#song: Good to be Bad from Descendants

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 29

“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS

[wifelinkmtg]

TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

[mr-walkingrainbow]

DESCENDANTS: The Rise of Red! (or the REAL hidden story in the movie + what’s gonna happen in the sequel THEORY!)

So we ALL watched the movie right? We ALL thought the plot sucked and the movie ended abruptly with a underwhelming climax?

WELL HERES WHY WERE WRONG!

So I did some really deep thinking, and I figured, these writers can’t be THAT stupid? The director can’t be THAT idiotic, lame, and boring? That would just embarrass Disney, not to mention all the well respected actors that are in this!

So I thought hard. I thought hard and I thought long. Like hella long. And I tallied up all the plot inconsistencies, all the weird explanations, all the very specific lines in songs, and I did it. I fixed descendants rise of red! I FIGURED IT OUT!

So!! Here it is! What TRULY happened that crowncoming night! And what going back in time actually did!

(I intentionally put a keep reading so if anyone wanted to avoid spoilers they can)

So! Now that we’re under the keep reading. Anything spoilerly can be said!

So first things first. The biggest theory everyone is saying.

ELLA DID IN FACT POISON BRIDGET!

Yes! I said it! We all thought the movie was leading to this! So it was underwhelming when it was revealed it was Uliana and her crew were the origins behind the prank.

OR WERE THEY?

We all saw that once they opened the book; they were frozen. Because they were ‘bad’ and Merlin’s security system was set into place.

And many of you came up with the giant plot hole that this would have happened REGARDLESS of whether Red and Chloe interfered.

AND YOUR RIGHT!

This sole reason, is why the group COULDNT have done it! Not only were they frozen, but they couldn’t read the recipe, and were properly sent to detention, ergo exonerating them from being at the dance! Meaning their was literally no way they could have been behind the prank!

So with them being withheld from the dance, who could it be? Who was the one person who was originally at the dance, but now no longer could be? What was the one actual change that Red and Chloe set off?

ELLA. AND THE VASE!

We all see that when the two go into Ella’s house, Chloe knocks over a Vase. Breaking it. Lady Tremaine GROUNDS Ella! Meaning that she COULD NOT go to the dance!

This DIDNT happen originally! Meaning Ella DID go to the dance in the original timeline! Which is proven when Cinderella (I’m calling Adult Ella, Cinderella) talks to The Red Queen (I’m calling Adult Bridget The Red Queen) about how the prank being pulled was wrong. She had first handed knowledge of the prank. AND she told Chloe she fell in love with Charming at the dance.

But! Since Ella is the only difference in the two timelines in regarding to the dance, this is PROOF that she was the one who actually pranked Bridget, NOT Uliana and her crew!

So here’s what I think happened!

Ella, who saw Bridget being bullied about the cupcakes, and saw Uliana take all the cupcakes. And promptly being threatened by Uliana. Decided to bake Bridget something to cheer her up. However Bridget literally has all of the cookbooks in auradon. As shown. So she snoops around and finds Merlin’s cookbook! (Because it’s also shown she’s okay with breaking the rules if it’s for a good cause. From her get our hands dirty song!) and double and, the book WOULD open for her because she is a good person. AND she was doing it for a good reason!

she flips through the book and finds some simple blase recipe that cheers Bridget up. Maybe gives her cool hair (Red hair??). Something simple but sweet.

However. While doing this, she happens to see the Monster food recipe. She doesn’t look at it for long of course. Just enough to remember it’s a thing.

BACK TO BRIDGET!

Now! I swear to whatever’s out there that the person who played Chloe said there was a queer character in Dedcendants 4. I can’t find it now but it was some tumblr or insta post. I know cause I immediately told my friend afterwards.

Anywho. I think Bridget is the queer character! We see in the movie her only friend was Ella. Not only that but she YEARNS for someone to care about enough to ask her out (in a romantic way like charming just tried to do for Ella) Ella, who again. Is Bridget’s only friend. And ergo, shows her love no one else does, IMMEDIATELY asks her to go to the dance with her! (Might have said as friends in the other timeline too. Who knows)

But! This only makes Bridget’s crush on Ella even BIGGER. And she falls in love with her! She probably thinks they might have a chance!

This is also somewhat proven by The Red Queens song ‘Love Ain’t It’

Title ; Love Ain’t It

Red : “With all the Grief you’ve experienced”

Red (Speaking of Cinderella) : So you Knew her?

The Red Queen : I saw through her. Cinderella and I were classmates in a way.

(Notice how she uses Ella’s mocking name after she has time to recover from the interaction. She said ELLA originally when she caught her off guard. Also. The line. I SAW THROUGH HER. It’s a double edged sword. Saw through her fronts. Saw the hurting girl inside. Saw through her LIES saw the mean girl behind)

Proven by the next lines

The red Queen : I spent way to much time in this place

So I had to escape

the people might smile

but their two faced, too fake.

Girl was relentlessly bullied and betrayed by someone she loved

And Ella Knows it.

Cinderella : Some people act mean at first, because their too afraid to feel

[the reverse is also true]

Cinderella : Look hon. Back in high school, a mean prank was played

And ever since that fateful day

She was never the same, it’s quite a shame.

So the Red Queen sings a whole song about how Love isn’t it. And we ALL KNOW that her only connection to love as a kid was through ELLA. meaning Bridget HAD A CRUSH on Ella. Was IN LOVE. With Ella.

So. How did Crowncoming originally happen you ask?

Here’s my theory

Ella and Bridget go to the dance. They are happy! They have fun. Bridget falls further in love with Ella. Meanwhile. Ella falls in love with Charming!

Her and Charming hit it off. And Ella starts to feel loved and appreciated for the first time in her life.

Then, Bridget performs her ‘Shuffle of Love’ dance. All the attention is on her! Even Charmings.

Ella feels robbed. She feels jealous. She feels angry that her friend is stealing the one good moment she is finally having to herself.

And so she briefly remembers the spell. And in a moment of error, she either A. Remembers the recipe already and makes the recipe. Or B. Re-Sneaks back into the office to see it. However I’m going with A because the book wouldn’t have opened again for Ella because of her bad intentions.

Whichever way. Bridget eats the baked treat. (I think it was a cupcake. Ella could have lied and said it was from the earlier batch)

And then. IT HAPPENS! Bridget is turned into an ugly terrifying monster. Everyone LAUGHS at her. Everyone makes fun of her

And Bridget, who is confused, understands only ONE person could have done this to her. She looks at someone she was in love with. And just sees Ella and Charming laughing. Laughing at her. Bonding over laughing at HER.

Bridget runs off. In tears. Broken inside. With an equally broken heart.

Maybe if Ella had immediately realized her error and run after her she would have turned out differently. But no. It is proven that Ella stayed at the dance and stayed with Charming. They wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love if she left.

So Bridget. Spends the rest of the night terrified. Looking like a monster. And being laughed and screamed and made fun of everywhere she goes. And not only that. But her ONLY FRIEND. Her CRUSH. Someone she TRUSTED did this to her

Now THIS! THIS is something can break a person. This is something that can change their views on the world. On humanity itself. She was a kind girl. Was kind to everyone no matter how meanly they treated her. But through it all, Ella was her rock. Her friend. Her secret love. Someone who was good and kind through it all.

But she betrayed her. Tbe one nice person betrayed her. Showing that being nice doesn’t do it. Being nice does not mean good things happen. Being nice doesn’t is worthless if this is what it gets you. Everyone is two faced. And the only thing that’s real. The only thing she CAN feel. Is hurt. And pain. And fear. And so that’s what she swears to become. That’s what she swears to do. Be mean and cruel and heartless so she never has to feel all this pain ever again. So her eventual DAUGHTER never has to feel this again. It’s better to be alone and feared. Then alone and broken.

Ella probably realized the error of her ways the next day. But as she said. It was too late. Bridget was never the same.

This Explains why they had so many odd interactions. The raw feral burning chemistry between them. All the odd phrase. Why The Red Queen would be okay sending her BEST FRIEND to death. Why she would be okay killing her. And taking over auradon. To Her? Cinderella is the one who made her this way.

but also part of her still remembers. Still cares. It’s why she gave her once chance to kneel to her. (And as we’ve noted in the books and movies. She doesn’t give ANYONE else a second chance. She punishes I’m immediately and harshly)

And so! With all of this happening. Theirs gonna be some catylist in recent times. The Red Queen might be nice now. But something will have changed. Ella never went to the dance. (She clearly fell in love with charming somewhere else cause otherwise Chloe would have disappeared) but something happened when she wasn’t at the dance. Something that caused another problem. And THATS gonna be the sequel to this movie. Descendants : Rise of Red part two.

(as we’ve seen the official script for the movie is literally called Descendants : Rise of Red part one. MEANING they wrote it with the purpose of being part one to either a sequel or a threequal)

And THAT! Ladies and Gentleman, is what I think the REAL plot behind Descendants : Rise of Red is! A movie that is not idiotically not thought out at all, but really something so secretly genuis is blows your mind!

Hope you enjoyed!

[kaivenom]

Hi, my sister in arms. I have a request for you: Can you make a one-shot based in Descendants about Harry x reader x Uma, please? I can pay you in cookies, in chickens, in lands, or whatever you like. Thank you.

Lazy Nights on Hook's ship

Summary: being part of Uma's crew made life incredibly crazy, but sometimes, when the stress of commanding the territory fades away, you three can relax and spent a good time.

Pairing: Harry Hook x reader x Uma

Masterlist

This week was particulary rough, some revolts on the frontiers of the port, some betrayals from the crewmates and all the other things that come with the life on the island.

You are stood right in front of the Hook's family ship, with a bag of soft muffins, the best you could make with the bad ingredients on the island. You entered the ship turned into house and inmediately felt the warmth of cooking, apparently they started without you.

You walked to the kitchen guided by the sweet humming of a sailor song. Uma was sitting on the table, drinking some ron from a fancy cup while Harry was stirring up some dough.

"Hi gorgeous." inmediatly, a smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Hi, there, beautiful:"

You put the muffins on the counter, while Harry opens his mouth to ask for a piece. You smiled and placed a muffin on his mouth, giving him little perks on the cheeks and lips after. He made a small cute giggle and continue stirring while you went towards Uma and placed your hands on his shoulders.

"How is my favourite captain?" now it's her time to be showed in kisses.

"Good, better know that the three of us are together." her hand caressing your arm.

The humming continued, now the three of you contrinuting. Harry put the cookies on the oven, with a couple of kicks to make it work. You took your usual place on his lap while placing your legs on top of Uma's.

The ron and the card games were rolling between your hands for half an hour, waiting for the ding of the old hoven to sound. It's incredible to think about how their behavious changes when the three of you are together, and alone. Uma laughs more truly and Harry shows out his sweet spot.

"He was being an asshole, he is lucky i only broke his nose."

"No, no... you did it because he was looking at our little thing."

Uma's hand brushed you hair carefully, attaching you know with kisses. An innocent laugh escaped your lips while they both started to tickle you.

Suddently the ding on the hoven sounded, finally letting you start what you've been craving all week. The cookies and the muffins were ready, the drinks placed on the small dinning table in front of the old TV, the popcorn only needed two minutes to be made so easy task.

You three sat on the squeaky couch and set the TV on. Like always, there was nothing interest rather than Auradon TV and villain correctional chanel, but you three always liked to make jokes and make fun of the first one.

