#his righteous fury is so sexy

[fayt30l0v3]

what was happening in the kitchen that Agni didn't want Alois to see.

part of the game au

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Hot July

It’s the middle of summer and the mercury’s rising… Why cool down now? Here’s a long list of hot and steamy fics to keep you busy for a while. A variety of kinks for all persuasions–BDSM, Dom/sub undertones, Father Skippy fantasies, student/teacher sexy times, getting off at the office, Rehoboth Beach bondage and spanking and so much more. One thing’s for sure, they’ve all earned their E rating. Crank up the A/C and check them out!

The list starts with the top ten highest rated NSFW fics in the fandom, followed by everything else in no particular order.

Happy Reading!

Looking for more recs? Check out the FTFR fic register. Not quite what you're looking for? Tell us what you had in mind, here! → 💌

✨ Show the authors plenty of love with your comments and kudos on the fics you enjoyed after reading! Likes are lovely, but please reblog to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🍑 sacred word, bind me [E, 8K] By brokendrums | @brokendrums Tim takes a vow of silence, Hawk vows to break it.

🍑 We are tragically meant to be [E, 1K] By Fuddlewuddle | @fuddlewuddle He looks softer in his sleep, Hawk muses; fingertips lightly skimming over the ridge of Tim’s cheek bone, the curve of his ear feeling the small indent from where the frames of his spectacles rest whenever he’s awake.

Part 1 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Teacher's pet [E, 11K] By ascandalinpink | @ascandalinpink Tim’s first class for today is his first class ever in this particular elective. It’s a foreign affairs course taught by professor Fuller, whom Tim has never met, but he’s heard about him. All high praise, which leaves this course highly sought after.

As the professor enters the classroom and the chatter around him dies down, Tim understands perhaps why this course is so popular. And it might have nothing to do with the curriculum itself.

Or, Tim starts sleeping with and develops feelings for his college professor.

🍑 Mad about the Boy [E, 5K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes “Tell me,” Hawk said, tilting Tim’s head back to give his forehead a quick kiss, “what does my boy want for his birthday?”

“Am I still? Your boy?”

Part 4 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 More. [E, 2K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes Tim wants more. Hawk obliges.

Part 2 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Feeding on chaos and living in sin [E, 2K] By Fuddlewuddle | @fuddlewuddle Tim doesn't expect Hawk to call. And even when he does, the call doesn't go as Tim expects. But then he should probably stop trying to predict what Hawkins Fuller will do.

Part 2 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 I Guess I've Got The Christmas Blues [E, 5K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian Tim Laughlin stood in front of Hawk, one hand still raised as if to continue banging on the door, his tweed jacked dotted with snowflakes. Water droplets were trapped on his glasses, maybe from melted snow. But with how red-rimmed his eyes were, there might have been teardrops on his glasses as well.

Hawk’s slightly intoxicated reflexes took a moment to spring into action upon seeing Tim. “Skippy,” he grinned, “what, did you miss me that much? I’ll still be here after New Year’s."

Tim’s face screwed up in a look of righteous fury that Hawk knew meant an argument was coming. And before he could react, Tim was shoving Hawk backwards and into the apartment, slamming the door behind them.

“You absolute ass!”

Or, Tim confronts Hawk about his being investigated by the M Unit.

🍑 the thrill of your sweet embrace [E, 4K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes 1957 anthology series. Standalone chapters of missing/extended scenes from 1957.

Part 7 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Love [E, 2K] 💠 By Ikharys "It's going to be okay," Hawk whispers. Something in Tim's eyes makes it clear that he doesn't believe it, but he's not willing to argue. Or, the cabin scene, but a little different.

🍑 Lost Somewhere [E, 1K]💠 By Anagrrl Humming to himself a little, fingers digging into his palms briefly, Tim leans forward.

🍑 Can I? [E, 3K] By mailboxbutterflies | @mailboxbutterflies The kink is consent. The kink is open communication. (But also the kink is praise).

Or, taking the "Is this alright?" line from Ep1 and running with it.

🍑 Who Do You Belong To? [E, 2K]💠 By mrschesapeakeripper “That’s my good boy.” All those years later and the praise still made him blush. Or, the missing scene from the mutual masturbation episode. None of that "no touching" nonsense.

🍑 You taste divine [E, 1K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow Hawk joins Tim in the shower in episode 6 because he wants to kiss him...there!

🍑 Love Is An Angel Disguised As Lust [E, 2K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk's eyes darkened, from outshining the daytime sky to rivalling the night. His lips curved into a wicked smirk. If Tim didn't know better, he might suspect he'd just played right into Hawk's hands. "Educate me." That wasn't exactly what Tim had intended. But, his attention caught by the glint off Hawk's wedding ring, Tim decided he could work with that. Or, the edging fic that's probably sixty percent soft.

🍑 I want you to fuck me [E, 2K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow THAT scene from Episode 8 but slightly different. :) Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV, Chapter 2 is Tim's POV.

🍑 Educate Me [E, 13K] By fullerthanskippy | @fullerthanskippy A Hawk x Tim AU in which the timelines jump from 2012 to 2014 to present day 2024. When present day Tim receives an invitation to the 10 year reunion of his Georgetown graduating class, he is filled with both hope and dread that he will run into one particular professor.

One man who was the through-line of his two years in grad school. The man who taught him more than he could have ever learned in the classroom.

When Tim is re-acquainted with Professor Hawkins Fuller, he immediately flashes back to 12 years prior, when he first encountered the man that he had no idea would be the greatest love and loss of his life.

Or, tons of garbage filthy smut sprinkled in between pining, angst, and fluff. Contains explicit material including but not limited to the likes of top!hawk, bottom!tim, top!tim, bottom!hawk, dom!hawk, sub!tim, bratty!tim, and much, much more. Enjoy!

Part 1 of Educate Me

🍑 you’re a gas leak and i’m a woodhouse [E, NR, 2K] By Anonymous “I want you to treat me like one of those bathhouse boys.” Part 2 of we do have reputations, we keep it secret

🍑 Rail me until I can't stand [E, 4K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow Various missing scenes from episodes 1 and 8. Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV of their last time before Hawk's betrayal. Chapter 2 - Tim's POV of the same scene. Chapter 3 is a missing scene from Episode 1. Hawk is Tim's first because Skippy never went all the way with Bob...

🍑 After Hours [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank “That’s it,” Hawk praised, petting through the soft strands of Tim's hair. “Good boy.” Tim moaned softly around him, swallowing him deeper into the blissful pressure of his throat. Or, The office sex fic that no one asked for.

🍑 I Belong to You [E, 2K] By Cyantific | @beyondxmeasure This isn’t even close to how he saw their night ending, but here they are, and if Tim wants it rough, who is Hawk to deny him? Or, the ‘Hit me.’ scene… but a little different. In which Hawk still hits Tim, just not where you think.

🍑 in the still of the night [E, 1K] By thewindyoubargainedfor | @thewindyoubargainedfor Tim stayed up, waiting for Hawk to call. Hawk made it worth his while.

🍑 Only Himself To Blame [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🍑 All Tied Up With Nowhere To Go [E, 2K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian “Are they too tight?” Hawk asked, tugging on Tim’s wrists.

Tim’s wrists were, at that moment, bound to the headboard of Hawkins Fuller’s bed by some carefully knotted neckties. Tim was struck by the thought of Hawk wearing one of these ties to work on a later day, becoming distracted in his office thinking of what they had done with them on this night. His mouth twitched up at the corner.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Hawk placed a hand under his chin and tilted Tim’s face towards Hawk’s own. “This is important. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tim rolled his wrists and wiggled his fingers to show they were fine. “I’m not made of glass, Hawk, you don’t have to treat me like I’ll break.”

Hawk teases a tied-up Tim Part 2 of FT Valentine's Day 2024

🍑Shut Up and Drink Your Milk [E, 4K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank It all started with Hawk's "shut up and drink your milk" and then whispering how he wanted Tim to "fuck him". With those words alone, Tim doesn't hesitate. An extension of the Episode 8, '57 sex scene.

🍑 they said beware (lord hear my prayer) [NR, 2K] By Anonymous Tim’s eyes strayed to the windows, what lay beyond them—who lay beyond them.

🍑You're an Angel, I'm a Dog [E, 2K]💠 By spiffyyy He was never that good. “Father, forgive me for all the times when I fall short of your standards…” He took a breath and watched the ceiling fan rotate once, then twice. “And I’m sorry for this. It was what you gave me.” Tim picked his phone up and swallowed dryly before tapping on the notification to open Grindr. Or, the unlikely pairing of religious trauma and a Grindr hookup.

🍑Control and desperation [E, 3K] By mailboxbutterflies | @mailboxbutterflies Now Tim was really confused. "H...Hawk I really need to pee—" "I said no. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you, Skippy?" Tim nodded slowly as he started to put the pieces together. "Then hold it," Hawk repeated coolly. Tim saw a familiar fire behind Hawk's eyes. The kind that suggested he would be rewarded if he obeyed. "Okay, fine." And then, "Or at least I'll try." Or, Hawk makes Tim wet himself and then rewards him with shower sex.

🍑 Bloom [E, 2K] By hot_hellboy | @hot-hellboy Hawk fists Tim for the first time.

🍑 Fetch [T, 1K] By Deputy_Buck | @deputy-buck Hawk was consumed in drafting a small speech for a function Senator Smith had organized —something about acknowledging McCarthy's threat to the State Department but encouraging diplomacy— when Tim showed up on his doorstep looking like a kicked puppy. His boy promised that he would be quiet and that all he needed was to be somewhere safe while he felt this way.

🍑 Forgive Me Father [E, 2K]💠 By Loopygrove Hawkins lets Tim finish.

🍑 I want you to fuck me [E, 2K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow THAT scene from Episode 8 but slightly different. :) Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV, Chapter 2 is Tim's POV.

🍑 Like Other Couples [E, 4K] By palfriendpatine66 | @palfriendpatine66 After the trip to Rehoboth Beach in ep 3 “Hit Me”, Hawk takes another shot at giving Tim the romantic dinner he wanted, this time opting for a more private affair.

🍑 Have You Ever? [M, 1K]💠 By Cozy_coffee “Has anyone ever licked that cute little ass of yours?” A fic in which a bold Hawk introduces a somewhat shy Tim to the pleasures of rimming.

🍑 hell is empty, and all the devils are here [E, 4K] By alorchik | @alorchik Hawk Fuller, a committed skeptic, spends his summers in a country house, living a solitary bachelor's life. His routine is disrupted when he unexpectedly encounters a young local priest who now constantly occupies his thoughts.

🍑 Our Little Remedy [E, 2K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian A pinch of teeth at his neck made it known that Tim had heard him. He seemed restless tonight, rowdy in a way he got when too worked up about something. And it usually ended in one of two ways. Either an explosive argument that ended with one of them storming out, or fucking until they both lay exhausted, sweaty and sated. He could work with that. “Skippy, are you trying to ask me for something?” Or, bathroom blowjobs at the Cozy Corner.

🍑 all of my fighting done [E, 1K] By startagainbuttercup | @startagainbuttercup How he spent four weeks not kissing him, Hawk would never know. He doesn’t want to ever, ever stop, as he presses Tim to the door and gently licks into his mouth, touching his face and his solid body under him.

🍑 Chain of Command [E, 2K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Corporal Laughlin and Sergeant Fuller have some fun together.

🍑 'Home' [E, 4K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 Hawk comes to visit Tim after a rough visit with his parents. And then spends the next morning with Tim. Filler/Missing Scene from Episode 2 'Bulletproof' The "It doesn't matter, I'm home now," kiss.

🍑 Two Can Play At That Game [E, 7K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk and Tim spend a very enjoyable morning together.

🍑 Got It Bad, Got It Good [E, 4K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Tim is in training for a marathon. Hawk thinks his Skippy ought to stop teasing him so much.

🍑 I Wanna Be a Cowboy's Sweetheart [E, 3K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian Hawk tipped his hat politely towards Tim, the way he always did when he rode back into town and stabled his horse at the Liberty Bell, where Tim worked as a stablehand. The pay wasn’t much, but it was steady work, and the off-chance of spotting Hawkins Fuller in leather chaps astride a horse sweetened the pot considerably.

Hawk flashed Tim the look that he understood meant “Meet me around the back,” so Tim dawdled for a few moments more, trying in vain to wipe off as much dirt and muck as he could from his shirt before oh-so-casually strolling to behind the stables, where it met the treeline and provided just the right amount of cover.

🍑 Don’t Pull Your Love Out [E, 5K] By Cyantific | @beyondxmeasure Hawk visits Tim in prison, and it stirs up a lot of feelings, and a lot of memories. Part 4 of Man's Second Best Friend

🍑 It's Rude To Speak With Your Mouth Full [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk was playing with fire, he knew, but the minute Tim had walked into his office, eyes lighting up just from the sight of him, Hawk had been powerless to resist. Whatever his boy wanted, he would have. And when Tim stepped between Hawk's legs, dropping to his knees with the grace of a lifetime of devotion - well, there were definite perks to working late.

Yet another office sex fic.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Who vibes for Vibranium?

AN: Have a little short and sweet, sort of cracky Stucky sexual shenanigans story. Enjoy!

Beta’d by @metalbvcky but all errors are my fault.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List

Summary: Steve likes to be indulged. It's a good thing Bucky likes to indulge him. Even if he's a thieving little big brat sometimes.

Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

WC: <1k

CW: AU: Not Canon Compliant, teasing, suggestive dialogue, Super-Soldier sexy shenanigans, discussion of impact play, discussion of bondage, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Soft Top Bucky Barnes, Bratty Bottom Steve Rogers, Fade to Black.

Bingo Fills and Challenges:

@stuckybingo I4 - Vibranium

“Come on, Buck. It’ll be fun.” Bucky pulled a face at Steve’s wheedling tone. He wasn’t convinced.

“Fun? Just sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.”

Steve sidled up to him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, looking into his eyes and doing his best Little Shit ™ pout. “Don’t you miss being able to hold me down. Like really stop me from moving.” Steve nuzzled into Bucky’s neck and Bucky let out a huff. 

“I miss it,” Steve continued, letting his teeth scrape over Bucky’s throat. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to think of the Presidents of the United States. “I miss feeling all helpless under you.” Steve’s fingers slipped up under the back of Bucky’s shirt and started to draw light patterns over his skin, making him shiver. “One vibranium arm can only do so much and I can’t work out a way for you to use my shield to help.”

“Steve,” Bucky cautioned. “This isn’t really a conversation about informed consent if you’re trying to get my dick to make the decision and not my brain. It’s cheating.”

Steve raised his head with a grin. “Is it working though?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing he’d already lost the fight. “You’re such a punk, you know that?”

“But I’m your punk, and you love me.”

“Unfortunately so,” Bucky agreed. “Now, if you wanna do this, first you gotta hand ‘em over.”

Steve let go of him and practically skipped across their apartment. How a 6”2’ supersoldier could move like that Bucky didn’t know, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t stimulating to watch. It was also kinda cute, the way that Steve was getting giddy at the thought of doing something ‘kinky’. 

As two queer guys who’d grown up in the 30’s, neither were strangers to things that were nowadays termed as kinky, but no matter how long they’d been together, and how many different things they’d done, Steve was always enthusiastic, as though it was his first time, every time. 

When Steve returned from his little sojourn into his study, he was practically vibrating - ha! - with energy and he passed over his new toy with a grin.

“Do I even wanna know where you got these from?” Bucky asked. Of course this was the question that made Steve look a little embarrassed. His neck flushed pink and his left hand came up to brush over the hair at the back of his head. 

“I - uh - may have found them in the cache of recovered HYDRA hardware that Fury keeps in the upstate warehouse.”

“Steve Rogers,” Bucky let out, teasingly. “Are you telling me that you - the great and righteous Captain America - stole these Vibranium handcuffs?”

Steve startled “No! Not stole. Just - umm - borrowed.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Steve had the good grace to look slightly cowed. “I mean - we might give them back?”

