#blare minervas

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

(Space Interns Masterpost)

“Starcraft Seraph, you are being hailed by starcraft Aegis,” Blare said.

All five of Aegis’s crew were gathered in the tractor beam bay. Glen and Blare sat side-by-side on the bench at the console. Glen had rigged up an outdated communication device and was helping Blare contact their next mission.

A UCD – Unresponsive Craft in Doldrums – had been reported. UCDs were often cases of power surges; knocked power could disable both drives and communication. In most cases, UCDs just needed a jolt.

But this particular UCD should have had backup power. Glen knew this because it was Seraph, a fellow intern craft. Seraph’s docking port was right next to Aegis’s. Glen had met Seraph’s pair of engineers before.

Seraph had been on a mission, but was unresponsive for days. When it was located, it was approaching orbit of a Class 4 planet. Aegis was assigned to take care of it.

“Starcraft Seraph, you are being hailed by starcraft Aegis,” Blare repeated. She enunciated every word. “Please provide your Gamma code.”

There was a beat of silence, and then a crackly sound came from the speaker – a series of words that Glen didn’t recognize.

Blare looked up at Glen. “That’s their code,” she said. “It’s definitely them.” Glen opened the comm. “Starcraft Seraph, can we provide assistance?” Blare asked.

A beat of silence. “Please. We need all hands on deck. We have injured.”

Blare’s head snapped up. She looked over at Slipper, who patted his medicine pack. Glen opened the comm, and Blare said, “We are prepared to board your craft and assist.”

Silence for one beat, two beats. Then, “How many are you?”

“Five,” Blare replied.

After a few moments of silence, the crackly voice said, “We have only four tractor beam chambers.”

“And I thought our craft was small,” Tabby muttered dryly.

Blare looked over at Glen, who waved a hand to indicate it was not a problem. “I can send you all over,” he said. “I’ll set a timer for myself separately.”

Blare nodded. “We can come in two trips,” she said over the comm.

“You’re heavensent, Aegis,” said Seraph’s representative. “We won’t forget this kindness.”

After ending communication, Blare gestured to the tractor beam chambers. Brando, Slipper, and Tabby stepped up and into the chambers while Glen primed the console. “Their system’s still online,” he remarked. “That’s lucky.”

“So, easy beam?” Blare asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right behind you.”

Blare hopped onto her pedestal. “See you there,” she said cheerily.

Glen gave a thumbs-up. “See you there,” he said. Then he activated the tractor beam. His crew’s feet lifted from the ground, and then they vanished. The tractor beam sent them from Aegis to Seraph.

Glen felt the console buzzing under his fingertips. He waited for it to stop, to indicate that the tractor beam had been successful – but the console continued to hum.

Frowning, Glen counted to ten. Tractor beams were only supposed to take five seconds at most. But still, the console hummed.

“C’mon, you silly ship,” Glen muttered, patting the console. “I’ve got to get over there, too.”

The console’s only reply was to hum louder and buzz harder. Glen leaned in to listen to the parts. If he didn’t know any better, then he would say they were receiving a tractor beam instead of sending one.

Did the beam fail? Are they being sent back?

Then, four figures materialized in the tractor beam chambers. Glen’s head snapped up.

It wasn’t his crew. It was four humans, all wearing uniforms just like Glen and his crew, but there was blood all over them.

Glen’s eyes widened. “What –“

One of the humans, her blonde hair caked with blood, stepped out of her chamber and reached for something on her belt. Glen's heart sank when he recognized it as a beamer – a sonic weapon. She pointed it at Glen’s face. “Step away from the console,” she commanded.

Glen backed away and raised his hands. “Okay – okay, yeah. My crew – are they -"

The other three stepped from their chambers. A man with his arm in a sling curled his lip. “You don’t get to ask questions,” he snapped.

“Sorry,” Glen said. “I don’t really know how this works.”

“You either shut up or die,” said the woman with the beamer. “I don’t care which.”

“Okay,” Glen said. He couldn’t help but continue. “But that’s a non-lethal weapon, so –“ He broke off as the other three pulled out their own beamers and pointed them at Glen’s head. “Okay. Yes, four will kill me,” he conceded.

A woman with neon green hair took a step towards Glen. “What part of shut up do you not understand?” she snarled.

“Sorry – sorry,” Glen said.

“You’re the engineer, right?” asked the woman with blood in her hair. Glen nodded. “So you know how to fix this?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a mechanical sphere.

Glen lifted his head. “That’s a condense drive core,” he said.

“I know what it is!” the woman growled. “Can you fix it or not?”

Glen swallowed. “Um…I mean, it depends what’s wrong with it,” he said. “But –“

Just then, a familiar voice crackled through the comm. “Aegis to – well, Seraph to Aegis, I guess,” Blare said. “Glen, are you there?”

“Don’t even think about answering that,” the woman with green hair spat.

“Okay,” Glen said. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Glen, are you there? The comm is rigged up on this end, but there’s no one here.” Blare sounded suspicious.

“Can you fix this?” the blonde woman repeated, holding up the condense drive core.

“I can’t promise anything,” Glen said, “but I can try.”

This answer satisfied them. They lowered their beamers. “Good choice,” said the woman with the core. She turned her back and started giving orders in a low voice.

Glen watched them for a few moments. Then, before he could think himself out of it, Glen lunged forward and grabbed the comm.

The woman with green hair raised her beamer. “Shoot him!” she shrieked. The others raised their weapons.

Glen ducked behind the console. He crouched, holding the comm close to his chest. He spoke quickly.

“Ptahfi to Seraph!” he shouted. “Guys, they came here! They’re armed! They’re –“

But before Glen knew it, the console was surrounded by the hijackers. Glen looked up as the woman with bloody blonde hair raised her beamer to Glen’s forehead.

She pulled the trigger.

[classiclumsy]

𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢: 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔯𝔲𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℌ𝔬𝔤𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔫

Summary: A cozy Sunday morning with Severus is interrupted by an unexpected visit from friends, leading to a fun and lively outing in Hogsmeade, ending with a tender moment between you and Severus.

Pairing : Severus Snape x Fem! Reader

Warning : This story has explicit sexual content and is for mature audiences (NSFW +18)

A/N : This is my first time writing fanfiction, and I’m so excited (and a little nervous) to share it with you. English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, but I’m doing my best! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any feedback or thoughts would mean the world to me, especially since I’m still learning.

You are jolted awake by the sound of the alarm blaring. Groaning, you slam the snooze button and roll to the side of the bed, burying your face into the pillow in an attempt to escape the noise.

“Merlin’s beard, It’s Sunday!” You are planning to spend at least one or two more hours in bed after a rough week of teaching and extra classes for students who need extra preparation for the upcoming exam. Then you feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, and a deep voice chuckles, sending a shiver through your body and turning it to jelly.

“Good morning, my sweet potato. What’s got you all grumpy this morning, hmm?” You snuggle closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you playfully fumble with the light, trying to balance morning brightness with cozy darkness. “Mmm, Sev, it’s still too early.” Even after five years of marriage, Severus still rises early just to watch you sleep. He finds a quiet joy in seeing your peaceful face and listening to your gentle, rhythmic breathing.

Then he showers your face with tender kisses, each one a gentle caress that stirs you awake. “Come on, sleepyhead, I need you to brighten up my morning,” he teases with a playful grin. You smile, your eyes still closed, and whisper, “If you keep kissing me like that, I might just drift back to sleep.”

He chuckles, his voice low and teasing. “Then I guess I’ll have to find another way to wake you up.” With a mischievous grin, Severus gently lifts the blanket and straddles you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with desire. He then places a soft, lingering kiss between your breasts. “I could listen to you make those sounds all morning,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You gasp softly, your body arching instinctively. “You’re quite the morning person yourself,” you reply breathlessly, your fingers tracing along his arm.

Severus chuckles again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Just trying to make sure my favorite person starts the day with a smile.”

Suddenly, a loud banging echoes from the living room, jolting both of you. The eerie babbling voice grows louder, inching closer with every passing second. You remain frozen in place, Severus still straddling you, neither of you daring to move. Then, with a deafening crash, the bedroom door bursts open.

As the door bursts open, Minerva’s frustration quickly shifts to enthusiasm. “Oh, Merlin, Albus! I’ve told you —it’s not okay to barge in like this!” she says in a thick Scottish accent.

Albus, looking both apologetic and amused, steps forward. “My deepest apologies for the dramatic entrance. We thought we’d add a bit of excitement to your weekend!”

Filius, grinning mischievously, adds, “Yes, and we figured you’d appreciate a break from whatever ‘important’ thing you were doing. What do you say?”

Severus, still visibly irritated, narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Couldn’t this have waited? We’re in the middle of something.”

Minerva, noticing his frustration, quickly responds, “I’m sorry for the timing. We genuinely wanted to include you both. If you’d prefer, we can give you a moment to finish up.”

Albus, sensing the tension, offers a conciliatory nod. “Indeed. We’ll be outside, plotting our next grand adventure. Let us know if you decide to join.” With that, Albus and Filius step back into the corridor, leaving you and Severus to address the unexpected intrusion.

You groan as you process the sudden commotion, already wide awake. You smack Severus lightly on the arm and exchange a look with him as he smirks and deadpans, “Ah, just what I needed —another one of Albus’s surprise visits.”

“Maybe he’s here to spill the latest Hogwarts scandal,” you chuckle.

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Excellent. I was beginning to think we’d gone out of fashion without a dose of Albus’s chaos.”

With that, you both get up and get dressed, exchanging amused glances as you prepare. As you head out, Severus suddenly grabs your waist and whispers, “If you’re a good girl, I might have a special reward for you when we get home.”

With a playful smile, you head out to join Albus, Filius, and Minerva, who are already on their way to Hogsmeade for butterbeer. As you walk, you can’t help but wonder if this outing will involve anything more dramatic than a few rounds of frothy drinks and some juicy Hogwarts gossip.

As you and Severus head out to join Albus, Minerva, and Filius, the morning’s chaos seems to melt away. The group’s antics at the Three Broomsticks turn the unexpected intrusion into a highlight of the day. Minerva shares a story about Filius’s ill-fated attempt to enchant a teapot to sing, leading to a hilarious off-key performance. Filius, pretending to be offended, vows to get his revenge.

Severus leans in and whispers, “If this is the result of a quiet morning, I’m starting to think we should plan more surprises.”

You laugh and reply, “Only if they involve more butterbeer and less of Albus’s dramatic entrances.”

Just then, Albus, ever the showman, stands up and waves his wand dramatically. “Time for a special treat! Filius is going to try out his latest spell—turning butterbeer into chocolate!”

Filius looks both excited and nervous as he performs the spell, which results in chocolate splattering everywhere. The group erupts in laughter, and even Severus can’t help but join in.

Later, as you and Severus prepare to leave, Severus leans in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, after all this chaos, I think it’s only fair we return the favor.” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

Severus grins. “I’ve been brewing up a few ideas for some harmless pranks. We could use some clever enchantments to liven things up for Albus and the others.” You laugh, delighted by the idea. “Sounds perfect. Let’s start planning our little revenge. I’m sure they’ll appreciate a bit of extra excitement.”

Hand in hand, you and Severus walk back to Hogwarts, already brainstorming creative pranks and plotting ways to surprise your friends. The day’s chaos has only fueled your excitement for the next round of fun, and you can’t wait to see what mischief lies ahead.

———

As you and Severus reach your shared quarters, you start taking off your outer layer of clothing. Meanwhile, Severus casts a silencing charm and adds extra security to the door to ensure Albus and the gang won’t barge in again. “Can’t have another surprise visit,” he teases with a smirk.