After a long week on the island of the lost, you know that no matter what, you always have Uma and Harry around to relax and be loved.

[kujiba]

¡MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE!

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: I made this while drunk /jk

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 5

Were you high? Possibly.

Did you feel like you were floating? 50/50

You stared directly at the glowing screen plastered infront of you, with your eyes full of focus.

CHOOSE YOUR ELEMENT: ELECTRO, HYDRO, PYRO, DENDRO, ANEMO, GEO, CRYO

'Ah.. This will be hard' You thought to yourself while nodding and looking away from it. Gazing your eyes back on the screen you either were highly delusional right now or...

You had been gifted the ultimate weapon! A system!

You're not a dumbass you've seen those novels, tv's, Mangas, animes, manwha, all that kind of stuff! So you had some bits and pieces on how to roll with this new kind of power.

Back to the main problem... Which element should you pick? Every element in the game is highly valuable and could be used with many different ways. The question is what would benefit you more in the situation you've been put upon.

Currently you had been locked in a cell by whoever knocked you unconscious, but your suspicion leaned more in the knights of favonius. You shaked your head telling yourself to deal with the problems one by one.

"Damn.. Which do I choose" You clenched your lips together tightly and scratched your chin with your own finger. Being indecisive and having a bit of a problem to choose from the choices given to you by the system.

You knew you had to pull your ultimate move.

"Innie, Minnie, Miny, moe..." You mumbled while your finger hopped it's way to each element on the screen "Catch a tiger by its toe if it hollows let it Go, Innie, Minnie Miny, moe." Your finger slowed down by the second and finally took a halt when the song ended.

You looked at the element carefully too see what the fate has given you!

"DENDRO"

YAHOO!!

Your excitement honestly didn't come from the element you choose but the thought you could have your own powers and vision!!

"Gimme DENDRO!" You declared to the system with a prideful voice, A systematic noise rang through your ears in a unpleasant way, soon after the noise came to a halt, a small glowing jeweled amulet began to descend from the air.

"Holy..!" You stared in awe as the jewel gently dropped to your hands. A familiar glowing green vision with it's outer areas decorated uniquely in a high quality silver material.

Quickly enough the system box appeared in front of you yet again.

"CONGRATULATIONS, LEVEL UP TO UNLOCK MORE SKILLS, POWER, AND ITEMS"

The system then showed a long box filled with words and numbers that you immediately understood from your long gaming experience.

[NAME]

Lvl 1 / 20

Max HP: 929

ATK: 34

DEF: 21

Elemental Mastery: 0

Max stamina: 240

Crit rate: 5%

Crit DMG: 50%

Energy Recharge: 300%

"..."

GODDAMN! Why was your energy Recharge so high?... Actually no- that isn't a bad thing, it'll be good for you to just keep spamming your burst till the enemy drops dead.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a pair of footsteps made their way too where you currently are, you quickly hid the vision behind your back, afraid they might try and take it from you if they ever found out about it.

A familiar blonde and brunette made their way in front of your cell, you gripped your vision tighter remembering clear as day what had happened, your suspicions not even faltering for a second.

"(Name)." Jean called out, she placed her hand on her chest while looking at you calmly. Amber was by her side looking at your every movement, Jean continued "Were not here to hurt you. It's the opposite really" Jean's eyes looked soft and humble...

But that doesn't excuse them for knocking you out so harshly.

You deathly wanted to talk back to her but kept your mouth shut, only biting your lip harder so that nothing would come out and spill something important.

"Please, don't be wary of us.. We're your friends" Okay now she was spouting bs. Sure you've met amber for ONLY a bit but Jean was still technically a stranger to you!

You sighed to yourself "How long are you going to keep me in here?" you asked with a tad bit of impatience, you leaned your head back on the solid wall while narrowing down your eyes at them.

Amber responded to your question "Its..it's for your own good (Name), please trust us. We're keeping you safe" Amber's tone was yet determined but also worried. Jean placed her hand on Amber's shoulder and nodded.

"We'll explain to you everything later" Jean was about to say something till you cut her off "Why not now?" You asked tilting your head to the side.

Jean looked at you then down at the ground "There.. Are still some important things we had to arrange. But even so don't try to escape, this is for your own good (Name)"

"Ha? What do you-- AND... they left" You grumbled seeing them leave you all alone in here again.

✿

"Hey system." You called out to it while playing around with your vision. The system appeared again by your side "What is it?"

A Google translator like voice came out of the box, you had this thought for a while now. "Will something happen to me when I escape this place?" You questioned it.

It took a while but the Ai voice returned "Judging from my information I have gathered. You are currently a 'GOD'."

Ha?

"What!? What do you mean, God!?" You exclaimed in a panicked voice. You? A God?

You were snapped out of your frenzy when you heared it's voice again "There is currently a popular and confirmed tale plus ballad that you are the creator of Teyvat. People began worshipping you after you had abruptly dissapered without any warning, so they prayed and worshipped, hoping to bring you back"

You were even more bewildered but also... Understanding? I guess? I mean you are the player who basically built everything in the game. But isn't also Cai Hauyo (Mihoyo) basically the creator of what had been created? You'll dive deeper into that later.

"So.. They're all after me now?" Your tone had a clear hint of worry. You didn't want to be on the run and just wanted a normal life! The system replied saying "Not quite yet. I belive only the knights of favonius must've known. But Im sure it won't be long till the whole mondstadt or even Teyvat will find out about your presence"

You grimaced at the thought of being hunted down by multiple people, especially if those beloved people that you used to grind hours on end for!

You shaked your head in disapproval "Yet I can't really stay here either can I, it seriously sucks" you stretched your legs out on the cold cement flooring, the exterior of the room you had been trapped in was definitely not suited to live in.

"Why are you eager to escape?" The system sought to find the answer, you gave it a long frown "First of all, I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life! I'll die of boredom before anybody could even reach me" The system responded with only small glitching noises, it seemed like it was trying to process the outcome of your actions.

You took that as a cue to continue your rant "Secondly, I'm not really trusting the Knight's of Favonius yet nor anybody in general here. When you said I'm a supposed 'God' that's already trouble going to bite me in the ass" You breathed heavily to catch your breath, letting that all out of your chest felt pretty good to be honest.

"I know they're up to something"

!?!?

Jean stared down at the stack of papers and files scattered around her desk. She took a deep breath and began to tidy things up around the office, a vivid memory flashed through her mind, a memory that wasn't that long ago.

Amber had gone out to continue her Outrider duties leaving Jean to take care of their business for the time being. Her lips trembled ever so slightly like a leaf being blown by the wind, so she quickly bit her lip with her eyes full of worry and dread.

A god was in a cell. A cell she placed them in. Or.. So she was assuming

Back then, Barbatos and the creator had a small fondness of each other. Tales and Ballads would often say they were friends, even with the gap between their ranks and powers, the creator treated everyone fairly no matter what rank. They adored their creations and thus, the creations adored them back.

If only they hadn't left so soon that Teyvat began to slowly crumble, leaving a nation to fall down, a nation to lock itself away from the rest of the world, a nation having their own Archon sacrifice themselves for their people.

If only...

Jean had her doubts. It wasn't the first time that a supposed 'Creator' stepped up only for them to experience demise and pain for their foolish actions.

The creator didn't have a confirmed face or appearance since they often changed what they look like, the creator did had 'Aura'.. That was only visible to vision holders. But of course, the humankind has evolved and people began to come up with a 'Fake Aura' that was the exact replica of the creator's.

Her feet paced back and forth through the room, deciding on what to do with the supposed 'God' that was locked away in a cell.... Should she eliminate them now? False identity was a crime. And when it comes to the creator, no one is spared nor given mercy.

"...Their too suspicious, Why only now did they appear? They must've been like the others." She whispered to herself, her thoughts running wild about them.

A 50/50.

They were either the actual creator

Or they are a fake.

And Jean's choice began to tilt towards the one most logical.

"Tomorrow. We will arrange a public execution"

!!!

"GAHHH!! AGHHH" You desperately tried to concentrate on your mind to activate your vision powers "What the heck how does this work!?" You gripped the amulet tighter with your left eye twitching violently. Your annoyance only filled more as the messages of the system flooded in your face.

"Try concentrating more calmly. What are you doing? Taking a shit?" The system taunted you while also sending some emojis.

"I'm trying okay!? How do you..." You trailed your words off, having a random flashback of when you still were at earth for some reason.

"Hey how are you always so calm?" You asked your friend filled with curiosity, they looked up at your eyes. Seeing your curiosity they hummed "Well I mostly think about my happy memories and things that I like. It's like day dreaming you know?" They answered your thoughts calmly.

"What?? You sound like one of those cliché characters in shows lol."

You blankly stared at the wall after the flashback had ended. Your head turned to the system "That was your doing ain't it?" You deadpanned seeing that the system had completely ignored you and instead sent whistling emojis.

You groaned finally giving in since you had no other ideas anyway. "Agh... Fine, worth a shot" You grumbled giving in to the cliché idea.

You relaxed down your body as your shoulders began to lower along with your guard, you cleared your head, thinking nothing but a blank space for some moments. When you felt ready you had began to imagine all the joyful things that you deeply favored for the past years. All of that gathered into one moment inside your brain.

The vision glowed brightly in your hands, it's viridescent color taking up the whole dimly lit room, even the system kept quiet with the messages so that you could concentrate better on finally unlocking some skills.

And just that, in a short while the vision began to lose its light.

Fluttering your eyes open you took a look around your body to see any changes, to your dissapointment there wasn't any difference. "Did it work?" You wanted to know if you were finally able to throw plants or something.

Suddenly, you slightly jumped seeing confetti pop out of nowhere. The systems screen had massive words placed for you to see.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON UNLOCKING YOUR VISION !!

Reward:

+50,000 Mora

+Cake For The Player

+Personal Companion"

'Personal Companion?'

You were curious to see what it was but for now, you had to focus on breaking out of this hell hole. "System! So like uh, what can I do for now?" You rubbed the back of your head still pretty much a newbie to all this powers stuff.

"Throw out your companion. Call out it's name, 'Taube' and break the damn wall to escape"

"Taube?..." You mumbled it's name unsure at first but your doubts had quickly vanished as your eyes landed on a... Dove?

The Dove (Taube) was pure as a snow, it's wings flapping in the air gently with the inner layer of its feathers being a stunning (Color). Other than that, it looked like a pretty beautiful dove soaring in the sky.

"Wait so, what can it do?" You tilted your head at it questionably. "Make Taube attack the wall so you can see" The system answered your calling, you silently nodded your head at the systems words.

If the Dove was basically part of your power, then it could basically read through your mind! then.... 'Taube, I choose you!!'

Like a smooth cut of a knife, Taube had sliced through the wall with their wing, leading to the fresh and flourishing outside.

You were lying if you didn't say you were impressed and amazed by how easily Taube destroyed the wall. A wide smile appeared on your face as you didn't waste a single moment and ran out to the outside and away from that wretched room.

The air was clean and felt good as you inhaled as much as you can, the sweet scent of dandelions being all over the land was just a touch of freedom. The wind blew over your clothes and hair, wrinkling and messing it all up slightly.

"Man..." You muttered while straightening and fixing yourself up to look a slight bit more presentable. You looked around seeing Taube flying over to your vision, confusion hitted you but shock struck you harder for some quick seconds.

