that spellbook is a precious historical item,” she said. “We’ll probably have to give it to the professors at some point.”

“Maybe,” said Sebastian, leaning back again. “But not before I’m through with it.”

“Don’t kill yourself over it, though,” she said, turning a pleading look toward him. “It won’t do your sister any good if you —”

“You’re starting to sound like Ominis,” he sighed.

“Because we’re both worried about you,” she said, and held his doubtful gaze until he relented and looked away.

They were quiet after that, the space between them filled with the lightest trickle of the fountain and the purring of the cat. Sebastian looked up to find it sprawled over on its back and curled like a croissant, eyes closed as the girl pet its little forehead. Cupped in her other hand, she held its paws and ran her thumb over the small black beans.

Her fingers were long and nimble, and she took her time running the tips slowly through the fur, over the short dark lashes of its eyes — closed shut, serene, very content with the treatment — and then along its short broad nose, the puffy cheeks, the long white whiskers… In a storm of purrs, the cat opened its eyes and looked blearily up into hers, the green and slitted and upside-down gaze disappearing with each long blink before peeking out again.

The girl’s touch was so gentle, and her smile so warm, so happy, even after Severin had been demanding and difficult and stubborn with her all afternoon… But she never seemed upset with him.

On the contrary, she was there for him, with him, in turns understanding and consoling him depending on what he needed most. Sebastian was a bit contrite about his behaviour as of late, from cursing her and making her scream and cry, to having to hide their meetings from Ominis, and he dearly wished that circumstances had been different. That they had met sooner, that Anne had never been cursed, that he didn’t have to risk his friendship with Ominis — or with her, for that matter. And most of all, right now, he wished that she would pet him like that, that she would hold his messy head in her lap and curl his hair around her little fingers, brushing the worries off his brow, and look at him so lovingly.

“Have you seen her lately?” she quietly asked.

Sebastian looked up to find her waiting for his reply.

“Who?”

“Anne.”

“Oh,” he said, hand curling into a fist over his knee. “Not really. Uncle Solomon hasn’t been too welcoming.” An absurdity, in his opinion — as if Uncle Solomon got to decide what happened with their family. “I can’t wait to be freed from his stupendous guardianship,” he spat, “Anne and I both… If she survives that long.”

Sebastian looked down and shook his head, trying to chase out of it the dark thoughts that always circled when he thought of Anne these days, and then he felt a hand clasp his own. He looked up to find his friend cupping her palm over his knuckles, smiling in that encouraging way she did when she didn’t really believe in him but tried to support him anyway. She looked so much like Anne for that brief moment, with her drawn and tired face and hopeful eyes.

As they added to their adventures together over the past weeks, she’d started to remind him more and more of Anne each day. At first, there was just something about her that seemed familiar to him, but gradually it dawned on Sebastian why he felt as if he knew her more intimately than he did. The twinkle in her eye at every fight out in the wild, the frail body holding such fierce powers, the open lust for risky spells.

Her support, her trust, her willingness to walk down the same dark path as him, hand in hand…

Her eyes, her lips, even her voice at times…

Perhaps it’s just that he misses Anne so much that he conjures her up in the only female presence that has any consistency around him and Ominis. He wonders absently if Ominis does the same… He and Anne were, and still are, very close. Had he too noticed any similarities between the two girls? Did it ever colour his feelings for her? Would he even admit it… Probably not.

Sebastian takes her hand in his, smiles back as brightly as he can, and tries to convey with a look what he doesn’t dare to say.

The spell between the two of them is broken when the cat jumps off her lap, no doubt upset that the girl’s affections stopped. It rolled up and stretched its front paws, claws coming out, then hopped off of her knees.

“Oh no,” she said, “come back!”

“Wait,” laughed Sebastian, “I want to try something.”

Before she could ask what he had in mind, he picked his wand up and cast Levioso on the running feline, then a quick Accio, and in a rumple of fur, the cat was pulled through the air toward them. Interesting, he thought, the spell works on hair as well.

“Sebastian!” he chastised, but couldn’t keep from laughing. “How could you?”

“What?” he chuckled, waving the cat closer to them until it landed on her lap again. “I didn’t hurt it.”

“Still, that’s mean,” she said, petting it to smooth the fur that was affected by the spell.

“Why is it alright to cast it on trolls but not cats?”

“You can’t even compare the two. Cats are gentle and beautiful,” she said as she continued her caresses.

“Yes,” he softly said, looking at her with undisguised longing, “I guess that counts for something.”

“Poor thing,” she cooed, searching the creature behind the ears, “he pulled you all the way here. Like dragging you by the tail.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I’m sure a lot of students do that,” he laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure they do,” she grinned.

“You know, there’s a safer way to get an animal to come to you, now that I think about it.”

The girl looked up at him with the slip of a knowing smile on her face. “I’m sure there are a lot of ways,” she said. “Which do you mean? Conjuring toys or treats?”

“Don’t think you can summon treats,” he said, hooking his leg off the edge of the fountain to come sit side by side with her. “It’s another of the unforgivables,” he whispered. “Mentioned in the student’s notes.”

“You would not!” she gasped. “What sort of spell is it?”

“That’s the thing, it’s harmless!”

“Then why is it an unforgiv—”

“Because it places the victim completely under the caster’s control,” he said, looking into her eyes and searching for any hints of fear or hesitation.

She bit her lip as she looked back at him, gaze travelling down to his fleshy mouth and back up to his warm brown eyes. “What is it called?”

“Imperio.”

The girl was quiet as she thought about it, her hand never ceasing its absentminded caress of the creature on her lap.

“I still wouldn’t use it on a cat,” she laughed airily. “But it would be —”

“Useful against enemies,” and others, he thought.

Sebastian leaned toward her the slightest bit required to reach the cat as well, and pet it gently on the head. Immediately, it started purring at his touch, and he couldn’t help but smile at the small peaceful moment. The cat luxuriated in the pampering of the two of them, curling its tail around her wrist, claws flexing out of paw pads, and against the back of his hand, Sebastian could feel the girl’s knees rubbing against each other beneath her skirt.

“So, would you like to learn it?” he asked in a breathy whisper.

And that’s how they decided to skip lunch and visit the Undercroft again.

#Sebastian Sallow #Hogwarts Legacy #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Ominis Gaunt #fanfic;any other love #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics

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bookish-blood · 4 days

Text

Hypothermia

It had been a fucking stupid idea to go investigating by themselves. But Keyleth had been so tired of being The Voice of the Tempest that she had taken the first chance to get out of Zephrah and ran with it. No more decisions. No more leading. Just being Keyleth and leaving everything behind for a few days. Not Vax, though. Never Vax.

Vax. He had tried being the voice of reason, but he had been no match for her storm. So instead of taking more Blades with them, they went alone to check out the sightings of some young white dragon in the mountains just beyond Zephrah’s borders. And instead of taking the time to collect more information and make a plan and fucking prepare, they were now trudging through the snow, pulling their cloaks around them.

Keyleth nearly didn’t hear Vax above the howling of the wind, it’s voice so unlike the one it usually spoke with her, and he tugged on her arm for good measure. “We need to seek shelter!”

She nodded and briefly closed her eyes, trying to remember what she knew of those mountains. “Let’s look for a cave.”

Vax nodded and tugged her along. The longer they walked, the more Keyleth noticed his blue lips, his staggering steps. If her impulsiveness was what would kill him in the end… She’d never forgive herself. Not that she would have a lot of time to try as soon as Vex found out.

By sheer luck they stumbled upon a cave soon after. Vax now shivered uncontrollably, so much so that he wasn’t able to get the bit of firewood they did bring out of his pack. Keyleth stilled his hands, flinching when she felt their coldness. “Let me.” With a whisper and a careful breath, she conjured a bonfire that crackled as merrily as if it had burned for hours already. Next, she nearly closed the entrance completely, trying to seal as much warmth as possible while still allowing enough oxygen in. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

“Pretty forward, are we.” Vax smirked at her crookedly, the effect lessened even more by the chattering of his teeth. “Well, if you insist.”

“Keep being silly and see where that gets you.” His usually dextrous fingers were no help at all. Keyleth tried to rub warmth in them in between peeling off his layers.

He laughed. Or tried to, at least. “Pretty far, usually.” He shivered again and tried to move closer to the fire, but tried to bat her off, when Keyleth piled her spare clothes on him. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Come on, sit on the blanket. And take that one, too.”

“Keyleth.” With shaking hands, he started moving the clothes off him. “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t.” And neither will you. “Trust me?” It wasn’t a fair question. She knew. She could see it in his frown, see it in his warm, deep eyes. Vax would rather kiss Syldor’s shoes than even thinking about breathing a word about her being not worth his trust and everybody else’s. A knowledge that scared her as much as it gave her confidence.

“I’ll always trust you. Doesn’t mean I put trusting you over losing you.”

There was a thickness in her throat that must have stemmed from the cold, and a burning behind her eyes that had to be born from the wind. “You won’t lose me.” Not this day, anyway. Making sure Vax was bundled up, she sat back. Bones broke and tendons ripped as her body transformed, woman giving way to tiger. Immediately, her brain went quieter. Not quiet, by any means, but any fear of future turned into a humming background noise, as Minxie took over just a little bit.

“Of course.” Vax huffed out a breath as she curled around and against him, trying not to get knocked over by a giant cat. One hand found its way through layers and layers of cloth, until he could pet her head lying in his lap, rubbing her ears with still unsteady hands. “If I get a whiff of you beating yourself up about how it went, I will kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore.”

Minxie growled lowly but burrowed deeper in his touch.

“Yes, even as a tiger.”

#critter genfic bingo #vaxleth #vax'ildan #keyleth #vox machina #i haven't written in ages but wanted to give it a try #hope you like it

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authurials · 2 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ... 3/3

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . finally, in the aftermath of your wedding, you and harwin can start to work towards the future you both deserve

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / two

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations, oral sex (female receiving), slight breeding kink

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . the finale of my three part harwin miniseries is here! i do intend to write for harwin again eventually but i want to focus in on my longer fanfic works (most of which are aemond centric) so for now our strong man is being put on the shelf. remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 of the finest Dornish wine on your tongue and laughter on your lips, you leaned over to give your husband yet another kiss; you would never get tired of that word–husband. The sound of it inside your mind, and as it came out of your mouth, brushed the corners of your psyche with its delicious implication. Harwin was finally your husband; you couldn’t help but smile against the scruff of his beard at the thought, fingers reaching up to tug on the loose curls of his hair as you pulled away with a content sigh.

“You are happy then, my wife?” Harwin chuckled, rubbing your noses together before reaching for another kiss.

Wife–that was right; you were as much Harwin’s wife as he was your husband–two souls intertwined like the twin ribbons of a braid; tonight you had been joined together as one with the Seven and your families bearing witness, and now they all had come to celebrate the union with a small feast. Your fathers and Larys were present, of course, but after the ceremony friends of yours and Harwin’s had joined to partake in the celebration. You all sat around the long wooden table in Lyonel’s apartments, a spread of food and drink laid before you by his servants–nothing too extravagant but enough to fill your stomachs and wet the tongue.

“I am very happy,” you confirm.

“Good, I would never see you weary again,” Harwin smiled warmly.