“If they help me beat your ass without struggling to keep you still they are definitely not going back,” Bucky retorted, failing to get the right tone of authority into his voice.

“You promise?” Steve asked slyly and Bucky shook his head in mild disbelief at his bratty boyfriend.

“The fucking audacity,” he said to no-one in particular, and then “Get in that bedroom, Rogers and strip. You’re getting ten for your cheek, and if you aren’t ready when I get in there, then it’s an extra ten.” 

“Oh no,” cried Steve with faux despair. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Nothing, if these work.” Bucky took a step closer, drawing himself up to his full height, despite that being two inches less than Steve’s. It had the desired effect though - science might have taken Steve out of his little body, but it hadn’t taken the memory of being in that little body out of Steve. Steve shrank down, now reacting to Bucky’s domineering aura. “You’ll do nothing except cry those sweet tears as I turn your ass red because you won’t be able to get away from me. You won’t be able to stop me. Now - do I have to tell you again? Get in there and strip.”

Steve turned, scurrying into the bedroom as fast as he could with his cock doing its best impression of a flagpole between his legs. 

Smiling to himself, Bucky looked at the cuffs, inspecting them and working out how they opened and closed. The last thing he wanted was for them to get stuck, even if the thought  of Stark being mentally scarred for life having to come and help remove them was amusing as hell.

“Time to see if these work,” he muttered to himself, before calling out “Ready or not, here I come.”

Over an hour later

“Yup,” Bucky said with a smile as he stretched out. “Those definitely work.”

Steve groaned and buried his head into Bucky’s side, while lying on his stomach. “My ass is on fire,” he complained.

Bucky sniggered. “Quit your whining, you big baby. You only have yourself to blame. And you’ll be all healed up in an hour. Two, tops.”

As Steve huffed against him and threw an arm across his stomach, Bucky picked up the cuffs from where he’d deposited them after removing them from Steve’s wrists. He turned them over in his hands, pondering.

“I wonder,” he said, “if we got a metal footboard whether these would magnetise strongly enough to it that I could use them to keep your legs apart…”

Steve let out a moan that wasn’t entirely one of despair. “Buck, let me recover before you start trying to turn me on again.”

With a smile still on his lips, Bucky leant over and places a kiss to the top of Steve’s sweaty head.

“Love you, punk.”

“Love you too, jerk.”

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[no-more-tales-tavern]

"Sinful Gifs 6E: Jester Lavore's decision to deface the All Hammer's temple broke the restraint Flynt had. It was time the Traveler's faithful arch priestess learned the power and benefits granted from worshiping a true god. (@heroes-den)"

Sinful Gifs: 6E

If this was meant to be a punishment, then it was sorely failing in teaching Jester anything other than the fact that fucking with other gods' temples led to getting fucked herself—and in the most incredible way possible, too, she might add, as she arched her back across the altar to the All Hammer, mouth agape in pleasure as she felt the temple's guardian hammering away at her.

"Harder~ oh fucking god~" the tiefling girl moaned out wantonly, her legs and tail all wrapping around the waist of the handsome and rugged orc plowing into her. "Fuck~ I think I see why you're the All Hammer's favorite~ fuck, it's so good~"

Looming over her, his hands holding her sides just under her bouncing breasts, the orc cleric Flynt huffed as he thrust harder, his righteous anger twisting and mixing with the wanton lust he felt as he stared down at such an erotic beauty at his mercy. "This is nothing, you defiler~ you have not yet seen the full weight of my god's fury~"

"Oh, I can take it~" Jester boldly declared, her arms slowly raising up over her head to shoot a smug smirk up at her fellow cleric. "I can take it a-AAHHHHHFUUUUCCCKKK~!!"

Immediately, she found herself eating her words, as the orcish cleric suddenly fully pressed himself into her, folding the blue-skinned tiefling under him like a pretzel into a deep, hard mating press. His body almost seemed to glow with divine light as his hips hammered ruthlessly down into hers, filling the temple with a pounding cacophony of flesh smacking against flesh, and the howling screams of a tiefling in the throes of passion.

"FUCKFUCKFUCKOHFUCK~!!! I TAKE IT BAAACCCKKK~!!" Jester screamed out, her arms wrapping tight around the orcish cleric's shoulders, nails digging into his back. "I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUUUCCCKKK~!!"

"Not good enough~" Flynt growled into her ear, and his hip bucked harder as he felt his cock begin to throb. "You haven't earned forgiveness yet~! G-gRrahhh~!!"

With a final groan, he slammed balls deep into the sexy tiefling, his cock throbbing hard before erupting, hot and thick divine seed spilling into her. Jester jerked with a sudden scream, her head bouncing off the altar as she shuddered and jerked, climaxing wildly around him—for a brief second, she swore the world went white—before she slumped, exhausted, on the altar.

Panting, Flynt slowly pulled back, staring at the panting, gasping, dazed Jester. "But...it's a start," he murmured, lifting her up off the altar and turning to carry her deeper into the temple.

It would be a long while before anyone saw the little tiefling again.

[loxare]

Ok so it's been a week since I finished Iron Widow and I think my brain has calmed down enough to talk about it without it just being incoherent shrieking

Guys

Guys

Read this book. It is so good. I am not kidding. If you liked Pacific Rim, read this book. (I've never read of seen Handmaid's Tale, but this book is also full of righteous fury about the inbuilt misogyny of the world it's set in, so read it if you like that.) Just do it. Go. And then come scream at me about it cause I wanna hear that

More Thoughts under the cut cause those are a bit spoilery

I have never read a book with such a feral, unhinged protagonist. Wu Zetian is just such an amazing character. Her murder list starts with one person and once it's empty she is very willing to add to it. She really took one look at the patriarchy and said is anyone going to destroy that and then didn't wait for an answer. She is so incredibly bloodthirsty, but as soon as two (2) entire people showed her love and respect and acceptance, she becomes so soft for them, for a given value of soft. Soft for Zetian is still razor sharp for most people. She changes so much over the book but it's her outlook that changes, as she gains more experience. She is rightfully unwilling to forgive the people who try to hurt and use her and once they fuck up their second chance, that's it. They're gone. It is excellent to read

Li Shimin is such a gift too. Poor baby had such a hard life. He can have a little murder, as a treat. And despite everything! He never gets angry for himself!! He could snap a person in half with his bare hands, and would if they threatened Zetian or Yizhi, but not for his own sake! Deserves the world, deserves happiness, deserves some more self esteem. I keep rereading that scene at the end of their first flight because he's just so shocked and tender and I love it. And the more he learns and the more he finds out that what happened to those girls isn't (entirely) his fault, it's the fault of the systems designed to bleed them dry and he's so furious but still manages to be the least bloodthirsty of the trio

And Gao Yizhi. Absolute sweetheart but I am convinced he's secretly a bastard and I am living for it. He's not even doing a good job of hiding it. Boy knows what he wants and he wants to kiss both his sexy roommates. He kinda takes a side seat, both metaphorically and also literally in the Chrysalis, to the other two for this book but in the sequel he is absolutely going to shine, calling it now (sequel announcement when??). He showed a little of that near the end of the book and it is going to be amazing

And the plot is so amazing. Just. Farm girl plans to avenge sister's murder by killing the murderer could be an entire novel by itself, and has been the plot of a few very good books, but the resolution for that comes in the first hundred pages, and there's more plot after than! And there's also giant robots fighting equally giant monsters thrown in! And then the slow progression of Zetian not caring that she was going to die for her actions, to daring people to shoot her because she's valuable now and they can't afford to lose her yet, to doing everything in her power to ensure she and her two boys survive. Survive and also destroy all the systems keeping women down and also maybe the government, another few things which could be entire novels in and of themselves but are so seamlessly woven into this one

I've read a lot of angry literature but this one is the most visceral. It is furious at the state of things and refuses to let them stay as they are. The systems which are inherently unbalanced, designed to be unbalanced, but kept secret so the changes they effect on the female pilots can be written off as natural. "Women aren't as naturally strong. Women don't go into the fields that pay more, or don't do as good of a job, that's why there's a wage gap." The review thingy on the front cover calls this book a primal scream and it is absolutely correct. Reading through it feels like jumping off a cliff, screaming, with a sword pointed at your greatest foe who's on the ground below you, putting not just your entire weight into it but all the force the planet can exert on you, you can't stop, you don't want to stop, and when you land flawlessly you're just breathless with it

Everything I knew about the world I just read changes in the last three or so pages and I am so mad I don't already have the sequel in my hands. I will have to happily settle for rereading this book cover to cover a couple million times until I do. Predictions: Yizhi shows his true bastard side, Shimin gets a fucking break for once in his life, and Zetian kills god

[southern-god1]

I'm not worth much as a slave, could I become some athletic equipment for a Southern alpha?

As you are herded through the former court house now turned into a processing center, you hear a number of sounds; nervous chatter from all the other terrified Yankees, a booming beer burp or two, and the occasional moan of pleasure as those worthy of Southernization are converted on the spot. A tall, handsome gentleman in an grey camo officers uniform looks you over.

“Yankee #79423672.”

He walks around you, reading from a chart, having compiled all the records from medical, state, police, and country records into a single report.

“5’4, 105 pounds.”

“Majored in….majored in interpretive dance, minored in gender studies. Pathetic.”

“Democrat. Activist, regularly calls to defund the police. Threw a brick into a store window.”

His voice grows angry.

“Burned a Confederate flag. Fuck you, Yankee shit. Your gonna pay for that.”

The list went on and on, chronicling everything about you, his disdain obvious. He finally just gestured to a soldier, a handsome stud in grey camo.

“Completely disposable. Unworthy even of being enslaved. I would execute him right here, but that would spook the other Yankees.”

You began to panic. Executed?!? What the hell? The soldier nodded, and began to drag you off, your puny form unable to resist his might. Within a few moments, you were in a room full of boxes. Boxes? What the hell?

Suddenly, you felt incredibly woozy and dizzy. your body began to change. Your body warped, skin becoming tougher, a dark brown. Your body grew thicker, but parts of you felt oddly wedged together, as though parts of you tapered together. The soldier in front of you seemed to grow massively taller, as though you were shrinking. No no no don’t crush me! Don’t shrink me! I’ll be good! You tried to scream, but your lips wouldn’t move, as though they were stitched shut. Your mind, full of righteous indignation and fury, and pathetic Yankee ideas and complaints, began to still, and quiet, despite your panic and internal screaming. Whatever you were, a hand effortlessly picked you up and placed you in a box, and everything went dark.

A few days later, a handsome young football player reached into the box. A scruffy young god, sexy Georgia football player Jake Fromm loomed over you like a fucking mountain.

“Fuckin awesome. Look y’all, they sent us another Yankee football!”

A football! You couldn’t be a football! No, no, no- AHHHH!

You were being tossed around, flying through the air, screaming, before slamming into a beefy studs chest. With every impact, your mind vanished, and soon you were just a dumb football slave, eager to serve your masters by being thrown around. So much for your fancy degrees, stupid Yankee shit.

[rosethornewrites]

Fics I read this week!

MDZS/The Untamed, entirely. Including Tumblr fics here now, even if I shared them as well.

A lot of these are super short since I decided to embark on a journey to clear my AO3 “Marked For Later” list of anything under 3k words by reading them.

This is also a lot of fanfiction and I might have a problem. Any fanfiction addict support groups out there?

Also, I learned that I can only post 100 links. So this is going up early and I’ll separate the Not Rated, E, and M ones into a different post for next week.

Finished:

Not Rated (or Tumblr fics):

Parents, by @bloody-bee-tea

Untitled, by @mondengel

Untitled, by @mondengel

Untitled, by @cerusee

Xue Yang - The Third Jade of Gusu, by inawritingfrenzy

As Long as You're Here, by Aitheriomeraki

You are the last person I need to tell me exactly what I already know. You’re going to tell me to go back to cultivating the righteous path. You’re going to tell me that this is against the principles of a cultivator. I’m going to hear you drone on and on about what’s wrong with what I’m doing. You’re going to tell me that I’m acting like a pure disgrace, completely out of line, extremely unhinged and unruly and every other word your Lan vocabulary can muster up.” His words felt heavy but unstoppable, tears making their way to his eyes.

“You’re-” He was about to continue before getting cut off.

“Wei Ying… zhiji.” Lan Wangji breathed out like a plea, like a prayer. -------------- OR Lan Wangji talks to Wei Wuxian the day after killing Wen Chao.

Things we lost in the fire, by KatAnni

Three instances in Lan Wangji's life that involved fire. One of them certainly ends better than the others.

OR Wangxian can be cute in any situation, even when someone sets fire to their inn.

Sleep Talk, by breezebrocolis

"...But being awakened through such ungodly hours is worth it after all, because Wei Wuxian discovered that, contrary to popular belief about his boyfriend's sleeping habits, there’s a moment when Lan Zhan sleep talks, and he's the only one who knows it."

and

"...for now, after all and a year more, he'd never choose to have those lonesome minutes back. It turns out that filling the gaps with emptiness was necessary once, but it doesn't really fit him anymore. Lan Wangji has Grace on his side for now, the print of Wei Ying's delicate fingers into his skin."

In other words, a study about WangXian's sleeping habits.

Hold On, by voxnoxsox

“And really,” Wei Ying continued, “it makes no sense. Why would they not want to hug you, Lan Zhan, or, like… Do you warn them off or something? Give them the ol’ icy Lan glare?”

“No,” Lan Zhan said, when it was clear a response was required. His mind was a little preoccupied with Wei Ying’s hands still running up and down, up and down.

Rated E:

The Dreams of Youth, by Sami (25 chapters)

"Mother, I have to go, with or without you. Please come with me."

"A-Zhan, you're five years old," she says.

"With or without you, Mother," he pleads. "Please come with me."

Lan Wangji starts again from the beginning.

Rough and Tumble, by SugarMilkTea (3 chapters)

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are paired together for sparring, because of course they are.

Wei Wuxian is better than the rest of the disciples, because of course he is - so Lan Wangji takes him to another field to train privately.

Things escalate, because of course they do.

and if we choose to fall (who's to say it isn't flight?), by KiaraSayre (2 chapters)

Wei Wuxian has an idea and makes a talisman. A sexy talisman.

to live this way is not for the meek, by la_muerta

Yiling Laozu and his band The Restless Dead are one of the biggest names in the rock scene, playing to thousands of screaming fans in sold-out concerts all over the world.

But underneath the black leather, makeup, and untouchable, arrogant facade is a side of Wei Ying that only Lan Zhan gets to see.

Awareness, by syriala (last in a series)

Awareness is slow to come to Jiang Cheng, mostly because he doesn’t want to be aware. He’s warm and comfortable and Jiang Xiuying is bound to be still around and that is really all Jiang Cheng needs in life.

But then there’s an open mouthed kiss to the hinge of his jaw, Jiang Xiuying slowly trailing his way down Jiang Cheng’s throat, and it’s enough to get Jiang Cheng’s eyes open, however reluctant he might be.

Jiang Xiuying seemingly knows him better than Jiang Cheng does himself because he is already looking up at Jiang Cheng, his eyes sparkling and a teasing grin on his lips.

“Good morning,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice still rough from sleep and Jiang Xiuying leans up to capture Jiang Cheng’s lips in a kiss.

The heat behind it tells Jiang Cheng exactly where Jiang Xiuying wants to take this today, and Jiang Cheng can’t say that he minds too much.

yours for the taking, by SugarMilkTea

“There’s still time to back out, you know,” Wei Ying says, quiet enough that even the attendants waiting at the corners of their table won’t hear.

Lan Wangji pauses in the middle of reaching for the sash on Wei Ying’s—on his husband’s—outer robes. A pit opens in his stomach. His hand falls to his lap, and he lifts his eyes to meet Wei Ying’s. “Is that what you want?”

---

The components of the marriage ceremony are easy in theory. The handfasting, the bows, the feast... and the Taking.

housed by your warmth, by wangxiians

wei wuxian may never grow to enjoy mornings but he enjoys this, he really enjoys this – stolen time together, bodies reuniting, waking up before the world.