Your eyes widened, watching how Taubes body began to get absorbed by the vision, you panicked alot thinking your powerful animal companion is going to dissperse and never appear again but you quickly remembered that Taube is originally made from your vision anyway.

So you could summon them anytime! :D

A sigh of relief escaped through your lips, your eyes lingered on the body of Taube one last time, in impulse you softly stroked it's head before it faded away from your line of view.

Brushing those thoughts aside, you took a look around the vast land of Mondstadt. You weren't used to seeing how clean and green it was compared to earth where everything is in the brink of collapsing.

BUT! that wasnt your problem right now.

You didn't think twice to bolt your ass out of there and find a new hiding place, A cave? A abandoned house? Anything is fine! cause your gut kept telling you something bad will happen if you stay too long in there!

Wow. Who knew that you would be escaping from there when just a few chapters ago you were fangirling about living in mondstat?

Anyways...

'FREEDOM!!'

A/n: Short but active hehe

This is what the Dove kinda looks like btw, you could leave it to your imagination v

[dantakeyoman]

You Sing Neteyam His Mother’s Songcord In Order To Calm Him Down (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: fluffy angst, Neteyam is angry with his father, reader is such a good girlfriend ( you two are promised but haven’t mated yet ), kenten is the swirling gecko from the first movie, atokirina are the little floating seeds.

“Why must I always take responsibility for his actions?! I may be the older brother, but that does not mean I should be the one punished!” Neteyam vented, angrily skipping a rock across the bioluminescent water of the river.

“Have you tried telling your father this? Maybe he’ll listen,” you softly suggested, trying to give some sort of comfort to him.

You hadn’t seen Neteyam this mad in a long time.

He and Lo’ak were supposed to be lookouts for the most recent raid on the Sky people, but, like usual, Lo’ak rushed in without thinking and ended up getting them both grounded.

A lot of good that was doing seeing Neteyam sneaked out to meet you.

“Of course I have! But he never listens! He treats me and Lo’ak like soldiers. We are not family to him. For Eywa’s sake, I have to call him sir!” Neteyam exclaimed, roughly running a hand through his braids.

In a yell of frustration, he walks over to the tree you were resting against and punches it with all his might, leaving a fairly sized dent.

The vibrations shook you to your core, and was your wake up call to calm him down before he did something rash.

“Mawhey, Neteyam. Don’t let your anger crowd you reason,” you said with furrowed brows, your stern tone snapping him out of it.

No matter how mad, there was no reason to strike the tree.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at the ground with balled fists.

You sighed, replacing your frown with a smile and holding out your hand to him.

“Come,” you beckoned, any trace of scolding now gone.

He huffed, begrudgingly taking your hand, letting out an oof when you roughly yanked him down to the ground, placing his head in your lap.

“(y/n), what are you doin-?” “Hush,” you shushed, placing a finger to his lips.

He kept quiet, and you moved a stray braid out his face, fixing your shoulders against the tree so you were comfy.

“Lie si oe Neteyamur. Nawma sa’nokur, mìfa oeyä,” you sang, running your fingers through his hair so softly, it made Neteyam almost loathe the way he did it earlier.

He looked up at you awestruck, surprised and confused as to how you knew the song his mother sang to him throughout his childhood, the memories that came flooding back washing away all the anger he held before.

“Atanti ngal molunge, mìpa tìreyti, mìpa tìkanti,” you continued, turning towards the beautiful river that stood next to you.

It was all so tranquil. Your voice, the flowing water, the head massage. 

He was soon forgetting why he was so angry in the first place.

“Lawnol a mì te’lan. Lawnol a mì te’lan,” you both looked up to see a kenten jump off from higher branch, it’s frills unfurling as it calmly floated down to the ground.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, tonìri tìreyä. Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, Srrìri tìreyä.”

Neteyam could feel his head nodding, his eyelids becoming impossibly heavy. 

And looking at you...you were ethereal. Smiling and glowing, beaming down like rays of pure sunlight.

All for him.

And that’s when he saw a flurry of atokirina descending from above.

You noticed his change in expression and looked up as well, only to see the seeds circling the both of you, hanging in the air like stars right before your eyes.

“Ma Eywa, Ma Eywa,” you finished, a soft smile gracing your lips as an atokirina landed in the palm of your hand.

And after letting it rest for a moment, you held it up and allowed it to float away, the others following suit.

Probably on their way to grace another.

“You see, Neteyam? This is a sign from Eywa. You father means no harm. He loves and cares for you deeply, and only wants what’s best for you,” you smiled, placing a feather-light kiss between his eyes.

But Neteyam didn’t see it that way.

He saw it as a sign from Eywa saying that no matter how bad things got, angry, frustrating, or scary, you would be there. You would be his escape, his safety, his peace.

He had no responsibilities with you ( except protecting you, of course ). When alone, it was just you and him.

And all he had to do was lay down, rest, and listen contently as you sang.

[tomriddleslove]

Pt 4 - Drunk words are sober thoughts.

✩ Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: The one where Pansy organises a dinner party, you’re on the run from Theo, and bad decisions are made. Alternatively: Uncomfortable awkward tension, then smut.

A/N: We aren’t out of the trenches yet. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper with this one.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

Please let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list!

MDNI!

Tags: Smut (duh),Drunk sex, PIV, Hair pulling, praise.

Songs: Love survive - Michael Nau

Star Treatment - Arctic Monkeys

The sun filters through the cracks in the blinds, casting an almost heavenly glow on your bed. The warmth was soothing, and you’d almost call it a very peaceful morning.

That is, of course, if you weren’t woken by Pansy yanking the covers off you, tossing them to the side.

You groan sleepily, rolling over as you try to shield your eyes.

“Oh come on! Merlin, you've been asleep for so long! Everyone else is up! I refuse to let you spend all holiday rotting in bed.” She nags, grabbing your arm as she tries to pull you up. You let your body go limp, the dead weight pulling you back onto the bed as you use your free hand to pull a pillow over your head.

“You know Pansy, have you ever considered my idea of a holiday is sleeping in all day?” You mumble and she tuts, grabbing the pillow from you.

“Nonsense. I’ll kill you if we don't make the most of this.”She admonishes, faffing around you like a mother hen as she walks around your shared room with Theodore (who notably wasn't there, his bed made.) She opens your closet and takes the liberty of choosing you an outfit as she flicks through your clothing, speaking again.

“We're going to celebrate the start of this beautiful Holiday I have so kindly provided us with. We’re making dinner and having a small dinner party. Nice clothes, naturally. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore will be making the starters, and Draco, Blaise and I will be making the main, which means you’re in charge of dessert. Consider it a penalty for waking so late.” Pansy explained as she crouched down to sort through your other clothes.

You grumble, muttering childishly under your breath as you sit up, on the edge of your bed as you come to your senses.

“I'm putting poison in yours.” You half-joke, and she isn't phased as she tosses you a floral white sundress and a handful of jewellery. You dodge the assortment of gold sent towards you and you glare at her.

“There. You’ll have to change for dinner but this is good for now. We’re all downstairs, but I sent some of the boys to fetch the ingredients. Chop chop!” She calls out, as she descends down the stairs.

Pansy. She truly tested your patience.

You manage to drag yourself up from the warm confines of your bed as you head over to the bathroom, going to take a shower. You walk past Theodore's bed as you do so, and you see his copy of Little Women lying on his bedside table. Curiosity tugs at you.

It would be bad to take a peek, right? I mean, he did hand it to you that day in the library. Granted, he took it back right after, but surely that implied you could take a look.

You (rather weakly) justify your decision and pick up the book, thumbing through the pages as your eyes scan over the various annotations and underlined passages Theodore had analysed.

One in certain catches your attention. There, messily underlined, is the quote:

“Watch and pray, dear, never get tired of trying, and never think it is impossible to conquer your fault.”

Followed by “No. 4” scrawled in Theodore's handwriting. You frown, confusion etched on your face as you try to decipher what the four could possibly mean. You flick through the rest of the book, trying to spot any other instances.

“You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.”

No. 7

I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, - couldn't help it, you've been so good to me, - I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me; now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer.

No. 5

You couldn't seem to find any rhyme or reason for this labelling. It was simply random parts of the text underlined every now and then with a number next to them, as though some sort of list. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you're itching to look for more when the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs snaps you out of it. You quickly shut the book, placing it back down as you grab your dress and towel, dashing into the bathroom. You just manage to lock the bathroom door when you hear the door to your room click open, and you let out a small breath of relief. Your mind is working tirelessly, trying to decipher the cryptic annotations as you take a shower.

You finish off and get dressed in the bathroom, taking your time to avoid Theodore. By your luck, when you unlock the bathroom door and peer out the small gap, Theodore is not there, and you let out a small sigh as you step out.

You put on the jewellery Pansy set out for you and slip on some socks, combing through your wet hair as you dry it lightly. Satisfied with how you looked (you did feel rather pretty, in all honesty), you make your way downstairs.

The kitchen is empty, save for Blaise putting the groceries away into the fridge. You grin as you walk over to join him, his eyes flickering over to you as you walk in.

“Morning. You got your rest, didn't you?” He teases and you shoot him a mocking smile, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, make fun of me all you want.” You sigh as you reach for the second bag, helping him put everything away.

“Where is everyone else?” You ask.

“Pansy and Lorenzo went out to get drinks, and I'm pretty sure the rest found some sort of creek or something so I think they went out for a swim,” Blaise says and you hum, nodding.

Come to think of it, you had completely forgotten about the rather surprising development between Blaise and Pansy. You and Lorenzo had bet on it as well. Deciding to pay Pansy back the favour, you begin probing into their little dilemma.

“So Blaise, tell me. What's going on between you and Pansy?” You ask, and he chokes on the coffee he was sipping as he sets the cup down. You open one of the cupboards, storing away a packet of pasta as he looks at you.

“What do you mean?” He responded, and a small grin tugged at your lips.

“Oh come on, don't act all shy now. This whole flirting thing you have going on.” You say, vaguely motioning in his direction as you put some fruits in the fruit bowl resting on the kitchen island.

“There's nothing. Just friend.” He denies, and you turn to him, resting against the island.

“Sure. Just one thing? You're both stubborn fools. Don't let that prevent anything.” You advise, looking at him. You grab an apple, tossing it into the air before catching it as you walk past Blaise, patting him on the back.

“Right now, out. I need to start prepping the dessert.” You say, and for the first time in your life, you see Blaise ever so slightly red.

He playfully grins as he walks out, and you tie your damp hair up as you look through what the boys bought.

You settle on a classic after taking note of the copious amounts of cream cheese the boys had bought (You were reminded to never ever ask them to go shopping, and you'd be sure to remind Pansy the same.)

A salted caramel cheesecake. You decided to make the biscuit base yourself - it would serve as a good way to pass the time seeing as you had the whole day to yourself.

Before you begin cooking, you wander over to the living room. Your eyes settle on a collection of vinyl records in the corner, and you sift through the sleeves, settling on one that doesn't look immediately terrible.

You carefully place the vinyl onto the turntable, the soft crackle of the needle hitting the record filling the room. The sound of a smooth jazz melody starts playing, creating a cosy atmosphere in the kitchen. As the music envelops the space, you begin gathering the ingredients for the biscuit base.