Blushing, you looked away and reached for your cup of wine, taking a sip as you tried to still your beating heart. Now that Harwin and you no longer had to hide what lay between you, a part of you did not know what to do with yourself. Surely enough this union did make things a lot simpler, but what if you had no idea what it meant to be in the public eye? Even now, you felt everyone’s eyes on the pair of you as the feast went on.

“Congratulations, good sister,” Larys nodded his head towards you; he was to the left of the table, sitting beside Harwin as he lifted his goblet of drink in toast to you. “A pity that we will be unable to see our own union through-”

“Larys,” Lyonel warned.

“But I am happy to see my older brother so….blessed with a beautiful bride such as yourself,” Larys finished, a knowing glint in his eyes as he smiled crookedly and took a sip of his wine.

“Th-Thank you, Larys,” you gulped, reaching under the table to squeeze your husband’s hand; Harwin himself did not look pleased with his brother’s words but brushed them off as he continued his conversation with your father. It was surprisingly jovial and at ease, your father laughing at the story Harwin was telling of his boyhood in the Riverlands. You knew–before at least–that your father had held no love for your lover, suspecting if not knowing what was going on behind the closed doors of your chamber all those years. Yet now that things had been set to rights there was no longer a need for such grudges to exist–your family and Harwin’s were as one with each other as the two of you were.

The night slipped on around you all without a warning, all the while you basked in the peaceful camaraderie of those around you; you found yourself becoming drunk, not only off the wine but also the pure joy you had become encumbered with. Soon you found yourself hanging off the arm of your husband, face tucked into his shoulder as you laughed, feeling the press of his kiss against your hairline.

“Shall we retire for the night, my love?” He asked low enough so only you could hear. “I would see that the rest of our ceremonies be fulfilled.”

His voice held the tone of promise, laced with heat it still sent shivers up your arms and back as you allowed your eyes to close. Licking your lips, you nodded, pressing your face into the scratchy fabric of his tunic. Chuckling lowly, he gently extracted himself from your grasp and stood up with his cup in hand. Clearing his throat to draw the attention of your companions, he began the night’s last toast with a raise of his cup:

“As the night draws long, I would like to end this feast by expressing my gratitude to all of you for being here to witness the union of me and my beautiful wife,” he glanced at you as you stared breathlessly up at him, cheeks flushed and a dreamy look in your eye; looking back at your guests, he continued, “I believe I can speak for the both of us when I say that you all have our thanks. With that being said, I would have us raise our cups one last time to good blessings and for a long, healthy marriage.”

“Here!” Yours and Lyonel’s father exclaimed drunkenly, lifting their glasses along with the rest of the men in a chorus–save Larys, who looked bored as he gave a simple gesture of his cup before sipping from it.

With the conclusion of Harwin’s toast many of the guests decided to excuse themselves for the night and retire to their chambers or perhaps other pursuits. As the wedded couple of such a small gathering of people, Harwin and you were both expected to stay until the last guest had their fill, although the pair of you were eager to find privacy in the comfort of your now shared living space. Thankfully, all but Harwin’s brother seemed to understand the urgency and took their leave not long after Harwin’s speech; Larys, however, lingered like a bed feeling, partaking slowly in more food and wine as he carried on a conversation with Harwin and his father–both not-so-subtly attempting to persuading him that it was time to take his leave.

“Brother,” Harwin spoke once more, a warning now in his voice; he like you knew what game Larys was playing–it was out of spite for the perceived wrong of Harwin marrying you when you were all but in heart his brother’s to have. You knew Larys cared nothing for you, having not shared but a few conversations over the years, but you knew he did desire more than what was expected to come to a second son. If he could not have the lordship that would pass to Harwin due to birth order, then he would have the woman his brother had lusted after all these years–or so he had thought.

“Larys,” their father pressed next, exhaustion clear in his voice–he had not the patience to contend with a petulant child in a grown man’s body.

“If you wish to retire brother then by all means do not let me stop you,” Larys spoke, staring into his cup as he swirled its contents around the inside. “I find myself rather content at this time and have no intention of leaving any time soon.”

“Very well then,” Harwin muttered with a sigh, standing up not a moment later and holding his hand out to you. Feeling uncomfortable with the tensions between brothers, you took your husband’s hand without a word and let him lead you from the room. The last words spoken were a good night from Harwin directed only at his exasperated father as the door closed behind you.

Nervously, you held on to the arm of your husband as he led you to his–both of yours–chambers; along with the setting up of the ceremony Harwin had moved into a room not far from his father’s apartments, seeing as his previous room as Lord Commander was hardly fitting for a newlywed couple. Begrudgingly you had some gratitude towards Rhaenyra, who along with relinquishing Harwin from his post without any more theatrics than was necessary she had also arranged for the quick setting up of your new accommodations; though jealousy still simmered beneath your surface, you knew that Rhaenyra was extending this branch as a show of good faith–she would no longer bed Harwin now that he was married to you.

Upon quietly entering the room, you allowed yourself to let go of Harwin and step forward, assessing what amenities it possessed. Smaller than the Hand’s chambers, the room entered into the customary solar area complete with ample sitting and a grand fireplace, a decent sized table to take meals, and a view of the gardens below. The solar cut off into two different rooms on each side–you assumed one led to yours and Harwin’s chambers and the other a modest nursery. At the thought of the nursery you felt a familiar ache in your womb, a want for something that had been rightfully yours for many years; and now there was nothing that stood in your way–

Aside from yours and Harwin’s clothes that is.

You turn to him after several moments, blush now upon your cheek as you twist your hands nervously in front of you. Of course, this was far from being your first time with Harwin, but the added expectation that this time could possibly lead to what you had always wanted–to a child–made this time so much different.

“Something troubling you, wife?” Harwin asked, a knowing smirk on his lips as he slowly approached you.

“No–” You stopped yourself as you returned his smirk with a teasing smile of your own. “Well, perhaps one thing….”

“And that is?” Harwin raised an eyebrow, hands coming up to circle your upper arms gently as he pulled you closer.

“We are both wearing too many clothes,” your own hands came up to play with the ties of his tunic as you let out a heavy sigh, eyes flicking up to meet his.

Harwin’s chest shook as a deep chuckle escaped him, fingers sliding the sleeves of your dress to the back where your corset strings were, “we can’t have that, now can we?”

Together you worked on all the complex twists and buckles of your clothing, peeling each layer off as laughter became stifled under breathless kisses; each item collected in a pile at your feet as you met Harwin with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Soon enough you stood before him, beautifully bare and already aching between your legs. Similarly, he only towered above you in nothing but a pair of unlaced trousers, the wide expanse of his chest covered in a thick layer of hair a darker shade than that on his head. As always the sight of him so open to you made your fingers itch to explore every inch of his body, but you never got the chance as the strong bands of his arms wrapped around you.

His hands smoothed down the skin of your back and to the globes of your ass, which he cupped with his calloused fingers. Pressing your bodies together, Harwin leaned down and you once more met in a heated kiss as he pawed your flesh. You felt the slight sting of his nails as he dug them in, nipping and pulling at your lip with his teeth as your hips began to move together. The outline of his hardening cock could be felt pressing into your thigh, causing you to moan into his mouth at the promise of what was to come.

“Do you feel that?” Harwin panted, freeing one of his hands to smooth back the curtain of your hair as he grinded into you; his knee pushed its way between your legs, forcing them to widen to accommodate his side as he angled his hips to deepen his thrusts. He continued to keep a hold on your face, sliding down to cup your cheek and jaw as he stared right into your eyes.

“Harwin-” You licked your swollen lips, unable to look away from him as he gave just as much as he took.

“Hush now,” Harwin spoke against your lips, biting at the bottom one as he went back to kissing you–deeper and more demanding this time.

As you continued to kiss he found the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you through the solar and to your private bedchambers. Soon, you found yourself pressed into the freshly changed bed sheets–all soft and fresh smelling, warm against your skin as you opened yourself up to Harwin’s ministrations. His hands pushed your thighs up to be level to your hips, keeping them there and widened so that he could settle easily between them as he knelt. Kisses followed a path from your mouth to your inner thighs, the scruff of his beard coarse against your skin.

Red faced, you held your head at an uncomfortable angle so as to see what Harwin was doing, the muscles of your neck straining and tensing. Seeing the furrow of your brow, your husband hesitated at the juncture where your leg met your cunt before pulling away with a disappointed whimper from you–you could just feel his breath against your wet heat. Smirking, he reached past you, placing his pecs in perfect view of your eyes and mouth; unable to resist temptation you leaned up and nipped at one of the hardened peeks of his chest causing him to jerk. You could barely get another lick in before he was pulling away, pillow in hand.

Your momentary heightened courage faded as he stared at you with hungry eyes, reaching down to press a soft kiss on your lips as he tucked the pillow underneath your head. The strain on your neck disappeared as he found his home once more between the valley of your thighs.

“You never fail to surprise me, wife,” he grunted, littering the inner skin with love bites as he spoke reverently. “I cannot wait to see what all you have been holding back from me all these years….”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” you muttered as you leaned your head with a groan as Harwin pushed between your folds, his nose rubbing against the heart of your pleasure as he thrusted his tongue inside of you. This did not last long as he pulled away with a chuckle, thumb reaching up to replace the pressure on your clit.

“Is that so?” He spoke hotly, breath caressing over your slickness. “So you do not have any hidden desires you have been keeping from me? A pity….I was rather looking forward to see you so debauched before me–”

“Harwin!” You exclaimed as he slid his thumb into your heat, thrusting it in and out at a steady pace as his mouth delved back between your folds.

“Nevertheless,” he sighed, pulled back slightly as he pressed a kiss to your pussy, “I will use this opportunity as my penitence.”

“What-” you began with a sigh of confusion, cutting off in a gasp as your hips lifted off the bed into Harwin’s waiting mouth; he licked at you with renewed fervor, pushing his face between your lips as he latched onto your clit. The pleasure did not come slowly, it crashed over you in barely contained waves that held no rhyme or reason to them, simply encompassing you until you were in danger of drowning in it; if it were not for the firm hold Harwin had on your bucking hips, you just might have done so.

“Oh, gods, oh-Harwin!” You moaned, pushing yourself up to lean on your forearms as you watched him consume you.

You came as swiftly as it started, hips struggling to roll into Harwin’s tongue as his fingers pushed you through your orgasm; even after you had finished he continued to taunt your sensitive flesh until you were begging him in incoherent whispers to lend you just a moment. When he pulled away his lips were coated with something that was purely you, something he hungrily licked clean as he leaned down to claim your lips once more. You could taste yourself on his tongue and teeth, answering his hungry stroking with some of your own as he gently gripped your jaw.

“You are always a vision beneath me,” Harwin whispered, eyes enamored to the sight of you naked and yielding as you once more relaxed into the bed, “but I would have you astride me tonight if you would?”

“How can I deny you anything after such an….impressive performance, my husband?” You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over the roughness of his beard.

Without further prodding, Harwin discarded his trousers clumsily as you pushed yourself up, wasting no time in straddling him once he was completely unclothed. You pushed him into the bed, hands planted on the hard plains of his stomach as you rubbed your cunt against his aching length. The breath left Harwin as he immediately grabbed onto your hips, trying his best to still your movements as he composed himself.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chuckled, a hint of nervous anticipation in his voice as he let out a shaky breath.