Suddenly, Severus picks you up in a bridal style, making you gasp in surprise. He quickly silences your reaction with a kiss, causing you to moan softly against his lips. With a swift motion, he kicks the bedroom door and gently sets you down on the bed. “I think we’ve earned a little privacy, don’t you?”

Severus takes your chin in one hand and kisses you with desperate urgency, not giving you a chance to speak. His lips press against yours with an intense, unspoken need.

After pulling back, he looks at you with a commanding gaze. “Strip,” he orders. Without hesitation, you slowly unbutton your blouse and trousers, leaving only your underwear.

As you reach to take off your matching black underwear, he swiftly grabs your hand and pins it above your head. “Hold on, baby girl. Let me have some fun first,” he says with a cheeky grin. Severus knows how to be gentle, but in the bedroom, his dominance takes over, keeping you on edge until you’re desperately begging for release—and it only turns you on even more.

Severus presses you into the mattress, his body pinning you down so completely that you can’t move. His hardness presses against your core, and a moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Already, baby?” he murmurs with a sly grin.

“Sevy, please…” you whisper, your voice full of need. It feels so good that you can’t help but slowly grind against his hardness.

A low growl of disapproval escapes him as he tightens his grip. “Did I say you could move?” he asks, his voice stern, making your heart race even more.

“No, Daddy,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with both anticipation and submission.

Hearing those nicknames is enough to make him go feral. With a sudden, fierce need, he releases you and quickly strips off his clothing, his eyes never leaving you.

At the end of the bed, Severus kneels and lifts your legs over his shoulders. As he presses his finger between your legs, he feels your wetness. A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Already wet, baby girl?” he murmurs. You can’t help but moan at the touch, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

Severus then moves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening core. His eyes roam over the sight with a mixture of admiration and desire. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he says, his voice full of anticipation as he takes in the view.

After a moment of relentless licking and fingering, Severus has you on the edge, your body drenched in sweat and your voice hoarse from screaming in pleasure. You are soaking the bed beneath you, each touch driving you further into desperation.

“Please, Severus,” you beg, your voice trembling with need. “Just fuck me already.” He smirks, enjoying your agony. “Not yet,” he says, his control unwavering as he refuses to let you come.

When Severus decides he’s had enough of teasing your sweet core, he pulls back with a satisfied smile. He rises to his feet and positions you on your stomach, lifting you effortlessly. As he stands behind you, he pumps his hand slowly along his length, his movements deliberate and teasing. He shifts to brush the head of his cock against your clit, each touch making you gasp. “I want you to feel every inch,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Are you ready for me?”

You nod, arching your back with a sob. “Ready, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

Severus moves with a smooth, steady motion, sinking into you in one long, continuous thrust. He groans into your back as you tighten around him. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. Your entire body seizes, and the world seems to blur as stars burst behind your closed eyes.

As he fucks you hard, driving you to the edge, he asks, “Are you close?” When you can barely manage to respond, he growls, “I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Desperate and overwhelmed, you cry out, “I’m so close, Severus! Please, let me cum!” With a satisfied growl, he gives you the go-ahead, and you come undone, your body trembling with release.

As Severus pushes you closer to the edge, his movements grow more urgent and intense. His groans are deep and primal, a raw expression of his pleasure. When he finally comes, it is a powerful release, filling you with his warmth. He guides your hips along his cock, making sure both of you feel every ounce of pleasure.

By the time he finishes, you are completely spent, your muscles feeling like jelly from the intense experience. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as you both catch your breath, exhausted but satisfied.

Severus eases out of you and offers soft kisses and gentle touches to help you come down from the high. He carefully removes your soaked underwear and bra, his movements tender. Warm cloths glide over your sweat-sticky skin, cleaning up all the traces of your earlier intensity. This thoughtful choice makes you love him even more, appreciating how deeply he connects with you.

Severus gently tugs you up to the top of the bed, his hands guiding you with care. Once you are settled, he climbs beneath the blankets beside you, pulling them snugly around the two of you. He wraps an arm around you and whispers, “You were perfect. I love holding you like this. Just being with you makes everything better.”

“Love you,” you whisper tiredly, your voice barely audible. Severus nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs softly, “I love you too, more than you know.” The intimacy of the moment wraps around you like a cocoon.

As you exchange whispered words of love, a peaceful calm settles over you. Slowly, you both drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

[romione-trope-fest]

When You Wish Upon a Star

Title: When You Wish Upon A Star

Author: adenei

Trope: Soulmates

Summary: 

Three years after graduating, Hermione finds herself at the annual Hogwarts Alumni Quidditch Tournament, still single, living alone with Crookshanks, and no closer to finding love than when she was a student here. But sitting there on the sidelines, she can’t help wishing for something more, and finds herself weighing her options as the party rages on, mourning the lost chances of ever being anything more than Ron’s best friend.

She doesn’t have to wallow for very long though, because as fate would have it, her prospects for love suddenly take a turn…but is it for the better?

WC: 2360 (Multichap) 

Rating: M

TW: none

**********

Music blares at an overwhelming decibel level, but the crowd of people somehow manage to shout and cheer above it. There’s a strong smell of Firewhiskey in the air, and if the colors red and gold could throw up everywhere, it’d still be tamer than the sight in front of her. This isn’t Hermione’s scene at all, yet here she stands in the stuffy common room, packed to the brim with more people than it should probably be allowed to hold. 

It’s crazier than any victory party Hermione’s ever attended, and for once she’s more than happy to not have any Prefect or Head Girl duties falling on her shoulders. If things get out of hand, that’s on Minerva. She’s the one who let them all in for the celebration, knowing full well what would probably happen. 

After all, how else would you expect a large group of former students to act whilst reliving their glory days? It doesn’t even matter that the Annual Hogwarts Alumni Quidditch Tournament was specifically designed to be an inter-house event, or that participants were required to write their names down to be magically sorted into teams. Gryffindor is always over-represented, which meant there’d be major celebrations regardless of which team won.

Still, Hermione appreciates the camaraderie it builds. There have been many efforts to rebuild the magical world following Voldemort’s defeat, and the recently instituted alumni event is one of those things that people have looked forward to over the last few summers.

This year, though, proves to be a little more chaotic. Not that Hermione would actually know. It’s her first time attending one of these things—if only as a spectator. But based on the stories she’s heard about the past couple years, she has a hard time believing it’s ever gotten this out of hand.

But maybe that’s because of the way the teams shook out—notably with Harry and Ron being chosen for the same team. They’d also somehow managed to get Ginny, George, and Demelza. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh when she’d found out. Regardless of her limited Quidditch knowledge, even she knew they were an unstoppable group, and there was no hope for her to skip sitting in the stands this year. Especially not when Ron had flooed straight to Hermione’s flat when lists were delivered, begging her to come and watch. Of course she’d said yes. 

She’s glad she came though. It’s been nice to see everyone, and things were made a little sweeter when Ron and Harry won the Alumni Cup. After all, there’d been moments—both during the feast and the current after-party—where Hermione almost felt as though she were a student again. Almost. 

But she’s not. Three years have passed since she graduated, and while nothing about Hogwarts has changed since the last time she roamed its ancient halls, everything about her has. Or maybe it hasn’t, depending on the way she looks at it. 

Is she currently pursuing her dream of working up the ranks at the Ministry within the Magical Law Department? Yes. She’s the lead junior lawyer within the division of Being Rights. 

Has she also enrolled at King’s College to study Muggle Law in an attempt to equate Being Rights to the Human Rights movement? Also true. 

And to top it all off, she’s a fully-fledged adult, living her life with all the accompanying responsibilities it brings with it, which may just be her greatest accomplishment of all. 

But then again, she’s still single, living alone with Crookshanks, and no closer to finding love than when she was a student here. So perhaps that’s the reason she’s found every excuse to not come back. Because it’s all a woeful reminder of how stagnant her life is. Not to mention how unpromising her love life is and probably always will be.

And this party is doing nothing to make her feel better about any of that either. If anything, she’s filled with resentment as she watches Ron being hoisted in the air like some kind of hero, amplified only by the way a bottle of Firewhiskey is shoved in his hand. He takes it as if he hasn’t got a care in the world, and another pang of loneliness reverberates from her chest. 

How is it that she’s still watching from the sidelines? Why must her heart tug mournfully in her chest when she should be celebrating and reuniting with her former classmates?

Oh, that’s right. Because this is all a sad reminder of how she never stood a chance to be anything more than Ron’s best friend.

Hermione half-expects someone to jump his bones—much in the same way Lavender did during their sixth year—whisking him into a relationship that pushes him further away from her. Further away from the friendship she cherishes more than anything in the world. Because it’s the most she’ll ever have with him. 

You think you’d be okay with it after nearly eight years of harboring feelings for him.

Yeah, well, she’s not. Not even close. Maybe she should have taken the job offer to work in France when she had the chance. The one her mother still finds every excuse to mention because she couldn’t believe Hermione had passed it up. 

Hermione had used her uni classes as the primary excuse for staying in London, but that was because she didn’t want to admit the truth. That when she’d told Ron over dinner one evening, he’d looked at her with that infuriatingly disapproving gaze—the same one he’d given her when she went with Viktor to the Yule Ball. And when he thought she was taking too many classes or stayed up too late to revise. She could go on and on, but the point was clear. He didn’t want her to take it. 

The look wasn’t what made her stay, though. She would have overlooked that because she’d seen it so many times before. But then he’d gone so far as to say ‘don’t go.’

She thought—just for a moment—that maybe his request would be followed by her deepest desire. That maybe he’d kiss her and profess he’s been in love with her all this time and that’s the real reason he wanted her to stay.

But no, he’d made some quip about portkeys being expensive, and what would he do without their weekly dinners or his lunch partner when there were no cases and he was stuck at his desk? All her hopes had been squashed. Her dreams were crushed. Yet she still turned down the position—because she could never quite say no to him. 

Maybe it’d be easier if some other guy seemed remotely interested in her. Sure, she’d been on her fair share of dates. She really has tried to move on. It’s not her fault it’s all to no avail. Eventually, they all do something that makes her compare them to Ron, and once that happens, all hope is lost. They never stack up. 

If she was smart, she’d play the field right now, see what options are available and just go for it. With nothing better to do, she figures why not? There’s nothing wrong with women playing the field, is there? Maybe taking control of her love life is exactly what she needs to turn her luck around. And what better place to do so than right here, in a room full of people she already knows?

Um, you’re hearing your thought process, right?

She shakes her inner consciousness away and attempts to see if there’s anyone here she never considered simply because she was blinded by the best friend who never wanted anything more. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to spot Neville halfway across the room. He’s single, right? Ugh, she should really know this, considering how he’s always had a soft spot for her. Is she that shitty of a friend to anyone other than Ron or Harry?

No, stop thinking about Ron. This is the whole reason you're scouting dating opportunities, isn’t it?

Right, yes, keep looking. Oh, there’s Seamus—not that she imagines him being anything more than a fling. Three years later and he still isn’t the serious type. Would she really want to go there? Especially considering she’s the one who ruined his conquest to sleep with every Gryffindor in their year—granted, she never should have overheard that conversation to begin with, but it wasn’t her fault she’d gone up to the boys dormitory looking for Ron.

That didn’t take long.

Ignoring the voice in her head, Hermione shudders and tries not to think about that grotesque fact. At the time, she never thought she’d be the sole reason for the holdout. Because Lavender was into him and Parvati would never compete with her best friend for a man…or pursue him after. But apparently Lav and Parvati got drunk enough to opt for a threesome at some point during seventh year…Hermione never asked for any more details when she found out after the war, but good for them, she supposes?

Maybe we’ll save Seamus for an absolute last choice—’desperate times, desperate measures’ thing.

Hermione continues scanning the room and notices Colin Creevey standing on a table. There’s an old tie wrapped around his head and he’s moving wildly to whatever song is playing. Briefly, she remembers how narrowly he escaped death—the killing curse missing him by mere centimeters during the final battle. It’s nice to see him living life to the fullest. 