You preheat the oven and begin making the biscuits, sifting flour into the bowl as you work. It's surprisingly relaxing, the villa is empty and you're left to your own devices, humming along to the music as you bake. Sure, you definitely weren't the cleanest baker. A simple biscuit recipe had left you with a white powder coating over the kitchen, stacks of bowls in the sink and somehow, flour on your clothes as well. You huff, dusting down your dress as you place the haphazardly shapen uncooked biscuits into the oven. It didn't matter whether they looked good or not - you'd be crushing them anyway.

It only takes about 15 minutes before the delicious aroma of vanilla fills the kitchen, You're admittedly pleased at just how good they smell, and you can only hope they taste as good as they smell.

Whilst those finish off, you begin making the actual filling of the cake. You reach for one of the bowls when a certain song begins playing, your ears perking up at the sound.

“This is my conquering song

played on a wave so strong

pulled the broke-down ride for far too long”

You lightly sing along to the lyrics, a small smile tugging on your lips as you do so. You had always imagined this song to be blissfully domestic, something you'd willingly play if you were to cook or bake, so the fact you selected it by chance made you oddly happy.

Sometimes it was the little things that count.

With a little pep in your step, you walk around the kitchen as you gather the ingredients. Liberated by the villa having no other occupants, your movements are freer, a small little (unnecessary) spin or a little break to sing along as you cook.

Now, it had been long established that you really did not have the best awareness of your surroundings. This continued to be the case now because you were sure you would have stopped immediately if you had seen Theodore leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, looking over at you.

Unfortunately for you, you did not notice him.

Theodore leans against the doorway, his eyes fixated on you. They always would be, he couldn't not look at you even if he tried to.

A fond smile is tugging at his lips, watching as you lightly sing along to the song. It's offkey, and your impromptu dance moves incorporated with your haphazard baking skills is laughable, but Theodore can only look at you and feel simultaneously so happy yet also so terrified. Terrified because he acknowledges how such a simple sight can't get that smile off his face, and the fact someone has the capability of doing that to him seems daunting. He was scared because, for a brief second, he imagined walking over and helping you. You'd look up at him with that smile of yours.

God, that smile.

You have that little impish look in your eyes, ready to poke fun at him. He does the same with you. The worst thing is if he hadn't fucked up so royally, you could have been doing that.

Instead, he pushes off the doorway to go and help you. The first part goes as expected, you see him and you yelp, spinning around. He knew your ears would turn red, as they usually did when you got embarrassed. Theodore knew you like that.

He knew you'd look at him akin to a deer caught in headlights because your mind would go blank for a second. Theodore knew you like that.

He also knew you well enough to know that, despite his own hopes of your once confused and mortified face breaking into a wide grin, it would instead fall and you would avert your eyes.

Theodore knew you like that.

He hated it.

“Oh. Hey.” You utter, clearing your throat. You berated yourself for always acting so obviously on edge when Theodore was near. He looks down at you with an indescribable look in his eyes before he speaks.

“Hey. Need help?” He asks, and you look around at the messy kitchen, before shaking your head.

You actually did, but you'd be damned if you had to spend more time with Theodore, alone. You'd either end up dead silent or stammering some embarrassing declaration. You couldn't tell which one would be worse.

“Alright.” He mused, looking down at you. He doesn't make any move to leave though, and you're hyper-aware of the fact that he is very close to you.

His hand comes up, cupping the side of your face gently as his thumb brushes against your cheekbone. His hand is there for a second too long, crossing the boundary of what it should have been. Again, it seemed as though everything you and Theodore did crossed that boundary.

“You had flour on your cheek,” he says, and you nod, drawing away your face. You turn around, praying to the gods above that they'd stop torturing you and make Theodore leave. You keep your back to him as you continue cooking, and he seems to finally leave, making you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You hasten your cooking after that and you're out of the kitchen in no less than 20 minutes with the cheesecake stored in the fridge as you make your way to Pansy’s room. You absolutely would not go back up to yours, as you were sure Theodore was there.

Exactly how long did you plan on running from him?

Hours have passed lazing away on Pansy’s bed, bored out of your mind when she finally returns.

“Finally.” You sassed, sitting up as she raised a brow at you.

“Why are you waiting here?” She asks, and you shrug.

“Can I not miss my friend?” You quip and she eyes you, knowing there must be another reason. She chooses not to probe further, however, joining you on her bed.

“We ought to get ready. I did tell the boys to dress nicely, we’re dignified people.”She chided as she got up, walking over to her closet.

You giggle at her swift change of actions and lean back on her bed, looking over at Pansy.

Her love for micromanaging you often was a negative, but now it could very much be a huge positive.

“Pans… You always know just how to style me right. Can you run up to my room and choose a look for me? I'm hopeless.” You groan, putting your hand on your chin in an exaggerated display of hopelessness. Her eyes light up, as though she was a little kid playing dress up, and she nods.

“Finally, you've come to your senses! I know exactly what I'm getting, wait here.” She gasps, scampering upstairs. You grin, having successfully avoided Theodore once again.

(The answer to the previous question? You'd run from him for a very long time, seemingly.)

Despite her reassurances, Panys arrives a solid half an hour later, a scarlet lace dress clutched in her hands. An impulse buy, the dress was shorter than what you usually wore. It had a fitted bodice but a flowy skirt, though it only reached your upper thigh. The long sleeves that extended down into flowy bell sleeves had to be your favourite feature of it, alongside the bustier style bodice at the front. She grins as she passes over the dress, alongside a pair of black boots.

“Dressed nicely but not too fancy. Plus I've been dying to see you wear this, so up and change.” She demands, pushing you up. You grin lightly at her antics as you take the dress, disappearing into the bathroom to change. You run your hands down your body as you admire yourself in the mirror. A hell of a good impulse buy, the dress looked incredible. The low cut was far out of your comfort zone but boundaries were meant to be pushed, right?

(No, they were not.)

Pansy gasps as you step out, pulling you over as she admires the dress, words of praise leaving her lips.

“You look so good! Oh my god, wear this everywhere.” She gushes, and you smile shyly.

“Thanks, Pans. Really. And you look incredible too, like positively mouthwatering,” You say and she grins, doing a small twirl in her satin black dress. After styling your hair and doing some light makeup, you make your way over to the dining room, which had already been set up beautifully.

The table, adorned with a crisp white tablecloth, is set meticulously with polished silverware, crystal glasses, and porcelain plates. A centrepiece of fresh flowers in varying shades of red and white adds a touch of elegance, their fragrance mingling with the soft glow of candles placed strategically around the room.

Pansy's attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the setup. Delicate linen napkins, folded artfully, rest atop each plate. You begin to feel excited for the evening, walking over to the kitchen as you look for everyone else. Theodore, Lorenzo and Mattheo are all in the kitchen, sorting panicking over the starters as they rush around like headless chickens. You step in and Lorenzo spots you, a wide grin breaking out on his face.

“Wow wow wow. Look at who we have here.” Lorenzo says admiringly, calling over the attention of the other two boys. You grin, ironically doing a small little pose to shake away the awkwardness of their gazes on you.

“Stunning!” Mattheo announces, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he ruffles your hair. You groan with disdain as you jab him in the side.

“Ow!” Mattheo complains, letting go as he frowns, rubbing his side.

“The bloody devil, you are.” He mumbles, glaring at you, A small laugh escapes your lips.

You affectionately pat him on the cheek, before turning to Lorenzo.

“What do you need help with?” You ask them, and Lorenzo shakes his head.

“Nothing. You go and rest, we’ll come serve them soon.” He says, and you nod.

You've been avoiding Theodore's gaze the whole time you've been in here, but you stupidly can't resist looking up at him and instantly regret it when he staring at you so intently. His eyes meet yours and he seemingly snaps out of it, swallowing harshly.

You quickly walk back to the dining room.

A solid 4 hours or so later, you're all lounging in the living room, stomachs full with what was a surprisingly good meal. Whilst the starters were good, Blaise, Pansy and Draco had really knocked it out of the park with the main, a mouthwateringly good risotto that you helped yourself twice to. The cheesecake seemed to be a crowd-pleaser though, with Draco having three slices.

With a glass of whiskey loosely held in your hand, you take a sip, leaning back into the couch. Whilst you tried to fit the aesthetic and sip some wine, you couldn't bear the taste and (truthfully) wanted to get drunk tonight.

It was a lazy and subdued atmosphere, and you didn't even notice Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Mattheo all retiring back to their rooms. You yawn as you get up, stumbling slightly (you had drunk quite a bit actually). You sleepily bid goodnight to the remaining two ( as vaguely as possible because god forbid you say Theodore's name) and make your way upstairs (in one piece.)

You walk into your room and kick off your boots, wandering over to your bed as you begin taking off your jewellery. You look up a mere few seconds later when Theodore walks in, seemingly equally as drunk as he looks at you. He shuts the door, yawning as he pulls off his knitted jumper, leaving him with his white t-shirt on. He throws his sweater somewhere to the side as he flops down onto his bed with a sigh, rummaging through his pockets as he produces a lighter. You can't help but openly stare at him as he does so, alcohol freeing you of what little inhibitions you had.

Something about the sight of Theodore laying on his bed, lazily smoking a cigarette with his slightly messy hair and those damn eyes….

You could see his muscles shift every time he brought the cigarette up to his lips, and you didn't realise smoking could be so erotic.

For some awfully stupid reason, really I mean, you had to question your own sanity, you get up, walking over to Theodore. You're alarmingly quiet as you approach him, and don't say a word as you stand there. His eyes flicker up to you, and suddenly you realise:

Alcohol + tension + two rash people

Is not a very good mix.

You reach down, plucking the cigarette from his fingers. Theodore observes you with a small smile, those sinful eyes of his boring into you as you take a drag, before passing the cigarette back to him.

“He was right,” Theodore says after a second, looking up at you, You tilt your head. If you were already slow at making these connections, the alcohol only made it worse.

“Hmm?” You hum.

“Mattheo. You did look stunning today.” Theodore says, voice low.

Instead of doing what you usually did (some awful combination of looking away, panicking or just remaining quiet), a lazy smirk tugs at your lips as you look down at Theodore.

“Yeah?” You question, and you're 100% sure you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Theodore's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering across his face as he absorbs your murmured words.

Tentatively, as though testing the waters, he sits up, back propped up against the headboard as he looks up at you. His hand tugs at the sleeve of your dress, pulling you down, His hand rests on the curve of your hip, massaging light circles, and you go dizzy at the feeling.

You make no effort to move.

Rather, in a bold surge of confidence that quite literally materialised from nowhere, you swing your leg over Theodore's lap, straddling him. His hands immediately find their place on your hips, as though they're meant to be there, and he's looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

You knew this was a bad idea, but the alcohol spoke prettier words than your rationale did.

“You certainly know how to make an impression.” He murmurs his fingers trailing lightly along your thigh. You resist the urge to shudder at his touch, goosebumps erupting on your skin as he touches you. You lean closer, admiring the features of his face as you speak, mere inches away from one another.

“Well, I had someone to impress.” You say. He lets out a small, wry laugh, though he's far too consumed with looking at you.

Close the gap. Do it.

You do.

With a surge of hunger, your hands fist his shirt, pulling him in. His hand cups the back of your head as he meets your lips in a passionate kiss, mouths melding together. He holds you tightly, his grip both possessive and comforting at the same time.