Rated M:

Heaven Hath No Fury, by Lady Mythos (Lady_Mythos)

The two biggest mistakes Yu Ziyuan has made are as follows: assuming Wei Wuxian was the cause of all her problems and assuming Cangse Sanren was dead.

Or, Cangse Sanren has a lot of things to say to the bitch that abused her son.

weird and awkward, by sami (3rd in a series)

At the age of sixteen, Lan Zhan falls in love, somewhat against his will.

Have Your Cake and Eat it Too, by adrian_kres (4 chapters)

Like half of all sound-tied people, Wei Ying was born with words in his heart and needing the melody they belong to. It’s his soul marker, and he’s been searching for his soulmate his whole life. Things change when he hears a tune being hummed in a cafe that matches his lyrics perfectly. Except he didn’t see who was humming it! To help, his brother’s soulmate puts him in contact with the beautiful pianist Lan Wangji, who makes Wei Ying question if he wants to find his soulmate at all…

Until The End, by abCEE (40 chapters)

"When I - when I tied my ribbon around our wrists, I knew what I was doing and I privately honored it." Wei Wuxian's brows continued to meet as he tried to understand where the conversation was going until realization dawned on him. "Wa - wait! Lan Zhan, is it what I think it is?!!" "It is usually done at the end of a wedding ceremony -" "What-" "But it could have been acknowledged as an engagement." "Lan Zhan!" He cannot believe what he is hearing now. "But my ancestor revealed herself -" "And we bowed… three times. We bowed, Lan Zhan!"

In which wangxian are married since the Cold Pond Cave incident, knows how proper communication works, and had confessed in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. Things went up and down from there.

Breaking The Ice, by aflaminghalo

“Why are are you asking for punishment?”

Bring Your Honor, Bring Your Shame, by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (21 chapters, third in a series)

Nie HuaiSang has a problem. His brother is losing his mind.

Rated T:

don't close your eyes, by howodd5ever

In which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian actually talk about the porn book.

Another Road, by Rynne

Something in the Guanyin Temple goes wrong. When Lan Wangji opens his eyes, he's fifteen again.

Phobia, by yougetsomekisses

What if Lan Wangji had been thrown in that dungeon with Wei Wuxian?

Snow Hunt, by InsanitysxCreation

A short scene of a winter hunt.

Entirely self indulgent, in that the idea of Lan Wangji in white leather gloves arrived in my brain and wouldn't let me continue until I'd written this.

真金不怕火炼 | True Gold Fears No Fire, by adrian_kres

In the immediate aftermath of a successful Sunshot Campaign, Wei Ying is kissed by Lan Zhan at the Phoenix Mountain Hunt while blindfolded. But when the blindfold comes off, Lan Zhan is nowhere to be found. Now, Wei Ying must deal with this heartbreak on top of forced therapy he was mandated to complete due to using demonic cultivation to end the war. Through it all, Wei Ying learns he has value, and that his assumptions about what happened at the hunt may not be entirely correct.

Fantasy, by snowberryrose (3 chapters)

In which Wen Qing leaves Or: Wen Qing rescues herself

Canon divergence from episode 20

Chapter 2: Qin Su’s choice Chapter 3: Xue Yang’s end

Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar, by masked (6 chapters)

“You know,” Ouyang Zizhen says thoughtfully over dinner one day, “I’ve never seen Wei-qianbei get jealous before.”

Lan Jingyi pauses for the briefest second, remembers the sect rule of keeping silence during meals, and decidedly forgoes it. “What?”

“Well,” Ouyang Zizhen continues, “Hanguang-jun always has a lot of admirers everywhere we go, but Wei-qianbei never seems to mind it.”

“Why are we talking about this?” Jin Ling asks flatly.

Four times Wei Wuxian doesn't get jealous, and the one time he does.

sweet dreams, by ShippersList

Distance won’t hinder Wei Wuxian from giving his Lan Zhan a goodnight kiss.

Sugar Baby, by nirejseki

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, and uh oh, that sounded like his ‘bad news’ voice. “We need to talk about your spending.”

That was worse than Nie Huaisang had thought.

“Is the talk going to be about how amazingly economical I am in making intelligent and aesthetically appropriate purchases?” he asked hopefully, clutching his latest and most aesthetic fan.

“Oddly enough,” his brother said, “no.”

Somehow, Nie Huaisang hadn’t thought so.

He was...No, He was Incompetent, by Corundum_Creations

He was Lan Wangji, a Twin Jade of the Lan Clan and he could face anything... so how did he become so incompetent with taking his Wei Ying and hiding him away?

The Resentful Cultivator Who Cried 'I'm Fine', by Mikkeneko

"Who's possessed?" another voice joined the scrum, and Wei Wuxian moaned in despair as Jiang Cheng came marching over to join the rest of the party, glaring daggers at Wei Wuxian for being the source of all this trouble. Purple lightning crackled on his wrist as his eyes narrowed. "This idiot got possessed? I can take care of that with Zidian! Stand back!"

"Ahaha, Jiang Cheng, there's no need for that!" he protested hurriedly. "Really, I'm not possessed!"

"Ah," Lan Jingyi nodded knowingly. "That's exactly what someone who was possessed and trying to throw us off the trail would say!"

---

While on a night-hunt with his friends and family, Wei Wuxian takes a near miss from a dangerous beast. Fortunately he wasn't hurt... but for some reason, they have trouble believing him when he says I'm fine.

Why I Can’t Help But Love Red, by spiralingbutmakeitanimerelated

Lan Wangji takes a bath after a night hunt. Wei Wuxian has questions about the night he branded himself.

Not Till Then Dare I Part From You, by forgottenenvy

WangXian share a tender moment as Lan Wangji braids flowers into Wei Wuxian's hair.

Snowmelt, by sugar_shoal

Lan Zhan has been badly injured on a night-hunt. Wei Wuxian panics only a little. Jiang Cheng drags them all to a nearby abandoned hut to wait out the encroaching blizzard.

Head Empty, Only Wei Ying, by nana_banana

Wei Ying is getting married? To someone not Lan Wangji? Fuck. Not if Lan Wangji has anything to say about it.

sparrow heart, by CeliaBlair24 (fourth in a series)

They pass notes through the spaces between their desks about nonsensical, inconsequential things. About the weather and birds, romance novels, and the forest behind the Cloud Recesses where they spend all their afternoons playing.

And Wei Wuxian is smart, both by the books and on his feet. If he wanted to, he could easily play Lan-xiansheng’s favorite class pet --studious and diligent about being studious; creative besides-- but he doesn’t. He listens to Lan-xiansheng and Jiang Wanyin’s complaints with half an ear and when all is said and done, he turns his back on them both and greets Nie Huaisang with his cheeky smile.

Otherwise known as "Nie Huaisang falls into like."

Retrospective on the State of the Field: Qinghe Patron X (QPX) Studies, by bladedweaponsandswishycoats (jeweledichneumon)

"Qinghe Patron X, eh?" Nie Huaisang chuckles, noticing the heading. Licking his lips, he circles the listing for the conference panel with a yellow highlighter. Despite the moniker having become common several years ago, he still gets a kick out of it. Of course he'd have to go to that one. He takes a moment to feel the faint touch of regret that he isn't on the panel himself; it is always more fun messing with people as a panelist than trying to rely on the Q&A period to say something provocative but relevant.

or

In which immortal cultivator Nie Huaisang likes to fuck around with scholars attempting to study what they think they know about him, and other shenanigans he gets up to (both with and without the help of his friends) in the modern age.

or

The year is 2021. Lan Wangji still goes where the chaos is, though these days that can mean a lot more than night hunts. Especially when Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang are dedicated to making sure being immortal never gets boring.

A Story for the Ages, by Supernova_Sage

Lan Wangji saunters over to the mystery section. He can hear people whispering, but he isn’t close enough to make sense of the conversation. The lilt in the voice makes it sound like one person is asking a question. Hmm. If he can hear whispering, they’re still being far too loud. He shakes his head and continues his browsing. He pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s nearly 6p. He really should get home. He still needs to feed the bunnies and feed himself and look over emails and—

He stops in his tracks. Stops when he sees the book that he’s been waiting to check out for months now. Every time he’s stopped by, though, it’s been checked out by someone else. And now it’s finally here. Sitting on the shelf in front of him. Once he manages to collect himself, he reaches for it. His fingers don’t touch the spine of the book, though. Instead, he finds his fingers brushing against the fingers of another.

DanTian - Into the Dark (LWJ), by ArchiveWriter (fourth in a series)

Wangji's memory holds images of Wei Ying. Wangji does penance by reliving his memories, and by making sure Wei Ying is loved. Wangji burns the millet porridge he's supposed to stir whilst Wei Ying fetches water for tea.

chasing echoes, by SWANPYRE

Lan Wangji must learn to co-exist with what he has learned his entire life to despise.

Snowfall, by nightflower

During a winter storm in Cloud Recesses, Wangji's old scars ache. Wei Ying takes care of him.

relics of love, by cl410

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Lan Zhan pinched the bridge of his nose. “The bunnies were almost eaten.”

“Our son was almost traumatized for life,” Wei Ying said, choking on a laugh. “Lan Zhan, he almost witnessed a double homicide on our own balcony.” He wheezed with laughter, clutching his ribs.

“We will install higher locks,” Lan Zhan said grimly.

Rated G:

A-Yuan's guide to eat the rich (a.k.a. How A-Yuan single handedly stopped a siege from happening and saved everyone), by fanficaddictXOXO

A-Yuan is only three years old. But he knows many things. He knows how to write his name. He knows potatoes are better than radishes (Xian gege said so). But the most important thing he knows is that the handsome gege with a white forehead ribbon is rich.

Obviously You Hate Me, by Sarehz

Wei Wuxian leans across the round table. "Okay, this isn't going to work."

From across the very same table, Lan Wangji raises one puzzled eyebrow. "Mn?"

"This!" Wei Wuxian gestures between them.

Begotten, by ecorie (6 chapters)

“He’s mine.” He echoed what had once been teasingly said in jest, and added, “This is my son.”

Against all odds and without a choice, Lan Zhan brings A-Yuan back to Cloud Recesses. Xichen keeps his brother’s secrets, and shields the child when Lan Zhan could not.

Alone Stands the Quiet, by ecorie

The story of the Yin Iron starts with a celestial war and ends with Lan Sizhui.

A Good Plan, by nirejseki

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

The Late Great Custody Debate, by stiltonbasket (5 chapters)

"You owe me child support," Lan Zhan blurts, before Wei Wuxian can open his mouth to say hello to him. "Take responsibility."

Or, the one where Lan Wangji's pet rabbit has a better love life than he does, and single father Wei Wuxian develops a healthy fear of attorneys, courtesy of his next-door neighbor.

Switcheroo, by nirejseki

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

A Kiss for you, my love, by Speechless_since_1998

"Ladies and gentlemen."

Suddenly the attention of the whole hall turned to Nie Huaisang, near the orchestra with a microphone in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, "On this wonderful evening I would like to share with you all the happiness I feel. for a wonderful couple who got married today. " Wait a minute did he say marriage? He must have heard right, even Lan Zhan had stiffened. “Let's give him a wonderful round of applause. To Wei Ying and Lan Zhan newlyweds. " Hot shit. They weren't supposed to attract attention.

The attention of the room focused on them, whispers in the crowd, some scandalized, some excited. Nie Huaisang motioned for him to keep the game, but what was she supposed to do ?! "Lan Zhan, we mustn't ..." He didn't have time to finish the sentence as Lan Zhan kissed him. In front of everyone.

Soulmates, by Yacs_Weasley

Ever since he was a little boy, Wangji had longed to find his soulmate.

Stay with me, by KatAnni

Sizhui's memories come to him in pieces, and some of them in dreams. This time, he dreams of Wei Wuxian putting him in a tree. He runs to the Jingshi immediately, to find his Baba.

The truth, by syriala (first in a series)

“Do you even remember a single person of those you killed after the war?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng turns his glare on him.

“Why should I?” Jiang Cheng asks and a fearful hush falls over the crowd. “Do any of you remember even a single person you killed in your lives?” he asks them and is met with a pretty telling silence.

“You’re a monster,” someone whispers, but in the quiet it rings out loud and clear.

Jiang Cheng has heard these words a lot in the past sixteen years, and so he simply smiles at them, even though they sting like always.

He reminds himself that the people that matter know the truth, that they know him for who he truly is, and that it has to be enough.

Boys, by nirejseki

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?”

“If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.”

That sounded like a recitation.

“Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

Loss, by FlutterFyre

Lan Wangji knows something is wrong.

Hearsay, by syriala (second in a series)

“A girl went missing a few days back,” Wei Wuxian says, voice serious, and Jiang Cheng can just imagine the accusatory look on his face. “Coincidentally you were seen in that area during the same time.”

“So?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and Wei Wuxian makes a frustrated sound.

“What did you do with her?” Wei Wuxian asks him, even though he clearly already made up an answer for himself.

An ally, by syriala (third in a series)

“I just don’t want you to force yourself to face them,” Jiang Cheng finally says and Jiang Xiuying smiles at him.

“I’m not forcing myself. I am going on my own free will. It will be fine. And besides, Lan Xichen was never the reason I left.”

“But he didn’t stop you either,” Jiang Cheng mutters, and then rolls his eyes. “Fine. Accompany me, see if I care.”

“All I see is you caring,” Jiang Xiuying honestly gives back and Jiang Cheng flushes bright red.

Escalation, by syriala (fourth in a series)

“How can you lie to him like that?” Lan Wangji wants to know but it seems to be morbid curiosity more than anything else, because he goes right on. “You’re coming with me to the Cloud Recesses. There will be a trial.”

“A trial,” Jiang Cheng scoffs out, because it’s a farce and nothing more.

Lan Wangji has already decided on his sentence. And they all know it's going to be death.

Resolve, by syriala (fifth in a series)

“Regarding the accusations made against me today,” he starts and cuts his glare over to Sect Leader Yao, who has the good grace to shrink back at the venom in that glare, “I have something to say.”

“Speak,” Lan Wangji demands, but he doesn’t sound too sure all of a sudden, doesn’t seem too happy with the proceedings, and Jiang Cheng does rather enjoy the feeling of triumph it brings him.

“I am innocent. I did not kill any demonic cultivators, nor did I torture them.”

His voice rings out in the courtyard because everyone is silent for two seconds, but then chaos erupts. The voices calling him a liar are the kinder ones, and Jiang Cheng shakes his head at them.

“And I have proof,” he continues, raising his voice so that it carries over the others.

Devotion - Gather, by syriala (sixth in a series)

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks, because for once he is in no immediate danger of being murdered by the other Sects and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t think that look is fair.

“You absolute asshole,” Jiang Xiuying hisses at him and Jiang Cheng knows that if he wasn’t injured Jiang Xiuying would try to slap him over the head or shake him until he sees sense.

“What? What did I do now?” Jiang Cheng wants to know because he was asleep! There is no way he could have done something to upset Jiang Xiuying like this!

“I don’t even know where to start,” Jiang Xiuying says and starts to pace Jiang Cheng’s room, without giving any thought to the fact that this is Jiang Cheng’s bedroom and he really shouldn’t be here.

Well, Jiang Cheng is not going to say that to him, because with the mood Jiang Xiuying is in right now it wouldn’t go over well for Jiang Cheng, Sect Leader or not. Not that he actually cares anyway.

It’s Jiang Xiuying after all.

Home in Lotus Pier, by syriala (seventh in a series)

Jiang Cheng's angry frown turns into a confused frown when he sits down for breakfast and finds a box next to his bowl of congee.

“What is this?” he asks into the room, because someone is bound to be around, but he doesn’t get an answer and Jiang Cheng heaves out a sigh.

He tugs the box close and opens it and he’s surprised to find that his favourite tea is in it. It’s hard to come by lately, as it is entirely seasonal and only grown in a small spot in Sect Leader Yao’s territory, and after everything that happened at the Cloud Recesses a few months back, he already mentally said goodbye to it.