He’d always been so nice in school, if a little too eager to please people sometimes. Of course, it isn’t necessarily a bad quality. Maybe he could be a viable option, and she wonders briefly what he’s doing with his life now—when he’s not drunkenly dancing on tables, that is. 

And then, of course, Hermione sees the obvious—and probably best—option: Viktor Krum. Viktor, who hadn’t even gone to Hogwarts, but stepped in this weekend after finding out the teams were short a seeker. How convenient that he’d been in town the week before playing the Harpies. Apparently, Ginny had casually mentioned the tournament to him, so he’d written to Minerva and offered to fill the spot for the lacking team. 

She’d learned all this at dinner earlier when they sat together and caught up. She wouldn’t say he seemed interested, but he was definitely excited to see her, leaving her wondering if perhaps she’d shut him down too soon back in fourth year. All in the hopes that her best friend might one day notice her.

Ha, that joke’s on you. And you’re thinking about Ron again.

She averts her gaze from the Bulgarian Seeker, inwardly chastising herself as she searches for Ron amongst the sea of people. If she’s going to keep thinking about him, she might as well use the opportunity to sneak a few glances in. It’s all a good plan until she finds the red-headed apple of her eye chatting up some girl she doesn’t even recognize. 

Her meal from the Hogwarts feast churns in her stomach and now she’s sure she’s scowling. She hates how the jealousy still consumes her, but doesn’t know how to keep it at bay. 

“Begs me to come then chats up other girls all night,” she mumbles to herself, so quiet that no one could possibly overhear amongst the cacophony.

Why wouldn’t he, though?

Her inner thoughts torment her with a valid counter-argument, and she hates every second of it. He’s perfectly capable of talking to whoever he wants—male or female, it doesn’t matter. She has no claim on him. He’s not hers. He can talk to whoever he bloody well wants to. 

And you can leave. 

Yes! That’s right. She can. And that’s exactly what she’ll do. She doesn’t owe it to anyone to stay. Least of all him.

Impulsively, she grabs a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey on a nearby table, takes a swig, then heads for the portrait hole. While she intends to put the bottle back, the compulsion to nick it wins, and Hermione finds herself wandering the corridors with it after she slips out of the common room unnoticed. 

But where exactly is she headed? Truthfully, she hasn’t thought far enough ahead to consider that. The only Floo that’s open is in the opposite direction and to double back would mean she’d have to pass by the entrance to Gryffindor Tower again—something she doesn’t want to do. She supposes she could Apparate. But…wait. It’s ironic that her resentment towards her best friend makes her forget the one rule she’s chided on forever. 

You can’t Apparate in or out of Hogwarts. 

So much for thinking a quick, quiet escape was achievable. She stops walking and leans against one of the bare stone walls, welcoming the cool, rough texture against her back as she takes another swig from the bottle. If she wasn’t so mentally fried and overstimulated from the rager, she’d probably be more concerned about who else put their mouth on it. But that’s a problem for Future Hermione. Right now, Present Hermione just wants to wallow in self pity and heartache.

Too bad fate has other plans for her.

“Hermione!” an all-too-familiar voice calls. 

Well, that was short-lived.

She doesn’t respond but also doesn’t make an effort to move either. “Fuck, where’d she go?” she hears Ron say to himself. “Couldn’t have gone far, ri—there you are!”

Lolling her head to one side, she rolls her eyes. In the driest tone she can muster, she mutters, “You caught me.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Because I didn’t want to watch you take another girl upstairs to fuck.

“Too loud.”

He frowns. “Are you going home then?”

Hermione eyes him again. Why does he seem so upset about it? It’s not like he was even giving her any attention back there.

“Haven’t decided. Just needed some air.”

“Oh.” 

He watches her for a moment, then his face splits into a smile, like he’s got an idea. He reaches forward, stripping the bottle of Firewhiskey from her hand and replaces it with his own. A warm sensation shoots up her arm at the contact and she hates how much she loves it.

“What are you—” she asks when he pulls her along the corridor.

“You said you needed air, right?”

“Um, yes.” 

But it was an excuse. I wasn’t actually serious.

“Great, then come with me.”

Every fiber of her being screams that this is probably going to be a bad idea, but the fact that he’s here with her and offering more one-on-one time is hardly something she’s going to pass up. So, she lets him whisk her away, silently choosing to reap the consequences in the morning.

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

you belong with me (part 2) // fred weasley

Summary: You’re stubborn, so when your best friend tries to convince you that Bucky Barnes isn’t the right guy for you, you try to prove him wrong. In the process, you end up in a place you thought only existed in books, where you meet the one.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, 

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @error501beta​ for proofreading this!

part 1 | main masterlist

Avengers Compound, New York City, USA, 2017

Peter was terrified. The alarms blared as he frantically examined the room for any trace of you. But you weren't there. You'd vanished right in front of his eyes. He knelt down and picked up the wand off the floor, which was undamaged despite the heavy impact.

As if on cue, a furious Tony Stark strode into the room, making Peter feel very small. He snatched the wand from the boy's grasp before turning to examine the other items on the table to see whether Peter had also touched them.

“Mr. Stark, I—” Tony interrupted Peter before he could even begin to explain, refusing to listen to the boy's reasons.

“Go to the living room.”

“But–”

“NOW!”

Peter gulped. He obeyed and quickly left the laboratory, not wanting to aggravate the situation. Wanda, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were already assembled when he entered the living room.

“They must have been awakened by the alarm,” he reasoned.

Peter was not a fan of being the center of attention, so with all eyes on him, he only grew more anxious.

“Peter? What happened?” Your sister was the one who approached him first. She expected you to be with him, but she became concerned when she didn't see you standing next to your best friend. “Where is Y/N?”

Everyone noticed how Peter's expression changed when he heard your name, and they realized something was wrong.

“Where is Y/N, Peter?” Wanda tried to maintain a calm voice, but her emotions overpowered her, causing her to waver.

You were the only thing she had left — you were her younger sister, and something was obviously wrong. The boy's silence was only making matters worse.

Peter watched as Wanda began to lose control, her eyes burning crimson and a spark of red smoke escaping from her palms. Fearful, he took a step back.

Steve grabbed Wanda's shoulder and gave her a reprimanding look. He wanted to know where you were as well, but there was a better way to go about it.

“Alright, kid. You mind telling us what the hell happened there?” Tony Stark walked into the room with his arms folded across his chest and a stern expression on his face.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain, 1994

You took a deep breath before entering the Great Hall. No longer dressed in your pajamas but in the Gryffindor uniform issued by Minerva McGonagall.

When the woman had caught you in the corridors, she had noticed something strange about you. And in her office, although you were terrified, she let you speak. When you told her how you got there, she had believed you, much to your surprise.

She and Dumbledore had cautioned you not to use your unusual magic because it could frighten the other students. Nonetheless, with a thrum of your fingers, you conjured a wand, figuring it would come in handy to blend in.

They clearly had no idea how to return you to your universe, but you told them that your friends back home would find a solution, at least you hoped they would. They were the Avengers. And they had Tony Stark. He was a brilliant inventor. A genius, as he liked to call himself. You were sure he had something in the lab that would bring you back home before you knew it.

In the meantime, you had decided to maintain the deception you already told the Golden Trio — you were an Ilvermory exchange student.

Taking a deep breath, you looked around the room, trying to figure out where you were supposed to sit. It felt like the first day of school all over again. You could deal with monsters and aliens, but nothing could compare to trying to navigate the school hierarchy.

You knew each house was allotted a table, but did that mean you could sit next to anyone? What if they called you off? What if they had reserved a seat for a friend?

Fortunately, your overthinking was cut short when your name was called. You scanned the benches until you noticed Hermione Granger waving from a few feet away.

With a relieved sigh, you approached her. "Hi," you smiled as you took a seat next to her. You noticed Ron and Harry on her right, who gave you a wave.

“You got into Gryffindor!”

“Oh,” you said, peering down at your tie, “yeah.” Yet another lie. While you were here, it appeared that this was going to become a habit.

The sorting hat hadn’t assigned you a house, instead Dumbledore let you choose your own house, which you thought was odd. Even though you weren't a true witch in their eyes, and you were just a guest here, you would have thought they would like to follow the rules, for the appearances at least. But you didn’t question it.

Your attention was drawn to someone's obnoxious throat-clearing. When you raised your gaze, you noticed two identical redheads seated across from you on the bench, looking at you expectantly.

You guessed they were Ron’s brothers. Fred and George.

“Who are you?” One of them asked.

“I’m Y/N. I’m an exchange student from Ilvermory,” the lie was not yet smooth on your tongue.

The boy squinted his eyes. “Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” You tried to push more conviction into your voice. After all, it wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to tell this lie, so the sooner you started believing it yourself the better.

He and his brother continued to stare at you shamelessly. It wouldn’t have bothered you under different circumstances, you were used to people staring, but from them it made you uncomfortable. They seemed to be able to see right through you.

“You don’t look American to me.”

“Fred!” Hermione chastised him at the same time you replied, “That’s because I’m not.”

You cursed yourself. You couldn't keep the words from coming out of your mouth. They were all staring at you now, expecting you to explain yourself.

“I moved to America a few years ago, after my brother's death,” you explained. You didn't like talking about Pietro with anybody other than Wanda, but you'd already blown your cover, so you had no choice but to keep going.

You noticed how the mood shifted, and cursed yourself again; the last thing you wanted was for these strangers to feel sorry for you.

“I was born in Sokovia. It’s a small country in Eastern Europe,” you explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That had to be horrible,” Hermione placed a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it. You cracked a small smile at her.

“It's fine. Wanda is still with me.”

You honestly didn't know what you would have done if you had also lost Wanda that day. Your nightmares were still disturbed by the vision of Pietro falling on his knees, ripped full of holes.

“Is that an animal or something?”

You shifted your gaze to Ron.

‘Was he serious?’

“Wanda is my older sister.” Guilt flooded Ron's features.

“Please excuse him; he lacks all tact,” the other twin spoke for the first time since you had been seated at the table. Because Hermione had addressed the other as Fred, this had to be George.

“Is Wanda also here?” Hermione wondered.

‘I wish.’

“No, she isn't. She’s older. She completed her studies many years ago.”

“So you moved to America first, and now to England? Are you running from something?”

George elbowed his brother in the ribs when the older twin voiced the question.

“Are you always this stupid, or are you making a special effort today?” You flung back defensively.

“I’m just saying, your story doesn’t add up.” He raised his hand in surrender.

“Why? Because she needed to relocate twice? Perhaps it's because of her parents' occupation or–” Hermione came to a halt when she noticed you stiffen at the mention of your parents.

You don’t really have any memory of them. You were a baby when that missile hit your apartment, but you didn't like it when people brought them up. It served as a reminder that you didn't have them with you.

Hermione appeared to understand because it was visible when you looked at her; that sad expression.

“It doesn’t matter. I was a baby when it happened.” You looked at Fred, desperate to stop him asking any more questions. “I left Sokovia to start a new life with my sister because our country was at war, not a wizarding war, but a muggle war. Do you understand what that means? Bombs, missiles, people displaced, and children killed. I had to watch my brother bleed to death while he was mercilessly shot while attempting to save the life of a young boy. And if I had left America now, it's because I have every right to. You don't have to like me, but I'd appreciate it if you keep your assumptions to yourself.”

It wasn't technically a lie. The sequence of events was just wrong. You were a baby during the Cold War. You were thankful that you couldn't recall any of it. You, Pietro, and Wanda had to hide for two days for fear that the bomb that had hit your apartment would detonate. And you saw Pietro die as he gave his life for that child when the Ultron Project went to shit.