The bulge of his clothed cock presses against your wetness, grinding against you with a desperate need. A small meek escapes your lips and it’s as though Theodore immediately swallows the sound, tongue slipping into your mouth as you continue to make out. It’s simultaneously lazy yet desperate - hungry.

"Fuck," Theodore murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desire. "You're driving me insane." He mutters, trailing open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. You moan, arching your back as you tilt your head back, giving him easier access. He wastes no time in sucking and kissing the delicate skin of your neck, tongue soothing the places he nips at you, your skin blossoming red and purple.

His hand trails down your body, his fingertips tracing along the swell of your breasts. A low groan escapes your lips, hands coming up to thread through his hair. You tug lightly and feel him smile against your neck. With deliberate slowness, he undoes the lace on the back of your dress as he continues to press sloppy kisses to your skin, undoing the top as he tugs it down. He pulls back, eyes hungrily taking in the sight.

He flips you over with alarming ease, pinning you down onto the mattress as he hovers above you, holding your hands down by the side of your head as he begins kissing down your neck to your breasts.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs, large hands coming up to cup one of them, the other holding your hands in place. He squeezes one of your nipples, pinching the bud lightly between his fingers as you gasp, arching off the bed. The sound is music to his ears, and he grins, his eyes remaining on you as he leans down and takes the other one into his mouth, tongue running over the sensitive bud as he pulls away, blowing lightly.

The contrast sends you into a haze, and a whimper escapes your lips. Theodore wants to devour the sound, he simply can’t get enough.

“Do you know how fucking long you’ve been on my mind?” He mutters, voice laced with desperation as he leans back down to kiss you, bulge grinding against your clothed cunt in a way that had you desperate for more. You can’t even formulate a response, because you’re all too consumed by Theodore. Everything about him.

He sits up slightly, hands resting on your thigh as he runs his hands up and down, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your dress.

You feel his fingers brush against the damp spot on your panties and swear that Theodore Nott will be the death of you.

Seemingly satisfied, a small smirk tugs at his lips, observing your reactions as he slowly pulls them down. He throws them to the side, and words cannot describe the look on his face as his eyes hungrily rake over you.

You needed him, every bone in your body ached with a visceral need for Theodore. Your hands come down to his belt, tugging at the buckle as you look over at Theodore, eyes glazed over as you were driven mad with your need for him.

He undoes his belt, the sound of the metal buckle clinking as he throws it onto your bed, unzipping his slacks. You can make out the bulge of his erection against his boxers and your heart skips a beat. You’re filled with this primal need to just have Theodore, you need as much of him as physically possible.

You tug his boxers down, freeing his strained erection from its confines. You swallow harshly at the sight of his cock, the tip glistening. You lean up to meet his lips in a kiss, your hands wrapping around his length as you give him a single jerk. You suddenly realise why Theodore was kissing you the way he was because the low groan that escaped Theodore's lips had you mad for more.

“Look at what you’ve done to me.” He murmurs, pushing you back onto the bed. He hiked the skirt of your dress up over your hips, eyes straying down as he spoke.

“You’ve unravelled every thread of control I have.” He says against your lips, teasingly running the head of his cock between your folds. A low moan escapes you, desperately seeking more friction.

“I’m going fucking crazy for you. I ache for you every second of the fucking day.” He mutters, and you pull back from the kiss, looking up at him.

“You have me now.” You respond.

His lips surge forward and meet yours in a kiss with renewed intensity, slowly thrusting into you.

You both let out a collective low groan as he slowly thrusts into you, and you can feel every inch of Theodore within, stretching you out so good you feel as though the simplest movement would split you open. A plethora of gasped curses escape your lips, but Theodore silences them instantly, coming down to kiss you deeply. He buried himself inside you fully, savouring the way you stretched to accommodate him, clenching tightly. He gives you a second to adjust before slowly pulling out. He rocks back in again, his moments slow and measured, but strained as though it’s taking every inch of self-restraint to not ravage you there and then.

“More. Don’t be nice.” You moan, and Theodores swears he won’t ever be the same again. One look at you, hair splayed out against the mattress, your back arched off the bed. It’s a sight he’d never forget.

“Don’t say shit like that. I’m already close to losing it.” He utters, voice strained as his hand grip your hips harshly, surely leaving imprints.

“Good. Ruin me.” You whisper, a fucked-out grin on your face.

Theodore groans, pulling out slightly before slamming back into you. You gasp, cursing as your hands grip Theodore's sheets. He sets a ruthless pace, fucking into you hard. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, though you’re sure it had to be muffled by the moans leaving your lips. It was only then that you were thankful for having a room all the way on the top floor. You both were too drunk to realise Muffliato did exist.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well. It’s like you were fucking made for my cock” Theodore groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hands come up, running along his back as you lean up (to the best of your ability) to meet him in a kiss.

Theodore's forehead presses against yours, breaths mingling as he shifts slightly, before thrusting back into you. You can feel every inch of his cock brush against your walls, and you can’t help the pathetic plethora of moans and whimpers escaping your lips when he brushes against that spot, stoking a fire in your stomach.

“Theodore- Fuck! ‘m gonna…” You babble, and he lazily smirks, slowing down slightly as one hand tangles in your hair, tugging at it lightly. He experimentally plays with it for a second before harshly tugging your hair, eliciting another moan that felt like it came from the depths of your body, the line of pain and pleasure blurred.

“Hmm? You’ll have to speak up.” He hums, teasing you with shallow, slow thrusts.

You let out a whimper at the loss of contact, frustration gnawing at you as you look up at Theodore.

“Fuck, stop being such a tease. Please just..” You whimper, trailing off and he tuts, his grip on your hair tightening slightly as he forces you to look up at him.

“You have to tell me what you want. I don’t speak in half sentences, sweetheart.” He says, voice laced with an almost animalistic pleasure.

You groan, nails digging into Theodore's back as some slight form of retaliation.

“I’m gonna cum- please.” You say, breathlessly, and a small smirk tugs at his lips, his hand loosening its vice-like grip from your hair as it trails down the side of your face, his thumb running along your bottom lip.

“Good girl. Since you asked so nicely,” He muses, no longer teasing you with shallow thrusts as he wastes no time slamming back into you, cock brushing against your cervix. You moan, eyes rolling back as the heat in your stomach rises rapidly; the sensation of Theodore fucking into you was pure perfection.

“Theo…” You moan, breathlessly. He responds to you moaning his name with a harsh snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips as he grabs them tightly.

“Say it again.” He grunts, his thumb coming down to rub harsh circles against your neglected clit, sending a surge of electricity through you.

“Mmm- Ah, Fuck- Theo-“ You moan, and you’re sure you would have done it without him even asking.

“You close? Gonna cum on my cock?” He groans, and you’re sure you’ve become mush because you can’t respond, can’t think, your mind and body reduced down to one simple thing.

Theodore. Theodore, Theodore, Theodore.

You teeter impossibly close to your climax, nails scratching down his back. The sheer ecstasy was too much, and you felt like you couldn’t handle it but also like you needed more and more.

His eyes take over you, as if even though you're both inebriated, he tried to commit every little detail to memory, the way you moaned, mascara streaked around those eyes of yours.

His thrusts grow more intense, fingers working their magic against your clit as he brings you to your release. His relentless thrusts push you close to the edge over and over again,, eliciting a strangled moan from your lips as you feel his thrusts become sloppier, indicating that he was close. With what little strength you have left you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as his lips descend down onto you, ravishing you with messy kisses. It takes one last thrust for you to be sent hurtling over the edge, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as your orgasm crashes through your body with frightening force. Your walls clench around Theodore's cock, eliciting a low groan from him as he chases his own release, eyes never leaving yours.

It’s positively sinful, but he’s sure he’s never seen a prettier sight.

“Fuck-“ He grunts, his movements becoming erratic as you feel him twitch inside you. your legs don’t give in, though you’re surprised you have the strength as the rest of your body convulses with the sheer intensity of your orgasm.

“So fucking perfect.” He gasps, and with one final thrust, he stalls, burying himself deep inside you as he groans, hands momentarily tightening their grip on your hips before relaxing slightly. He utters your name with reverence like a sinful prayer, coming down to press lazy kisses to your lips as he releases deep inside you.

You reciprocate the kisses, and embarrassingly whimper at the loss of contact as Theodore pulls out of you, collapsing down next to you. You’re both breathless, panting as you come down from a high you've never experienced before. The post-orgasmic haze lingers over you, making you feel impossibly sleepy. Your eyes flicker over to Theodore and it’s evident that he feels the same. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the red spattering along his neck, not realising when you had done that.

In any other situation, you both wouldn’t have done this in the first place. But the effects of the alcohol had you both giving into temptation, and you didn’t fully comprehend just how badly you both had fucked up.

You roll over, pressing a teasing kiss to the hollow of his throat as he tugs the blankets over the two of you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him. He rests his face in the crook between your neck and your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder with an arm wrapped around your waist. You let out a small sigh of contentment, wrapping an arm around him as his hand massages your back and side lightly, the tender feeling sending you further into that sleepy state. The sheets smell of Theodore, and you find yourself (as you often did) consumed by him.

You and Theodore both fall asleep in each other's arms, holding onto one another as the night passes by.

You had fucked up, truly.

If only you knew the consequences your actions would bring in the morning.

You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, for it was a known saying that drunk words are sober thoughts.

The same undeniably applied to actions too.

@llpovi @camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8

[evilwizard]

The Lich Who Stole Christmas

Every tumblrina in tumblr liked Christmas a lot.

But the lich, who lived just north of Tumblr, did not!

The lich hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his skull wasn’t screwed on quite right. It could be, perhaps, that his skin was too tight.

But I think that the likeliest reason of all… was his heart was encased by a strange lead-lined ball.

“Last year I made something that I thought in would usher

A new age of magic—my prized OrphanCrusher.

But my patents were stolen, and my sweet new invention

Is now being used… with good-ish intentions.

You see, Christmas wishes contain lots of magic;

And my device extracts it through methods so tragic

That I dare not mention them directly here

Though the name might clue in certain readers, I fear.

The Wizard Council, now that they possess this device,

Might use it, this year, to stamp out wizard vice.

Though the process might turn quite a few kids to carrion,

The Wiz Council’s ethics are utilitarian.

So what shall I do? What is to be done?

It seems rather clear that this Christmas can’t come.

But I’ve read a few books, and I know a few tricks

So this year I’ll steal Christmas, while dressed as Saint Nick!”

So the wizard of evil returned to his lair

Stitched a red suit, and did up his hair

Built a sleek sled—and—who among us,

Could hope for a much better Rudolph than Krongus?

They took to the skies, that next Christmas Eve,

And tailgated Santa, whom they hoped to deceive

At every house he left presents, they quickly descended,

And stole the decor and the gifts he’d intended.

And when the dark wizard’s sleigh was full-loaded with gifts,

He tugged at the reigns, and they made for The Rift!

A place where the veil between worlds was thin…

And a brilliant place to dump the gifts in!

“You see,” he told Krongus, as they approached that strange crack,

“Once something goes in, it can never come back!”

“Moreover, it’s perfect,” the wizard did sing,

“For The Rift destroys every part of that thing!”

“Every instance, every atom in all multiverses,

Will be undone as though by my special dark curses.

Not a gram, not a dust speck or mote shall remain,

And no one will even remember their name!”

“But sire,” muttered Krongus, “would it not be more precise,

If you simply put in the OrphanCrusher device?”