“And you are not?” You raised an eyebrow, hands smoothing over his torso. “I would have you deep inside me right now for the third time if you weren’t so determined on preparing me….”

“Three times?” Harwin snorted playfully, kneading the flesh of your hips. “My, you are ambitious tonight, my love.”

“The more you have me, the better chance of me becoming with child,” you explain practically, just the mere thought sending a surge of lust through your body.

The image of him thrusting into you throughout the night, barely a pause in between orgasms, as he filled you until it was spilling out; even then, he would not stop, fucking you messy so that his seed would have a better chance of taking. The prospect seemed to excite your lover as well; eyes darkening, Harwin reached down to grip his stiff cock, thumb rubbing over the vein that ran the length of it. With his other hand, he lifted you into position, poising you over the reddened tip before helping you slowly slide down.

“That’s what you want then? A child?” He groaned, fisting the base of his penis as you adjusted to the girth. “It’s what you’ve always wanted….”

Sighing from the fullness, you balanced yourself on your hands as you pressed back and down on the impressive size of him; even after all these years it was a stretch and adjustment each time you took him–and that’s the way you liked it. You nodded tearfully, becoming overwhelmed from not only the pleasure but the emotion his words invoked you.

“Yes, I want a babe, Harwin,” you moaned, tilting your head back as you began to rock your hips. “I want-”

You gasped as you were flipped over, Harwin slamming his cock the rest of the way as he pressed you into the bed. His hands pushed your thighs up to your chest, holding them there with nothing but the driving force of his hips; once you were settled in your new position his hands pressed into the bed on either side of your head, tempo increasing as he fucked into you. His hips rolled at a consistent tempo, fast and hard they slapped against the skin of your ass as you cried out in pleasure.

“Now that you are my wife, you can have it all,” Harwin grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he threw his head back in pleasure. “I will give you as many children as you want–a dozen, fifty-fuck the gods! A hundred! I will fuck a hundred babies into you–sons and daughters. Whatever you want, it is yours my love just–”

“Harwin!” You keened, the friction of his thrusts rubbing against your sensitive bud.

“All you have to do is ask it of me!” He continued, hips stuttering as he tried to stop himself from ending this so soon. “Ask and it is yours! All of it!”

“Yes,” you choked out, finding that second precipice and grappling for it. “I want it all–everything! Give me everything, Harwin, fuck it into me until I am filled with you–”

You fell over mere moments before he did, milking his cock as he pushed your legs up almost to your ears and held himself there. The warmth of his seed coated you, filling your insides up until it was leaking from around Harwin’s softening shaft. His hips moved ever so slightly, ensuring that not a single drop was wasted as he mumbled sweetly to you.

“There we are,” he sighed contently, pumping his hips as he looked between the pair of you where you were joined, inspecting his work proudly. He let your legs fall slowly to rest on either side of him, caressing the shaking muscles of your thighs as you came down from the intense coupling. Only once your aftershocks had subsided did Harwin pull himself from you, reaching down to grip his flaccid cock–coated in arousal and cum. “Beautiful….”

You flushed as you realized he was still staring between your legs, watching as his spend gradually began to slide from inside of you. For a moment, you wanted to close your legs out of bashfulness, but resisted the urge as you watched Harwin push what he could back inside. He does so ever so carefully, eyes never straying from your lower lips as he fucked his release once more into you, caressing the still contracting walls of your cunt.

“There,” he proclaimed, a satisfied warmth in his glazed eyes, “much better.”

Biting your lip, you held your arms open to him, needing the length of his body once more pressed against yours. You were both satiated–for the moment–as Harwin did just that, lowering himself on the bed so that his face pressed against the softness of your stomach. For a moment, you believed that like yourself he was imagining what it would be like swollen with a child. Soon enough, with the grace of the Seven, you would not have to simply imagine for much longer–

You could see it now–a boy with Harwin’s curls and your eyes, tall and strong like his father yet gentle and soft spoken like you. Or maybe they would be a girl? Either way, they were alway the perfect combination of you and your husband. Your child was a daydream that did not fail to bring a smile to your lips as you curled against Harwin, but they would not be a daydream forever–

The weightlessness of your heart was for once certain.

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 :#house of the dragon #hotd #harwin strong #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong one shot

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

Prompt || Steven spilled some aphrodisiac into Y/N’s drink. It's up to Steven to deal with horny Y/N or to take advantage of them. — Requested by anon

Pairing || Steven Grant x Female!Reader // hint of Marc Spector x Female!Reader

Steven || Marc

Word Count || Less than 500

Contents & Warnings || fluff, angst, implied smut — 18+ Only, Minor DNI, non-con, mention of drugging.

Random prompt event || Masterlist

“Uh, Marc, I don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t want to drug this poor girl; I really like her, and this is our first date. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Steven looked over his shoulder at where you were sitting on his couch, waiting for him to finish making drinks. You gave him a warm smile and waved. He felt his heart melt. He had fallen so in love with you already, and he felt horrible for what he was about to do.

He nervously chuckled and waved back before returning to the drinks.

“Come on, Steven, live a little. It’s just an energy boost, nothing more. We don’t want this night to end yet,” Marc lied to him.

“O-ok, I trust you, Marc.”

Naively, Steven opened up the small bottle and poured a few drops into your drink. He watched the liquid mix with the drink; no trace of anything added was longer evident.

“Perfect, Steven.”

Steven swallowed the lump in his throat and turned towards you with the drinks in hand. He smiled crookedly as he set the glasses down on the coffee table and found his seat next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your bodies.

“Thank you for a wonderful date, Steven. I’m so glad you asked me out.”

“N-no problem, a-and thank you for agreeing to go back to my place.”

You lifted your drink, as did he.

“Cheers for the rest of the night.”

“C-cheers.”

———

It took a couple of short minutes for the “energy boost” to kick in.

You started to feel slightly lightheaded and also overcome with lust, lust for the man sitting beside you. Closing the gap between you two, you leaned in and whispered in his ear how horny he made you.

“Steven, I want you,” you grabbed his thigh hard, “I need you so bad. I need you to fuck me.”

“W-wha…?”

“Yes, it’s working!”

“Please, Steven,” your lips graced his ear, “take me to your bed and fuck me as hard as you can.”

“I-I…”

Steven was so taken aback by what was happening. On the one hand, he really wanted to take you upon the request, but on the other, he tried to keep you at a distance. It was wrong to get laid this way, and possibly criminal as well.

“I don’t think you are thinking straight right now. M-maybe we can do it another time.”

“No, I want it no….”

Steven must have put too many drops in your drink because one minute, you’re begging for sex, and the next, you fainted in his lap.

“Oh, fuck. Maybe we put too much love potion in the drink?”

“Love potion? Marc, what the fuck?”

“No worries, she’ll wake up tomorrow, hopefully.”

“Fuck.”

It was up to Steven now to deal with this sleeping girl and take care of her until the morning.

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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cixteenyne · 10 months

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'Maybe so..'

A standalone of Kaeya, and fanmade ideals of his mind, please enjoy. Song used while writing: Sunkissed Lola - Pasilyo

Ao3 link to the cross-post.

Sometimes a word was all it took, a word - syllable of any sort of comfort. Something that resonated with you would stick to you longer than you know. Many things have been said, not much ever done. But when all has indeed been said and done. Begrudgingly. There's never much more to it than to accept that you can't change a thing but yourself, and even that in of itself is no small feat. not for someone like me or him, maybe you. Yet he doesn’t know you, i don't know you, so who am i to say that.

Sometimes we need someone to say the unnecessary, so we ourselves don't even have to stretch the energy to even think about it. Let alone saying it out loud. You have no one to judge you but your own thoughts once every thing is said and done. Again, begrudgingly. But is it really begrudging when you purse your lips to say the unthinkable? Was it really reluctance when you mustered up the courage to mumble it within the confines of your mind, instead of leaving it in the abyss of “maybe not, maybe so.”

Not knowing yourself and whether or not you can trust your own mind, and the beings that are capable of peering into it from a simple twitch of the eye, or the sag of a shoulder. A leg slightly too crossed, tense, and suddenly they see right through you. How can I trust that?

Thinking over and over how you're walking too crookedly, or how your fingers are just too crumpled together. Crumbled like the dreams and hopes you tried too hard to hang on to once you finally stepped over that fine line. A line to fine is doomed from the start, it's begging to be crossed, you cross it no matter what you do, you need not do a thing but wait.

Isn't that so annoying? knowing that no matter what, that test you have to take is inevitable, that event is going to happen anyway, that person is going to come into your life either way. They’re going to have to leave all the same. Isn’t that so annoying. Like the ticking of a clock that’s set for infinity. Using the beautiful colors of the world to speak to you, foregoing numbers. yet the glasses you're wearing haven't been the most accommodating, so it's all just hues of gray and splotches of anger, it's unsightly, right? annoying.

Holding on to something is difficult, but you can train yourself to grip as hard as you can and pull back. But no matter how hard you train, no matter how many weights you lift, drop, swing, push, pull. Nothing, and I mean nothing can ever prepare you for the strength you need to have to accept having to let go. You can grip with all your might, yet it always manages to slip through the gaps of your fingers, bruised and battered, trembling, unable to do anything but watch them slip by, and into someone else's iron hold. Maybe yours is plastic compared to theirs.

You know you tried your best. Or what you thought was all your might and vigor, But all that you see is a tunnelvision of that thing just drifting away, your skin going as cold as the devastating waters of the merry ship ‘She’, Titanic. You felt like you could drift to the bottom and not put up a fight before anyone had the chance to save you. You say all this, you think it, yet despite it all. When all is said and done, so much has been done, and not enough words. Begrudgingly.

Despite it all, the sun still rises the next day, and you still sit there with the memories you thought you'd continue to make, yet you're here remembering them longer than they cared to stay. And that's ok.

When disaster hits, and all the beauty in life seems to wash away just as quickly as it came, you stop yourself and think, that beauty still came despite it all. Even when it washed away, even for a second it was still there, so tall and beautiful in all its bright colors, how slightly, a splotch of happy hues that used to be so gray and muddied and bleeding into your vision. And maybe it's gonna be okay, that's the moment it will click. It ain't so bad, huh?

‘Maybe so.’, he thinks. And he watches the sun rise just as it had the day before. it even did on that day where it all slipped away, if it had then- it will again, he is living proof of it.

“Another drink for me, Diluc? Oh, Don't frown at me like that- really, rolling your eyes? I see.”

Kaeya smiles.

#genshin impact #genshin angst #angst #genshin impact angst #kaeya alberich #keaya alberich #kaeya #keaya #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #kaeya angst #x reader #keaya x reader #kaeya x reader #hurt/comfort #hopecore

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zaceouiswriting · 1 year

Text

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.3

Characters: Sky x male reader, Brandon x male reader, Riven x male reader

Universe: Winx Club/Wix Saga

Warnings: None

My head is racing as I silently follow the Herald to my grandfather's office. I could not wrap my head around things. They didn't even call me home for my sixteenth birthday a month ago. But now? Now they suddenly want me back in the palace? Something felt strange, but not being able to pinpoint it is driving me insane.