He wouldn’t be getting any more supplies from Sect Leader Yao after all, so this is more than surprising.

But the gifts don't stop there.

Parallelism, not equivalence, by DreamaholicsAnonymous

Wei Wuxian reminded him of Xingchen, Song Lan thinks, not for the first time.

Bring Your Secrets, Bring Your Scars, by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (fourth in a series)

Nie MingJue keeps his promises.

All Your Madness, I Will Tame, by Terri Botha (Isilwath) (fifth in a series)

Wen Qing in the Burial Mounds.

Puppy, by Speechless_since_1998

Returning home, Lan Zhan found his husband hiding behind the sofa and A-Yuan sitting on the ground playing with a puppy dog.

The puppy must have been a few months old, probably hadn't even been weaned. It was harmless, but Wei Ying didn't care. It was enough that it was a dog to be afraid.

“Ah, Lan Zhan! You finally arrived! Take that monster away!" Wei Ying pleaded, refusing to come out of hiding.

A-Yuan puffed out her cheeks, "Shiro is not a monster!"

Heaven, he had already given it a name.

Being Good, by ricochet

Lan Wangji tries to be good.

no shadow can touch, by sunflowersfield

When it is time to hand out the mics, Lan Zhan forces himself to lower his expectations. Their exchange will be fleeting, and Wei Ying will barely even look at him.

Or: Wei Ying is cast in a musical at his local community center. Lan Zhan is the theater technician.

make a mess (inside my heart), by avenqelic

Wei Wuxian looked comfortable against Lan Wangji’s white sheets, curled up in his blankets. Lan Wangji’s chest ached, mind swirling with possibilities – falling asleep looking into Wei Wuxian’s eyes, waking up in his arms, holding each other close as the moon shifted across the sky and the sun rose.

Finding a way home, by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens

Prompt idea for a less than one thousand words one shot! Lwj walks into a coffee shop and barista wwx cannot stop flirting with him while both of them are dying on the inside because the other is so handsome! Wwx writes his number on the cup! Up to you if lwj has an existencial crisis after finding the number or if he even finds the number. Bonus points if the oneshot ends with lwj going back to the cafe and wwx smiles at him when he sees him! — this is a.a. now with a prompt

DanTian - Planting Gentians (LWJ POV), by ArchiveWriter (1 chapter plus art)

Wei Ying's been up their old mountain early in the morning. Wangji does needlework and indulges in watching Wei Ying's hands. A slice of domestic contentment because I like them happy.

Tease, by annjellybean

Now, Wei Ying had long outgrown teasing his husband mercilessly the way he used to back in their childhood days, they had been through so much since then, he had honestly forgotten how to do so. That being said, it did not mean Wei Ying had completely forgotten his gremlin roots, and as a self-proclaimed gremlin husband, today he wanted to tease.

Pure Morning, by ShizunThirst

It’s on mornings like these that Lan Wangji can love Wei Wuxian the way he deserves to be loved.

deeper etchings, by fensandmarshes

“And remember, a-Yuan,” comes the voice, lowered but still loud as though it shuns the petty boundaries of the house, “you absolutely cannot tell diedie about this.”

Lan Wangji pauses, there in the middle of the portal array, halfway through setting down his bag, and tilts his head just slightly.

Caring Warmth, by MountainMist

Wei Ying is sick and lonely. Head empty only Lan Zhan.

And how Lan Zhan takes care of him.

just them, together., by adeptiwings

It was okay, now that it was just them.

the boy with rabbit ears, by dragontea

Lan Zhan got lost in an amusement park and found his way home in the company of the boy with rabbit ears.

heart-shaped knots, by twigofwillow

There’s been a ghost in Cloud Recesses for over thirty years, but no one has talked to her until now.

Setting Suns and Dawning Realisations, by wereworm

Wei Wuxian's plans for a romantic night out in Caiyi with Lan Zhan are ruined when he works late, the sun already setting by the time he makes his way home to the Jingshi. Instead, they enjoy a quiet night in and Wei Wuxian comes to terms with the peace that he'd fought so hard to earn and the life that's he's finally allowed to have.

[For the prompt: a sweet wangxian date night in]

Won This For You, by Preludian_Staves

He looks up as his husband comes into the room with something suspiciously large hidden behind his back.

A single soul (no more), by Lysdance1

The core transfer surgery goes as in canon BUT it leaves the spiritual link open between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian and, well, what goes one way can go both ways.

"It's what keeps him (mostly) sane, a tether in this dark place where he cannot feed and cannot sleep and cannot escape; through the link he feels - trickles of love, Jiang Cheng's worry for him. It shouldn't be enough, but somehow, in this dark, dark place, it is. It reminds him, faintly, of home, and in the dark he hears the rhythm of one, luminous, far away soul."

To Need Someone, by Preludian_Staves

"A-die?"

"Hm?"

"What does mean to need someone? To want them with you?"

Approval, by Speechless_since_1998

"You look tired, "he said, sipping his tea. He shouldn't, it wasn't kind. But he couldn't resist teasing him a little.

Lan Zhan stared at him blankly, "I've been drinking."

"I saw."

"I kissed Wei Ying."

"I saw that too."

And thanks to the gods there was no uncle because he hated worldly occasions, otherwise he would have a heart attack.

"We had sex at his adoptive parents' home."

"And?"

Lan Zhan raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you surprised?"

"Oh, sorry, now I'll try again ... Really? !!"

"You're not funny."

Unfinished:

Not Rated:

An Obsidian Among Jades, by bluebeads

What happens when a sad lost mantou cheeked Lan Zhan teams up with a cheerful one to find his family in the unfamiliar streets of Yilling. A Yu Ziyuan Ultimatum AU which I submitted a while ago on angstymdzsthoughts Also a Gusu Lan Sect Wei Wuxian.

I've had enough, by pluma1007

He is ascending. They’re minds unhelpfully supplied.

Then, Wei Wuxian is gone.

The cultivators are in disarray.

“Wei Wuxian… Wei Wuxian ascended!”

“How can this be?! A monster ascended?!”

“No! My core! My powers had diminished!”

Hearing that, the cultivators checked their cores. Gasps rang out the mountains. Enraged cries are heard, cursing Wei Wuxian. There are also those who kowtowed, praying for forgiveness. There are others who praised him.

Song of Joy and Regrets, by HelloKitten

The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..."

"Do they all involve him being bait?"

"Yes" came deadpanned responses.

Hua Cheng is not amused.

Rated E:

the long way back home, by Misila

Wei Ying always knew he was the single discordant note in the Jiang household. That was why, after graduating from university, he didn’t return home. With him gone, Yu Ziyuan wouldn’t have anyone to compare her son to, and Jiang Fengmian wouldn’t have to keep avoiding his own family to prevent further conflict.

…Right?

(Seven years later, married to the man of his life and with a four year-old son, Wei Ying returns to his hometown and tries to reconnect with his siblings and befriend his nephew; but, most of all, he struggles to figure out what’s wrong with his brother and how to help him, despite Jiang Cheng not wanting to have anything to do with him anymore.)

Will You Stand Beside Me, by trashgavin

Wei Wuxian takes all his strength and spits blood in Wen Chao’s face. His eyes narrow and he speaks, though his voice is quiet and full of pain.

“Go to hell.”

It only makes Wen Chao laugh. He releases his hair and stands to his feet. “Bring me a whip.”

Rated M:

For the Dust and the Dirt, by Nyxelestia

His breath came out in shaky gasps, but still he could do nothing as the demonic copy of himself brought the blade down to the bare skin of Wei Wuxian’s uninjured shoulder. He whimpered when he felt a small cut, then when the blade lifted. He didn’t have time to even think of relief before it came back, right next to the first cut in a different direction, then again below in a line, multiple small lines in multiple directions like…like a character.

“Like I said,” the demon mused as Wei Wuxian realized what it was doing. “I’ll write it down for you.”

A brutal assault on a Cloud Recesses student leaves the Cultivation world reeling. Wei Wuxian struggles to recover, while everyone else tries to make sense of an ominous message. But since when do demons care about sect politics, anyway?

Between Wen Ruohan's rising aggression, simmering tensions across the guest disciples, and the mysterious fierce corpses still popping up all over the place, Wei Wuxian would rather ignore the confusing, horrifying visions the demon left him with.

If only the demon's taunting predictions didn't keep coming true at every turn.

I Know How Those in Exile Feed on Dreams of Hope, by rabbit_habits & saltedpin

“What does it mean, that Wen Ruohan has all the Yin Iron?” Jiang Cheng asked, dragging himself up into a sitting position – her medicines must have worked quickly, because his ribs gave only a twinge when he moved.

Wen Qing settled down beside him, head bowed as she packed away her supplies, her shoulder brushing his arm when she moved. “It means that no one in the cultivation world can oppose him,” she whispered.

—

Canon divergence AU in which Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are captured by the Wens after escaping from the Xuanwu's cave, before they can return to rescue Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Misunderstood, by Silver_Flame_2724

There is something called a memory ball that shows the memories of a chosen person.

In order to further incriminate the already dead Yiling Patriarch, the cultivation world decides to use this memory ball at the next Discussion Conference to show how evil the demonic cultivator can truly be.

What appears, though, truly shocks them all.

laughing shadow, by ich_bin_ein_stern

During the commotion involving Wei Wuxian, A-Ling refused little sleep. His screams carried across Koi Tower, putting wailing ghosts too shame. He was inconsolable by everyone. It was only when Jin Zixuan unintentionally passed the room holding Wei Wuxian while trying to calm down his son did A-Ling miraculously settle down. Since then, he has slept peacefully every night. Yanli expressed, in the quiet and security of their bedroom, that perhaps Wei Wuxian's spirit soothed A-Ling and continues to do so.

At the least expected times, Jin Zixuan swears he can hear the distant sound of a flute.

But when he stops to actually listen for it, he hears nothing.

Come From My Inkstone, by magicgenetek

“So your plan,” Nie Mingjue said dubiously, “is to move into the Burial Mounds to write and illustrate erotica about you and Lan Wangji seducing the Yiling Patriarch to earn his trust and sell the public on the idea that he's not a threat, then convince him to give up the Yin Tiger Seal?"

“The way I said it sounded better,” Nie Huaisang said. “And you forgot the part about me seducing the Ghost General, that is crucial.”

“I hate this, and as your brother, I am begging you not to actually stick it in a fierce corpse. How much money do you need?”

Rated T:

Here We Go Again, by Alliandra

He looked over to where the swordswoman was still fighting, but her focus seemed entirely locked onto that fight so it was unlikely that she could have had anything to do with the energy drain. He was still wracking his brain for something else to do to assist, so this thing didn’t kill them both, but now he was feeling weak, dizzy and currently not far from helpless.

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been several months since the events at the Guanyin temple and Wei Wuxian is wandering around on his own. After he helps a stranger kill a very dangerous beast he uncovers what seems to be a conspiracy aimed at ending his life. He heads back to Cloud Recesses with his new companion in tow, looking to get Lan Wanji's help in working out what is involved.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling made a surprising discovery under Koi Tower that may well be linked to the threat against Wei Wuxian's life.

Can they all work together to find out what is going on and put a stop to it, before something disastrous occurs?

A place of Gold, by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens

A few days after Wei Wuxian has parted from Lan Wangji on a forest path, he gets surrounded by Jin officials in an Inn, who formally ask him to return to Jinlintai to fill in the position of Sect Leader, as is his right and duty.

Wei Wuxian thinks it is an artful prank. Until it is not.

Blossoming flowers in a full moon - 花好月圆, by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens

What if Wei Wuxian wasn’t able to get out of Lan Wangji’s grip at the cliff in Nevernight? What if Lan Wangji refused to let go?

All will be well when the day is done, by abCEE

The one where Yu Ziyuan time traveled but she thought that it was her visions of her alternate life.

She learned that there is a brat named Wei Ying who brought destruction to her and her family's life.

And so in her present, she vowed that she will never allow that to happen.

In which Yu Ziyuan found the four-year-old Wei Ying, newly pushed out of the inn where his parents left him, and decided that no, this child must never be associated with her, her family, and their sect at all.

And so Yu Ziyuan thought that she could bring him somewhere where someone may or may not find him but definitely far from where her husband could find him. If he's lucky, he'll survive that winter, if he's not, then death awaits the fevered child.

This is the extent of mercy that Yu Ziyuan could give a child.

With this, she'll raise her children without having to deal with a brat that brings trouble where he goes according to her visions of her alternate life.

Like the tag stated, this is definitely not Yu Ziyuan centric.

Rated G:

How Jin Zixuan Helps Everyone, by BryxcrSt

The Yunmeng Heroes, Twin Jades, Nie Huaisang, The Peacock, Cinnamon Roll Ghost General and Lan Qiren suddenly transport back to the past before the Conference in Qishan, with their very memory of how all their clans battled Wen Rouhan's and now they're all ready to prevent it from happening now that they're back to the past. Especially Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian.

Surprisingly, Jin Zixuan wants to help them instead of standing out of the front line like how he used to but what can he do?

To Repeat, Repay, and Repair, by adrian_kres

Wei Wuxian has died again and his family grieves. Lan Sizhui, now married and with children of his own, grieves the loss of both fathers, as Lan Wangji has entered seclusion. But somehow, he unknowingly sends himself back to the time he spent in the Burial Mounds at three years old. Will his family take his confused, nonsensical warnings seriously? Are they doomed to repeat the same fate?

[sidecarghost]

Destiel fluff is [watching westerns on Dean’s laptop while sitting up in bed together] [eye rolls when Dean is being frustrating or Cas is being obstinate] [holding eye contact to tell each other things they can’t properly verbalize] [shoving each other into walls and pinning each other] [Cas growling and Dean sucking hickeys into Cas’s neck] [wrestling each other to the ground without either of them giving an inch to the other] [pinching and biting and groping being indulged in by both] [Dean being touch-starved and Cas wanting nothing more than to hold on to Dean forever] [relaxing on the couch with Dean resting his head on Cas’s lap, and Cas carding his fingers through Dean’s hair] [a rerun of a Dr. Sexy episode playing on the tv that has Cas complaining about unresolved plot holes and ooc absurdity] [Dean arguing against Cas’s reasoning because he enjoys pushing Cas’s buttons] [Cas getting worked up until he realizes that Dean is deliberately goading him] [Cas shoving Dean off the couch and Dean laughing over Cas’s prior righteous fury] [Cas raising an eyebrow at Dean that kills Dean’s laughter and has him gazing back at Cas until his lips go dry] [Dean licking his lips and the heated kisses from Cas that follow] [meeting Saileen to go bowling on a double date where upon Sam and Dean get very competitive about beating each other’s scores] [Eileen getting the highest score because she is a badass, and Cas getting the lowest because Cas would rather have Dean rub up against him to show Cas proper form than knock over a bunch of wooden pins] [holding hands walking back from the farmer’s market on a breezy day where Cas’s trench coat is tousled by the wind] [lightly kissing each other’s knuckles while holding hands] [Jack drawing pictures in crayon of his family that are hung on the fridge] [Jack drawing Cas with rainbow wings and Dean with black Batman wings] [Dean stopping himself from telling Jack that Batman has a cape and not wings because the wings look badass] [Jack drawing Sam and Eileen playing catch with Miracle] [and Jack drawing Kaia and Claire carrying decapitated vampires to burn in a bonfire that Jack drew himself standing beside roasting marshmallows] [Cas falling into the habit of calling things awesome and Dean falling into the habit of saying something is not of import] [Dean nuzzling his face in the crook of Cas’s neck while Cas bakes] [Dean planting kisses along Cas’s neck and nipping at Cas’s earlobe] [Cas humming while Dean is kissing him] [Jack collecting fresh eggs from their chickens to cook pancakes] [Jack using his god powers to put out a stovetop fire when he can’t find the fire extinguisher] [Dean telling Jack that he will teach Jack how to cook] [Dean cooking for Cas even though Cas doesn’t need to eat] [Cas savoring every bite of food that Dean cooks] [Cas being grumpy if he is awake early, because he is not a morning person] [Dean being careful not to disturb Cas, when he gets up at dawn to take Jack fishing] [Cas finding a fresh pot of coffee after waking up, because Dean set the coffeemaker’s timer to brew before he left] [Cas texting Dean emojis to express his happiness and love] [Dean responding with an emoji keysmash because Cas always smiles over them] [Cas weeding their vegetable garden when Jack and Dean get back home] [Dean showing Cas a photo on his phone of the really big fish that Jack caught, because Jack wanted to release the trophy fish to go back to its family] [listening to the Led Zeppelin mixtape Dean made Cas on a stereo cassette player Cas purchased from a thrift store] [Cas bringing his mixtape and stereo outside to play quietly every time he is tending to their garden, their chickens, or their honeybees] [Cas letting Dean pull him away from his work, so they can lie beside each other in the shade of a tree and watch the clouds roll by overhead] [falling asleep nuzzled together in mid-afternoon cradled by blue sky and green grass, while rock music is still audible from a cassette tape playing on a loop in Cas’s stereo]

[socially-awkward05]

In Six Summers' Time

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36206644/chapters/90253972

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14018130/0

Chapter 3

3 September 1996

Hermione had always enjoyed crossword puzzles.