The evil wizard thought of this, parking his sleigh in the snow.

He’d made quite a trip, and this seemed quite a blow.

“I do have one here,” he told that weird devil.

“But destroying Christmas seems rather more evil!”

Then, far behind him, and the gifts he had pillaged,

He heard a small noise coming from Tumblr Village.

It was simply a song, of holiday spirit,

But the wizard was utterly shocked just to hear it.

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

Then the lich thought of something he hadn’t before.

Could it be Christmas was some kind of contagion or spore?

What happened next? Well, in Tumblr, they say,

The lich’s dead heart exploded that day!

And the combustive force of that villainous blast,

Airlifted the sleigh, and brought it right back,

To the village, where Tumblrinas rejoiced!

Then continued to sing, and lift up their voice.

And back at the rift, the lich, with head in a spin,

At the edge of the rift dropped the OrphanCrusher in.

So Christmas was saved, by accident mostly,

Though performing a good deed turned the bad wizard ghostly.

“Come, Krongus—we must now return to my tower,

While I wait several months to return to full power.”

And at Wizard Council HQ, certain strategist seers,

Saw all this occur through the orbs that they peered.

They smiled, and high-fived, and struck up the band,

Pleased that these events had gone just as planned.

[velvrei]

for jay from descendants, i want a smut bc he’s so scrumptious- sooo him and reader have been fwb for at least a month, and one day after jay’s tourney game it feels different? SMUT PLS LMFAO tysm i’m in luv your writing 💋

omg YES i’ve been wanting to write for him, also if your request hasn’t been posted yet i’m going down the line! sorry for the wait <3

benefits

pairing: jay x reader

fandom: descendants

summary: jay & the reader are friends with benefits but one day after tourney everything changes

warnings: smut, switch!jay if you squint, oral (m receiving), pet names, somewhat pda, no sex but it’s still filthy

nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

usually jay wouldn’t see himself as much of a sexual guy. that was, until he met you.

when you were first introduced to him, by ben, there was obvious chemistry. he was the “bad boy from the isle,” while you were the “good girl from auradon,” (which wasn’t true at all) but you couldn’t help but notice how he got nervous whenever you entered a room. he was basically head over heels for you.

there was even one time, where you overheard him masturbating and he was saying your name. that was what got you.

so that quickly turned into something, flirting, and teasing each other. then you both discussed it one night after mutually masturbating with each other, and you both agreed to become friends with benefits.

you were sat at his tourney game realizing how far you both had come, literally.

you watched in awe as he scored the game winning goal, making you smile as he was lifted up by his teammates and the whole crowd started cheering.

the group carried him into the locker room, cheering, and your smile stayed displayed on your face.

a couple minutes later, you felt a nudge at your shoulder, turning to see evie.

“i saw you staring at him. the whole game.” she spoke with a giggle, wrapping her arm around you. you rolled your eyes and smiled, “he’s hard not to look at. i was just watching the game.”

evie scoffed. “whatever you two got going on, friends don’t look at friends that way. go convince him! the worst that could happen is that he rejects your offer and you continue fucking occasionally.” evie laughed.

you smiled at her, “okay, fine.” you quickly ran to the locker room and made sure all the other guys were out. jay was the only one in there, you could tell, he was humming a deftones song as he washed his body.

you watched, trying not to giggle as you slowly started took off your clothes. you were fully undressed as you walked over to him and he turned, saw you and jumped.

“you almost gave me a heart attack!” he spoke with a laugh, holding his hand over his heart. “why are you in here!?” he whisper yelled, remembering where he was.

you smiled, “you won, jay, i’m here to celebrate. remember what i said earlier?”

jay felt his cheeks get hot, remembering what you said. “that if i won i would do whatever you wanted me to?” you nodded and wrapped your arms around his chest, hugging him and gently placing your lips onto his.

“what’s it gonna be, captain?” your words made him smile, and immediately get hard, “i don’t know, maybe you should kiss me first.”

as cliche as he sounded, you could never resist his touch. your lips smashed onto his, his hands roamed to your waist, using his hands to apply force and push you against the wall. he was always more aggressive when he was hornier.

your tangled your fingers in his soft, raven hair, smiling into the kiss as tugged and he gasped into the kiss, then moaned.

you slowly pulled your lips away, earning a small whine from him. he stopped and watched as you slowly got onto your knees. “baby…” he trailed off, as if he didn’t want you to.

you shushed him, “don’t even start, love. unless you don’t want me to…” you started to slowly stand up. he stopped you.

“no, please do. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to. that’s all.” he spoke. his words made you smile.

he watched as your face changed, and you smiled, completely changing your whole demeanor.

his mouth fell slightly open as you spoke, “baby, i like pleasing you. especially when i get to hear those pretty sounds you make. gets me wet every time. fuck my throat. do whatever you want to me.” his hips practically buckled as you spoke. he rested his head on the shower wall, “fuck, okay.”

he tried not to melt as he felt you run your tongue the underside of his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes as he swore loudly, his voice slightly louder than before.

you moved your tongue along his tip many times until his hips stuttered, “fuck. i’m sensitive, please,” his pants only made you more eager to tease him.

jay wasn’t normally one to beg, but when it came to you, and he was extra horny, he loved letting all his filthy little words fall from his mouth.

“be patient, baby.” you spoke. your hand gripped firmly, very slowly pumping his cock. his slit was leaking with precum, he was already so worked up by you.

he watched carefully as your lips wrapped around his tip, you kept pumping him but this time at a faster pace. “fuck, feels so good,” he managed to mutter along with his whimpers and pants.

you started to bob your head on him, resisting the urge to moan as he moaned. the realization was sinking in. the hot guy in front of you, was moaning and whimpering because of your mouth. you couldn’t imagine anything hotter.

he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, he was already a moaning mess and she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. he had a thing for being dirty in public and he also just loved the sight of you on your knees for him.

“keep stroking it while you suck it baby… i’m so close, fuck.” his voice was almost slightly high pitched, the whine he let out after added the affect.

you bobbed your head faster before holding your head at the base of his cock. he practically lost his breath, “oh fuck, you want it don’t you.” he said, throwing this head back. he moved his hands to the back of your head and held it there, keeping him at the back of your throat.

he started thrusting his dick in and out of your throat, practically using you as his way to release. “i’m cumming, oh my god!” his whine sent shivers straight to your core.

he held your head as he came tensing up before he shivered and loosened his grip after his high came to its end. you swallowed all you could, a few drops leaving your mouth and washing away with the water into the shower drain.

jay was still out of breath, shivering as he realized what just happened. “are you okay? did i hurt you? i’m sorry-” he immediately began to ramble, realizing how much his arousal took over.

“that was so hot,” was all you said as you stood up. jay sighed and watched as you just smiled at him, no sign of hurt or discomfort in your expression.

he pushed your wet hair behind your ear, “are you sure i didn’t hurt you?” he used his other hand to softly lift your chin.

you shook your head, “no, my love. i actually enjoyed that.”

jay sighed and stepped out of the shower. he grabbed your clothes and handed them to you before he got dressed himself.

when you were dressed, he turned to you with a grin.

“how about you let me take you out on a real date?” you could tell he was nervous, his hands were shaking, could’ve been from the breathtaking orgasm he had not even two minutes ago, he was still out of breath, and when he tied his towel around his waist he failed twice before actually tying it.

you smiled, ready to tease him again, “are you asking me that because of the blowjob or because you like me?”

jay rolled his eyes, “because i like you, y/n. you know you don’t always have to be so difficult and demanding.” as he finished his sentence his towel fell down once again.

you couldn’t help but giggle, “well, you seem to like it when i’m demanding, you were moaning at my words not even 2 minutes ago.” you slowly walked up and him and ran a hand through his hair, “handsome boy.”

his dick hardened immediately as he watched her walk away. “goddamnit, y/n!”

[lilacs-stars]

a night to remember

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: one day, you find a mysterious note in your locker from a certain pirate. who knows where it'll end up taking you—and your interesting relationship with him. GENRE: very wholesome despite the intro (I swear), fluff, some teasing and banter, reader being oblivious, mutual pining, just relationship cuteness overall CW: not much, mentions getting tipsy (not from alcohol), one little dirty joke if you squint hard enough WC: 7.5k

A/N: the title was inspired by the song of the same name by beabadoobee and laufey (I recommend listening to it while reading, as it sets the mood nicely!) james hook is literally so gentleman coded you can’t convince me otherwise. also I randomly thought of male characters using "m'lady" and now I'm obsessed...this was made to be pure, feet-kicking and giggling inducing fluff, so enjoy! thanks again to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! please leave feedback and suggestions, hearing your thoughts makes me so happy! :))

You stare down at the drink in your hand, the realization of what it is slowly dawning upon you. 

Mouth agape in pure disbelief, you glance up at the man sitting in front of you. The devilish glint in his eyes, rivaled only by the shine of his metal hook, sends chills down your spine—making it terribly clear why he brought you. 

Oh god, you think. How in the world did I get here?

You make your way through the bustling halls of Merlin Academy, trying your best to not get jostled by the ruckus of the crowd. 

Honestly, who puts people’s classes on the sixth floor and their lockers on the first? you mentally grumble, finally reaching the dreaded staircase that you climb up and down dozens of times each day.

After descending the five flights of stairs, you’re completely out of breath by the time you reach your locker. You tap the lock with your pointer finger three times, a magical device inside reading your fingerprint. It clicks open, and your locker door swings out towards you.

Reaching to place your books inside and take out some new ones for the rest of the day's classes, you’re shocked by something that slips out as soon as the door opens. A white piece of paper sways back and forth as it falls to the floor, right next to your feet.

You bend down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, you learn that it’s not a piece of paper; it’s a small packet, stapled in the corner. At the top, in neat, printed letters, are the words “ENCHANTMENT OF MAGICAL OBJECTS: UNIT 3 WRITTEN TEST.”

Below it, a line is provided for the student's name. Scribbled down in a fancy, yet somehow still messy and barely legible font, is the name “James Hook.”

He left me his test? you question. You don’t even bother wondering how he broke into your locker; after that little incident where he stole your ring, you have resigned yourself to not being surprised at his so-called “bad boy” antics. He is a villain, after all.

This test was one that your class had been preparing for quite some time. It mainly centered the theory of enchantments, with the most difficult one being the Aiming Spell. Thankfully, you had taught Hook most of the material during your study session last week, specifically focusing on helping him improve his Aiming Spell (although maybe he got a little too good, considering how he pulled off that ring trick).

Your confusion regarding the test placed in your locker lasts only a second longer, until you notice that in the top right corner, a big, circled "87%" is written in bright red pen.

The number stays for a brief moment, before the red ink rearranges itself on the page, morphing into a “B+”.

Wait…that’s really good. For him, at least, you think. Is this really all because of your one tutoring session? You have always thought that you’re pretty good at teaching other people, but you never considered yourself a miracle worker. He must think it is because of me, I guess. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left this in here.

Even though you know you’re probably not supposed to, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you flip back the front cover to check what he got wrong.

As soon as you lift the top page, another piece of paper falls out of the test. This time, it’s smaller, a faint beige color tinting the sheet.

You reach down once again to pick it up as you notice that this one is actually an envelope. Glancing at the back, which appears to be empty, you flip it over to the front side. It bears a wax seal embossed with an emblem of two crossed pirate swords.