The guards around me gave me strange looks as I nervously fidgeted with my fingers and my head slightly tilted down. Quickly I realized that my reputation was not following but running ahead of me. They must have been shocked at my anxious state. To be honest with myself, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Luckily, I don't care what anyone thinks of me. I didn't even look at them.

Soon we were standing before my grandfather's closed dark stone office doors. Two Geodocers - elite guardians with an affinity for stone magic - exclusively protect the king and stand on the sides of this door. "Explain why you are coming before His Majesty King Rodwick III's private office!" both guards commanded simultaneously in deep, stony voices.

Already aware of their deal, I finally straightened my back and looked directly at the two men, who were not looking back.

"I, (Y/N) Gyonos, Crown Prince of Gyonos, have been officially requested by His Majesty King Rodwick III."

Nothing happened for a while. Slowly, both men turned inward toward the door, pushing against the stone door with one hand while their other gripped their spears tightly. Yellow, brownish magic flowed across the door to the core, which broke open the stone. But only so much that I could step through. Nobody else is allowed to follow.

The second I walked through, the doors closed again, and the stone reconnected. "Oh, your grandfather is already waiting for you!" called a woman's voice which I know all too well.

"So the old man locked you in here?" I asked her jokingly, even relaxing my statue.

"You know how he is, but at least he let me keep plants here!" Her happiness and being able to see the best in everything always made me stare at her in admiration. But at the end of the day, she's still a prisoner.

"Can I open the wooden doors this time without being attacked?" I looked at her suspiciously as she just grinned crookedly at me. "Oh, in the name of Thortaglia, please give me strength," I murmured softly, but as always, she heard me, which I recognized from her ominous chuckle.

Slowly and reluctantly, I walked forward and knocked on the black wooden door made of the ash oak that only grows on the black rocks because of the lava inside the dormant volcano. Highly resistant to fire and anything related to heat.

I had to wait a long moment, or was it short? Honest? I don't know. The only thing I was that I stood there a moment longer than I would have liked. Until finally, the old man permitted me to enter.

With my guard on high alert, I did as I was told, almost casually opening the heavy wooden doors. Even though the door was wide open, nothing happened. Instead, I saw my grandfather with his usual mischievous smile. Across the room, my parents were seated, the same people who never fought for me, only following what my grandfather said.

"What are they doing here?" I asked in a disgusted tone. It made my disappointment in them very clear.

"Everything at the right time, you already know that. Come closer and sit down. It's important.”

"More important than a war I fought almost alone?"

"Yes, indeed, more important than anything else!"

Slightly shocked by my grandfather's determination, I entered the room and closed the door. Still, my senses still heightened; I turned around as soon as the door clicked back into place. Before I could take another step, I felt it. Without looking up, I smashed the rock that was falling on me. Staring at my grandfather the whole time, annoyed to no end.

I wanted to ask him how many traps he'd built, but I knew he'd never tell - like always. So I walked closer to the desk, smashing rocks, dodging arrows, and whatever the old man threw at me.

Even from a distance, I could see the chair was tampered with. So I just put it away and made my own out of stone. I crossed my left leg over my right and leaned back, my forearms on the sides of the chair, looking at my grandfather smugly. It's a little game we play because I'm the only one in the family like him.

"So, old man, why did you call me here? Wasn't confinement to the battlefield enough?”

My grandfather looked me up and down, amazed that I hadn't lost my attitude and sense of superiority. "Somebody had to fight. I am old and tired-”

"Cut it, grandpa. We both know if you had wanted to, you could have split the world and burrowed these people into the ground.” His sweetly smiling expression fell instantly. Suddenly his seemingly broken exterior increased. He leaned over his desk, hands clasped, anger radiating from him. But I didn't give in. Instead, I followed his example and strengthened my position.

We just stared at each other for a while until the old man decided to lean back slightly again, this time sitting up straight with only his hands clasped on his desk.

"You will marry the third son of King Herald of Melakles," he stated matter-of-factly. It actually took me some time to understand what was being said. But as it slowly dawned on me, I began to laugh with all my heart. I almost fell off my chair laughing. After all, my family always told us that we should only marry for love. They would never force anything on us - except the crown.

I soon realized something. Nobody else laughed. I slowly opened my eyes and looked straight into my stoic grandfather's eyes. "You're joking, aren't you?" In a panic, I jumped onto the edge of the seat and tried to grab his hands. But he immediately withdrew.

"You already know Eric isn't that so? After all, he speaks of you with respect.” My panic turned to confusion. Yes, I know him, but I'd only met him once. "And we need their support after our other allies left us to die." A sly smirk graced my grandfather's lips out of a sudden. And it quickly clicked in my head.

"Are you serious?" I roared loudly, making the windows behind my grandfather and even the heavy stone doors shake with the immense power leaving my body. My anger grew as I felt two horns dig out of my head. "You want me to accept a political marriage? After the three of you talk about love as much as it can make a good marriage and make an empire flourish?”

With a single movement of my hands, his desk flew across the room, but my grandfather didn't flinch away; he just lifted his hands off it. "Yes. Everyone has to make sacrifices!"

"So all my siblings will also get married?" Suddenly it became eerily quiet. On my grandfather's stoic, cold icy facial expression, I thought to see something close to regret. "It's good to know that I'm the only one in this family who has to make sacrifices. Not only did you guys steal my teenage years by throwing me into a war, I have nothing to do with not allowing me to go to school or interact with others. Not even my own siblings. But now you want to control my future too?”

"Young man, you cannot talk to me, your king and grandfather, like that!"

The love I once felt for this old man, who was always very gentle with me and helped me control the immense powers that lives within me, suddenly began to disappear. "Is that all?" I asked through clenched teeth, just about able to pull the horns back inside me.

"No." The hate that began to harbor inside me grew a little bit more. "You will study at the Alfea Academy of Fairies."

“What?“

“Of course, you are a fairy. You will study there, just like me when I was your age. The new semester starts in two days.”

"Well, on my birthday, you couldn't get me out of the war, but if you want to send me away again. I finally understand where my place is in this family.” I turned after spitting those words in my grandfather's face: as venomously as possible. My eyes fell on my parents for the first time since I entered. "I hope you two are happy. We'll see what your future will bring when this old man withered away, and I take the crown!"

Nothing further was said after this threat. I simply left his office, ignoring his assistant and opening the heavy stone doors myself, shocking the guards in front of them.

I kept wondering how they could do this to me. Am I this unimportant and replaceable to them? Deep in thought, I didn't realize I'd reached my room. At least, I thought so. I almost left it again as I could see someone else standing inside, nervously fidgeting with their fingers.

“Who are you?“

The poor fellow jumped in terror and cowered against the wall as soon as he heard my voice. "Your royal highness, I-I-I-"

"Get down to the point!" I growled at him, annoyed at just his presence and at the thought of what my grandfather could have done.

But my harsh words had the opposite effect. Instead of sharing his affairs with me, he closed his eyes and folded his arms protectively in front of him while at the same time crouching on the floor.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and I walked over to him, shaking my head. He must have heard my heavy, angry footsteps because he soon curled up into a ball.

Ignoring his obviously fearful behavior, I grabbed his waist and pulled him off the floor. Oddly enough, he weighs next to nothing. I sat him down on a couch on the left side of my room and put a blanket over him. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Without waiting for another word of his, I opened the door and left my room. Mentally exhausted, I walked down to the kitchen, through a secret passage and later staff stairs.

"Your Highness, what can we-"

"That's not necessary. I'm just going to make tea and steal some snacks for a young man in my room whom I suspect has just had a nervous breakdown."

I could hear the giggles of many kitchen workers and a lower butler standing to one side. "So I assume you know who this guy is?"

Everyone in the kitchen, about thirty people, made appreciative noises almost simultaneously. To be honest? It didn't surprise me. After all, the employees know everything at all times.

"He's your new personal assistant," the butler told me stoically.

I giggled darkly at his words, "Over my dead body." Suddenly, the happy atmosphere in the room was gone, everyone staring uneasily in my direction as I prepared for my short-term guest.

Feeling questioning looks on my back, I had to explain myself: “I won't take another assistant after what happened to my last one. The boy I've known all my life, I grew up with, who got killed right before my eyes! His blood spilled all over me, and to this day, I can't get the taste of his blood out of my mouth. I held him as he bled to death, unable to do anything for him. I could only pray that he would be in a different, better place and give him a final kiss on his forehead.”

I cried for his loss for so long that, at that point, not a single new tear could be shed. I miss him every day. His death was the reason I killed the only enemy I ever respected. It was his sword that spilled my best friend's blood.

To say they were in shock would be a gross understatement. Neither of them had any idea. They only know that I was on the front lines of this war - which is still going on.

There was complete silence in the room for minutes until I turned around with the tray in my hands, everything neatly arranged. "I didn't want to spoil the mood. Unfortunately, I'm not the lively person I used to be. You have the cruel old man to thank for that.” For the first time since the death of my best friend, I have shown my grief to someone.

Oddly enough, the atmosphere changed, and the intense tension eased as sympathy swept over all those who had always treated me - and the rest of my family well.

Head slightly bowed, I fixed my gaze on the floor as I shuffled out of the kitchen as fast as I could before either of them could see tears that dared to go against my will and break free of my eyes.

I took the same way back I had used to get to the kitchen, getting out of everyone's way.

Without thinking much, I opened my bedroom door with my forearm and closed it with my foot after entering. Soft snoring made its way to me, right into my ears. Shocked, I walked around to the couch. There the poor guy was, sound asleep peacefully. I must have really exhausted him through sheer fear.

Careful not to make too much noise, I set the tray down. I gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders so that only his head was sticking out. I also brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. "He looks even more like… him... from this perspective," I murmured under my breath. I wonder if grandfather is behind this and did it on purpose.

A sudden rush of new anger seared my eyes and turned them into what I tried to hide inside me so hard. It was difficult to push it back, but he somehow managed.

Straightening my back out again, I let out a sigh of relief. I breathed in sharply through my nose and let it out gently through my mouth. Slowly I could feel my senses slowly returning to me.

When I finally found myself still standing in front of the couch with the sleeping guy, I turned to my desk and quietly rummaged through it until I had a piece of paper and a pen in my hands. I wrote a note for the guy, left it on the tray, and finally left the room with one goal: finding a couple of guards willing to train with me to vent some frustration.

[Masterlist]

#winx club #winx club imagine #winx saga x male reader #Winx Saga #winx saga imagine #sky #sky x male reader #brandon #brandon x male reader #brandon imagine #sky imagine #riven #riven x male reader #riven imagine #male reader #x male reader #male reader imagine #x male reader imagine

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miraculous-rewrite · 4 months

Text

Miraculous World Rewrite - New York

Across the atlantic there's trouble brewing

We cold open to the sound of keys against a keyboard, ominous clacking against the otherwise silent room. We first see only shadows, fingers darting across a keyboard illuminated by the screen light alone. The glare from the screen reflects against a pair of glasses, but other than that the figure is cloaked in darkness. They clack the keyboard a few more times before speaking.

A young woman’s voice comes out of a crookedly grinning mouth. “Got it.”