She'd done them frequently when she was younger, sitting in the waiting room at her parents' practice and reading every magazine she could get her hands on, filling in the crosswords with one of the crayons from the kids' corner.

So, as she sat staring absent-mindedly at the three words on the scrap of paper she'd been given by her defence professor the previous evening, she couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to them, some hidden message that only an experienced crossword solver would notice.

The meeting had gone well.

She'd explained to Professor Tamper what exactly she wanted to know - advanced battle transfiguration and charms, healing spells and potions - even going so far as to bring up the animagus transformation. She'd been shocked to discover that the professor was, in fact, an animagus, although he'd refused to tell her what animal he was (while giving her an amused smirk that, she reflected, she'd found quite sexy).

She shook her head. She really shouldn't think that of her professor.

At the end of their session, Hermione had, on the spur of the moment and for absolutely no logical reason she could think of, asked the professor to write his full name - middle name and all - down for her.

She really did not know what had possessed her to do it. But he had acquiesced…

… which led her back to the piece of paper she held in her hand.

Arty Josher Tamper.

It seemed perfectly normal.

It was perfectly normal.

But something about it bothered Hermione, and the small part of her that still held that childhood dream of being a detective just wouldn't let it be.

So, she continued to stare at it, nibbling on the end of her quill as it hovered above a seperate piece of parchment.

Arty Josher Tamper.

What was it?

Then it hit her.

With the speed of a racing freight train, every thread of thought, every idea, every conspiracy, every rumour surrounding the new defence professor suddenly became a crystal clear image in her mind.

With a ferocity no one in the Hogwarts library had ever seen before, Hermione scribbled down two names - two names that held so much hope, so much joy - and, oh so carefully - it all came together.

Before her eyes, letters joined and rearranged, until the proof of her completely wild, ludicrous idea sat physically before her.

She was stunned.

After all this time…

She checked her watch. It was nearly breakfast.

Hoping desperately that he hadn't gone down to the Great Hall yet, she shoved her belongings into her bag and took off sprinting down the corridors.

…::-::....

Harry had experienced many things in his 21 years of life.

Being slammed into by the force of a speeding bullet wasn't one of them.

Luckily, the projectile wasn't lethal.

He hoped.

It was also very unexpected, because only a moment before he'd been standing up to make his way down to breakfast.

Instead, he found that a positively hysterical Hermione had attached herself to him, and was speaking so quickly that he couldn't understand a word she was saying.

Sighing mentally, he waved his wand towards the door to close it, and set up some privacy and silencing wards to prevent unwanted ears from listening in.

He had a feeling he'd need them.

Once that was done, he turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, please, I can't understand a word you're saying. It's also very difficult to move when you're squeezing the life out of me."

She immediately stopped talking and let him go, although, judging by the look on her face, he wasn't sure that it was any better.

In contrast to the way she had entered, her face had begun to redden in what he could only assume was righteous fury.

"Don't you dare 'Miss Granger' me, Harry James Potter!" she screeched, "Yes, I know it's you, don't look so surprised! Did you seriously think I wouldn't figure it out? Do you know how much you hurt me, how much you hurt everyone, just up and disappearing like that with absolutely no contact whatsoever?! Everyone thinks you're dead! I cried over you, Harry! How could you?!"

She then burst into tears.

Harry, completely stunned and at a loss for words, didn't know what to do.

Hermione was crying, and he really wanted to comfort her, let her know that he was safe and sound and that nothing had happened to him, but, at the same time, he had a feeling that that would end up with him being slapped - or worse.

Swallowing his fear, he reached towards her and pulled her forwards into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, feeling rather tearful himself, "I never intended to hurt you, or anyone else, and I certainly didn’t expect to stay away as long as I did.”

She sniffled in response, and buried herself further into his chest.

He almost chuckled in relief.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation, don’t I?” Harry asked, feeling grateful that it was a Saturday and he didn’t have any classes to teach.

“You had better!” she replied, finally looking up at him, her tears having subsided for the moment, “Or so help me, I’ll kill you myself!”

“I’d better start then.”

He let her go, and gestured to one of the two plush armchairs that stood before his desk.

Hermione seated herself in one, and did the same in the other opposite her.

They sat like that for a good five minutes, looking over each other and really taking note of the changes that had occurred since they’d last talked.

For Hermione, it had been a year.

For Harry, it had been six.

It was Harry who spoke first.

“I’ll go from the beginning then?”

Hermione nodded.

“Well, in that case, I suppose it starts on the night my parents were murdered. As you know, Wormtail gave their location to Voldemort, who then came and tried to kill me, murdering them in the process. But, in discovering this, we all neglected to ask one very important question; Why was he after me in the first place? For that answer, we have to go back a few months to when Dumbledore was interviewing one Sybil Trelawney for the Divination post at Hogwarts. It took place in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, a very public place, I might add. Anyway, the interview hadn’t gone well, and Dumbledore was about to dismiss her when she suddenly went into a trance-like state and began to recite a prophecy – a true prophecy. It went like this; ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…’ '”

Harry paused for a moment, watching as the gears whirred in Hermione’s head and her mouth dropped open.

He continued, “There were two babies born at the end of July that year whose parents had defied Voldemort three times – Neville Longbottom and myself. However, Voldemort had a spy listening in on the interview that night. Fortunately, he left before hearing the full prophecy, but he certainly heard enough to relay to his master and put into place a cycle of actions that led to my parents’ deaths and Neville’s parents’ insanity.”

He looked up at Hermione to gauge her reaction. She had tears in her eyes and a hand covering her mouth, upset and in shock.

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “And now we come to the summer before 5th year. It went pretty much as expected up until the exact stroke of midnight on my birthday. I’d had a nightmare a few minutes earlier – about the Third Task, you know? Anyway, I was awake, staring miserably out of the window when Hedwig flew in with a letter for me.” He chuckled, “I really didn’t know what it meant at the time, but it made sense a few moments later when, without warning, I was suddenly transported away from my bedroom at Privet Drive along with Hedwig and all of my possessions.”

“What did it say?” Hermione asked, seeming to have overcome her shock in favour of curiosity, “Where did you go? Is that where you’ve been all this time? Why do you look so much older?”

“Hang on, I’m getting there,” Harry said, laughing at her enthusiasm, “The note said, and I quote, ‘Get ready – it’s going to be a bumpy ride!’ Not that it helped. As for where I went, well, I’m not sure you’d really believe me if I told you. But yes, it is where I’ve been all this time and, as for why I look older, well I am older. Physically, and I suppose mentally as well, I’m 21 years old.”

“But how is that possible?” Hermione asked, “Please tell me where you went! You know I’ll take you seriously!”

“Alright,” Harry chuckled, “I went back in time. Or, more accurately, I was taken back in time – by the Founders of Hogwarts.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, and for once she seemed unable to find the right words.

“The Founders?” she spluttered, “You mean The Hogwarts Founders? Godric Gryffindor? Rowena Ravenclaw? Salazar Slytherin? Helga Huffelpuff? You actually met them?”

Harry smirked, “Well, ‘met’ is a bit too weak of a term. They adopted me, you see.”

“What?!”

He nodded, “The reason they brought me back to their time is rather complicated. You see, they were in possession of a rather special mirror. It was one passed down to them by Merlin, and it allowed them to look into the future. Through it, they saw me, and all the things I’d been through at school. However, they also saw what I didn’t – what our future would be like had they not brought me back to the past. So, knowing that, they took it upon themselves to train me.”

“They taught you?!” Hermione squealed.

“They founded a school didn’t they? Yes, they taught me. Not just transfiguration, potions and the like but also other things I would need to survive and defeat Voldemort - Advanced DADA, Occlumency, Legilimency , Offensive magic and even sword-fighting and the animagus transformation. In total, I spent six years with them. Shortly before I left, they asked me if I was okay with being adopted by them. We'd grown very close in the time we spent together, so of course I said 'yes'."

"That's incredible, Harry!" his friend exclaimed, "Being taught by the Founders themselves must have been amazing! Do you think you could teach me?"

"You asked me to tutor you, didn't you?" he grinned.

"Technically, I asked Professor Tamper to tutor me."

He flapped his hand at her, "Same difference."

Harry's expression suddenly became solemn, and he leaned forwards, "Hermione, if I'm going to teach you, I must ask you to take an oath that you won't reveal anything you learn - including my identity."

Hermione began to protest, but he held up his hand, cutting her off.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he explained, "It's only because an oath will prevent anyone trying to steal the information from you - either by Legilimency or Vitaserum."

Her mouth snapped shut. "Oh, then of course I will. But, I must ask, Harry, why is it so important that your identity stays secret? Why are you hiding?"

Harry leaned back in his seat, "Well, for one thing, I like the anonymity. 'Harry Potter' is always in the spotlight, always noticed, always looked to. 'Arty Tamper', however, can observe silently from the background without being noticed, and can do things and help people without being criticised. Also, it provides a tactical advantage for me over Voldemort. If he thinks I'm dead, he won't be expecting me to kill him, will he?"

Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Alright," she agreed, "I'll do it."

"Brilliant," Harry grinned, standing up, "Do you know how it works?"

"I know the wording," she admitted, moving to stand before him, "but that's all."

"I'll show you."

Harry held his hand out to her. Hermione grasped it firmly.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, swear to uphold and protect the secrets of Harry James Potter, unless he gives his permission for you to discuss them?"

"I so swear it."

"Then as it is said, so mote it be."

There was a small flash as the path took hold. They smiled at each other.

Harry pulled Hermione into a hug, "I missed you, 'Mione."

"Me too, Harry," she replied, squeezing him tightly, "Me too."

I thank my Grandpa for the crossword inspiration. It was in helping him that I got the idea that clues can involve anagrams.

Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. Please comment and give me your feedback. I'd really appreciate it 🥰

Love ya, guys!

Prologue:

https://socially-awkward05.tumblr.com/post/673031931808694272/in-six-summers-time

Chapter 1:

https://socially-awkward05.tumblr.com/post/673032575016747008/in-six-summers-time

Chapter 2:

https://socially-awkward05.tumblr.com/post/673033566217764864/in-six-summers-time

[sif-the-tsunami]

Hello friends,

This is a small sample of the fantasy series I’ve been working on for a few years. I would love to get some kind of feedback. Positive, negative. Lay it on me. I want to know what you think.

This is a rough draft, barely edited. 

Summary: A young warrior starts the path to her destiny. 

Rated: PG-13, this will probably read like YA but there wont be any sexy times. Just talks about violence and death (this doesn’t mean that people under 18 can start interacting with my blog. I mostly post smut.)

The attack on Dawnforge came without warning. Raiders, dozens of them, descended upon the small community surrounding a rural temple. The invaders poured violently out of the woods. In the cool shade of the temple’s grove, Ellisif Thrace’s mossy green eyes shot open from her late afternoon nap when she heard the Keepers sound the alarm. The war horns had only been blown ceremonially for as long as she could remember. The second blast echoed off the stone walls and summoned her to action. The young woman sat strait up, and listened for another moment to see if she could find out what direction the alarm was coming from.  She thought she could hear the Keepers shouting towards the east although she couldn’t make out what they were saying just yet. Always eager to be of assistance, Ellisif picked up her belongings and started running towards the commotion. Ellie, as she preferred to be addressed, had been learning defense and fighting techniques since she was strong enough to pick up a sword. Her father had been a knight errant and thought it was important that his children should know how to keep themselves safe.

Another blast of the horn let her know she was running in the right direction. Soon she heard the sound of weapons being thrown and bashed into the thick wooden gate. The Keepers were directing the villagers to leave the area, a man that Ellisif thought was named Erik told her to go home. He couldn’t have been much older than she was, his skin was sun kissed, with a little pink on his temples and cheekbones. Erik looked scared, brushing his reddish blond hair out of his face.

“I’m here to help, give me a sword!” She shouted.

“Little Sister, you need to go somewhere safe.” Erik ordered. As he was saying this, the Commander put his hand on her shoulder.

“Erik, Ellie is to join the Order at the Feast of Lyria. Let her pick up a shield, if they make it through our defenses, she knows how to handle herself.” The older man told Erik. He handed their recruit a wooden shield with metal studs, “Ellisif, make your father proud.”

Erik rolled his eyes as the Commander went to go hand out more tools. “They are going to break through in a matter of minutes. Take an ax. If they make it past us, cut the fuckers down. And don’t you dare get killed.”

Ellie pulled the cord she had on her wrist to tie her hair back. Her thick dark chocolate brown curls were pulled back out of her face and she said a small prayer to her favorite Goddess. I don’t want to have to kill anyone, but if I do, please let me do it quickly. Her heart pounded in her throat, her trepidation rose with every new crack emerging from the gate. The wood finally gave way, and she watched the horde of mismatched heathens break into her town. The Keepers had set up as much of a barricade as they could. Carts where pushed on their sides trying to create a funnel and direct the invaders to the villages best fighters and war priests. The Archers were doing what they could to thin out the herd. Ellisif inched closer to the battle, she tightened her grip on the handle of her ax just in time for a raider to jump over the stack of crates that had been near where she was standing. She raised her shield to the long sword he was swinging at her and it became stuck in the hard wood. Then it was as if her brain shut off and her body took over.

The warrior would never truly be able to recall everything that happened that afternoon. The surviving Keepers would tell her that she was brave, surgical with her actions and moved like she had been doing this all her life. In her state of shock, she would just say she had really good teachers. They would congratulate her for surviving her first battle. They thanked her for saving lives that day. Not a single invader made it past where she stood her ground.

Ellie looked up at the white stone buildings that were beginning to glow pink with the setting of the sun. What would they do with the bodies, she wondered vaguely. She leaned against the warm stone wall and slid down. What should I be doing? She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make the sickness in her stomach go away.

“Where is she? Where is my sister, where is my Ellie?” a familiar voice was shouting. A couple of the Keepers pointed towards where she sat with her knees tucked to against her chest, her head resting on the wall behind her. Sarah thought she look more pale than normal.

“I’m right here.” Ellie croaked. Her throat was so dry. The healers had looked at her briefly, said she would be fine but to be prepared that she would probably have some pretty bad bruising on her forearms.

“Oh my Gods, why are you covered in blood? We’ve been so worried! Mama is going to skin you alive. Are you hurt? What were you thinking?” The thin woman stammered together as she fretted over her younger sister.

“I’m fine, the blood’s not mine. At least I don’t think so.” Ellie said, “What was I thinking? I was thinking that this is what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to run toward the fight. Do you have your water on you? I need a drink...”

The Commander strutted over like the fine peacock he was and pressed a bottle of ale into Ellie’s open hand and said something about how proud he was. She didn’t care. Ellie just wanted to be able to swallow without her throat feeling like sandpaper. The strawberry ale was sweet and warm, it made swallowing a little easier but after the third mouthful it became clear that the ale was doing nothing for her nausea. There might have been something said to her about how he was looking forward to seeing her take her oath, he chuckled and walked off. Sarah started trying to clean the viscera from her sister’s face but before she got too much grime off of her face, Ellisif turned her head and wretched.  She groaned, “Let’s go home.”