Carefully peeling back the top of the envelope so as to not rip the delicate paper, you pull out the note inside. There isn’t much writing on the plain paper, but it’s in the same handwriting as before. Very intrigued at this unusual occurrence of events, you read the few lines of text keenly.

“Friday, 6 pm. The Rogers Place.

Make sure to wear your fanciest dress.

Meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

...What? You’re too stunned to even think. What is this? There’s no way he’s actually asking you out…on a date.

This has to be a joke, right? A study session was one thing, but this, this, meetup, is something entirely different. He even asked to meet you outside of school. You've heard before of the restaurant he mentioned, although you've never actually gone there yourself. Based on what you've gathered, it's a popular, rather formal place run by Eudora Rogers and her young daughter, Tiana, in memory of her beloved husband. 

So why in the name of the heavens would James Hook ask you, someone who has no dating experience whatsoever, of all people, to go with him to dinner? “Wear your fanciest dress”? What is this guy thinking?

In utter disbelief, you flip over the note, checking the back to make sure you haven’t missed something. To your surprise, there is some writing scrawled on the back, which reads: “Your payment for helping me pass my test.”

Right…so…he’s asking you out on a—no, it’s not a date, you remind yourself, yet again. He’s simply doing a nice act to return the favor. This was probably the only thing that came to his mind. Silencing the little voice in your head that whispers, “Why would the first thing that came to his mind be asking you out to dinner?”, you stuff the envelope and note in your bookbag, holding on to the test to give back to him sometime.

As you walk down the hallway, rushing to get to your next class, you don’t see the figure lurking behind the corner at the other end of the corridor.

He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

This one? No, it’s too casual.

How about this one? No, it’s not fancy enough.

This? Too sparkly.

That? Not sparkly enough.

You sigh, flopping onto your bed amidst a pile of dresses. It’s a few hours after school let out, on the day you’ve been anticipating all week long. And, not surprisingly, you can’t decide what in the world to wear. After all, it’s not like you’ve been out on lots of not-dates to know what a typical outfit would be like.

You stare up at the ceiling, sighing again for what must be the hundredth time this night. At times like this, you seriously wish you had a roommate. You've always had your dorm all to yourself, and sure, it is really nice most of the time. You can relax and unwind in solitude, with no one distracting you or pestering you with trivial matters while you study. However, there are the rare few occasions where you long to have someone close, to help you out or give you advice.

After holding up quite a few more dresses in the mirror, you finally decide on the one with the fewest number of cons, from the mental list you made for each dress. Slipping it on—albeit with much difficulty, since who designed dresses to be so frilly to the point where you can't even find where to put your head?—you stare at your reflection, completely enamored by the person you see staring back at you. You’re not really used to wearing fancy things like this, which is probably the reason why you barely recognize yourself.

Twirling around, head over your shoulder as you keep your gaze locked on the mirror, you realize why people have always told you that you have a striking resemblance to your mother. Your outfit consists of a ballgown-style dress, which really is the only type you have in your closet. Even though it’s a bit uncomfortable, the fitted bodice making it rather hard to take a full breath and the off-the-shoulder neckline compelling you to constantly tug it up to prevent it from slipping, it still is absolutely gorgeous. The short sleeves complement the torso, and the full skirt, all puffed up with layers of tulle, swishes elegantly as you move around. The bodice is densely embellished with small rhinestones, mostly at the top, with the gems growing sparser farther down the dress. A few crystals are set into the skirt just below the waistline, creating a scattered, shimmering effect reminiscent of the stars in a night sky.

Even though you aren’t a fan of fancy dresses, you must admit, you absolutely adore this one.

Finishing off the look with some jewelry and accessories, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. You've never been one to be arrogant, but it's still hard not to think that even though this is certainly not a date, maybe, just maybe, Hook might be a little more interested in you after tonight.

“Um…hi?” you say, timid voice rising into a question from your uncertainty.

After getting dressed, you made your way to the restaurant. Fighting the deep-rooted urge to get there early as possible, you took the long route, not wanting to be the first to arrive. I’ll make him wait for me this time, you decided with an evil little smirk, thinking back to the day of your study session and the long minutes you had agonizingly spent wondering if he was going to show up.

Now, you stand in front of the reception desk, peering up at a waiter ordering papers. Fiddling with the lace gloves covering your hands, you add, “I don’t know if my name is ion the reservation or anything…”

Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. All Hook had instructed you was to show up at the restaurant at this time. Part of you had expected him to be waiting by the door, but now that you see he isn't, your nervousness rises.

“Are you Y/N?” the server questions, glancing down at something on the small podium-like stand.

“Uh, yes, I am,” you reply.

“A young man has made a reservation for the two of you. He’s already waiting for you out on the patio. If you’ll follow me,” the waiter informs you, grabbing a menu from his stack and leading you through the bustling restaurant.

You follow him, feeling incredibly bashful as you swerve around tables and people alike. You finally reach a large set of doors in one of the seating areas, which the waiter opens for you.

Stepping through the threshold, you sense the cool rush of the evening air welcome you out. The sky has already begun to dim, a few faint stars gleaming against the dark backdrop. Spread out in front of you is an array of tables, most of them small enough for only two people. The low lighting, coming solely from flickering candles and glowing lanterns strung throughout the area, paired with the singular rose set in a vase at the center each table and a faint, slow jazz song playing somewhere in the background, makes for the most romantic of settings you could have possibly imagined.

Your breath is completely taken away as the server leads you through the arrangements of seats. It’s sparsely crowded, with only a few couples seated here and there, each enjoying an amorous dinner.

The server stops at a circular, two-seated table close to the edge, overlooking a magnificent view of the city down below. A few feet in front ahead and sitting with his back towards you, the only object of your thoughts for these past few hours turns his head in your direction, probably upon hearing the clacking of your high-heeled shoes.

Although you’ve tried your best to convince yourself that this, in fact, is not a date, you simply can’t deny the way his entire expression light up at the mere sight of you. Hook stands up, unabashedly eyeing you up and down slowly, taking all of you in.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand in his, once again bowing down to place a kiss on your ring—it appears that this has become a routine, which you can't exactly say you mind.

You don't miss how he pauses for just a moment, noticing the way your ring is still on your ring finger, unchanged from the place he left it. Holding your breath, your heart beats faster as you worry about what he thinks of it. To your relief, he doesn’t say anything, instead kissing the gemstone and straightening back up again, but not before ever so softly—yet still with obvious intentionality—brushing his lips against your finger, deliberately tracing your skin with an agonizingly slow pace as his warm breath sets your every nerve on fire.

“M’lady,” he breathes, standing to meet your gaze. His casual nonchalance is a stark difference from the way you struggle to regain your composure, hating how even the smallest of actions from him can elicit such a reaction from you.

As you study him, you notice that he had a significant wardrobe change too; instead of his usual pirate attire, he dons a dark maroon frock coat, embroidered with intricate swirls and designs. He definitely made an attempt at looking a bit more classy, with his hair neater than usual and the collar of his shirt tidily done. You could even swear that his hook looked more polished than usual, and that he carried the faint, odd trace of expensive cologne.

The server leaves the menu on your table and walks away with a polite nod of his head. Hook steps over to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in, pulling it out for you in a manner that is far too gentlemanly for what you're used to seeing from him, gesturing at you to sit down with a wave of his shiny metal hook. 

Overwhelmingly flattered, you walk over, smoothing your skirt beneath you as you take your seat. Hook pushes your chair in, before going back to the other side of the table to take his own seat.

Not sure what else to do, you pick up your menu and glance over it. “Decide what you’re going to order yet?” Hook asks you.

“No, you?”

“They already took my order, but I told them to wait on preparing my food until you had ordered as well.”

They already took his order? How long has he been here? you wonder. You glance at your wristwatch, seeing that it’s only a few minutes past six o’clock. Deciding to shrug it off, you go back to looking at your menu, despite not being able to fight the voice in your head that whispers about how you should've gotten here earlier, that he had probably been waiting for you, all alone, for quite some time.

“It’s so hard to decide,” you say with a halfhearted laugh, trying to fill up the heavy silence. You peruse the menu more carefully this time, marveling at how many different dishes are listed. Finally, after reading through the entire thing a few more times, you settle on the one that sounds the best.

After only a few moments, the server comes back around and takes your order. “A fine choice, ma’am,” he comments as you tell him your choice of entrée. You notice that all of the waiters here wear fancy black suits and come with a pristine white cloth draped over their arm. Huh, how fancy, you think to yourself. I never knew this place was so formal.

“So, Hook,” you begin, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Didn’t you read my note? It’s a thank-you for helping me pass my test. The teacher was very impressed with my score, you know,” he responds indifferently.

You give him a small sigh, paired with a gentle smile—your attempt at hiding the twinge of disappointment dancing in your eyes. “I did, but you didn’t have to treat me to dinner. A simple note would have sufficed.”

Hook looks at you, dark brown eyes wide and holding your gaze with an intensity you’ve never known. “Sufficed? I don’t want to just suffice. I want to give you a memorable night. An unforgettable experience.” “I don’t think I could ever forget a charming pirate with a hook for a hand,” you laugh, teasing him lightly. Instead of laughing along with you, Hook stares at you for another moment, studying you with slightly scrunched brows and an indecipherable expression on his face. You grow uneasy at his burning look, shifting in your seat as you wonder why he’s watching you so intently.

However, the tense awkwardness in the air lasts for only a minute, before Hook breaks into one of his famous smirks as he replies, “Oh, charming, am I? I know you can’t stop thinking about me, love.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant!” you cry, leaning across the table to give him a small push. He breaks into a laugh, his lips curling up into yet another genuine smile as he leans back just out of your reach. His mirthful expression makes you realize that he had been simply joking, causing your face to burn up as your mind replays your rather dramatic reaction. Honestly, you can never really tell whether he’s being serious or just messing with you.

“Settle down, love. Wouldn’t want you ruining that pretty dress of yours,” he responds, twisting to the side again to prevent getting smacked by you.

You two continue making small talk, still partaking in your teasing, only slightly annoying banter. Before you know it, a waiter is walking towards your table with two platters, one in each hand.

The server sets down the plates on your table, the dishes both looking absolutely delectable. Along with the food, he places two matching beverages in front of you two.

You thank him, and he bows again before leaving. Turning back to Hook, you watch with a slight arch of your eyebrows as he raises his drink in the air.

“A toast,” he says. “To continuing our little dates.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to correct him this time. Lifting your own glass, you add, “And to you continuing to get good grades.” He smiles at this, before lifting the drink to his lips. Perceptive as always, you notice how his eyes follow your hand as you bring the glass to your mouth.

A sudden, fleeting doubt crosses your mind at his suspicious behavior. Glancing down at the drink skeptically, you notice its unique bright red color. You lower +it slightly and sniff it, then bring it down from your face, fixing a glare at Hook. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s what I was counting on, at least.”

You persist with your glare. You've spent many hours reading up on different potions and elixirs, so you're no stranger to the drink in your hand. It's a popular one known as the Lovers' Lascivious Lure, a beverage with a fruit punch-like taste, plus a little kick. The real reason for its fame, however, is the touch of love potion that gets mixed in. Not enough to truly make someone fall in love with you or intoxicate them, but rather something that is favored by couples looking to get a little tipsy in love on their night out.

You set the glass down on the table, not breaking your gaze away for a second as you continue to glower at the person sitting across you.