They were all staring at you, shocked. You may have been a little harsh, but you weren't going to sit there and do nothing while being accused of lying about your family.

As you stood up and walked out, you heard a faint voice say, “Well done, dimwit.” You weren't sure where you were headed because you weren't familiar with the castle, but anywhere would be better than sitting in the suffocating air of the Great Hall.

Avengers Compound, New York City, USA, 2015

It's been a week since you arrived here following the death of Pietro.

It’s been a week since you lost your brother.

It’s been a week since you found yourself in a new country, living among complete strangers.

It’s been a week since you left your room.

Your sister had come and knocked on your door multiple times, and you know it’s selfish of you to shut her out, after all, she had lost her twin brother, but you didn’t have it in you to see anyone now, including her.

You've never been adept at dealing with emotions; you felt like you were constantly being hit by a wave until you couldn't float any longer and drowned.

“Open the door, Y/N,” Wanda’s soft voice came from the other side of the door.

You knew she could have just stepped in if she wanted to. She only had to twitch her fingers for the door to break open. But she didn’t do it. Wanda knew better than that. Especially at this moment.

You ignored her, like you had done for the previous seven days.

“Please, Y/N,” You could hear your sister’s voice waver through the door, “I can’t lose you too.”

Without leaving your bed, you waved your fingers and heard the faint click of the door lock turning.

You heard footsteps approaching you and felt your bed dip a few seconds later.

Your gaze, fixed before on the wall, was now watching your sister. Wanda was sitting at the foot of your bed. It was the first time you had seen her since your arrival to America.

She was pale, her eyes were red – you could tell she'd been crying before coming to see you – she had heavy circles under her eyes, and her hair was unkempt. You hadn't looked in the mirror, but you couldn't appear any better than she did.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. It was a stupid question, she knew, but she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to talk to you after you finally let her in.

“I don’t like it here.”

Wanda sighed, “Me neither.”

You sat up across from her on the bed. “Then why are we here? Why can’t we leave?”

“We have nowhere to go, Y/N.”

That’s when it hit you. You were alone. You didn’t have a home anymore.

“It’s going to be alright. We still have each other.” Wanda assured you. And for the first time in a week, you felt a shred of hope.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain, 1994

“Stupid Fred Weasley,” you muttered. You picked up a stone and hurled it into the lake in front of you. “I knew he was an idiot the moment I read the first book.”

You chose another rock and tossed it more forcefully this time. “He must think he's funny.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm rather amusing.”

You spun around to meet a tall, lanky redhead. You couldn't see it before in the Great Hall, but with the sunlight, you could see the freckles covering his nose and part of his cheeks, which gave an attractive warmth to his features.

“Well, I'm afraid I must inform you that you are incorrect.” You rolled your eyes and shifted your gaze back to the water.

This didn't dissuade the redhead, who instead of walking away stepped closer.

You huffed in annoyance, “What do you want?”

Nobody could deny that Fred Weasley had a way with words. He never stopped talking, but now that he was standing next to you with his hands in his pockets, he seemed a little nervous. It wasn’t the first time his big mouth had gotten him in trouble or his words hurt someone else. He didn't know you, yet he felt horrible that he was the source of your pain.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered so gently that you would have missed it if you weren't standing next to him.

“Come again?” You asked.

He took a deep breath and faced you, “I apologise for my behaviour earlier. I went too far, and I didn't intend to hurt you.”

“Are you always so distrusting of the new people you meet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, so I’m the exception then.”

“Normally, we don't have any exchange students. You're the first one since I started studying here. So I thought that was strange.”

It wasn't the first time you'd been in a similar predicament. In fact, you could argue that your first day of high school in America was worse than this. Girls in high school were far worse than boys with big mouths and a penchant for pranks.

“Did your brother tell you to come apologize to me?”

“What?”

“Did your brother tell you to come apologize to me or are you here because you're really sorry?”

When he didn’t respond, you had your answer.

You chuckled, unamused. “Go back to the castle, Fred.”

“No. Wait, I’m truly sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

“What?” You asked, looking at him in disbelief. “You don’t have to do anything. I don’t give a shit about what you think.”

“But I want to prove that I’m honest.”

His tenacity was far from endearing.

“You really can’t take a no for an answer, can you?”

He shook his head, a stupid smile plastered on his face. You sighed, a small smile growing on your face as an idea to toy with him crossed your mind.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” He asked, perplexed.

Fred hadn’t really thought about what you could ask him to do, but if he had your weird request wasn’t definitely on the list.

“I’m asking to hold your hand, not for you to marry me. You have held a girl’s hand before, right?”

“Of course I have.” He said defensively, like your suggestion was an offense to him.

Your tiny hand wrapped around his large one and looked into his eyes. He seemed tense, and he was looking everywhere but at you.

You found it amusing. You had never expected Fred Weasley to be this nervous around women. You expected a playful comment when you asked him to hold your hand, but instead, you got a startled 16-year-old boy who went rigid the moment your fingers touched.

‘Oh boy, this was a story you’d definitely tell Peter when you got back.’

“You have to look at me,” you explained, “or else it won't work.”

He frowned at your words and landed his gaze on you.

“What won’t work?”

“I’m gonna look into your soul.”

His eyes widened.

“To see if you are honest about being sorry.”

“Are you serious?” He asked you, incredulous.

“Of course I am,” you tried to sound serious and not to laugh at the face he was making. “It’s a gift I have.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Yeah, sure.”

“Do you want me to prove it?”

“Go ahead.”

With his eyes fixed on yours, hands clasped, and your best poker face you started your little revenge.

“So?” he asked, amused, after a few seconds. “Am I being honest?”

You pulled a face at him, “I can’t really tell.”

“Wow, What a surprise.”

“But, I did see something.”

“Really?” he said entertained, “Go on, surprise me.”

“How are things with Mr. Bagman?" you asked with a mischievous grin. "Did you already send that letter?”

The smile on Fred’s face dropped in the blink of an eye.

[maraudersarecanon]

It’s 3rd November 1976. A perfectly ordinary day with a perfectly ordinary breakfast. That is until music suddenly starts blaring through the Great Hall. The muggleborns who recognise the beats look around confused, the purebloods, even more clueless. On “Friday night and the lights go down,” the four Marauders dressed in disco outfits and wearing feather boas prance into the hall and each leaps onto one of the four long tables and begins the carefully choreographed routine. Plates are thrown off the tables and by the final chorus almost everyone is joining in with “You are the dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen!” By the end of the song, all four of the Marauders have made it to the end of their tables and reached their respective heads of houses to give the school the final image of Sirius Black twirling a highly displeased Minerva McGonagall. It’s 3rd November 1976 and it’s far from an ordinary day because it happens to be Sirius Black’s 17th birthday.

[transfemme-floofer]

Mistress brought some friends over for Election Night and myself and Kat were put to work serving her friends. Luckily I know a few wacky recipes for nights like this, Strawberry Creamer, Chocolata-zucchini cake, and the like. Mistress called for me

“Yes Mistress?”

“We’re discussing who we think is going to win, any thoughts”

I wasn’t stupid, I knew that the Northern Empire was unhappy with the south, one study trip to Britannica proved that. The Judean Front (Jewish freedom fighters) was flaring up for the quadrillionth time and allying with Arabia wasn’t helping. But Mistress had also mentioned the Universitas Napoli publishers coming, and they were Romulans (Conservatives) through and through.

“Social Unitas (Centre-Left party), maybe Parti di Populi? (Populist Left party) The Romulans just want to double down on everything”

A voice came from the other room “who was that?”

“Just my serva, Julia”

“Is she Well Educated?”

“Bluestar (Education academy for slaves) graduate”

“That explains it, because she’s absolutely correct”

I murmur, focused on the cakes, eyes down, “thank you miss…”

“Antonia”

“Please remind me, why is that the correct opinion”

“Certainly, dumb slut” I blush as red as cherries

“It’s because, the Romulans are fundamentally broken right now and have divided the empire North and South, with the North feeling ignored and betrayed, while the South doubles, triples and quadruples down, even loyal Francia has been split down the middle”

As if on cue the TV blares out “and we have results for Lutetia (Paris) and the seat goes to Emile Digiorno of the PdP”

Mistress chides me for not having the food and drinks ready before results started, smacking me on the butt and sending me off to serve the plates

I was happy to see my Bluestar professor Madam Maria de la Lancia again, but did not show it until she felt my pussy up my skirt and we bet that if the infamous Fasces Parti (UKIP for Rome) won any seats I would lick her pussy, and she then bet loudly with mistress that if the Romulans won she could mount me with a strap on. I creamed at the thought

The Romulans lost badly but as the Fasces Parti won 5 state seats, 13 constituencies and one imperial seat, I got to lick my old professor’s pussy

At that point I poured out some low alcohol fruit posca I made for the party

One of mistress’s friends from the Vigilium (Imperial State police) grumbled when she suggested I should have some “I thought the courts were clear Miss Presenti, only on Saturnalia”

Mistress spoke “Luna, the imperial court ruling was over regular, strong wine, this is prescribed by a doctor and thus protected by the 2729 ruling, Provera vs Roma, that very low alcohol fruit wines are medically acceptable to use on slaves. Both Julia and Kat, Minerva bless their souls, come from regions where high blood pressure is common”

“Fine, pour it out”

And so we enjoyed the rest of the dinner

Eating and sex and drink and sex

[substantial-gains]

@meep9898

Kairi's morning radar is blaring it's CUTE GIRL ALERT~

The former athlete absolutely loves it when Minerva comes over to her dad's cafe during her early shift!

"Hey Minnie! What can I get for ya today?~"

A tall, overfamiliar, almost 600-pound bluenette waitress greets one of her personal favorite customers-

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Moving Out and Moving On (Drabble)

A/N: This was me figuring out the dynamics of Mickeys relationship with not only Bugs and Daffy but the rest of the Looney Tunes, but it's so tender I couldn't help but want to share with you all.

This might be put into Three Toons and a Baby but I'm not sure yet, so it's a drabble for now,

......................

A heavy drag in of his cigarette, breathe out the smoke and repeat, the smell a comforting memory to the mouse who sat on his front porch, it was a nice summers day a gentle breeze rustling his fur and carrying the cigarette smoke away with it,

But also his ex wife, who stood by the moving van, talking with the movers, she didn't even spare a glance towards him and he found he didn't care, they had both long ago moved on while carrying on the farce of a marriage for a further 20 years before it all had come to a head.

She had left first, packing a few boxes and leaving for Daisys, followed by himself as he found comfort in a pair of toons up in the Hills of LA, both of them leaving a marriage of exactly 50 years and a relationship of 96 years in tatters and nothing could or would repair it. Not this time, not even for their 2 kids,

So much had happened in such a short time it was hard for him to comprehend, but as the door slid shut to the van packed full with her things, Minerva approached him a packet of papers in hand,

"I have signed these, I give up my custody of Marian." His eyes widened, he thought they would share custody of their second youngest, but she was fully letting go turning away from them, he found himself only able to respond with,

"Oh, alright I will hand this over to Justin and his crew. You may need to show up in court to say the same,"

A sharp nod of her head showed her irritation, but understanding did show in her eyes, as she said her final words

"Right, then good luck Michael Mouse I will see you with whatever the company wishes for us to appear in."