They walked home, arms wrapped around each other. It wouldn’t be until they reached their little home that Ellisif would start talking. The words slipped out of the young woman, still dazed. She looked down at the ax she was still holding onto with white knuckles and whispered “The one who gave this to me, Erik… I don’t know. He was killed. I killed someone today, Sarah. I killed several someones…”

Sarah, as gently as she could, wiped the tears off of her sister’s face, “You did what Daddy taught us to do. You helped keep our family safe, you kept or town safe. Lyria would be proud. She would be thrilled to know you will be defending her temple. Daddy would be so proud too.”

The older sister took her partner in crime into their house, and tucked the battle wary woman into her bed. The ax fell to the ground with a sickening thunk, and Ellie rolled over and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Sarah went to the kitchen and put a kettle on to brew some tea. Their mother, Kyra, had gone to the temple to help bandage up wounds of the Keepers and anyone else who took up arms. She eventually grabbing the heel of the loaf of bread from the pantry and slather it in homemade butter, pulling out her book of herbs. If Ellisif was more athletically inclined, her sister was definitely more well read. Sarah propped the book up and began plaiting her silky hair as she read the well loved tome. The front door opened quietly, the family’s matriarch came back after a long night of bandaging up injured young people and comforting the loved ones of those they lost.

“The Pale Mother now has a few more attendants now,” Kyra sighed, she and Sarah’s looks were similar, though she had more silver in her hair now. They both had dark brown eyes, almost black.  “Those poor souls. The Council and the High Priestess has asked that we all gather tomorrow at the Temple. They found their leader and they are interrogating him. He seemed to not understand that the forge our town was named after has been closed for generations, thought he could arm his merry band of miscreants. I heard Ellisif did her duty. How’s our girl doing?”

“She might have gone into emotional shock. I put her in bed, she’s going to need something strong in the morning. I was just reading up on something that will sooth her nerves, she was covered, and I mean covered, in blood. Evidently none of it was hers, which is good. Daddy taught her well. The Keepers were saying she showed a lot of potential.”

“Your father was the best knight I have ever seen wield a sword, I can only imagine what he taught her. The Temple will have never been safer if she is half as good as he was.” Kyra grabbed another hunk of bread and helped herself to some cheese. “I wish you could have seen him. I’ve never seen anyone burn with righteous fury like he could. When he would swing his sword in the tourneys he fought in, I swear that it looked like it was on fire. It was beautiful and absolutely terrifying. Ells has that same spark. When she was little, I saw it in her too.”

“I told her daddy would be proud.”

“He would be. He would also be profoundly sad for her. Sweetheart, you should go get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be very long.”

Ellisif slept until nightfall the next day. Siggy and Kyra left her to her mild unconsciousness to attend the meeting at noon. The temple slowly filled with the mourning villagers. More than a dozen Keepers had died that afternoon, it had been a decade since there had been any attacks on Dawnforge like this. It would be weeks before the damage the raiders did to the town could be repaired. The surviving raiders were told they could bury their dead on the other side of the ravine outside of the walls and then to assist the town in its repairs to try to make amends. The Thrace women where given the instruction on how they could help by the High Priestess. As soon as they where able to, Sarah and her sister would be going to the schoolhouse. They thought that having a couple extra adults around the kids would help make them feel safer.

Most of the school age kids knew Ellie. Two years ago she had won the combat tournament on the Feast of Seraphina, the Scarlet Mother. Usually the winners give the bouquet of fire Lilies to their significant other, she instead pulled out individual flowers and gave one to every little one who was around the ring that day. Her father had done the same thing the last time he had won the tournament. She enjoyed being their hero that afternoon, Sarah remembered as she and their mom walked home with their orders. The night of the feast, Ellie was asked attend the dance that was be held in the town square. Sarah had never seen her sister so happy as when she came home giggling, barefoot and a little in love.

When they made it to their home again, they saw evidence that Ellie had been up and moving but she was no where to be seen. Kyra suggested that they leave her be for the time being, they were kind in letting the young woman try to recover at her own pace. After a few days of her sleeping more heavily than she ever had, Ellisif needed to be in the forest behind the temple. She wanted to feel the presence of the Green Mother and ask her for guidance. There was a small clearing there, where a large stone acts as an alter for Lyria. It was a large piece of granite that always seemed to be covered with moss in all the directions, not just north. On the morning of Lyria’s feast day, the sun would align itself with this slab perfectly, and that is where she would be taking her vows to join the ranks of the Keepers. They were originally called the Temple Keepers, as the community grew, the area they kept safe grew with it. Once Ellie joined, she would be binding herself to the fate of the town. She could get married and have a family if she chose, but traveling would be almost impossible. If the Empire of Oril ever declared war on any of the other kingdoms, they were almost always the ones that were conscripted.  

While Ellie had wanted to become a Keeper for as long as she could remember, as of this morning, the idea of joining gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her mother had always talked about how even masters of their craft could have their confidence shaken if the seeds of doubt had taken root in their minds. Was this a seed a doubt she had been warned about?

“Lyria, divine mother, I come here to beg you for forgiveness. I never wanted take someone’s life. I thought they would yield if they got hurt. How could I have been so stupid...” and for the first time since the attack, Ellisif’s strength gave out. There she spent the rest of the day sobbing and trying to figure out what she needed to do. Her body shook violently as the waves of emotions crashed over her. In the back of her mind, a small notion crawled its way forward, seeping into her thoughts likes a strong tea in hot water. Devoting herself to the temple may not be the right choice. Ellie cleaned her face of the mess that the sobbing caused. The moon had risen, her family would be worried.

She made it into her home moments before they would begin searching for their missing member. There were hugs and more tears. They remained silent as Ellie made her way to her bed, she prepared herself for the night.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 9

<- Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 ->

@sexy-opium-ravioli​ asked me to write a comfort Frankenstein fic so instead I did this [stares at the camera] 

cw: suicidal ideation 

Heavy raindrops pound on the wood-shingle roof, each impact combining into a chorus that roars in your ears in the pitch-black darkness. It’s like you’re being swallowed by a great beast. The entire building creaks, straining against the wind, making your heart race with the fear that it might all come crashing down on top of you as you lay clutching the covers in bed.

A deafening crack and blinding surge of light is followed shortly by a second, earthier crack and a dull thud on grass. Lightning hit one of the trees in the pasture.

In the middle of this raging tempest through which no living being could survive, there comes a scratch at your shutter. The curtains flutter as wind suddenly swirls inside, and the roar of rain grows louder. Something is coming into your bedroom.

Another flash of lightning reveals the silhouette of a massive figure, drenched and dripping, standing in front of the window. The blast of thunder that shortly follows makes the enormous figure jump, and rush, trembling like a kitten, to your bedside.

You take his deformed and scarred hand in yours, and squeeze it.

“I do not like thunder,” his grave voice whispers through gasping, timid breaths. Your beautiful, sweet creature. You never want anything to hurt him. An aching sadness washes over you anew, quivering your lower lip.

He notices you are shaking, frantic, frazzled, and puffy-eyed. He doesn’t look much better.

“When you did not come, I feared for you.” He licks his lips nervously. “I ascertained that you were within the house, but were under guard, and I could not reach you. Please tell me you are unharmed—if anything has happened to you, I shall not forgive my cowardice.”

Without warning, a sob chokes you, and hot tears roll down your face. The monster, filling up half your small cottage bedroom, doffs his wet cloak and pulls your crying form against his warm, broad chest like an extension of the furniture and holds you, rubbing your back and cooing soft words of comfort. You hide your face against him, trying to disappear as muffled sobs wrack your shoulders.

“What is wrong?” he asks with a voice so fragile from your silence that the answer might break him.

“Just let me hold you for awhile. Please.”

You feel him shudder against you, and surround you in his warm arms like a cocoon. It’s a long time before you can collect yourself enough to tell him what happened.

*****

“Like hell we are!” you snapped impulsively as soon as Ferdinand announced your “engagement.” Your fists clenched into tight balls of righteous fury. He was delusional. You were leaving.

Then your father stared at you—that dark, severe stare that threatened violence if you did not behave. “Mind your tongue, child!” he snapped, and your tongue stopped moving, and all of the smart words that had been on the tip of it just disappeared. It was so strange. You had been frightened to run, terrified, but you were ready. Just like that, all the oxygen seemed to drain from the room as Ferdinand, your father, and your mother surrounded you, reminding you of your place in the world and how helpless you were in it.

Your fiery ember dropped into a bucket of water.

You sat in the living room, trapped like a rabbit in a snare, crawling inside your own skin as reality washed over you. They laid out the situation. There were rumors around town—serious ones—that you’ve been consorting with the devil. Half the village thought you were a witch. It wouldn’t be long before something terrible came of it, but Ferdinand had graciously offered to make you his wife, and in doing so, put the rumors to bed. So you would marry him. He was well-liked among the superstitious factions, and could get them to leave you alone if he made you an honest woman. (You growled at the implications of that particular phrase.)

Ferdinand sneered with self-satisfaction, his voice dripping with honey as he said how much he worried for you.

They were pressing you into the marriage and would hear no arguments, no back-talk. They suspected you might run, and wouldn’t let you out of their sight—your mother, your father, and Ferdinand.

You were prey. There was nothing you could do to fight.

The sky grew ever darker and more ominous with each passing minute you spent ensnared, until you knew you had missed the rendezvous time. Your heart twisted—if your daemon were wise, he had left already without you. Thinking of the alternative—that he had stayed, and would be discovered—your chest twisted even tighter. Marrying Ferdinand was a get-out-of-jail-free card for you, but the creature’s life was in irrevocable mortal jeopardy.

“You can’t force me to marry him!” you whimpered to your mother, praying for a sympathetic ear when you were left alone with her for a moment. She was horrible, but she was a woman. She must understand, at least a little, what they were doing to you.

She patted you softly on the shoulder, but her eyes stayed hard. “Your grandmother remembered when they burned a witch right in the center of town. Believe me, this gossip is not something to take lightly. Making you a proper wife is the only way to make people see that you are a normal girl. If you do not, then you shall no longer be our daughter, and we cannot protect you from whatever shall happen next.”

You tried to speak, but your tongue was dry. You kept trying to swallow the dryness away, but it stuck in your throat. You wanted to rage, to scream against them, to be on fire, but your blood had all turned to ice.

This was happening, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

*****

The creature strokes your cheek gently, his sympathetic and sorrowful yellow eyes glistening in the erratic flashes of light from the storm. “I am sorry I could not protect you. I am here now; let us depart under the cloak of night.”

Your head shakes in tense arcs before you decide to make them, your throat closing up. “You don’t understand—I can’t.”

The dark shadow shaped like his body becomes a tense, rigid statue. “What do you mean?” he says, cautiously.

“I can’t!” you repeat, as if he’s the one not making sense and your feelings should need no explanation, but you explain anyway, the words gushing out like a flooded river. “Maybe I wanted to, I thought I could, but it isn’t realistic. Look at the storm outside! I can’t run away in the middle of this—it frightens even you, doesn’t it? You couldn’t protect me should a thunderbolt strike me on the head! What will we do during weather such as this without any shelter? With my family monitoring me like a prisoner, I could not even finish packing—I haven’t the food and water to survive a week away from home! Where could we go, anyway? You cannot guarantee Victor Frankenstein will take us in! He may just as likely kill us! They think me a witch here, where everyone has known me since I was a baby. I will be a witch in the next town. We will be pariahs wherever we go.”

You wished he would yell, that he would argue, or be consumed in a fit of emotion—that would be better somehow—instead, he listens to your fearful list of excuses silently, with no reaction but his shoulders slowly falling and a soft, pained growl deep in his throat.

“D-don’t you see?” you explain frantically as if he had been arguing back. “We don’t need to run. They never spoke of you as more than rumor—those hunters, and Bess, they must not have been believed as any more than superstition. Every town has its ghost stories. There is no bloodthirsty mob, so long as I marry him. We can stay here and keep you hidden. We’ll be safe.”

“Safe?” he growls, but only softly and without malice. He can no longer bear to listen quietly. “You wish to marry him?” You hoped he would be angry, but his voice is a wavering medley of betrayal and confusion, and the pang it leaves in your heart is almost too much to bear.

“Of course not, but I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. Run away with me tonight.” An angry bolt of lightning splintered another tree out in the pasture, making you both jump, and providing the counterpoint to his argument for you. “Tell me you want to marry him,” he reaches out with a large hand that could cover your entire head, and delicately strokes your cheek. His eyes glisten with longing. “Tell me you want this and I will go. I shall live the rest of my life a miserable wretch, but I shall bear it, knowing you are happy.”

“Y-you once told me you wouldn’t care if I was with other men, so long as I came back to you. Maybe we could…”

That finally gets a rise out of him. “We could what?” he snaps, cutting you off. “You desire to marry another, and keep me hidden away in a barn—a filthy secret for you to visit at your leisure—to make love to when you are not sharing a bed with your husband? Is that… what you want?” The energy and indignation he had begun with fades away to a lame sort of helplessness by the end.

You know how pathetic you sound. How weak. It was the last thing you expected of yourself, too. You had always walked to your own beat, never fit in, and never cared what anyone thought of you—at least not enough to change for their benefit. You always dreamed of running away one day.

But you hadn’t.

No matter how much you had dreamed it—and even one exhilarating day had packed a bag and chased an eight-foot monster into the forest, convinced that you might run away with him—you never actually did. So many years waiting in misery, and all of that time you could have run.

But you wouldn’t. The moment the fantasy began to crystallize into reality, you froze with terror. You never would.

You only wish you had realized this before hurting him. Your precious daemon stares back at you expectantly, fiercely blinking his watery yellow eyes to fight off tears he won’t let fall in front of you. He’s waiting for you to assure him that this is a mistake—that he’s more to you than a sexual pet—and your heart twists with shame.

“Here is bad, but here is safe. It’s that kind of bad that’s all I’ve ever known. That sharp, snow-covered peak you can see from the barn has stood there, unchanging since I was born. It was there watching over our valley before my parents were born. The alpine winds have shaped it for thousands of years, since before the great pyramids of Egypt. Maybe I am like that mountain. Maybe I can never change, no matter how much I want to.”

It’s not the answer he hoped for. His jaw clenches. He had come here thinking you were running away together at last, and finally, finally, the weight of what is happening sinks in. You watch as the hope goes out of his eyes. Lightning flashes behind him, a little more distantly now. His throat bobs as he swallows.

“Please don’t look away,” you sob, begging. Something inside you is breaking with him.

Footsteps creak on the stairs and the faint orange glow of a candle filters under the door. “Are you talking to someone in there?” demands your mother’s shrill voice just as the door to your bedroom swings open. Your mother gasps in horror.

“You’ve left the window open, you fool child!” She clucks disapprovingly and rushes to shut it, closing the drenched curtains over it once it is latched tight. The shadow of the creature is gone. “What were you thinking? Of running away?” she snaps.

Yes, you want to scream. You hate her. Pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, and you wish you had disappeared into the night, too, for a vengeful bolt of lightning to release you from your misery.

Then she does something that surprises you. She sighs, and sits at the edge of your bed, her weight making a sinkhole on the straw-filled mattress. “My baby girl, you’re crying. They say it isn’t right for a bride to cry on her wedding night, but we know better.” She smiles sadly and wipes a tear from your cheek. “I wanted to run away, too,” she says quietly. Her gaze drifts over the window thoughtfully, like she was imagining a different life. In the flickering candlelight, you wonder if she could almost see it, that other life. You wonder what it was. “But if I had, where would you be?!” Her voice is back to an accusing, judgment-laden shrill. “I’ve tried so hard with you, to get you to grow up. You finally came to your senses—you’re not a child anymore, you can’t just do whatever you want. Life isn't a fairy tale. Life isn’t about being happy… it’s about doing what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me.”