A table lamp lights up, illuminating the room--and Alya--in warm yellow tones, she’s sitting in bed with her laptop perched on her knees. And the person with his hand on the lamp is none other than Nino. They both look a decent amount older, having transitioned from teenagers to young adults. Nino squints at her blearily in the light. “Babe, go to bed.”

“I’ll sleep when I'm dead.”

“That’s the PTSD talking. Go. To. Bed.”

“Nino, I think I’ve got something here!”

“So?”

“So… You ever wanted to go to the United States?”

“Not particularly-”

“There’s an amateur music competition coming up~” she sing-songs and Nino cracks his eyes open and glares at her.

“You play dirty.”

“I’m a fox, it’s what we do.”

Nino huffs and curls up a bit until his head is in Alya’s lap “So what’s in New York, other than a shit ton of superheroes?”

Roll Opening Credits

When we open back up we open up to the new base, (the one we described back in Tokyo) and Specifically we focus on a map of the world. There are colored pins in the areas we’ve spelled out was Miraculous holding, and Alya sticks a very noticeable black pin in New York.

Nino’s leaned over a laptop that's perched nearby, scrolling through the pictures with a look of concentration.

“I thought we said we were gonna leave New York alone since they already have a million superheroes?” another voice pipes up, and panning around just a bit to see Rose knitting something on the couch. She glances up at them and tilts her head to the side. “I mean the others are already getting ready for their trips and such-”

“Why do you think they left Luka in charge and not one of us?” Alya counters. “My girl Mari knew something was gonna come up that required our attention.”

“It’s true.” Marinette pops in through the elevator, zipping in and rummaging through a storage closet while she talked. “You know how impossible it is to keep Alya from a case. She already briefed me and Adrien over email and they’ve got our blessin- where is it…” She grumbles a moment longer before pulling out a specific coat from the closet. “Got it! How did it even end up down here? Oh also, how are you guys getting to the states?”

“Amber’s hooking us up, apparently she and Chloe have a cousin about Lycee-ish age who’s willing to let us be houseguests while I ‘Look at NYU’ and Nino ‘competes’”

“Good. I was worried you guys would have to navigate the city on your own.”

“Have a little faith Mari-” Nino huffs “We’re not exactly in college anymore. We know better.”

“I didn’t know Chloe and Amber had a cousin!” Rose pipes up again and this time is joined by Juleka pressing a mug of something steaming to her cheek.

“Yeah I always assumed either of their parents were too unpleasant to have had siblings.”

“Yeah uhhh her name’s Zoe I think.” Alya checks her phone again. “Yeah, Zoe. And… wow she’s like fourteen. She’s a baby.”

“Babe you were a Miraculous wielder when you were fourteen.”

“Yeah but… she’s a BABY”

We smash-cut to our first spot of New York. Specifically a teenage girl with blonde hair partially hidden by a green beanie, she’s talking on the phone. “Mom, I’m fifteen years old, I’m not exactly a baby anymore. I can pick up my cousin’s friends on my own! No, I won't get lost! Yes I will have you on speed dial if anything goes wrong. No, I won't get lost! Love you too. Bye.”

There’s a moment of snickering at her side, and she elbows the source, who only laughs more, adjusting her purse a little from the jostling. “You have to admit it’s nice how much she worries about you, even if we’re doing this as a class.”

Sure enough, there’s a hoard of kids around the same age as the two girls playfully elbowing each other, all talking amongst each other while a couple of teachers are trying to bring back some semblance of order to the group.

“So-” the other girl starts up, leaning in a little closer to Zoe “When are you picking these two up?”

“Basically once we’re home from this stupid field trip.” Zoe rolls her eyes and the other girl laughs. “Don’t give me that Alyssa, you’re just excited because you haven’t been in this state long enough to get tired of this damn museum.”

“Uh huh, sure, totally.” The girl, clearly named Alyssa, mumbles with a wave of her hand, clearly enraptured with the architecture of all things, and Zoe lets out a sigh.

“I lost you already, huh? Come on, before we get left behind.”

With that, Zoe grabs the strap of Alyssa’s purse, and starts tugging the other girl along with her, even as she yelps in surprise and starts trying to get the blonde to let her go. All of those attempts stop when the two reach the exhibit the class was heading for, and her eyes settle on a fancy ring in the glass display box.

One of their other classmates, a girl with dark textured hair pulled back into a ponytail with a bandanna around the top reads the placard out loud, it was supposedly a gift from the Oneida peoples to Marquis de Lafayette during the infancies of the Revolution, some sort of show of good faith between them, and Lafayette used that sort of leadership skill to apparently ‘rouse the people from their fears’ while recruiting for the American forces.

The girl by her side, dark hair in a long braid behind her, snorts and huffs a ‘yeah right’ as the class starts to answer questions. “Which is why it’s here in THIS history museum, and not maybe in one specific to franco native relations, or maybe in Lafayette’s home estates. They made that up to compensate for whoever they stole this from.”

“You really think a Museum would do that?” the bandanna girl responds, but with a playful tone to her voice. “Just steal artifacts from native peoples and tell lies?”

They both chuckle and as the class starts to move on this Alyssa girl stays behind for a moment. She takes out her phone and snaps a few pictures of the ring, before pocketing her Cellphone, pausing, and looking back at her purse. She looks around and sure enough she’s alone so she whispers to the purse.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you say they’re hard to tell when they’re hidden?” there’s a pause and Alyssa huffs “Okay… yeah I trust you.”

“Alyssa!” Zoe calls out and Alyssa’s head pops up, she holds a hand to her lips to shush the assumed Kwami inside her bag and runs into the next room. She nearly collides with a stout boy about her size, they both stumble and she apologizes, he responds in kind and introduces himself as Ryan. She insists she knows. Their teachers said to expect him. “You just moved here too, right?”

“Yeah… I was raised in Alaska.”

“Oh! Inupiat?”

“Yeah! You could tell?”

“It’s the vibe. And I recognized the bracelet as a traditional pattern; I like studying about other tribes sometimes, it seems right that we all understand each other, yeah?”

“Oh, what tribe are you?”

“Hopi actually.”

“You’re a long way from home too, huh?”

“Tell me about it.”

They both laugh and as they continue on with the tour Ryan gets banged into someone else again, this time hard enough to send him to the ground.

“Oh, excuse me, young one.” An older gentleman, like way too old to have so easily knocked Ryan over, offers him a hand up, and Ryan rubs his arm in pain. “I did not see you there.”

“Oh uh… no problem man.” Ryan reaches down and panics, patting his shorts a couple of times, looking around. “Where-!” he finds a little fuzzy thing on the ground. He yelps and the old man looks down at it.

“Oh, is this yours?” he reaches for it but Ryan dives down and grabs it with a quick “yes!” He holds it close to himself before stuffing it into a pocket. “It’s uh… it was a gift, from before I left home. It’s… precious to me.”

“I see….”

The old man continues on his way, as Ryan gets back to his feet, and Alyssa is seen watching this exchange. She makes a humming noise, but Zoe grabs her attention again and pulls her away. But as she pulls away she goes back to her phone, posting one of the taken pictures to a french site and (with the help of google translate) roughly sending out a ‘I don’t know if it’s anything, but Maybe?’ in the captions.

“Do you want me to come with you to pick up these people? I doubt they speak much English…”

“It’s okay, I speak French. Didn’t you say you’ve got something to do today anyway?”

Alyssa looks away, a bit shifty eyed. “Well yeah but-”

“You’re just like my mother sometimes, Lys…I’ll be fine.”

The older man passes by the other pair of girls, and they in particular trade a look, the girl with the braid nodding toward him with a puzzled look, but the girl with the bandanna waves it off with a laugh. We cut from the group there to an airplane door opening later in the afternoon. Alya’s got a backpack and a laptop carrier in her grip as Nino quickly heads down to Baggage claim. “So who are we looking for again?”

“Blonde kid, green beanie.” Alya responds. “But let’s grab your equipment first.” So after one comedic acquisition scene the two are found with Nino’s equipment and their clothes suitcases at the ready, looking around the bustling crowd until Alya makes am ‘aha!’ noise, grabbing Nino and dragging him forward until they ran into Zoe.

Zoe makes a surprised yelp noise when the two approach, but smiles and gives a slight wave. “Uh… are you guys… Cesaire and Lahiffe?” She asks in stilted french. And the two respond in kind, Alya purposefully talking slower, and Nino stumbling his way through English. They exchange pleasantries. Zoe saying that Amber spoke highly of both of them, and how eager she had been to meet some of the people that finally tamed Cousin Chloe.

“Actually I’m a little jealous of the two of them, finally got Amber out of this hellhole and to a place where people love her.”

“New York can’t be all that bad…?” Alya tries “There’s good stuff right? The lights and the hustle and bustle and all of the stuff you hear about?”

“Yeah if you’re a tourist…” Zoe shrugs. “Live here and it's all crowds and traffic jams and subway rats. Is Paris really a dreamy romantic City of Love? Cuz that’s the stuff you hear about it.”

“Oh so it really IS like that in all other parts of the world…” Nino huffs “I thought we were just unlucky…”

Zoe laughs and soon the others follow.

Zoe leads them into the streets, claiming that she wants them to take the subway to get over to her place, but just as they start to head over there’s a huge crashing sound, a crumble of buildings and a few screams. Nino and Alya both jump, hands darting to their Miraculouses, but Zoe seems unperturbed. “Oh, it’s just Gigavolt again…” she mutters. “Come on, he never makes it past Knightowl and Sparrow.” she gestures for them to follow her, but Alya shoots Nino a grin and Nino groans. Next thing Zoe knows her french charges have deposited the equipment with her and are running in the direction of the fight.

As expected of a New York Superhero set piece it’s all flashy and fancy, as the lightning based villain does battle against the dark brown suited hero and sidekick. We follow them for a while to see Sparrow roll onto the rooftop and Knightowl places a hand on their back before Sparrow sort of shoves them off of them and gets back into the fight. But just as Sparrow is just about to get knocked down again a blast of energy zips up from below and hits Gigavolt in a pack on his back, making the supervillain’s powers seem to short circuit and they fall from the sky. Sparrow reaches the edge and throws a small gadget to the ground with such speed it beats the supervillain down and inflates a cushion for him to land on. Sparrow also dives off the side, though Knigthowl is clearly trying to keep them from doing so.

“Gigavolt, you’re under arrest for felony larceny, as usual. You have the right to remain silent-” as Sparrow starts the whole spiel they glance over to see a purple suited cyborg standing at the edge of the cushion, her open palm trained on Gigavolt.

“I could have handled it, Uncanny Valley.”

“You always say that but Knightowl wouldn’t have to baby you if you weren’t always taking risks!” Uncanny Valley responds, looking a bit put out. She lifts a hand and one of her fingertips comes off to reveal a small blade underneath, she slashes at the cushion and it quickly deflates.

“Knightowl just doesn’t want to admit that I’m better at this than they were at my age!” They huff and force Gigavolt to his knees. “You wanna try to break out of what they have cooked up for you this time GigaDolt?”

“How Original.” Uncanny Valley rolls her eyes (her one purple robot eye glitching with the motion. “You know you’re not making a very good hero look if you keep being so mean to your opponents.”

“They’re Villains Uncanny! What am I supposed to do?”