He nodded as well, watching the woman turn and head for her car. He put out the cigarette and stood up he had packing to do as well

After all, he had handed the home to the Disney Company, who wished to have it preserved to his changrin as a museum cataloging their relationship and lives, he hated it, but he definitely did not want to be surrounded by the ghosts of his past, not especially when he already had a future waiting, this was the last painful step before he could enjoy it,

As he walked back in he sighed at all the remaining boxes filled with his items, his entire life. Pluto had already been moved up to the other property, he was already so much happier up there with so much room to run and play,

He jumped as a horn blared suddenly, whipping around to head outside once more this time, his breath caught in another way, a more emotional one as his new Partners hopped out of their car alongside their friends,

"Bugs, Daffy!" He embraced both of them, looking for that nosey neighbor Margot, seeing that she was not in her rocker on her front porch, he shared a kiss with the pair,"I thought you had work,"

"Yeah! Here Doc" the rabbit teased making the rest of the Looney Tunes laugh, Porky answering the mouse's confusion,

"B-B-Bugs told us you need need needed help."

"And that yer own crew were too busy with things to assist ya," Yosemite added, making the group nod,

"But I'm Disney," the mouse blurted out of habit, making the Warners laugh, Dot putting a hand on her hip, answering sassily,

"Yeah, you are! But you're also the toon dating our ring leaders, congrats Uncle, you're an honorary Looney Tune,"

At her proclamation, there were nods of agreement. He looked to his partners Bugs, giving him a smile of assurance she was right,

"Kids right, Doc. You may be the biggest Disney, but you're also mine and Dafs loving Partner as for the others, you and yours have become like family to the rest as a result."

That sent a warmth through him as tears appeared, his throat felt thick in a good way as he smiled at each of them,

"Thanks, guys,"

There were various noises of your welcome and of course from the group of Toons,

"Now, what are we standing round here for? Lets get you moved," Lola exclaimed, making them laugh as they converged on the home,

Bugs and Daffy took care of helping their love tape up boxes, while Yosemite and Wil E seemingly did the grunt work of lifting the furniture,

"Does Granny have Marian?" He asked as he lifted a box and walked out with Bugs to place it in the back of the U-haul Lola had brought,

"You betcha Mick, she's enamored with wonder mouse," he chuckled as they set the boxes inside, Mickey snickering with the other,

"Oh that kids given her a new lease," came Sylvesters voice as he sat a box inside the moving truck making their heads turn to him"I have never seen her this active in years,"

That made Mickey smile as they walked back towards the house,

"Good to hear, I'm glad she's been so good for her,"

"Heya Doc what's this?" Bugs came walking out of the kitchen with a book a note taped to the front,

His breath hitched instantly recognizing it, he managed to say,

"That's our Wedding Album," The rabbit wincing,

"Sorry doll, I didn't know" The mouse motioned shaking his head gently, taking it from him,

"Naw your alright Bugsy, honest. Just naturally hurts, this was my life for almost 100 years," he motioned around him to the home,"it feels like this is somehow wrong," he answered as he flipped it open, the first photo of him and Minnie standing at the alter with beaming smiles as she leaned into him, followed by one of them cutting the cake laughing, he sighed closing it, reading the note on the front,

Did not leave behind, can be put into the Museum I don't want it,

Minerva Fieldmouse

He figured that was the case, as Bugs looked at him worriedly, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder, finally the disney toon looked up

"But I don't regret this at all. As time passes, the pain will get better. It will be funny to watch people filter in, and this be on a shelf here," he finally laughed, handing it back to the other who smiled as Buster walked in holding an item in hand,

"Heya Mr Mouse-"

"You can call me Mickey," he interrupted but recognized the frame in hand," Oh, I recognize that, that's another of our Wedding Photos I was wondering where she hid it."

The blue rabbit snickered answering,

"Upstairs hallway table, we were making sure nothing was inside before we moved it to clean before putting it back like Daffy asked,"

The mouse carefully took it, handing it to Bugs,

"Gee, with all these weddin pictures, you're making me half tempted to have a false wedding to replace em!" The rabbit teased as he walked back to the kitchen to set them on the table, the mouse snorted, shooting back playfully

"You have had what 3 weddings? Bugs, I'm starting to think you just enjoy being fawned over,"

"It's actually 2 Mick and that's cause gay marriage was not legal in 1959 and in 2017 Daffy surprised me with wanting to have it be official despite our open status,"

"Cause with you getting run over like roadkill it scared me to the point I knew what I wanted to do," the duck huffed as he marched past with a box,

Both Mickey and Bugs shared a look before smirking, and running to catch up to him, the mouse kissing one side of his beak and Bugs the other catching the toon completely off guard

The lagomorph smoothly pulled the box out of his husband's grip laughing as he darted towards the truck,

"Your both despicable!" He crowed red in the face, but there wasn't true anger behind the ducks eyes just mild playful annoyance at their antics,

It took the group a couple of hours, but suddenly Mickey was staring at a mostly empty house from the front door,

"We will go on ahead and get this up to Burrow Manor," Lola called he turned around nodding calling back,

"Thank you again guys it would've taken me so much longer on my own!"

The Warner Rabbit flashed him a smile,

"Of course Mickey! Wakko no that's an air freshener-" The window was rolled up as he assumed she grabbed for the troublesome child,

Suddenly it was just him standing there, to his surprise a car drove up and he smiled softly as Eleanor got out and walked up the pathway,

" I'm sorry I couldn't come help you. That commercial shoot was brutal," She apologized as they embraced one another,

"No its alright sweet mouse, you had work like Goofys watching Max and Yakkos kids while their overseas and Uncle Donald's down in Rio for their annual trip across the continent. It's life it happens, besides your mother was here and I know your unhappy with her,"

Sure enough his daughter's eyes had narrowed at the mention of her mother,

"She's abandoned our family to move on. According to Aunt Daisy she's even blocked yours and my numbers and accounts. I know she has to heal but thats way to far and she's also cut out Marian. She's a baby!" He reached over and rubbed her arm in comfort, saying with honesty,

"I know, sweetheart, your mom's always had a habit of overreacting to any situation. It's just a part of her personality. Eventually, she will most likely try to show up and act like it's all fine. We just have to decide how we will handle it when that day comes,"

He squeaked in surprise, but smiled as he was hugged again, Eleanor burying her face into his neck,

"I'm glad your back daddy, I don't know how I would be able to deal with the loss of both my parents," She murmured, tears brimmed in her eyes, making his heart break at the confession, he cupped the back of her head to draw his daughter closer,

"And I'm never leaving you or Marian ever again,"

"And we will give him a swift kick in the ass if he eva tries again," turning to see Bugs standing there with a teasing, but genuine smile on his face, Daffy beside nodding,

That made the woman laugh as she let go wiping her eyes,

"And you two are the reason I'm not as worried that he will try it again." She finally fully perked up walking in"Man is it so weird to have this place almost empty,"

She walked through, tears pricking at her eyes as she touched the staircase banister,

"I remember sliding down this so much,"

"And I would get after you" She heard her dad laugh before she joined in looking into the living room, Mickey stood in the middle kneeling down he brushed his hand to the floor

"This was where you first walked," he stood up pointing where the armchair sat,"I was reading the newspaper, your Mother was out shopping and had left you home, I saw you stand like you'd done a million times, but I put it down and watched you as you suddenly let go, damn near gave me a heart attack,"He heard Eleanor laugh Bugs and Daffy joining in"But you made it to me and I was so proud and excited, Minerva actually didn't believe me until you gave her a heart attack in the kitchen where you tried jumping into the oven,"

That made Bugs and Daffy wheeze with laughter as Eleanor who'd heard the story a million times shook her head,

"I still say it was the warmth," making her Dad smile,

They watched as she exited the Living space and walked to the kitchen doorframe and brushed a hand on weird notches in the door,

"Heh, you never got rid of this," she murmured as the mouse shook his head,

"No, I never did."

The duck cocked his head in confusion,

"What is it?"

She pointed to the lowest, with a smile

"This was when I was a year old and then the next one when I was 2."

The rabbit smiled, saying smartly,

"That's adorable an precious it shows your growth" making her nod

"Yeah, until I was 15," she brushed a paw against the last mark,

"Stand next to it kid," She looked confused to the Rabbit but did so as he walked over and carefully notched where she came up to now and wrote

Eleanor Mouse 2023, Moving Day

"There, one last notch to make it complete," he smiled, she instantly embraced the rabbit,

"It's a perfect goodbye and closing this chapter,"

Mickey slowly walked up touching the last notch, murmuring

"And a beautiful way to open the newest chapter." making them turn towards him, all three hugging each other before turning towards the front door, Bugs and Daffy exiting first as Eleanor took her father's hand and together they stepped out onto the porch,

Mickey turned to close the door, brushing a hand against it, saying a silent thank you before locking it, getting choked up as he walked down the steps, they each got into their respective vehicles, he pulled out only pausing a moment before putting the old Mercedes into drive and watching the house disappear behind him for one last time.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Other Evans Girl [Part Seven]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 2758

Rating: Teen

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Friends, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marauder’s Era, Teenage Angst, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Crying, Loss of Virginity, First Wizarding War, Love, Kissing, Teenagers, James Potter is a bit of a dick, Hogsmeade, 1970s, Fighting, Loss of Parents, Grief, Babies, Injuries, Gore, Harm, Christmas,  The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Summer 1975

‘Daisy hurry up!’ Lily yelled from where she was waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs, unable to tell if she had actually heard her given that the radio was still blaring from their room. As she checked her watch again she grumbled. She hated her sister sometimes, well, not her sister but the differences between them. Whilst Lily was always prompt and on time Daisy could never seem to get herself together until the last moment something she could hear her sister doing now, rattling around her room as she tried to get herself ready to leave. As she heard the radio shut off Lily glanced at her watch once more as if it was somehow going to be earlier than it had been a second ago. They were supposed to be down at the meeting place in two minutes and it was at least a ten-minute walk, she could see the look on Severus’s face now.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ Daisy said as she came bounding down the stairs pausing as she reached the bottom of them and looking at Lily who hadn’t moved to leave yet despite them being late. ‘What?’ she said curiously, watching as Lily’s eyes roved over her attire. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, one that looked tighter than it was meant to be given that she had knotted against her stomach, ever so stylishly. Her blond locks flowed in waves and her subtle makeup was covered by red heart-shaped shades that took up half her face. ‘Nothing,’ Lily shrugged, as she moved towards the door, suddenly feeling the need to analyse her own outfit of brown cords and a flowy white shirt. Neither of them was dressed up fancy, they didn’t need to be after all they were only meeting Severus and going for a walk by the canal, something they had done a thousand times, yet Lily felt her outfit was lacking somehow.

See, over the summer Daisy had seemed to flourish. Whilst she had spent the past couple of years tucked away in the common room or library hiding from whatever gossip was being flung around about her (thanks to James and his cronies) now she seemed confident and happy. She had taken style tips from Marlene which she used to accentuate her wardrobe, ditching the boyish clothes for garments more chic and stylish. She had also changed physically. She was a little taller now, only a couple of inches shorter than Lily, and her physique had become more womanly. These changes had definitely taken hold of her and spurred her on with confidence. And though Lily was thankful for it she couldn’t deny it made her feel a little inferior.

‘Come on then,’ Daisy said, bouncing past her and out into the garden. Lily followed quickly opting to forget her insecurities as there was no way she’d have chance to go in and change anyway given how late they were. Yet as they made it up the garden path they were slowed further as a car pulled up onto the curb outside their house, Petunia emerging from it a second later followed quickly by her plump, ruddy-faced boyfriend. Lily sighed internally, cursing not only one sister but two for making her late, but nevertheless she stopped, not wanting to be rude as she said, ‘Hi Tuney.’ ‘Hello Lily, Daisy,’ Petunia greeted, ‘are mummy and daddy home?’ ‘Yeah they’re outside in the garden,’ Lily said glancing at Daisy who had been stood there silently evidently not as pressed with manners as her counterpart. Well at least she didn’t seem to be until she greeted, ‘Tuney, Vermin.’ ‘It’s Vernon,’ the man said gruffly which made Petunia’s neck turn purple and a smile come to Daisy’s face. Lily elbowed her sister in the ribs. ‘Don’t be rude,’ she said in a whisper praying Petunia wouldn’t take the mocking too badly considering they didn’t have time for an argument. ‘She knows very well what it is,’ her sister sneered, ‘she just thinks she is funny.’ ‘I don’t think I know,’ Daisy countered. ‘Well I agree with the first bit,’ Lily said earning herself an elbow in return. ‘Anyway,’ Petunia said with a smug smile, ‘nothing will annoy me today.’ ‘Wanna bet? I’m happy to stick around and disprove that,’ Daisy said though her words were overlapped by Lily who was trying to diffuse the tension by asking, ‘whys that?’