When she leaves and returns downstairs, you give a cursory but hopeful search under the bed and in the corners and shadows for the creature, but he is gone. You had seen him disappear into the loft at the slightest sound of footsteps dozens of times, and you know he had fled out the window and is miles away by now. You wonder if he had returned to the barn, but you know in your heart that he’s gone. It’s already too late. You saw the way he had looked at you before your mother interrupted. Betrayed. Wounded. Finished.

He must hate you.

You throw open the shutters again and look out on the dark, windswept landscape. Heavy, cold rain pummels your face, soaking your night dress instantly and making your squint and shiver against it. There is no sign of him, though above the howling of the wind, you imagine that you hear him howling, desperate and anguished. You could jump from here, you think. You could lash together your bed sheets and climb down undetected, and—

A bolt of lightning strikes a tree in front of the house and it explodes to splinters as a cataclysm of thunder bursts open your ears. The blinding-white flash fills your room and your senses, sets all your hairs standing on end, and for several moments after you can’t see or hear a thing. Am I alive? you wonder first. Is he scared? you worry a second later. When your eyes finally adjust to the dark again, you can see the smoldering embers of the destroyed trunk, its crown lying in pieces on the ground. One branch had scarcely missed the roof, and had you jumped from your window a moment before, you certainly would have been hit.

If only you had been, a part of you screams against your skull. It’s the only way out, now. Jump from the window! it insisted, its voice weaving harsh fingers of smoke through your mind. Run, slipping in the wet grass with your ankle broken into the night and find him, or be eaten by a bear. Let a branch fall and crush your pathetic body. Let the lightning take you to Hell.

You close the shutter, and latch it.

Shaking, you return to your bed and lay on top of the covers. The depression in the mattress from your mother is still flattening out. Wet spots on the blanket are the only memento of the creature’s visit. You remember what it felt like to be held, warm and safe in his arms just moments ago, and try to tuck the memory away somewhere it will never be lost. Somewhere you can look back at it in the years to come. You’ll never feel that way again.

It would be a mistake to run.

You're making the right choice.

You don’t want to die. Surviving means doing what you have to do.

You're making the right choice.

You're making the right choice.

You repeat it to yourself over and over, shivering alone on top of your bed until the black sky turns to grey, and the birds start to sing a summer chorus—first one melodic song, then a jarring metallic buzz, a repetitive whistle, and more and more add their voices until it swells into a cacophony in the purple dawn. The storm must have passed some time in the night without your noticing. It doesn’t matter. You made your choice and broke your own wings.

You made the right choice.

[cunninghamchrissie]

Shady Andrew and Righteous Fury Andrew (as seen in his tweet @ the terf Gr*ham L*nehan) are my two faves

i love righteous fury andy i want to see more of him he’s so sexy

[dwellordream]

As a dork!Jon and Robb advocate, I gotta say I love how you embrace all of the boys awkward, angsty teenage glory. I feel like most most writers are sleeping on the fact we first met them when they were like “Oh a guy just got beheaded ... SQUIRREL! LET’S HORSE RACE!” And let it never be forgot dork-king!Jon has 1) got drunk and ran out crying from a party after his uncle said he wasn’t grown 2) cuddled with his overgrown husky to protect his virtue when a girl wanted to snuggle with him 😎

Thank you! I know part of it is probably the show’s influence but I hate it when ASOIAF fics feel they need to make Robb and Jon more ‘mature’ and ‘serious’ than they already are. They’re 14/15 year old boys at the very start of the series and unless they’re being aged up for a fic, you might as well embrace it. I think there’s this weird treatment of teenage boys in fiction where they are either forced into the trope of ‘sexy bad boy’ or ‘hapless dork’ with nothing in the middle.  At this point I’ve read so many ‘dark!Jon’ fics where he has no sense of humor or any emotions beyond bitterness, righteous fury, and jealousy that I start to question whether we all read the same series or not. Jon may have been forced to mature a bit quicker than his trueborn siblings, but he is still very much a kid during his arc, and I think it ignores the central conflict of ‘kill the boy and let the man live’ to pretend that Jon is this stone-cold badass who never makes impulsive or foolish decisions or shows any affection for his friends. 

[demoncryptspanties]

Dear Bucky

Masterlist

A/N just had to get this out, so here’s my angsty dabble. Warning: Angst if that’s a warning and i suppose swearing. 

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Reader, Bucky x FuryDaughter!Reader, Wade Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Dear Bucky,

I’m writing to you on shitty hospital postcards because you refuse to see me and you keep saying what a stupid decision I made and you can’t argue with me on a postcard. Seriously though why does the hospital have postcards. Have you ever thought that it was a bad thing we brought everyone back, not because of me because that would have happened either way, I mean like what if you were in an aeroplane or something? Steve won’t tell me the details, so I don’t know whether there were lots of deaths or whatever. Anyways if it makes you feel any better I genuinely thought that my regeneration abilities would save me but I suppose test tube powers can’t compete with cosmic interference, do you think Thor would have survived this I would ask but I don’t want him to feel guilty or something. Also, so could Steve always Mjolnir or did that just happen because Asgard doesn’t exist anymore because like I get, he’s righteous and that but he couldn’t lead a country he can barely lead the avengers since you’re all travelling children. well I ran out of card.

Dear Bucky,

Wade came to see me today I think he cried. I’m not dying you know you don’t have to come and say goodbye. I wish I could see you; it would mean a lot to me if you came not that I’m needy or anything just kinda miss the hair ya know. Did you cut it like I said or did you keep it long, where are you staying anyways because I’m sending these to the compound or rather Tony is bringing them back but I don’t even know if you’re in Wakanda or not. About Tony, he got me moved to a private hospital because you know he’s rich and that so if you’re worried about people there will literally be no one here. Back to Wade have you seen the baby, him and Vanessa make cute babies, you know I love kids. How's Wanda, she seemed really dejected last time I saw her can you check up on her, I would do it in person but I can’t for obvious reasons. Have you seen the Asgard in Norway yet can you take some pictures? Thor keeps forgetting to show me anything because he’s an ass but that’s okay. Sorry for the questions, hope to see you soon,

Love yours.

  Dear Bucky,

They said I got worse overnight but I don’t feel bad. I don’t want to make you worry or anything but in the unlikely event that something happens it would be nice to see you. I get it’s hard but it’s hard for me too, its lonely here without you. How are you sleeping? I know you’ve had trouble for as long as you’ve slept. If it makes you feel any better so do I, I suppose I keep replaying everything when there’s no distraction and I’m so overly aware of everything that I don’t feel safe. Do you also feel like that or are your demons different? Steve said you aren’t talking to anyone but he won’t tell me if you’re reading these or not. I'm not a psychologist or anything but you should see someone, I’ll talk to Steve and Tony. Well Steve since Tony has almost retired. Isn’t Morgan so big now, she looks like her dad a lot but don’t tell pepper that. Well I suppose she’ll always look big to you; you should have seen her as a baby she was the cutest thing. I miss you Bucky, even your cold metal arm. If you still wear it you should ask Shuri to heat it to body temperature or something since you’re a literal heater and the arm is a metal block that feels like it’s been left in the snow. If you do decide to get rid of it for good though or get a different one, I wouldn’t be opposed to that not that my opinion matters.

Love yours.

  Dear Buck,

I’m feeling a lot better now, I’m walking and they said after a week of monitoring if I continue like this I can come home. Home. I didn’t think a thing like that existed for me. There was never home growing up, just places I needed to be. Fury senior thought that me not being attached to places or people would be best, it would make my life easier. Sometimes I think he regrets keeping me after my mum died but then I wouldn’t be who I am today and I wouldn’t have done the things I’ve done. Even after all the morally wary things I feel good about the person I am. You’re a big part of that, indirectly. Me feeling good about myself. You’re also home to me, do you think maybe we could find a home away from everything once I come home to you. Maybe I could open a cafe even though I don’t know anything about coffee or business but Tony would and then you could be a lumberjack or something. Wade knew a guy with a regeneration ability like ours he was a lumberjack once I think it would suit you. His name was Logan or something, I don’t remember what other abilities he had but wade said he was a bit of a dick but Wade is also a bit of a dick so he must be really bad, I kind of want to meet him.

Love yours.

  Dear Bucky,

I had one more night and I could be back but apparently, I took a turn for the worse. You may notice that the handwriting is different that’s Wade (hi yes, I know all your business). I heard Steve left or something, nobody talks to me straight anymore it’s annoying. I just want honesty really and you can’t even come to see me. Does it hurt too much or do you just hate me for trying to play the hero. I’m trying here, I’m holding out a hand, I just want you to take it. I get it hurts but I’m hurting too in so many ways, I just want you by my side so please come and see me. Wade tells me that the problem isn’t me but I think it is. Was I not enough? are you shutting down do you feel like I’m leaving you because I assure you it isn’t by choice. I want to be home. I want to be held by you; I want you to kiss me just once. I want to feel your love because the pity I get from everyone else is just wrong. They’re supposed to be my friends but aside from Wade I only see guilt or pity, you would think at least Nat would hide her feelings better, but I suppose I’m her friend right, I notice everything.

Love yours.

  Bucky,

I’m not going to make it; my body is shutting down please don’t come. I know I begged you to come before and I want you so badly to hold my hand and kiss my forehead but you can’t see me like this. You’ll be okay, Sam tells me despite your weird hatred for each other you guys are good. He’s a good man, maybe in my top 3 which includes you of course. You can tell Natasha she can take my gun not that I’ve used it since I got this radioactive serum shit in my veins but it’s a sexy gun and it’s my favourite. You can take my favourite knife if you want it, the ceramic kitchen set too. I can’t believe my dad actually got my initials carved in the hilts but it’s an aesthetic I like. Also make sure Sam gets my good controller, I refuse to let Wade or Peter have it, only winners can hold that legend. Can you take loads of pictures of things too because I’ll always know if you did? I think you guys can make me a tree now or something so if you want to visit me you can but I don’t know if my radioactive blood will kill the tree. Well it’s not exactly saving me now so it best not kill the tree too. I love you Bucky and as cheesy as Wade is telling me it sounds; I will till the end of time.

Love The Y/N Fury

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 14

Warnings: cursing, little editing, brief descriptions of violence

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: AND WE’RE BACK SURPRISE!! Seriously though, I feel horrible that I haven’t been able to update in so long - I was doing so well at first with the weekly updates and then it just kind of...stopped. Things got difficult. Sorry. But here we are, keeping things going with this fic! I’m excited! As always, feedback is appreciated! 

There’s something heavy across her waist when she wakes up.

She shimmies, trying to dislodge it, but the firm pressure only tightens when she does. Something warm snuffled at the back of her neck, the feel of soft whiskers scratching, and it’s - oh.

Bucky.

A little thrill shot down her spine - still does, even after these last few weeks. He’s only spent the night a couple of times - and the two of them remain somewhat clothed - but still. Her heartbeat picked up as he sighed again, breath coming hot along her neck.

She couldn’t shake this feeling, this nagging little notion, that she’d gone zero to 60 the moment she met him; in spite of the fact that they were taking things slow, something her trust issues and his gentleman’s upbringing insisted on, her brain felt like she was on a high-speed roller coaster, white-knuckling as she hurtled along the tracks awaiting the inevitable corkscrews and hairpin turns that would make her stomach drop.

Of course, with roller coasters, it helped if you had someone’s hand to hold.

She wiggled again in Bucky’s grip, trying to turn and face him, but he groaned in protest and tightened his spooning position. She rolled her eyes a little, patting his hand where it rested on her stomach.

“Such a baby,” she sighed, morning voice little more than a croak.

Bucky groaned again.

“‘S too early,” he grumbled, the sound muffled into the space between her hair and her pillow.

“Maybe for you,” Y/N huffed. “Some of us have jobs, you know.”

“I have a job,” he snorted.

“Oh yeah? Besides being a sexy biker?”

She heard his low growl rumbling before he quickly rolled to put his weight on top of her, his fingers wiggling into the soft flesh at her sides. She squealed and bucked under him, trying to escape, but he was too heavy to dislodge and she was way too ticklish to let him keep torturing her.

“Okay! Uncle! Uncle!” she cried, breathless. His fingers stilled, but his hands maintained their grip on her waist, the weight of his chest holding her down as he smiled, his face a few inches above hers.

“Hi,” he stage-whispered. His bed-head was in full disarray after his tickle attack, random strands fluffed out in different directions and hanging in front of his eyes. She blew a puff of breath past her lips, amused at the way he wrinkled his nose as the wayward hairs waved back in his face.

Good morning,” she smiled back, still catching her breath from the assault.

He leaned down for a kiss - a morning kiss, soft and tender, a small taste to break the night-long fast. The tip of his nose traced the length of hers.

“Still too early,” he hummed, lips working their way across her cheeks and nose and eyelids.

“Mm?” she hummed back, eyes closed.

“You know it’s Saturday, right?” he half-chuckled, nuzzling down into her neck. “Don’t have anywhere to be for a while.”

She peeked one eye open, a suspicious smile tilting up one corner of her mouth.

“I know that voice,” she bit her lip. He didn’t answer, leaving his face in its hiding place at her neck. “What are you planning, Barnes?”

“Somethin’ you’ll like,” he grinned, hands sliding down to the hem of her t-shirt.

“More like ‘something that’ll get you past second base’?” she teased. No matter how she played coy, though, her body couldn’t repress a shiver at his touch, fingers slowly climbing the skin under her shirt.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, honey.”

His head popped up and he gave her a sly wink. Surprised laughter sputtered from her lips, soon cut off by a firm kiss, his own laugh pressed into her mouth.

They didn’t get out of bed for a while that morning.

**********

Natasha dug in her pocket for an elusive piece of bubblegum she knew she had stashed there. It was becoming frustrating - the pocket was only so big. Maybe she put it on the other side?

The diner she was waiting in - Lakeview family restaurant - was the only decent place to eat in the next town over. A cup of black coffee, half-finished, sat on the table in front of her; she’s had two refills already and knows she should stop -

There it is.

Fingers grasped the missing bubblegum and wiggled it out from her jacket pocket. She popped it in her mouth with no hesitation, crinkling the wrapper and letting it fall to the table.

Another glance at her watch. She’s never known him to be late.

She had been disappointed, but not surprised, when Y/N didn’t take the deal. In fact, she acted like their conversation never happened - diving headfirst into this fling with Barnes, the two of them apparently believing this could somehow...happen at all. A happy ending, a real life? The secrets were stacked against them, Natasha knew. Barnes knew, too, but she suspected he was thinking somewhere lower than his brain in all this. He had been from the moment the good doctor moved in across the street. And the rest of the gang seemed all too happy to welcome her into the fold, ignoring the very inconvenient facts about their real identities, their jobs, their presence in this town. It could’ve gotten her killed. Almost did.

Which was why Nat only trusted one head in the group - the one on her shoulders.

She was doing this for them. They’d understand, maybe not at first, but eventually. And even if they didn’t, she could live with their anger. Better than their blood.

It’s taken a few weeks to get things in order, but she had finally made the call. Clearly, extraction was the best case scenario for the team now. The longer they lingered on this job, got comfortable with Hydra’s silence after Rumlow’s death? She didn’t want to play those odds.

A bell dinged above the diner door. She didn’t turn, refolding the gum wrapper in her hand as the booted footsteps approached slowly, quiet on the tile floor. She didn’t even look up when he wrapped his knuckles once against the table, before sliding into the booth across from her.

“Romanoff.”

“Fury.”

“Been a while,” Nick Fury raised his good brow as he leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table.

“Well, you know how it is, Nick. Busy with work,” she smirked drily.

The waitress returned, pen at the ready, and Fury requested a coffee and whatever fresh pie they had that day. Whipped cream on the side, please.

“You know, my doctor tried to convince me to try going keto,” he said conversationally as they waited. “Something about keeping my blood sugar steady.” He shrugged. “Decided I didn’t hate myself enough to do that.”