“We’re heroes Sparrow, can you at least try to-”

“SPARROW!”

“Crap.” “Ohhhh now you’re in for it. I’ll Take Gigavolt from here, you make a run for it.”

“Thanks…”

“What are friends for? Now go!” Sparrow turns heel and runs off, Knightowl in hot pursuit going on about how much trouble Sparrow is in.

Alya is of course filming all of this with a big grin and barely contained laughter. “Ah man, they look like us when we were kids…” she mutters. “Listen to that banter.”

“They’re talking too fast. I didn't catch it.”

“You guuuyyysss!” Zoe calls out, flagging Nino down again and having him drag Alya back “You guys can’t just leave your stuff anywhere! This isn’t a cartoon!” Alya is sheepish at the chiding and Nino is protectively double and triple checking his stuff. Finally all in order they descend into the subway, and Zoe looks back one last time at Uncanney Valley before she’s out of sight. “You guys really don’t have to make that big of a deal about superheroes. They’re pretty common around these parts.”

“Like, yeah sure we’ve got a lot of supervillains to match them, but we’ve got aliens, AI, whatever the hell Knightowl and Sparrow actually ARE god knows those two have been around for literal centuries.” she huffs. “I’ve heard a lot of stuff about you guys’ Team Miraculous, but they’re like… all from the same group of magic aren’t they? There’s a lot of different kinds of heroes around here.”

“Well yeah!” Alya pipes up “I know about Knightowl and Sparrow, who wouldn’t? And Uncanney Valley is new on the scene, but she’s some kind of cyborg or Android, and she was apparently trained by Majesta wasn’t she?” Alya begins to rattle off hero factoids to a politely interested Zoe.

“The heroes are doing their best to keep up the peace. There are some things that the law systems just can’t keep up with, and… sometimes they just don’t know better anyway.”

“Don’t we know it.” Nino laughs. “I’m pretty sure if you put a lot of what Team Miraculous got up to during the war under a microscope Our Favorite Heroes wouldn’t be coming out of it looking too hot either.” But when he speaks he does so with a distant sort of expression. Alya’s own gaze darkening before she huffs and brushes it off with a “Man I cut so many classes just to keep Paris updated about the goings on of the world back when I was your age Zoe-”

The conversation goes back to a light nature as Zoe then asks how long they’re planning on Staying in New York. To which Alya responds for the next couple of weeks, rattling off their assumed alibis of the competition and NYU. Zoe brightens up at the Amatur Music competition, saying that one of her classmates is entering as well.

“This girl I have history with, Jessica Keynes, and she’s going to be playing her guitar. She’s REALLY stiff competition. She's been playing since she was like eight.”

Nino laughs. “So have I, we shall see who is the ultimate rocker then!”

We cut very quickly to that night, as Nino and Alya are settling in for the night, Alya complaining that she’s ACTUALLY TIRED right now this is absurd, and Nino is clearly wired up from jetlag. He asks after the location of their little Black Thumbtack, when it was last spotted at least, and Alya yawns and pulls out her phone. “A man wearing the crest of the Old Order; Tsering Wan’s--may he rest in hell--stupid ‘family crest’... was spotted by someone whom follows the ladyblog in…. Manhattan I think?”

“And where are we now?”

“Manhattan I think.”

“Sweet. I’ll work off some jetlag and do a scope out of the area, you have anything more concrete than ‘some guy in Manhattan?’”

“Uhhhhh Older Chinese man probably, he was lingering around this one museum of revolutionary history uhhh…. ‘The Elizabeth Hamilton Museum of American History’”

“I’ll check it out.” but as Nino suits up, before we can see his Adult Costume we cut to the same museum, and a pair of shadowy figures approach the closed building.

But we timeskip before we can discover anything about it.

Instead, when we return, it’s to a yawning Nino, it seems he worked off his jetlag and then some, but he’s still awake enough to set up his gear and practice in the competition hall. He’s on the phone as he enters, getting some harsh looks from others practicing, and Alya’s laughter can be heard as he wishes her luck on her “tour” before hanging up.

His attention is caught by someone playing an acoustic guitar, sitting on the edge of the stage as she does so, and he idles rather than begin to bring his gear up there and distract her. When she finishes, he claps awkwardly around his armful of gear.

The girl looks up and sure enough it’s the girl with the dark braid from earlier. She jolts and sort of looks away awkwardly. Seemingly to try and hide behind her guitar. He states that it was beautiful. He can tell she works very hard. She still seems nervous and asks if he’s trying to psych her out or something, you know, make her nervous or something. She’s got rock solid nerves; she's not so easily cowed. (though her hands are shaking on the neck of the guitar) Nino gets up and sits on the edge of the stage with her (after setting down his things carefully) and asks if she needs to talk about it. She uh… she looks like he did during his first gig.

She continues to cling to her guitar and responds that she doesn’t have as much time to practice as some of these kids to, her room isn’t exactly soundproof so she can’t just stay up late practicing or anything, and… well she loves her aunt, but the family business takes up all of their combined time, she feels like she doesn’t have any options in how to be her own person. She’s gonna be under her Aunt’s training until the day she takes over for her with the business, and that’s her future, no matter what. She sort of laughs wryly and says her friend Aeon tells her she’s always trying too hard to break away but she doesn’t get it. If they’re not driving out to do Tribe things it’s always Business Time. She wants to do her own thing for once.

“Tribe things?”

“We live pretty far from the reservation so every weekend or so we drive out to my hometown to help the community. Keeps us connected.”

“I get it. Makes sense. Certainly a quicker drive than New York to Paris.”

“What brought you to the states anyway? I’ve ranted at you enough, stranger.”

“It’s Nino. And your name Mademoiselle?”

“Jessica. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. But uh… My girlfriend and I have been scoping out universities, we’ve been together since college-”

“College?”

“Uhh… the school phase after primary? Before Lycee?”

“....Middle school?”

“Sure.”

“Sorry, go on.”

“Right uh, she was interested in NYU and I have to wait a little longer to look into the art schools in the area so I figured I’d do the competition while I was in the area.”

“Tell her not to waste her time, NYU’s a shithole.”

“Woah, language.”

“I’m a New Yorker. We learn our swear words when we learn to read. So you must be pretty passionate about music too to waste your time in every competition huh?”

“I suppose so. It was always between music and directing, but I have way less opportunities to do films than I do with music.” Nino’s look gets a little distant. He unrolls one of his sleeves and Jessica spots a gnarled looking scar on his arm, the one you may remember him retaining in the finale. “Music got me and my friends through some really rough times.”

“Woah, when’d you get that?” Jessica puts her guitar into the traveling case as she asks.

“You might have been too young I dunno how old you are but… You know how a few years back Paris had this whole ‘war’ going on between Team Miraculous and a bunch of magical supervillains?”

“That was only a couple of years ago, yeah I know about it…Knightowl apparently kept a lot of heroes from going over there themselves. They couldn’t chance someone like Hawkmoth corrupting someone who has powers on their own.”

“Yeah uh… it was a time certainly. Things have quieted mostly, but back then it was… stressful I guess. Troubling. My music gave me a sense of stability. And hey, I only ever got akumatized once!” he winks at Jessica who looks a little uncomfortable but grins back a little after a beat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like?”

“Oh no worries, it was only like the very START of things, and to tell the truth I don’t remember like any of it. My best bud wasn’t allowed to have a birthday party because his old man was working through some stuff and was being a jerk about it, and he was a real jerk about it when I tried to convince him. I got really pissed off and then I was waking up near the eiffel tower with a couple of superheroes standing over me.”

“Huh…”

“Yeah uh, it was certainly something to live through. I guess continuing my music career gave me something to hold on to. You know?”

“Yeah I get it. It’s like a control thing.” but before they can continue on, a phone chime comes off of Jessica and she sort of jolts “Well! I guess I won’t keep you from practicing! I gotta take this.” she grabs her guitar case and shoulders it, giving a jaunty wave and a ‘good luck!’ before darting backstage. But she doesn’t reach for her phone. Reaching down to the pendant around her neck and popping it open. A strange message pops onto the small screen inside, asking if she wants to live under her master’s shadow forever or do something for herself for once. And then beneath the message, co-ordinates.

So she huffs, and puts her guitar in the designated ‘equipment goes here’ room and calls up a friend. “Hey Aeon, I’m gonna do some teen rebellion, can you cover for me? Thanks.”and sure enough when she’s in a more secluded area she presses a button on her communicator and in a flurry of brown and white fabric, Sparrow stands in her place, looking around for just a moment before throwing a grappling hook and ascending into the buildings around.

It’s twilight again when Sparrow arrives at the Museum, the same shadowy figure from before standing in the foreground yet entirely hidden in shadow. “Sparrow.” They greet.

“How’d you get hold of my communicator frequency?” She asks in lieu of greeting.

“Magic.” The figure lifts their hands and wiffles their fingers a little dramatically. “Honestly it’s best not to question it.” They take a step into the dim light, and it’s a brown suited hero, her hair pulled into a bun, with a pair of ribbons that look similar to long ears falling from the base of it, and a pair of antlers perched on her head. “I’m Jackalope.”

“New kid on the block huh?” Sparrow huffs “Well I’m not very interested in joining some Teenage Superheroes Only Team so Sorry for telling you you wasted your time but-”

“Actually, I was hoping for your help. You uh… you know those heroes in Paris? The ones with magical objects?”

Sparrow stiffens a little before answering sort of noncommittal, yeah Knightowl keeps an eye on a lot of things. What’s your point? Jackalope pushes the armwarmers over her forearms up a little to show Sparrow a bracelet on her wrist. She’s got the same type of setup. When she found it, the spirit inside told her a little about their story, apparently when the Europeans came to this side of the world, many many tribes and nations and kingdoms had at least one of their own of them, but when the spaniards absolutely ruined the Aztecs and somehow managed to destroy their Spirit’s home and physical presence, they grew fearful of their own relics being destroyed and began to hide them away. Most refuse to come out of a hidden form unless given to a member of their peoples of origin. Her spirit was one hidden away and forgotten at the start of all of this. And she wants to find these lost relics, these Miraculous, and return them to the peoples that had to leave them behind.

Sparrow asks what any of that has to do with her, and Jackalope walks toward the museum. “My spirit, she was able to ascertain that one of the items in here is a relic, a Miraculous like mine. Given to Marquis de Lafayette by the Oneida tribe as an inherent camouflage. It wouldn’t awaken for him, and thus would be kept safe should anyone who would come looking for it until the time came for it to be retrieved.”

“Oh so you’re robbing a museum. Clever idea to tell a superhero before you try it. How would you even know any of this?”

“My Miraculous contains the spirit of Destiny. Things that will always happen. She hasn’t been wrong yet, and she told me that the Eagle’s claw ring will awaken here.”

Sparrow crosses their arms and huffs. “Well… I don't believe this about as far as I can throw it, but surely if I try to take you down right now you’ll just turn this into a running thing and that’ll be annoying. So I’ll come with, and I’ll test out if your stupid ring is a magical device. And when it’s bullshit I don’t have to worry about you making off with a historical artifact.”