Petunia said nothing and instead stuck a bony hand out in front of her sister’s nose. Thereupon her long, spindly finger was a ring. A simple gold band with a substantial diamond cemented in the middle. Daisy wanted to vomit at the smugness plastered all over her sister’s face and even more, as her fiancé came up to her side and kissed her gruffly on the cheek.

‘Lovely,’ Lily said, ‘congratulations.’ ‘Thank you,’ Vernon said. ‘Yeah, congratulations you two. I mean wow a wedding! What’s next? A house? A baby? How magic,’ Daisy said her voice dripping in sarcasm. The purple tinge on Petunia’s neck was now gone. In fact, all the colour had now gone from her complexion. While the twins had been away at school Petunia had done quite a swell job convincing her new beau that her family was quite normal. However, since they had returned for the summer she had been mortified at him finding anything out and thus had tried to keep Vernon as far away from their home as possible. The twins hadn’t minded this as it meant they were unbothered by the older sister most of the time but when she was home their lives were intolerable. Lily dealt with it by getting out of the house often with Daisy in tow but her younger sister had used her newfound confidence to tease her sister mercilessly. ‘We think so,’ Vernon said with a smile not picking up on the hint Daisy had left hanging in the air. ‘Yes, let’s get inside snookums,’ Petunia said ignoring her sister’s giggles, ‘I can’t wait to tell mummy and daddy the news.’

And with that, she strode off with Vernon bumbling behind her leaving the twins in her wake trying to stifle their laughter. Once they were completely out of sight the twins started walking down the road towards town where no doubt Severus would be waiting for them with a good bout of reprimanding lined up though admittedly it would probably only be Daisy who received it. Neither of them seemed to be focused on that though, no, as they walked silently down to the village, the only sound to be heard was the crunching of gravel underfoot it seemed that there was only one thing on their mind.

‘I can’t believe she’s getting married,’ Daisy said as they got out of their neighbourhood, joining the main road towards the village. ‘Why not?’ Lily replied looking towards her twin whose face fell into one of disbelief at her reply. ‘She’s seventeen! Not to mention he’s horrible and she’s determined for him not to know about our ‘affliction’,’ Daisy said with derision. Lily paused for a moment before she responded. ‘Well, loads of people get married straight out of Hogwarts so she’s not that mad,’ Lily said. ‘Mad to marry him though,’ Daisy wagered. Lily hid a small smile. ‘Yeah, you’ve got me there,’ she conceded. Again the conversation lulled, both of them thinking about the prospects of marriage, both of them shuddering at the idea of marriage to Vernon Dursley. Yet as Daisy thought something about her sister’s words niggled at her and she found herself saying, ‘so… you’re planning to get married straight out of school huh?’

She glanced at Lily who had a pink tinge on her cheeks at the question. They were nearing the high street now and Severus was in view now though his back was to them which meant he wouldn’t know if they slowed down and this conversation had intrigued her enough to want to. As she slowed Lily did too.

‘Sev’s waiting,’ she pressed, motioning her to keep moving and when she didn’t she sighed and said, ‘what?’ ‘Answer the question,’ Daisy said. ‘What question?’ Lily said her gaze darting down the lane, watching Severus as he glanced at his watch. ‘Are you going to get married straight out of school?’ Daisy said. ‘I don’t know,’ Lily said exasperatedly, ‘I mean I don’t even have a boyfriend.’ ‘But if you did?’ Daisy asked. ‘I don’t know maybe. Look I wasn’t saying I want to get married at seventeen I’m just saying it’s not that mental I suppose. I mean I guess when you find that person what does it matter when you get married right? At seventeen or bloody seventy,’ Lily said. Daisy allowed her words to marinate for a moment before she slung her arm over her sister’s shoulder and said, ‘aw you big softy.’ ‘Oh shut it you,’ Lily said with a smile, happy to accept the teasing so long as it made her sister’s feet move. ‘You’re just gonna up and leave me to it?’ she goaded. ‘Like you’d survive without me,’ Lily said, ‘if anything I’ll need the extra support to put up with you.’ ‘Charming,’ Daisy giggled, ‘don’t worry I’m sure Sev will love putting up with me as a sister-in-law!’ ‘Don’t be mean,’ Lily said, dropping her voice as Severus was nearly in earshot, ‘Sev and I are just friends you know that.’ ‘Not through lack of trying,’ her sister snorted. ‘Well, he can try all he wants, thank you very much,’ she said, and before Daisy could tease her any more she strode ahead making it to Severus and greeting him before Daisy could catch up and by the time Daisy reached them, he had already broken into his tirade about their tardiness though Lily was able to calm him as she explained the reason they were late was Petunia’s announcement.

That revelation seemed to dispel whatever irritation had mounted during in his waiting and it carried the conversation for a good while as they walked through the village and down to the canal before eventually looping back towards the high street. However once it had been fully dissected from every angle the talk devolved into preparing to head back to school.

‘At least this year we get to learn about curses,’ Severus said as they turned back onto the street. ‘Sev you know I don’t like it when you talk about nasty things like that,’ Lily chastised. Severus’ pallid skin reddened for a moment. ‘Well it’s true,’ Severus said, ‘maybe if we got taught proper hexes people would think twice about attacking others in the corridor.’ ‘Well I don’t think anyone should be attacking anyone,’ Lily said dismissively. ‘Doesn’t stop them,’ Severus grumbled, a comment that he seemed to intend to be unheard yet Daisy caught it, their eyes meeting as she looked at him sadly. He looked away quickly after that which made the pity she had been feeling for him grow tenfold. It was an odd feeling. When they were younger she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just stick up for himself, why he let Potter and his cronies walk all over him, but that was because she had been blinded by Potter’s charm. Once that illusion had been broken she’d found herself bonding with Severus over a mutual hatred. Of course he still irritated her and she didn’t have the same affection for him that Lily did but they had grown closer over the last year or so. And so when he voiced sentences like that she couldn’t help but feel her heart strings tug. Lily’s would’ve too no doubt if she had been paying attention but she seemed to be in her own world, looking into the store window beside her.

‘Oh my god!’ she shrieked moving closer to the window Daisy now noticed was a book shop. ‘Jesus Lil,’ Daisy said as an old woman walking her dog tutted as she passed. ‘What?’ Severus asked but Lily wasn’t listening to them as she had her face almost pressed up against the window. ‘They’ve got a new book I’ve been dying to read!’ Lily said excitedly. ‘Don’t you have enough books?’ Daisy sighed. ‘You never have enough books! Besides, I saw a review of this in the paper and it’s great apparently! Even you might like it, Dais,’ she said pointing to a book that had its own display in the window. In the midst of several others was a shiny covered book with the title ‘The Worst Witch’. Daisy and Severus smirked at one another. ‘Are you coming in?’ Lily asked, looking towards her sister. ‘No, thanks,’ Daisy said with a shrug. Lily looked at Severus. ‘You know I don’t like muggle books,’ he said. ‘Suit yourselves,’ Lily said as she quickly darted inside the shop. Once she was inside Daisy and Severus watched the door she had disappeared through for a moment before Daisy cleared her throat and said, ‘come on. She’ll be in there for ages let’s have a sit-down.’

Before Severus could argue she strutted away from him and across the street to the empty bus stop that was opposite them. Fortunately there was no one waiting and given that the buses only tended to come through their sleepy little village once an hour it was unlikely they’d be disturbed so both of them took a seat on the sun-warmed metal bench. They sat in silence for a moment, both of them watching Lily through the window of the shop opposite as she scanned every shelf excitedly and the pile of books started growing higher under her arm, until finally Severus asked, ‘so are you all packed for school yet?’ ‘No way,’ Daisy chuckled. ‘Yeah me either,’ he mused, ‘I bet Lily’s packed though.’ ‘For over a week,’ she grinned. ‘She’s always prepared that one,’ he chuckled, ‘you feeling alright about going back?’ ‘Yeah, course you?’ she replied not realising how he might not have the same excitement she had until she watched him drop his gaze to his shoes, offering her a mere shrug in response. ‘S’pose,’ he said eventually. ‘Maybe this year will be better,’ she reasoned, offering him a small smile as he looked up at her. ‘Of course, you say that. I mean you’re all,’ he said gesturing vaguely in her direction. ‘What?’ Daisy said looking down at her own body as if there was going to be a neon sign pointing out what he was getting at. ‘Nothing bad it’s just you’re different. More confident. Fitter,’ he said making Daisy blush. Severus seemed to realise what his words meant and he continued hurriedly over the awkwardness of it, muttering, ‘it’s just… you’re hardly going to struggle this year. I bet even Potter will be tripping over himself to get you back on side.’ ‘Shame I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. Besides just because I’m a little different now doesn’t mean that all my problems will go away…I’ve just decided I’m going to worry about them a little less,’ she said. ‘Hard not to care when you’re being hexed to dangle from one of the Quidditch Hoops overnight,’ he sneered. Daisy’s face fell into a scowl as she remembered the event. Though Severus had explained what happened there was no proof and Potter and his gang had gotten away with it. It was diabolical but she couldn’t blame the teachers she supposed, their hands were tied. At that thought an idea popped into her head. The teachers could only act when they had concrete proof something bad had happened, maybe they just needed help securing the proof.

‘Well maybe we make sure they’re different this year too,’ Daisy said with a cunning smile. ‘Oh yeah? How do you propose we do that?’ he said bitterly. ‘We care a little less and we make sure that Potter and his friends don’t bother us at all,’ she said. ‘The only way they’ll do that is if they’re not in school and I don’t see how-’ Severus said, going quiet mid-sentence before his face broke into a smile. ‘They can’t ruin Hogwarts if they don’t go there anymore,’ Daisy said with a smile. ‘Sorry about the time,’ Lily said pulling them out of their conversation as she landed on the curb in front of them, a carrier bag now in hand. As she looked between them she sensed she had missed something and so asked, ‘what have I missed?’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirl @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[jackjolene]

BioShock/Sinking City/Vampyr: Church of the Son of Ryan

Soundtrack for Jack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av9bQKkndLE

"Operation Trident" is Eleanor's nickname for Jack and Co.'s plan, as it consisted of three prongs: Herself and Porter, Jack and Artemis, and the Elizabeths. Considering that they were in the realm of Poseidon, who is often depicted as wielding a trident, the others found it fitting.

Jack and Artemis begin their search for the Church of the Son of Ryan. As the largest fragment of the former Rapture Family, their numbers could help tip the balance against Orrin Lutwidge and the Diamond Partners. Jack reflects that it would be nice to have the advantage in numbers for once.

According to Eleanor, the Rapture Family had a few paintings of Jack during his first time in Rapture up on the walls In Siren Alley, and Simon Wales seems to have believed Jack to be literally God. With Eleanor gone and Sofia Lamb dead, the Church have latched onto this idea or some variation of it for their new belief system.

From what the survivors in Minerva's Den tell them about the Church, they are obsessed with taking back certain areas of Rapture back from the Mutants. These locations are the places that Jack visited when he was in Rapture the first time: The Welcome Center, the Medical Pavilion, Port Neptune, Arcadia and the Farmer's Market, Fort Frolic, Hephaestus, Olympus Heights, Apollo Square, and Point Prometheus.