Nat rolled her eyes a little, unable to hide her small smile. She had missed Nick. But this, the chit-chat, the minutiae, was never what they were good at. People like them were rarely good at small talk.

“So.” He turned the skewered bite of apple on his fork, gliding it through the whipped cream before taking a slow bite. “I understand you have a proposition for me.”

“I do.”

He pursed his lips, nodded, never lifting his eyes from his plate.

“Then let’s hear it.”

**********

They were slipping.

Rogers. Barnes. The Avengers.

From what they can tell, the self-righteous pricks are too far up their own asses to see what’s been going on. No one saw his men tailing them on every run. No one noticed their movement in the shadows of the town, the palms they greased, the eyes that looked the other way. Nobody was looking when their numbers doubled in size, weapons making their way through with the new men. It all hummed under the surface, dry winter air nearly crackling with the static.

Any day now, any moment - all it would take was some friction, a spark, to light the whole thing up. Burn the fucking Avengers to the ground.

Which is why he was very careful to avoid such friction. No contact - that was the rule. Keep your head down, mouth shut, do what you’re told, and don’t start shit. All the men knew, and they were scared shitless of the boss, so they obeyed. But they were restless, he knew. Itching, jumpy, knuckles cracking. They wanted a fight, and he wouldn’t hold them back much longer.

No, not much longer now.

He knew an old friend of the boss would be passing through today - on to the next town over. Better head that way if he was gonna get to the rendezvous point on time.

**********

“I put together this team, you know.”

“They were already a unit when they were deployed in Afghanistan-”

“Yeah, yeah but I hand picked them all for this assignment,” Fury waved her off. “And now you’re telling me I made the wrong call?”

Nat sighed through her nose.

“I’m not saying they’re wrong for the job, but they’ve been out here for a long time and…” she glanced out the window at they highway just beyond the gravel parking lot. “To be frank, Barnes is compromised and the rest are content to let it happen. They need to be pulled out of the field to regroup. Period.”

“Mm.” Nick sipped his coffee. “And this has nothing to do with your...history with Barnes?”

“Don’t patronize me, Nick. I’m a damn professional, not a child. You know that better than anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

They stared at each other across the table for a moment - Nat with her arms crossed, a deep line between her brows. Nick seemed content with a hand wrapped around his coffee cup, empty plate scraped clean of crumbs and whipped cream pushed away from him on the table.

“I trust your judgment, Romanoff,” Nick finally sighed, draining his coffee. “So what’s the move here?”

“Simple. Call it in, move on the evidence we have to clear Hydra off the streets, and send the team home for debrief,” she shrugged. “We’ve got more than enough to keep these guys put away for a little while - long enough that we can come up with a long-term plan and pump them for more intel on Hydra’s shadier business deals. Gotta be a weak link in there somewhere.”

“You gonna get ‘em to talk?”

“Somebody always talks.”

“Okay,” Nick nodded. “It’s far from the worst idea you’ve ever had. But I’m gonna have to make some pretty important phone calls. Probably have to go all the way to Pierce on this one.”

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” Nat tilted her head to one side. “You can salvage this whole operation before it goes south - now tell me that’s not worth a little bit of groveling to your boss.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one having to do it.”

“I don’t beg, Nick,” she smirked. “You know that.”

He huffed, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know.” He rolled his good eye as he started to shuffle out of the booth. Natasha stood up too, readjusting the jacket around her shoulders. The sun was just starting to slip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot outside the window. Her bike sat next to his sleek black SUV, the only visible vehicles parked on this side of the building.

Fury gave her a long look as he patted down his pockets, leaving a sizable tip for the waitress tucked under his coffee cup. Nat refused to meet his gaze, standing with her arms crossed, green eyes scanning the room. The other patrons at the cafe paid them no attention, as they slowly walked to the door side-by-side, Nat’s boots clicking softly on the tile floor.

“You don’t need to worry about this, Romanoff,” Nick sighed, pushing through the door first. The little bell above the door announced their departure. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“I’m not worried.”

He stopped at the door of his car, good eye sliding sideways for a glance at her. She was already straddling her bike.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon,” he waved, almost drowned out by the roar of her bike starting. He laughed under his breath, humorless, nostalgic, as she revved the engine a moment before throwing up gravel under the tires as she peeled away from the diner. He tried not to be irritated about the paint job on his car - already streaked with mud from these unfamiliar roads.

The highway was nearly deserted, nearly dark, as he started the long drive back to the city. Romanoff might not be worried - though he suspected otherwise - but Nick certainly was. It wasn’t like her to pull a stunt like this, and it wasn’t like his hand-picked team of Avengers to get sloppy on the job. And then there was the sudden silence from Hydra in the last weeks since their ringleader’s death; his team, and his higher ups at the agency, had always known there was someone else, a hidden hand pulling strings, but could never quite get the bastard to show their face. And now, when they all could feel something building like a wave, about to crest, Nat wants to pull the team out.

He shook his head. Too much to think about and a long drive ahead. His hand reached for the radio dial, searching past country stations and bluegrass stations and the lonely pop station - he settled on gospel, surprising himself. But it made him think of his mother, so he left it there. Flicked on the headlights, and then the high beams, showing him nothing in the darkening night besides the road stretching ahead and the now-empty fields, nearly flooded from last week’s rain.

After a while - could’ve been an hour, could’ve been 20 minutes - he heard them in the distance, that distinct roar of engines. His ears pricked; they were coming from behind him, the direction of town. Maybe Natasha changed her mind? Maybe the rest of the team was offended he didn’t drop by and they were going to haul him back to the compound for a barbecue.

Maybe he’s become one of those goddamn idiots who’s dumb enough to believe in luck.

When their headlights came around a curve a quarter mile behind him, he was nearly blinded by the sheer number. The noise was nearly deafening, and he flattened his foot against the accelerator, mentally calculating the miles between towns. Too far in either direction.

That was when he saw the group coming towards him, too.

With a steady stream of curses under his breath, he dialed Natasha’s phone number. The phone rang, twice, three times - he glanced over and saw that two of the bikes had pulled alongside him, riders covered head to toe in black leather, white skulls painted on their helmets.

“Motherfuckers,” he hissed. A jerk of his steering wheel, just a threat, and they braked a little, backing off. But there were three more directly behind him, not to mention the ones further back and up ahead.

“Come on, Romanoff-”

“Nick?”

“Natasha - we made a mistake, they’re moving now-”

“Nick, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

The two bikers had pulled alongside him again, speeding up and slowing down to stay just out of his reach. One of them reached over to his hip, raising an arm right at the car-

The pop of the gun and his front tire were almost simultaneous; the car went squealing and swerving across the road, black marks burned into the pavement, before a wild swing of the wheel sent it flipping into the deep ditch next to the highway, where it landed upside down and creaking.

“Nick what the hell just happened?”

“Nick are you there?”

“Nick?”

[dracolucius-abraxusmalfoy]

Prompt: Ron is mad that Harry and Draco are friends

Thank you too @fallautumncozyblog for the great prompt. 

Part 2 and Part 3 are here

Part 1

_______________________________________________________________

“Mate.”

“Ron.”

Harry doesn’t bother to look up from the task he’s trying to accomplish. He isn’t interested in hearing Ron trying to convince him that Malfoy, that Draco isn’t deserving of his friendship.

The three of them are the last one awake in the common room, and Hermione has been suspiciously quiet throughout all of this. Harry’s taken that to mean she’s siding with Ron, he’s certain if she disagreed they would have heard about it by now.

“I just.. I can’t understand how you can be friends with him. He’s a  Death Eater!” 

“Ya, Ron, I  know. He’s also a kid. You do realize that don’t you? that we’re all only 17 years old?”

Harry shakes his head. He’d turned to look at Ron when he’d called him a Death Eater,  but he looks away now. He can feel the anger,  the ‘righteous indignation’, as Draco has taken to calling it, simmering under his skin.  it’s a new experience though, for it to be directed at his best friend. 

“Exactly! We’re all 17, and yet we made the right choice.” 

Harry closes his eyes. He feels like he’s being pulled in too many directions, all at once. 

“Did we?”

He doesn’t mean it to come out quite like that, knows what it sounds like he’s asking, but he’s so tired, it's late, and his best mate is yelling at him and he just honestly doesn't have the energy right now to deal with it. 

The silence surrounds him like a suffocating blanket, and he can feel two pairs of eyes burning a hole in his back, can feel Hermione’s assessing gaze and Ron’s angry one. He sighs, put’s the piece of parchment and ink well he’s been fiddling with down and turns around slowly to face them, looking each in the eye in turn. 

“Did we?” Ron's voice is stressed, cracking like he can’t believe he is repeating those words. 

“That’s.. not quite what I meant.” Harry shakes his head. 

“No. What did you mean then?” This is Hermione, it’s the first time she’s spoken all evening since the two of them found Draco and Harry talking in their quiet corner of the castle. 

“I just.. Voldemort was bad. He was a mad megalomaniac and he needed to be defeated. But guys-”  Harry’s voice breaks off here. It’s hard to say to them, what he’s been thinking about. It’s easy to talk about with Draco, he doesn’t have to fear what Draco’s reaction will be, no matter what he tells him it’s always quiet acceptance. Judgment- doesn't exist between them. About anything. 

In a whisper, barely loud enough for them to hear he says what he’s been discussing with Draco for weeks. “Can you really tell me that Dumbledore was a good guy? Can you really tell me that the government, the way it is right now, is right?” He pauses, shakes his head, takes a deep breath to work up his own  courage, “Can you tell me your prejudice is any different?” 

Ron doesn’t say a word, but the red creeping up his neck is blotchy and telling of his fury. Harry knows  he’s probably crossed a line, but he thinks it’s one that needed to be stepped over, it isn’t his line, it’s Ron, there’s nothing morally ambiguous about what he’s saying, and  he knew  what reaction he was going to  get  before the words had crossed his lips. He doesn’t regret it.  

He shakes his head and pulls himself to his feet. “Listen, mate, I’m gonna head to bed, yeah?” He moves towards the stairs, before changing his mind and heading towards Hermione first. He bends down, and wraps his arms around her shoulders, pressing his face into her neck. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, but she shakes her head. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for Harry. Nothing  at all.”

He squeezes her tighter and kisses her cheek before pulling back. There’s always been something intrinsically comforting about her. She brushes his hair back, which has gotten long enough that he can pull it away from his face and smiles up at him,  unsure, but steady. 

“It’ll be okay.” He nods and heads up the stairs without looking back at Ron. 

The next morning, Ron is gone by the time Harry gets up. He wants to be angry at his pettiness, but he can’t bring himself to be anything more than hurt. After everything, how could he still be such a prat sometimes?

He tries to push the thoughts from his head and focus on getting dressed, focus on the day ahead of him. 

He gets to the first flight of stairs to find Draco leaning against a wall at the end of the corridor. He looks composed, just like he always does,  watching students walk past with a blank kind of interest. Harry used to think he never paid attention to anyone but himself, but he watches the world around him with keen observation, taking in seemingly innocuous details that Harry would never even think to notice. 

As he gets closer he can see that Draco is anxious, the tap tap tap of his finger on his arm, the way his eyes dart around as if they’re searching for something, rather than the usual smooth glide of his gaze across the crowd heading to breakfast. 

A gaze that finds Harry almost the instant he gets off the last step.

Some of the tension falls from his shoulders, and he offers Harry a tentative smile. 

“Everything all right?” He asks, pushing himself up to stand straight. 

Harry nods and rubs his face. “Ya. Ron’s pretty pissed.”

Draco doesn’t say anything, and Harry reaches out touch his elbow. 

“That’s his problem though. You know I’m not embarrassed to be your friend or anything ya?”

Draco remains quiet, but he nods, slowly, as if he’s trying to decide if he actually believes it, and looks Harry in the eye for a moment before turning to watch the hallway in front of them. 

“I get it, Harry. I know. I didn’t tell any of my friends either did I? It was just nice to-”

“Not have to worry about anyone's opinions.”

Draco nods, “To have quiet.” 

“Kitchens?”

Harry had sort of assumed that’s where they were heading, away from the great hall, but given the topic of conversation, he felt like he should ask. 

Draco smiles at him, and this time it’s anything but tentative. “Definitely.” 

Breakfast is eaten in mostly quiet. The smell of rich coffee wafting from the carafe, and the crunch of toast fill Harry’s senses. He learned early on that Draco liked to eat in silence, something about enjoying the flavours more, and at first, he’d found it entirely too posh, but soon their silent meals became something he looked forward too. There was never any discomfort, in their quiet, no tension, and it was one of few moments Harry had to sit and think without others to distract him. They finish eating almost simultaneously and gather up their things quickly before heading out the port hole. 

They have potions first. Normally Draco goes back to his dorm to get his books first, but his bag is already slung over his shoulder this time, and Harry thinks nothing of their walking together until they reach the room and Ron and Hermione are already sitting at their desk. 

Ron frowns at them, glaring first at Harry, then Draco before pointedly averting his gaze. 

Harry can see the flush creeping up Draco’s neck, but he decides against mentioning it and sits at the desk directly behind Hermione, and motions Draco to sit next to him. They’ve paired together for a couple of potions, both at their professor's bequest and willingly, and now Harry feels like he has to show Ron that he’s not afraid to be seen with him, show Draco. Draco smiles and nods, flopping rather ungracefully into the seat next to him and stretching, before dropping his bag onto the ground. Hermione has turned around to look at them, and Draco smiles pleasantly and nods. “Hello, Granger.” 

Hermione looks a little surprised, but other than the slight widening of her eyes does not show it.  “Malfoy.” She says before she turns to look at Harry. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

It’s a statement, but he can hear her silent question. Did you eat? 

“We ate in the kitchens.” He looks at Ron, and then back at Hermione. She seems to understand what he’s trying to say, as she nods, and turns back to the front, where Sinclair, their new professor, has just come in and started writing on the board. 

Draco nudges his knee, and then leaves their thighs pressed together. It’s as comforting as it is distracting, and Harry sets about chopping the first ingredients. 

His mind is still on Ron however, and it soon becomes clear that he isn’t paying close enough attention. 

“Merlin, Potter. What’ve you done to that slug?” 

Harry rolls his eyes and ignores Ron glare at Draco over his shoulder as if he still thinks Harry needs protecting. He thinks he should probably be offended for Draco’s sake, but he’s warmed, a little, because he knows it means Ron still cares, will come around eventually, if only for Harry. 

Draco has confiscated the knife and the remaining slugs and being as it’s the last ingredient that requires any kind of preparation, and simply leans forward on his elbows to watch. 

Strands of Draco’s hair, which is almost as long as Harry's now, falls out of the tie and into his face, which he blows out of his eyes. Harry’s tempted to brush it behind his ears for him, but he knows that would probably be weird, so he refrains, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling when he shakes his head back with an annoyed pinched, expression. 

“I don’t know why I let you convince me to let it grow.” He mutters, just low enough that no one but Harry can hear him. 

Harry raises an eyebrow and snorts. “I did no such thing.”

Draco shoots him a glare before turning back to his slugs. 

“Come on, it looks good. Long hair is quite sexy don’t you think?”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that you found my father attractive.” 

He isn’t sure whether to laugh or choke, and the sound he makes is somewhere in between.

“God, Draco, you win ya? We’ll both cut it.”

“You’ll  do no  such thing.”

Harry does laugh then and leans over to bump their shoulders. “So we’re in agreement then.  We keep the hair.” 

Draco rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Harry can see the edge of a  smile, and can’t help but grin as he reaches for the second last ingredient, crushed moonstones, that looks like silvery dust in a jar on the corner of the table. He thinks maybe it reminds him of Draco’s eyes. 

When he looks forward again, finally tearing his eyes away from Draco, the first thing he see’s is the tense set of Ron’s shoulders. He knows he’ll have to talk to him soon, but all he really wants to do is escape back to the kitchen with Draco. He’s so tired of fighting, he doesn’t want to have to fight with his best mate too. He forcefully turns his attention back to their potion. These aren’t the types of things he should be contemplating when he’s got his face hung over a volatile, potentially explosive substance.