“Do what you need to to feel safe.” Jackalope says with a shrug. She takes out her weapon, a sort of lasso-like rope, and Sparrow takes out their grappling gun, when they’re both distracted by a shout. And like the heroes they both are, completely forget the planned heist to run in the direction of the fearful young man who let it out.

Sure enough it’s the same boy that we saw way back when, the one from Alaska who’d bumped into the old man. He’s struggling with a man dressed in an ornate black and white robe, one arm missing a sleeve with a sparkling arm band around it. He’s demanding in a hissing voice ‘where it is’ and Ryan is insisting he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Jackalope more acting on instinct shouts an aggravated ‘Hey!’ and distracts the old man just long enough for Ryan to escape his grasp. She and Sparrow both run forward, Jackalope grabbing Ryan as he passes her by and asking if he’s hurt while Sparrow descends on the older man.

Sparrow does well but she’s clearly too brash with her approach, eventually the man is able to trap her in a bad exchange and knock the wind out of her. Which is when Jackalope tenses and puts herself between Ryan and the man. Their exchange is fast and tense as the man tries to get her out of the way, but during a certain move he grabs her forearm and humms. “Ah I see… the Virtue of Destiny.” Jackalope jolts and springs back a bit and it’s quick enough for the man to throw her out of the way. But just as he’s about to descend on Ryan again Sparrow comes back in, getting a solid hit in. Now she and Jackalope are fighting together.

Though it seems he just won’t go down. No matter what they hit him with at once or with what, he just keeps getting back up. Ryan, now more than a little afraid, gets a pale hand placed on his wrist and when he turns the figure pulls him into the shadows of a nearby building. It’s in fact Zoe. And Ryan recognizes her as such. The rich girl from their school at least.

They speak quietly, Zoe telling him to keep quiet and to let Jackalope and Sparrow handle this guy, Ryan asking how she knew that rabbit-suited girl and Zoe answering sort of evasively, also not a rabbit a Jackalope, totally different. Ryan responded in a hushed yell that that just raises MORE questions! Zoe waves him off though, insisting that Jackalope and Sparrow will handle this, she’ll keep him safe. Ryan looks back to the fight, then back to Zoe and reaches into his pocket, pulling out that thing that had fallen out of his pocket earlier, revealed now to be a furry ear cuff earring in the shape of a bear’s paw. He says after a moment, that he can do something too. He clasps the cuff onto his ear and takes a deep breath. “Tuuquu Transform me!”

There’s a flash of white that gets sucked into the cuff earring, too fast for Zoe to track, and then he’s transformed, joining the fray just as Jackalope is knocked back for a moment.

And you know, Jackalope might have clearly been pretty beginner at this, but she was somewhat holding her own, but Ryan, when transformed, striking with bear claws attached to his suit, clearly is even less prepared for battle than her and sort of… really makes a fool of himself here. The man makes quick work of him and would have otherwise made a grab for his cuff if Sparrow hadn’t come in right when she could and grabbed him, hefting him over her shoulder and grabbing Jackalope by her lasso and dragging the two of them off into a retreat. The man loses sight of them quickly and grunts in frustration but when he heads in the direction they’d been he passes by the shadow Zoe had been in, and she vanishes before he can see her.

We hold on Zoe for just one more second in the shadows, she huffs and pulls out her phone. “Hey Aeon, it’s Zoe, look this is gonna sound weird but I’m with my girlfriend tonight and I need an Alibi, can my cover story be that I’m working on a project at your house? Thanks.”

But we cut back to the heroes before too long, Sparrow carrying Ryan and dragging Jackalope behind her until they’re far enough away for the poor girl to catch her breath. Which she does, dropping the two onto a rooftop and standing upright. She puts a hand over her goggles before grunting and shoving Jackalope. “Uhm. EXCUSE ME?! What the FUCK was that!?”

Jackalope stumbles more than you'd expect for only being shoved, eyes still wide, face turning slack-jawed now that the three are out of danger. It seems to take her a second to process she’d been shoved at all, her eyes checking her wrist (as if still being transformed isn’t proof enough that the man didn’t take her Miraculous), and then looking at Ryan, who offers a wave.

“HEY!” Sparrow shouts again, pushing a hand against Jackalope’s shoulder and keeping it there, dragging the other girl’s attention back to the hero. “Answer me!”

Taking a deep breath in, her eyes seem less ‘deer-in-headlights’ in appearance when she finally speaks up. “Remember how I talked about those heroes in Paris? Do you know about the war that was being documented on that one site, Ladyblog? That guy was wearing the symbol of the group they were fighting.” Her eyes darted down to her Miraculous again. “He knew what my Miraculous was… If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened…”

She glances back up at Sparrow, and offers a shaky smile that just looks off with the scared look in her eyes. “I don’t have any answers, not really, but thank you for answering my message.”

Sparrow huffs and groans, kicking at the corner of the rooftop before sighing. “Ugh. Fine. FINE.” She finally shouts. “New supervillain. Easy. Easy and fun. New Superhero after magical objects. Simple, Understandable. New Supervillain and a new ‘hero’ who may still just be a cat burglar with a weird gimmick and Some Guy who just has a magical item and both are so green that I’M the most experienced person in the room. Fine. Fine!” She huffs for a moment longer before taking out one of her weapons, a collapsible staff, and grabs Ryan under the jaw with it, tilting his head up. “Explain.”

“Wha?”

“How’d you get your little magic item. Explain.”

“...oh!” Ryan jolts in realization and nods. He takes off the ear cuff and quickly transforms back, a little white Kwami zipping out. “Well when my family was about to leave Alaska, one of my friend’s mothers said that I’d helped out so much with babysitting while she and his dad were off doing Adult things, and she gave it to me as a way to remember my people and remember Alaska when I was gone.” As usual for these types of stories we zoom out to be able to see pictures depicting these exact events behind the three on the rooftop. “Then in my first week here uh… New Yorkers are really aggressive drivers.” The image shows Ryan barely dodging a car that was plowing through the streets. “Tuuquu says that she’s the embodiment of the concept of the afterlife, and people can’t prove themselves until they cheat death while in possession of her.”

Tuuquu then speaks up, voice a soft whisper yet somehow loud enough to be heard. “My little snowball is the first worthy wielder I've had in centuries! That ruffian that tried to take us would never be worthy with a power that doesn’t let him brush with death. I’d be useless in his possession anyway.” Ryan thinks for a moment longer before looking at Jackalope. “Did yours need that kind of trial too? Not gonna lie, it kind of scared me out of doing anything with it until today.” Jackalope however doesn’t seem to be paying attention, she’s pushed back her arm warmer again to look at her bracelet, toying with the gems along the length of it.

“Whuh?” she asks after a pause. Sparrow shakes her head. “I’m calling Knightowl.”

But before she can open her communicator a small orange glow lights up the night, forming a little fox seemingly made out of sparkling light. It pokes its nose against where Sparrow’s nose is and closes the communicator with a paw, the fox trotting on the air and breezing past Sparrow, approaching Jackalope and Ryan, seeming to smell either of their Miraculouses before letting out a happy little ‘chirrup’ noise. It prances forward until climbing up the arm of its summoner, resting on Rena Rouge’s shoulder. We now see her and Carapace make their appearance, in their new and improved adult costumes.

“Hey kids, sorry to interrupt but we’re on the lookout for someone that I’m pretty sure just came your guys’ way.” Rena chirps, and Carapace looks around the rooftop for a second longer before shooting Rena a thumbs up. “Okay good. So…Word on the street is one of our enemies has been spotted near the area. One of the ones from Paris’ war.” Though the knowing look says she already knows. “You folks seen an old man with a magic item nearby?”

“Probably harassing perfectly innocent magic item wielders-” Carapace joins in

“Probably down for child murder.” Rena continues. “And you’re a bunch of literal infants-”

“Hey!” Ryan shouts

“So we’re here to help.”

Sparrow scoffs. “Fine. I wasn’t exactly excited to get lectured by Knightowl anyway. It’s your villain I guess. So what are they? Jackalope said something about that war you guys fought in?”

Rena sighs and looks to Carapace “You wanna go for it Pace?”

“Nah I already trauma dumped on a child a few hours ago. I’m good.”

“You know I'm starting to think the idea of getting a therapist for the team might be a good idea- Anyway… sit down everyone--you too Sparrow--because this is quite the story. And it started a couple of hundred years ago, with our team’s mentor, and even the kindest intentions can start the greatest calamities.” We know this story of course, so we don’t linger too long on that.

We in fact cut right then back to Our girl Zoe, she’s grumbling over something on her phone, still hidden in the shadows of buildings, when a dark figure approaches. Zoe yelps and whips out a taser, the prongs sparking with electricity. Before the figure raises her hands. “Zoe! Zoe! Calm down, it’s me!” Zoe blinks and raises a brow “Aeon? I thought you were at home! That’s why I asked you to-”

“Cover for you? Yeah I’ve been getting that request a lot tonight.” If you’ll remember her, Aeon is shown to be the girl with the bandanna from all the way back earlier. “But uh… I've actually got some stuff to do tonight, and…” She thinks for a second before sighing. “Zoe look, I know whoever you’re backing up right now has your trust, but I actually need to be covered for tonight more than you do. So please, go home.”

Zoe looks offended for a second, and then looks back up at the rooftops before looking away bitterly. “I guess I wouldn’t be any real help anyway.” She thinks for a second longer before patting Aeon’s shoulder. “Whatever you’re doing then, be safe. I know we don’t talk a lot but I’d be really sad if you weren’t in class tomorrow.”

Aeon smiles back at her, before Zoe calls up the family chauffeur, seeing her off with a wave. Aeon takes a breath and looks up at the same rooftops Zoe just was, but her left eye glows a striking violet. “Jessie for god’s sake…” she mutters to herself, before pressing something on the inside of her wrist, in a hologram-like flash Aeon’s street clothes fade away and are replaced with the uniform of Uncanny Valley. She messes with her hair until it’s in a high ponytail instead of the low one, and throws out her arm, her hand extending on her wrist to grab hold of a building which she quickly begins to scale.

Right when Uncanny Valley reaches the rooftop it’s at the very end of Rena’s story, the older hero gently fingering her foxtail Miraculous and looking away with a dark expression, Carapace looking equally grim. “-The Old Order isn’t gone, and the ones we ran into aren’t the only ones who survived the war, so we’ve been on the look out for anyone with that crest. And that man you described… he’s probably one of them, especially if he was making swipes for Your Polar Bear Friend’s Miraculous and Jackalope’s.”

Rena thinks for a second. “Would it be too personal to ask what your Miraculouses are?”

Jackalope looks uncomfortable for a second before Ryan answers, strikingly casual. “Nah. Tuuquu’s the… Kwami did you say? She’s the Kwami of the Afterlife. She told me that her power lets me draw on the wisdom and memories of great magic wielders that came before.”

“I uh…” Jackalope looks to Ryan then back at Rena. “I have uh… Loppe. They’re the Kwami of Destiny. They let me uhm… see into the future, but only the things that will for sure happen no matter what. Things that can’t be changed.”

“Not super combative powers…” Sparrow huffs “AND you’re both green. This is gonna be-!” She cuts herself off before seeing her friend. “Uncanny!”

“Oh hey Sparrow.”