From what they've already seen, they have yet to take back the Welcome Center and the Medical Pavilion. Jack and Co. took down the Mutant population in Hephaestus themselves, and Lutwidge is currently occupying Arcadia. That leaves Port Neptune, Fort Frolic, Olympus Heights, Apollo Square, and Point Prometheus as the most likely spots to find them.

As they were Rapture's biggest residential areas, Apollo Square and Olympus Heights are Jack and Artemis' first stop, only to find that they are absolutely crawling with Mutants. Jack and Artemis get cut off from their entry point and are forced to take shelter in Tenenbaum's old safehouse.

Jack reminisces about the times after he had defeated Fontaine and brought back Elizabeth, when they were planning on escaping Rapture for the first time. After gathering their strength back, Jack and Artemis make a break for it and manage to escape the Heights.

Next up is Fort Frolic. Jack doubts that anyone would want to live where Sander Cohen got up to his "artistic" antics, but beggars can't be choosers in Rapture. What they find there, however, is worse than what he imagined.

There's even more "art" in Fort Frolic now; dozens of bodies posed in grotesque and unnatural forms. They aren't even covered in plaster anymore; some have had their skin removed, others have been disembowled, and the most recent ones are nothing but skeletons. Artworks depicting horrendous scenes and terrible acts cover the walls, painting a picture of absolute madness and insanity. The PA alternates between blaring maddening music and insane rambling in a familiar voice.

At first, Jack thinks that someone, a copy-cat, has taken over Sander Cohen's identity and continued his "work", but with each audio diary he and Artemis find, the horrible truth begins to emerge.

In the Atrium of Fort Frolic, they finally come face to face with the man behind the curtain. Jack killed him in his apartment after accidentally interrupting a splicer couple dancing, yet he stands at the top of the staircase: Sander fucking Cohen, in the flesh.

He looks like a cross between a Brute Splicer and a Spider-Splicer, bulked up grotesquely but with long, spidery limbs, fingers tipped with wicked, long claws. Somehow, he's figured out how to give himself a pair of rabbit ears, though they look more like a pair of sticks of flesh poking out of his head. A rabbit mask is strapped to his face, barely covering it. One eye has multiple irises and pupils, while the iris in the other has practically melted into the sclera.

And worst of all, he recognizes Jack.

"Little Moth!" he roars through a maw of sharp, rotten, and broken teeth, "you will be my final masterpiece!"

The fight that follows is furious. Jack has his newly-upgraded plasmids, his modified Big Daddy suit, and his guns, but without Artemis to back him up, he'd be dead. Cohen has his old Houdini powers, Alpha Series-level plasmids, absolutely no self-preservation instincts, no morality to hold him back, and one hell of a grudge.

The "art" around them is destroyed as the fight progresses, which only makes Cohen madder. Jack and Artemis are able to use this to their advantage, tearing art to make Cohen predictably attack and counter-attacking.

Finally, Cohen goes down, and they move in to finish the job, once and for all. However, he convulses violently, laughing insanely as his skin breaks, his bones crack, and his body expands. Right before Jack and Artemis' eyes, Cohen mutates, having apparently gotten his hands on Alex the Great's corrupted ADAM.

In seconds, Jack and Artemis stare up at Cohen as he roars at them. Cohen's Mutant form looks like a gigantic rabbit with bad mange, a maw of razor-sharp teeth with two huge buck teeth like swords, bulging multi-jointed legs, oversized claws on the front paws, and a cluster of multiple, beady, multi-colored eyes on its face instead of just two. The ears are tattered, sporting claws growing out of them, and are prehensile, moving like a third set of limbs.

The second stage of the fight is different from the first. Cohen's Mutant Rabbit form can't teleport, but he can breath fire and electricity and spit ice. When he hops, he comes down like a freight train, shaking Fort Frolic. When he roars, the sound can stun them the closer they are. And his telekinesis still works, using his ears to focus instead of his hands.

The good news is that with his new size, Cohen is very hard to miss with either guns or plasmids. Little by little, Jack and Artemis wear him down, one distracting him and allowing the other to attack.

Cohen finally succumbs to his wounds and falls, twitching and shrieking in pain, before going still. Jack and Artemis stare down at his body, then at each other, and then they burn Cohen's body until it's nothing but ash and bones. They leave Fort Frolic without any fanfare.

With Point Prometheus and Port Neptune left, they decide to try the Point next. If the Church is seeing the places where Jack visited as holy sites, then the place where he killed Frank Fontaine is the next best place to find them.

"If we find that Fontaine has come back from the dead too," Jack grouses as they board the bathysphere, "I swear there'll be nothing left of him when we're done."

When they arrive at Point Prometheus, they find the place cleared of Mutants, though it wasn't pretty; there are blood stains and dead Mutants everywhere, though no Church members.

That changes abruptly when Jack and Artemis are going through the Proving Grounds; they are ambushed by the Church. Not wanting to kill potential recruits for their fight against Lutwidge and the Mutants, Jack and Artemis find themselves cornered.

Just as they're about to be overrun, Jack remembers something that Eleanor told them from Delta's memories: The paintings in Siren Alley included Jack's arrival at the Rapture Lighthouse, his fight with Dr. Steinman, and the first time he used ADAM to splice. In the latter, the chain tattoos on his wrists are visible, making them part of his mythos.

Without hesitation, Jack tears off the gloves of his suit off along with his helmet and runs out from cover, holding his arms up so the attacking Church members can see them and yelling that he is the Son of Ryan.

A few bullets strike his suit before they realize what they're seeing. As Jack's words and the sight of his tattoos sink in, they stare in shock before throwing down their weapons and bowing low before Jack, crying out for forgiveness.

Jack forgives them, of course, and asks to be brought before the Church and its congregation. They're all too eager to bring him forward, beyond happy that their messiah has come at last. Artemis follows behind them.

They bring Jack and Artemis to top of Point Prometheus, where Jack fought and killed Frank Fontaine. The Church has converted their battleground into a shrine, putting up makeshift pews and more paintings on the walls. They took Fontaine's body and put it up on the operating table where he went to heal and splice up during the fight; he's been strung up like he's being crucified for his sins.

Jack is a bit put-off by the display, but he can't help but admit to himself that it's kind of fitting.

As the congregation assembles, the leader of the Church, a young man by the name of Billy Parson, offers the pulpit (which stands in front of Fontaine's crucified body) to Jack, who takes it. Artemis chooses to stand off to his right side.

Jack introduces himself and tells the Church of the Son of Ryan that yes, he is there to save them, which causes them to start cheering and applauding. After they calm down, Jack tells them that their salvation is two-fold. One, he intends on curing them of their ADAM sickness, and two, he's going to evacuate them from Rapture and return to the surface.

This spawns even more applause and celebration. Jack then tells them he is planning on doing this for everyone in Rapture, and that he needs Arcadia and its air filtration systems in order to do so. This brings up doubt for some of the congregation; why save those who don't believe in Jack, especially when it means facing off against the Diamond Partners? And can Jack even cure ADAM sickness?

The true believers of the Church begin getting angry with the doubters. Wishing to avoid a fight, Jack asks for a volunteer. Billy, being the leader of the Church, volunteers immediately, kneeling in front of Jack.

Jack reaches down and puts a hand on Billy's shoulder. Unseen to the rest of the congregation, a needle extends out of Jack's gauntlet (a la Assassin's Creed, and inspired by Eleanor's Big Sister needle) and jabs Billy, injected him with a dose of SERPENT.

Before the eyes of the congregation, Billy's mild case of ADAM sickness begins to reverse itself. The tumors and growths on his exposed flesh shrink and disappear like a time-lapse video in reverse. In mere seconds, Billy Parson is completely cured of his ADAM sickness, and from the congregation's POV, Jack just touched Billy and cured him.

Jack tells them that he is a savior for all of Rapture, not just them. As the son of Andrew Ryan, he sees it as his responsibility to fix as much of his father's mistake as he can. But he needs their help to do so; can he count on them?

Billy's voice, undistorted by damage to his voicebox, is the first to say yes, quickly followed by the rest of the Church. After confirming that the Church does have Port Neptune under their control, Jack asks Billy to begin having his people rally there while he rendezvouses with his allies in Minerva's Den to finalize their plan.

Jack can't help but smile as he and Artemis board a sphere to the cheers of the Church of the Son of Ryan. Their part in Operation Trident is a success.

[whumpapalooza]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

(Space Interns Masterpost)

(Part 1)

“Guys, they came here! They’re armed! They’re –“

Glen’s voice cut off. His line went dead.

Blare opened her line. “Glen, are you there?” she demanded. No answer. “Glen, respond!”

They waited. Nothing but silence answered. Blare exchanged a look with Slipper; she heard a low growl in the physician’s throat.

“We need to get back over there,” Tabby said.

“How?” Brando countered. “Do you know anything about how this craft works?”

Then a voice came from their speaker. “Crew of Aegis, this is Seraph helmswoman Jede.”

Blare opened the line. “Where’s Glen?” she growled.

“Relax, Aegis, he’s fine,” said Jede.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Tabby snarled from behind Blare. Brando nodded agreement.

Blare opened the line. “You’re lying,” she said.

“Maybe,” Jede said smugly. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you want?” Blare asked.

“We’ve already got it: an engineer.”

Blare frowned. “Why ours?” she asked. “Why not one of your own?”

Jede didn’t answer right away. “Check the brig,” she said eventually. “You’ll get all the answers you need there.”

From the sound of Tabby’s scoff, she didn’t like that answer. Blare opened the line and said, “We’re not going anywhere until we talk to Glen, first.”

"You’re aboard a UCD. I suggest you do what you’re told instead of pressing your luck.” Then the line went dead.

Blare opened the line. “Jede,” she said. There was no reply. She pursed her lips. She looked at Slipper, whose tail was flicking back and forth.

“What do we do?” Brando asked from behind them.

Blare had the same question. But she knew it was her job, as helmswoman, to answer it. She opened their line again. “Glen,” she said, “hang tight. We’re going to fix this.” Then she closed the line, turned to her crew, and said, “Let’s head for the brig.”

“You know where that is?” Tabby asked.

“Yes,” Blare said, leading the way. “This is a five-floor craft. It’s one floor above us.”

The others followed Blare out of the tractor beam bay, and they emerged into the dimly lit hall. The only lights were the red strips running along the baseboard. Blare walked to the rounded staircase at the windows and headed up.

As they ascended the staircase, Blare couldn’t help but cast a glance out the window. She could see Aegis. Her heart clenched.

On the next floor, she led them towards the center. The brig door was stuck open halfway.

“I smell blood,” Slipper said.

The hairs on the back of Blare’s neck raised. She swallowed. Then she stepped through the parted doors.

It was a round room with ten beds. Though there were no visible walls, the low hum of electricity told Blare that one of the forcefields was activated.

“Aegis…I’m guessing?”

They all jumped and turned sharply at the voice. Blare’s heart was pounding in her throat as she peered through the gloom. There was someone lying in bed in one of the cells.

He wore the same uniform boots and pants as they did, but he’d removed his shirt. His side was bandaged, but the bandages were soaked. Blood dropped from the bed onto a pool on the floor. He had a bruise over the half of his face that they could see.

Slipper’s frills spread. No doubt the physician’s instinct was to rush to the injured man’s side.

Blare held a hand out to bar Slipper from moving. It might be a trap. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Engo.” The man’s voice was hoarse.

“The blood’s his own,” Slipper whispered to Blare. “I can sense his vitals. He is no threat.”

Blare furrowed her brow. She lowered her hand and Slipper hurried to the forcefield. Blare, Tabby, and Brando followed closely. Blare saw that the panel was already unlocked and hit the key to shut off power. The humming electricity stopped, and Slipper rushed to Engo’s side.

Slipper muttered to himself as he started to peel back bandages. Then he raised his voice. “How did this happen?” he asked.

“Bit by a…star dog,” Engo rasped.

Slipper curled his lip. “You’re lying,” he said. “I smell burned flesh.”

Blare’s stomach rolled. She swallowed back her disgust and forced out an even voice. “You lie as easily as your helmswoman,” she said. Engo’s face relaxed, like the thought comforted him. “Jede said that we’d find our answers here. Well? What’s going on?”

Engo opened his glassy eyes and met Blare’s gaze. He spoke in slow exhales. “Half of our crew is dead.”

Blare heard Brando give a slight gasp. She felt like her blood had iced over.

“You can go ahead and…check the Med Bay,” Engo continued. He licked his dry lips. “Because they’re all there. What’s…what’s left of them, anyway.”

“You’re lying,” Blare said. It had to be another lie - but she didn’t like how sincerely Engo had spoken.

“Go ahead…check,” Engo suggested.

“Blare,” said Tabby. “I’ll go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Brando offered.

“No,” Tabby insisted. “Only one person needs to see it. I can do it.”

Blare closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Stay on comm the whole time, though.”

Tabby tapped her chest and opened the comm line. “You’ve got it,” she said, her voice echoing both in the brig and in Blare’s head. “Where is it?”

“Next floor up,” Blare said. Tabby nodded and left the brig.

Engo rested his head back on his pillow. A tear rolled down his bruised face. Minutes passed. Slipper cleaned and dressed the wound in silence.

And finally, they heard Tabby’s voice in their heads.

“Blare, I’m at the Med Bay,” she said softly. “It’s not a lie.”

[scumbag-the-hedgehog]

@synnrrgy asked: minerva hovers over scourge for a brief second. her tall frame looms over the hedgehog, her hands outstretched and her chest pressing against his quills— good thing that they were soft, right? those same hands were lingering over his as he held onto his guitar. she was intending to fix the way he placed his fingers over the frets. they were a little sloppy. ❛ here, ❜ she hums softly a melody in her head, her headphones blaring rather loudly in her ears. ❛ gotta hold them like this, mmkay? ❜ the mongoose's face brushes up against his, placing a small smooch on his forehead as she withdraws and sways down the hallway.

Scourge had been going over the chords with a look of intense frustration on his face. Perpetually dissatisfied with what little progress he'd seemed to have made. He used to be good at this, why the fuck could he not figure this shit out anymore? This is stupid, he should just-

That particular thought pattern is interrupted as he feels Minerva approach from behind. Heat suddenly flooding his cheeks, his fingers are guided to their proper positions on the frets as he stands there dumbfounded. This is only intensified all the more when the mongoose concludes with the kiss and leaves the usurper behind a flustered mess.

...right. Time to practice for another hour. Or two, maybe.

[andejoe]

Three humans on working on the same ship was mildly concerning for most species. More than ten was rare unless you had a good pack bond. So the ship which had at minimum 90% human crew felt like a death sentence to Mhuun.

She was assigned here because of her research into human interactions back in her schooling days. She’d published several articles about how they interact with each other and the galaxy around them. That didn’t mean she wanted to be on a ship full of them.

Mhuun had said nothing when she found out her assignment. It would have been out of her place to go against the directors. Which is why she was here now, desiderate for help, frozen in fear, as the emergency alarm she pulled blared overhead.

The first human to show up worked nearby in the engineering department. He had the common sense to not approach the six legged beast in front of her.

“Moon, don’t move. You’re gonna be fine, just stay calm,” Sayf assured her.

Fine? Staring down at the creature known for its excellent senses and unrelenting pursuance of its prey, she did not feel fine.

“Armando Cirillo to Corridor 58 please,” Sayd said into the ship wide comm system.

Mhuun wished she could blend into her surroundings, but her sister got that gene, not her. She wished Sayd would do something to save her, but also didn’t want him to leave.

Thankfully, Armando arrived quickly.

“Min min! There you are!” Armando sounded relieved.

The beast turned to face Armando. It hissed at him. Mhuun felt faint.

“Now Minerva, that’s not how we talk to people.” Armando scolded the creature, and stepped forward. “If you come with me now, we can go get you some dinner.”

Minerva leapt at Armando. Mhuun thought Armando was going to die, but Minerva settled into his arms, wrapping their split tails around his forearm.

“Sorry about that Mhuun. I was running late to get Min min here her dinner. She got out of my room. I promise it won’t happen again,” Armando apologized.

Now that the beast was semi secured, Mhuun relaxed. When she relaxed, she remembered that humans have a desire to pack bond with deadly creatures and she had never quite understood why. She could hardly pass up the opportunity to expand her research. Maybe if she published a paper or two on the subject, she could get transferred off this deathship.

“You can’t keep letting your pets get out man. You know it freaks people out. Remember Safira’s panic attack when your weird spider thing got out?” Sayd reminded him.

“How could I forget? I mourned the loss of Bones for a week,” Armando replied.

“Armando, would be willing to speak to me about your desire for these ‘pets’?” Mhuun glanced at Minerva. “After putting that one away of course.”

“Uh, sure. I guess. You’re not freaked out?” Armando asked.

“Terrified, but it’s a well documented fact that humans bond with deadly things. I trust you can control it, so long as you keep all your ‘pets’ far away from me,” Mhuun answered.

“Ok, then yeah. Let me go feed Min min and I’ll meet you at the rec hall to talk,” Armando agreed.

Maybe there was hope for Mhuun after all.

[the-dream-team]

This is the cutest idea!! Thanks for the tag @mppmaraudergirl <3

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some people to take part.

1. Lily Evans supposes the Great Hall’s ceiling looks like the sky because of the owls.

2. Hm. She’s cute.

3. “Could I get everybody’s attention?"

4. Greater philosophers than Lily Evans had spent years pondering what constitutes The Self.

5. “Oi, Evans, watch where you point those shears, why don’t you?”

6. The biggest lie told to children: that the sky is blue.

7. Her cheeks ache from a blaring smile that’s much wider than her own.

8. She is beautiful and he is in a perpetual state of falling.

9. “I have a feeling the properties of that water might reinforce the Deception Elixer I’m working on with Slughorn, so the next time we go to the Mirror Pond, remind me to bring a jar, Mary.”

10. “What in Merlin’s name is that smell?” gagged Sirius, bringing his towel up to cover his nose.

11. “And if you come anywhere within spitting distance of my friends again, you’ll lose a lot more than your voice, Mulciber.”

12. Years of doubt and confusion about her sexuality were thrown away the instant Lily met James Potter.

13. When you grow up in a fanatic, pureblood-obsessed cult-family like I did, the topic of Fate gets discussed almost as often as what’s for breakfast.

14. James loved July.

15. “If those toilet seats are not securely back in the lavatories within the hour, Mr. and Mr. Weasley, I will have no choice but to put the both of you in detention,” said Minerva McGonagall, looking down at the two freckled third years in front of her.

16. “Mr. Potter, please put your trousers back on, my boy!”

17. Tensions ran high around the halls of Hogwarts once the Head Boy and Girl appointments became known that September.

18. Fred and George Weasley spent their first night in the Gryffindor dorms huddled together on Fred’s four-poster, counting their Dungbomb inventory with hushed voices, and sharing ever-widening grins.

19. The first deep breath of fresh air was indescribably satisfying after a morning spent hunched over a computer screen.

20. Flickering candlelight warmed Lily Evans’ cheeks as she stared off into the distance.

My takeaway is that I really love starting fics with dialogue! I don't know, these seem kinda all over the place to me lol Hmm as for my favorite... probably the Doggy Paddle opening aka #13 (though #4 and #6 get honorable mentions) :)

I'll tag @maraudersftw @startanewdream @sunshinemarauder @clare-with-no-i @blitheringmcgonagall @sweeethinny and @theroomofreq (any anyone else who wants to!! Consider yourself tagged) <3

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

 Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

 "What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

 The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

 If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

 "Of August?" she asks.

 "Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

 "Duh."

 Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

 "Good, because we have plans."

 She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

 "No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

 Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

 "Our Smarter House thing won an award."

 "No shit?"

 "Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

 She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

 Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

 "Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

 "No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

 "Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

 Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

 Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

 Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

 She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

 "I thought I had until two."

 "That was before I had the best idea."

 The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

 "First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

 Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

 Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

 Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

 Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

 "Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

 She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

 When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

 Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

 "The guy you've been seeing."

 How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

 She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

 Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

 "How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

 "Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

 Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

 "That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

 "So, for a few hours?"

 She shrugs. "More or less."

 "I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

 "Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

 Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

 "Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

 "Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

 "Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

 Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

 "Another business bro, I assume?"

 "He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

 She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

 "Ballet."

 Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

 “I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

 “Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

 “I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

 “The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

 Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

 “Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

 Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Congrats.”

 “Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

 Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

 “Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

 “You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

 She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

 Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

 “Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

 “2019 fall/winter?”

 Annabeth nods.

 “Styling?”

 “Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

 Throwing her head back, she groans.

 “What? What’s wrong?”

 “You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

 “Well… yeah, I was.”

 “Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

 Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

 “That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

 Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

 “Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

 Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

 “I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

 “Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

 Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

 “I don’t know…”

 “You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

 “What did you have in mind?”

 Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

 Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

 “They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

 Well. They are pretty cool.

 “It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

 Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

 “I haven’t even done anything.”

 “I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

 ***

 “Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

 “Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

 “Oh.”

 “Why?”

 “Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

 She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

 The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

 “Annabeth Chase.”

 She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

 Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

 Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

 “And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

 “You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

 “Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

 She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

 Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

 “Seriously?”

 “Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

 She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

 “Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

 “Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

 He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

 “I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

 This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

 “I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

 He frowns. “You sure?”

 Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

 “You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

 Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

 There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

 Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

 “It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

 From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

 She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

 “As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

 She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

 “But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

 Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

 Hey, it’s her night, too.

 After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

 Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

 Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

 “...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

 “I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

 “You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

 “Rehab? Really?”

 “What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

 Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

 But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

 Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

 The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

 Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

 Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

 Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

 The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

 She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

 That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

 Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

 She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

 She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

 It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

 She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

 Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

 It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you  

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

When you want your dreams to turn into reality

Pierreland Ambassador's Private Quarters, Lunaria

(Note: under the cut it's pretty NSFW spice wise, readers discretion is advised)

Nicholas: Hello Minnie

Minerva: Nicky? What are you..doing here...in...(Minerva's voice fails her)

Nicholas: I'm here to see you...you, you were right...with what you said to me...I want you Minnie..I want to fight for us..

Minerva: Nicky...

Minerva(laughing): We made it to a bed this time amor...

Nicholas: Indeed we did my love. It's a first for us

Minerva: That's cause you have no patience Nicky...but..why are you here?

Nicholas: I..I realized that...Isadora will just make me miserable..and you're right, I can fight to see my daughter through the courts....it'd just be awful to have my daughter's example of a family being parents who hate each other.

Minerva: What about Isadora? The House of Lords? Your Father?

Nicholas: They don't matter right now my love

Minerva: bu-

Nicholas: all that matters, is that I have always loved you..and that you are my queen...you have my heart...and I will fight for you Minnie, fight for us..

Minerva(bites her lip): Nicholas...

Minerva: You have my heart...please don't break it again...

Nicholas: I won't Minnie..I swear on the love I have for my mother, I won't break your heart...it's safe with me..I promise.

Minerva: I trust you Nicky..with every part of me..

Nicholas: I lo-

ALARM BLARES

Ambassador's Quarters, Lunaria | 7am

Minerva: fuuck that was a nice dream...(groans as she rolls over) damnit now I'm going to see him later with the devil incarnate herself

(Nicholas belongs to the amazing @simsroyallegacy thanks for letting me use him to give my girl a bit of joy)