“Oh thank god, Uncanny get over here I need to have someone who knows what they’re doing in my vicinity.” Sparrow runs over and helps Uncanny to the rooftop. “Ugh, You will not BELIEVE the evening I’ve had.”

“I can guess…”

Rena coughs pointedly into her hand and Sparrow looks at her before looking back at Uncanney. “Oh.. right. Uh… This is my friend Uncanny Valley, Uncanny, this is uh… Rena Rouge and Carapace, two of the-”

“Two members of Team Miraculous, I am aware. It’s nice to meet you both. And you two are?” She looks at the two, Ryan at this point has re-transformed and thinks for a second. “I’m uh… Glacier. Yeah, Glacier. Cuz I’ve got a polar bear.”

Jackalope pauses for a second, then sort of sighs, leaning heavily on her knees and shooting a wry grin “I’m Alyssa.”

“You guys know you shouldn’t just be telling people your real names, right? Or removing your magical artifacts? Some heroes may be more cavalier with their identities but not to that degree…” Sparrow huffs “Uncanny, can you do that thing where you don’t scare people as much as I do? I should still tell Knightowl about all of this before they just… you know… FIND OUT.”

“You mean, ‘be nice to people’? Yeah I can do that.” Sparrow puts a hand to their nose and waggles their fingers, to which Uncanny sticks her tongue out.

Sparrow turns away and opens a connection to Knightowl, but just as she does so an explosion half the city away rocks all of them a bit. And as Sparrow patches through the first thing she hears is ‘Can’t talk right now, Jailbreak. Stay safe with your friends. I’ll talk to you later.’

And then the line goes dead. Sparrow grumbles and tries to call again, but no answer. Knightowl either broke their communicator, or turned it off. She curses harshly and pockets it again. “Okay fine. So we catch this guy, your enemy or whatever, we what, use Glacier to draw him back out? He’ll expect that. He’ll know it’s a trap.”

Jackalope thinks for a second before standing up. “Not unless he thinks we’re busting him first.”

Sparrow looks over at her, tilts her head to the side. “Oh you don’t mean-”

“You have any better ideas?”

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Uncanny asks worriedly. To which Jackalope describes her initial reason for being here, the eagle talon ring. And Sparrow responds again that just in case this is some kind of bullshit long con she’ll in fact be testing if it’s a real magic object or not. Alyssa ending it with the idea that this Old Order Guy was probably in the area because he was looking at the same ring and just happened to run into Glacier too.

“Wait-” Says Rena after a beat. “So you were planning on breaking in and stealing an item with massive historical significance?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

In a way not dissimilar to the ML heists of yore, we start on a shadow of Rena Rouge on the scene, blowing a note on her flute to put a bunch of small dark shadows over the security cameras, and Carapace close to the shadows as he peers into the museum. Uncanny unlocks the physical locks, disabling the alarm in the process, but as they all enter it turns out that that was unneeded as the Old Order man was already there. He’s carefully striding through the exhibits and followed quickly by Sparrow at his heels yet out of sight. And when he arrives at the eagle claw, as if by accident, he spots Jackalope and Glacier in the reflection off the glass. He lashes out with his weapon, a scimitar, and it makes connection with Glacier's claws, he looks about as surprised as the Older man that he was able to catch it, but just as the clang rings out Jackalope throws her lasso around an unrelated exhibit, tipping over some prop replicas and making the alarms go off. And once they’re blaring in everyone’s ears she shouts ‘NOW!’

And the other more experienced heroes descend. The combination of Uncanny’s technology, and Rena and Carapace’s battle prowess leaves the old man very distracted indeed as Jackalope and Glacier approach the ring case. Glacier sort of nervously puts his claws on the edge of the glass and rotates his hand in an uneven circle, the glass disk pulling away with him. And Jackalope looks into the case, about to reach for it before looking back “Sparrow!” Sparrow looks over from her part of the fight and huffs. “What?!”

“We had a deal. This is on you!”

Sparrow looks back at Jackalope, then at the ring. She pulls away from the fight, Jackalope tagging in (less coordinated of course but she’s holding up) and approaches the ring. She barely looks at Glacier before reaching a hand in. “This ring was from the Oneida tribe.” She says quietly.

“Yeah, given to Marquis de Lafayette, right?”

“If it’s real it was to hide it from someone who could use it. Probably only another Oneida.”

“Would it work on you then?” Glacier raises a brow at her, to which Sparrow closes her fingers around the talon-

And in a flash of light a little Kwami stretches and yawns. The Old Order man finds an opening through Jackalope and lunges forward, but just as he does there’s a burst of light.

And Sparrow stands there no more.

In Sparrow's place stands a young woman with hair in wrapped braids, a feathered cloak, and in her hands a seemingly wooden bow catching the man’s hand.

“... That doesn’t belong to you, little girl.”

“I get the strange feeling that it’s more partial to me than it is to you.” She responds. “I wonder what this thing does…” she says with a small chuckle.

The fight continues, Rena, far more excitedly begins to direct the kids. Limbs and weapons going every which way, but just as before, the man is simply not going down. The children start to quip off of each other, Jackalope cheering that Sparrow grew up to be an Eagle, Glacier wondering out loud how this team up is gonna go, Uncanny Valley huffing and puffing about being the only non-magical kid in this team up right now. And of course Carapace and Rena flirting outrageously with each other.

The man doesn’t go down, but they are able--at Rena’s behest--to corral him into a more heavily armored location, to which Rena signals Uncanny who reactivates the security measures and traps him behind slamming bars.

The children all look at eachother and Sparrow, now that we can see some of her face, pinches her expression into a sort of pout, looking away and huffing. “Good hustle I guess.”

“That’s ‘Sparrow’ for ‘thanks’” Uncanny Valley chirps, bumping her shoulder against hers. “Now, what do we say next?”

Sparrow looks away further, now scowling. “.....Sorry I thought you were a thief Jackalope.”

“It’s okay…” Jackalope laughs quietly, especially as Uncanny grins widely at Sparrow and coos about how proud she is. Sparrow looks away, face turning dark with a blush. “God! You’re worse than my Aunt!” She finally shouts even as Uncanny grabs her and pulls her into a hug from the back.

But Sparrow takes off the ring and the transformation undoes itself around her, turning back into her usual Sparrow look. “Sorry for waking you and immediately putting you to work uh…”

“Nyoote.” the eagle Kwami responds. “I am the Kwami of Courage! And it’s wonderful to meet my new wielder, Sparrow was it?”

“It’s uh…” she looks over to Rena and Carapace. “It doesn’t matter actually.” She moves to hand the Miraculous to them. “These guys are gonna need you more than I do.”

Carapace looks about to take it from her, but loosely closes her fingers back around the ring. “Keep him. We just need to make sure they stay out of the Old Order’s grip. We’re not looking to take other people’s cultural artifacts ourselves.”

“Besides, didn’t Jackalope say she was hoping to return your guys’ artifacts back to their peoples? That’s way more useful than us keeping them in a box hoping they don’t need to come out. ‘Pace and I were just here to prove some theories and take care of this guy. I think you guys have some real potential myself. Learn to use your powers, all of you. And when you think you can do it, contact us. Okay?”

The three magic-wielding children look at each other and then look back at the two and nod. “I’ll keep an eye on them.” Uncanny agrees with a nod. “I’ve been helping this one with her people skills since she became Sparrow, I can train the others too.” She puffs up her chest and Sparrow yanks the bottom of her mask off to stick her tongue out, which Uncanny returns.

We see a brief timeskip from here with a bit of music that sounds like it could possibly be a new theme song playing over it, first of Zoe re-entering on an undisclosed street corner and borderline tackle hugging a de-transformed Alyssa (and sneaking a kiss to the girl’s cheek), the competition, Jessica playing her guitar and singing, Nino mixing on his turntables, Alya touring through a school, Aeon on the phone with several names on a list titled ‘people who are “at my house,’’ Ryan fiddling with the ear cuff and speaking quietly to Tuuquu. Tuuquu snacking on a can of anchovies.

It turns out that Jessica won the bronze in the competition and Nino the silver, but they both sort of sigh in good nature when it turns out neither of them won, passed over for some other white boy with a decent voice.

Then we cut to a sort of ‘that night’ when the children all make their way to the same rooftop as before. Jackalope carrying Zoe on her back, Sparrow with the eagle on her finger but not transformed.

“Uhm, excuse me, who’s that?” Sparrow asked sort of testily.

“Oh, this is my Secret Keeper Zoe. If we’re going to be covering for eachother then she should know too.”

“I’m rich I can cover in ways Aeon Anderson can’t.”

“Rude.” Uncanny Valley huffs, and with the flicker of a hologram she’s there. “I cover for way too many people, granted I'm doing hero work too.”

“Really? We’re just going to get started on this?” Sparrow asks, but just as she does so Alyssa and Ryan detransform, their Kwamis eagerly introducing themselves to each other.

Sparrow yanks off her mask and sure enough Jessica Keynes rolls her eyes at the lot of them. “I’m surrounded by incompetence.”

“Admit it, Jessie,” Aeon chirps, swinging her arm around her in a half-hug, “you love us!~”

“Hideous. I feel nothing.” Jessica pushes Aeon away from her a bit.

“Oh also! This is super weird but-” Aeon cuts back in “Can Kwamis not be detected by technological means? Because I can only see our cute little friends out of one eye and it’s not the robot one.” she proved her point by winking either eye with Nyoote hovering over her.

We slowly pan back as the kids chat, to show Carapace and Rena Rouge watching from a distance.

“So what do you think?” Nino asks quietly.

“I think it feels absolutely absurd that we were their age when we first started out.” Alya responds, just as quiet, but there’s a sort of deep sadness in her voice. “I mean… were we ever REALLY that young? I guess we can only hope they won’t be facing as much as we did at that age, huh?”

“Somehow I get the feeling they’ll be okay.” Nino looks up and a shadow passes over them both “If only because they’ll have a little more guidance.”

Knightowl descends on the group shouting “SPARROW!”

“Ah crap, SCATTER!” The kids all run away from the furious superhero, all of them laughing and taking various magical or practical ways out. Jackalope lassoing another building, Glacier tipping backwards off the building, Uncanny Valley grappling a different building with her extendo arm, Eagle jumping high and catching a thermal to glide away, and Zoe scrambling down the fire escape ladder. Knightowl growls in annoyance and shouts that Sparrow is SO grounded when she gets home!

Roll credits.

But for those whose DVR’s didn’t cut the recording they do see one last moment. They see a prison cell and the same old man as before but now in an orange jumpsuit. He’s laying on the prison bed with a hand over his eyes. But a little voice gets his attention. “Du Chao. Little Badger?” The old man, now recognized as Du Chao, cracks open an eye to see his ever faithful black and white Kwami, holding the arm band likely confiscated from him upon arrest. “Patti, old friend.”

“Our work is not yet done little badger.” the Kwami places its Miraculous back in his hand. “For the Order. We must continue to fight. We are perseverance.”

“Indeed we are. And those children shall know that we will not be giving in easily.” Du Chao smiles softly at his Kwami, stroking them gently with a finger. “Well, Patti, shall we make our escape?”

“Gladly.”

The end

#Miraculous rewrite #Rewrite #Miraculous World Rewrite #Miraculous New York

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