“It’s rude to not drink after a toast, darling,” Hook says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking that,” you reply irritatedly. 

“Fine. Your loss, love.”

You watch in complete shock, eyes blown wide and mouth agape as Hook brings his drink up to his lips again, tipping back his head as he gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“I’d drink yours as well, darling, but I’d hate for you to be forced to walk me home, instead of the other way around,” Hook spouts with a bit too much added expression, slightly swaying as the effects of the potion kick in. 

You continue to stare at him, concern etched into your features, knowing full well that this drink is designed to be sipped slowly throughout a leisurely dinner, one with much idle conversation and flirtatious looks. Not to be downed all at once. You honestly don’t know what the side effects are to consuming a large amount very quickly, but you pray that the potion is weak enough so as to not cause actual harm—or any other effects—to him.

“So, love,” Hook drawls in a low tone, leaning in. “Anything you feel like telling me?”

“You’re the one who drank the liquid courage, not me,” you point out, fixing him with another look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to last like this.”

At your words, Hook’s dazed expression suddenly disappears, instead replaced by a very serious, stern face. “Oh, I assure you, love, I can last very long.”

You blink, a tad confused at why he said that with such a strong conviction. Brushing it off, you look down at your food again, your mouth already watering. “Come on, our food’s going to get cold, and it looks far too delicious to waste.”

Hook agrees, unrolling his utensils instead of shooting back a one-liner, much to your surprise. You’re even more taken aback at the way he drapes the white cloth, which previously held his cutlery, over his legs as he begins to eat, keeping up with his very proper etiquette. He does everything with utterly perfect decorum, from holding his fork and knife in the correct positions to cutting all his food into little pieces. You honestly don't know why this comes as such a shock to you; he has been employing rather polite manners all evening, after all. It appears, you realize, that you’ve always subconsciously believed the stereotypes that pirates are unruly creatures, which therefore must mean they eat messily.

Apparently, this pirate doesn’t.

You both make small talk as you enjoy your food, which is every bit as delicious and succulent as it looked. All the different components are cooked to a perfect degree; not raw or difficult to chew, but not burnt, either. Rich, deep, aromatic spices have always been the staple of this restaurant, and for good reason. You have no clue what flavorings they used, but whatever they are, they taste unlike anything you've ever eaten in your entire life, like an otherworldly meal sent from the heavens. To top it all off, the food also comes with piquant side dishes, followed by desserts that are absolutely decadent and make you melt with every bite you take.

After you both have had your share, Hook motions to the waiter for the check. You had slipped some extra cash into your handbag before coming, not sure what the expectation would be for who paid. As the waiter returns with the small black book in his hand, you turn to Hook.

“I can pay, if you want,” you offer. 

Hook quirks his brow as he gives you a look, before reaching into his coat pocket. “Come now, don’t be ridiculous, love. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay for you? Especially considering that I was the one who asked you out.”

You blink hard, barely aware of your small nod towards him, your mind racing as the waiter gives Hook the check. You blankly watch him scribble a signature before handing it back, trying to process what he just said. “...asked you out…” Does that mean he actually considers this as a date? Especially since he offered to pay for you…Heavens, what is going on?

Your eyes trail the waiter as he leaves, just as Hook turns back to you. “All finished?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “So…what now?” You aren't quite sure whether or not he's planning on walking you home like he mentioned earlier, but you do know that you're not ready to part quite so soon. Averting his gaze, you instead choose to look down at the candle flickering in the middle of your table. It is now very dark outside, to the point where the flame’s meager light shines with a bright luminosity. Entranced by the fire, you stare intently at its dancing movements, attention fully consumed by how the flame appears to be practically alive.

“Now,” Hook says with a glint in his eyes, causing your head to snap back up, “I have something to show you.”

“Something to show me?” you repeat. “Show me what?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see once we get there, love.”

“Once we get there? Hook, where are we going?”

He gives a smug, knowing grin. “You’ll see. Just be patient, darling.” He notices the skeptical look you still have, so he adds, “Trusting me last time turned out good, right? So trust me one more time. I promise you’ll like your surprise.”

You consider his words, hating how he had a point. “Fine,” you huff. “Lead the way, I guess.”

You start to push your chair back to get up, but Hook chides, “Ah ah ah, no you don’t,” standing up himself before walking behind you. He grips the back of your chair and pulls it out for you, before offering his good hand to help you stand too.

Once again, you’re rather shocked at his well-mannered behaviors and courteous gestures. As you accept his outstretched arm, you wonder how in the world this is the same person who was, only a few days ago, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, flinging magical disks across the room.

Getting up, you hesitate for a moment, freezing in place now that you’re level with his eyes. You haven’t been this close to him since that pivotal day during your study session, and your breath gets taken away once again by the proximity.

His angular features and sharp jawline catch your attention, causing your legs to stagger as your gaze wanders down to his soft, plush lips, which definitely stand out amidst the rest of his chiseled face. You had never noticed how his eyeliner also traces his bottom lash line, making his eyes pop whenever he widens them, or how part of his hair swoops to the side and slightly covers his forehead. It dawns on you that you’ve always overlooked the two small silver earrings that dangle from his ears, or the chain around his neck with a cross on it, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Not aware of how you’re just standing there paralyzed, you commit to memory the small details about him you’ve never really seen before. Even though the inside of your head is alive and bustling with a plethora of thoughts, outside, you two stand in terribly awkward silence.

Hook clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. “Come along, darling. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by curfew again.”

Tightening his grip on your hand, which still holds yours, he leads you through the entrance you had used not so long ago while bidding farewell to the waiter. You continue up the hill to the woods behind the restaurant, Hook refusing to give even a single hint as to what big surprise awaits you.

The trail through the trees starts off easy enough, although still rather difficult for you to traverse in your tight dress and voluminous skirt. If I had known I’d be taking a hike, I’d have worn something more suitable, and much more comfortable, you think, but ultimately decide to keep your mouth shut. After all, Hook had been spoiling you all evening. The least you could do was not nag him about every last thing.

The farther you go, the thicker the branches that block your path and scratch at your arms with their sharp claws get, and the denser the underbrush that tries to trap your feet and swallow you whole grows. After a quarter hour of consistent walking, the trail all but disappears, until only a small path carved by the footsteps of a few brave souls remains. You have to hold up the edge of your full-length skirt the whole way to ensure it doesn’t get all dirty and muddy; by the time you’re nearly done, your arms ache just as much, if not more, than your legs.

You and Hook travel mostly in silence, the sounds of your heavy panting and the crunches of leaves and branches underfoot filling up the empty air. You trail behind him, sometimes struggling to keep up, although he does happen to notice this and slows down his pace after the first few minutes.

Occasionally, Hook gives a short, crisp, “Watch out for the rock there, love,” or “The branches here are really low, I’ll hold them up for you.” You always respond with a clipped “Yeah,” or “Okay, thanks,” trying to mask just how out of breath you've gotten from the difficult climb. Early on in the beginning of the hike, you had to let go of his hand, favoring holding up your skirt instead. Still, in areas where the ground is rough or rocky, or the footing becomes difficult or rather steep, Hook always turns around and offers his hand to you and helps pull you up, or reaches out his hook from overhead for you to grab on to.

The noises of the night accompany you the entire time: the soft chirps of crickets, a few croaks from a frog somewhere out of sight, a creature or other scampering through the bushes, a rare call from an owl, and the whispering of the leaves above as a cool breeze passes through them. After a few more minutes of walking through a maze of nature with trees so thick—their only rival being the velvety blackness of the night—the pace of the trek finally slows down. You've long tired of always having to hold one arm ahead to ensure that you don’t get smacked in the face by an unsuspecting branch, so you're overwhelmingly relieved when Hook finally says, “We’re almost there.” “Finally,” you mumble between breaths. “I think my limbs are just about to fall off.” You can’t really tell in the pitch-black darkness, but you could have sworn that Hook gave a small smile at your words.

Once you reach a thick tangle of branches and vines that completely block your path, you both come to a stop. You watch as he pulls them back and to the side, even slicing through some with his hook. He beckons you forward with a courteous, “Ladies first,” a grin dancing on his features.

You walk through the clearing and onto a wide ledge overlooking the entire city. The view knocks the breath out of your lungs, despite your body already screaming at you for more oxygen. All thoughts of your strenuous hike vanish from your head, except for one that reminds you the arduous journey was absolutely and totally worth it.

From all the way up here, you can see the entire land. The shimmering lights of the large cityscape below you steal your heart, while the small village houses and mountains beyond them, creating the faintest of outlines against the horizon, capture your soul. This vantage point allows you to see everything; every bustling street filled with people rushing to get home after a long week, or frolicking around on a night out. Every house, every drawn-back curtain, but a mere speck in the constellation of human activity, a testament to the splendor of life. Twinkling lights sprawled below you paint a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the celestial canvas of stars hanging above you.

You stare in pure awe, almost forgetting about Hook as he approaches you from behind. “Enjoying the view, love?” he whispers softly, his voice closer to you than you expected.

You startle, turning backwards with a sharp inhale. “Oh…yeah, it’s just…breathtaking.” Unable to think of the right words to describe it, you decide to settle for an almost shameful understatement of the view's beauty.

You’re not quite sure if you imagined it, too caught up in your head, but you hear something that almost sounds like a soft, “Just like you.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“I said, I told you you’d like it,” Hook repeats, although you still hold your suspicions. “All you had to do was trust me.”

“And how can I be sure you aren’t planning to push me off the edge?” you question, teasing him.

“Well, you can’t,” he replies, walking over to the ledge. “But if I do, I’ll let you drag me down with you. If we go down, then we go down together.”

You giggle, choosing to take his words at face value only and not read into them too much. After all, your heart can only take so much in one night.

Hook crouches down, using his good hand to support him as he sits down in front of you, keeping one foot hugged to his chest as he dangles the other off the side of the cliff.

He glances over his shoulder at you, patting the space besides him. Cautiously, you walk over to the ledge, joining him on the ground. 

You both sit there for a moment in silence, looking over the magnificent scene. You can tell that Hook finds comfort in the lack of conversation, but it feels too heavy for you, and so you decide to finally break it with the question that’s been on your mind this whole night.

“Hook?” you ask gently.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you. “I thought you’d like the view,” he replies, looking at you with a confused expression.

You take a quick breath, preparing yourself for the difficult words you’re planning to speak next. “No, I mean, why did you really bring me here tonight?” He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, adding, “And don’t lie to me.”

His mouth closes shut again and he hesitates for a moment, contemplating his next sentence carefully, before responding, “I’ve already told you.”

“What, that you wanted to thank me for helping you get a B-plus on your test? Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me anymore.”

“No, not that.” He turns his head back and runs his good hand through his hair, making his neatly combed style look a bit more windswept than before. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“…What?”

“I already told you that it was a date, love. You just chose not to believe me.���

It’s your turn to whip your head to the side this time, now facing directly towards Hook, who’s still looking straight ahead at the scenery.

“I-I didn’t…truly…I thought you were just joking when you said that.”

He glances at you again, a roguish grin forming on his lips. “Oh, darling, I don’t joke about much. Especially not with you.”

Again, you choose not to read too deeply into his words, trying to break your awful habit of overthinking. Instead, you press on, wanting to gain as much information as you can from him. If nothing else, at least a few answers might help put your mind at a little more ease. “Why’d you want to ask me out? I’m not exactly…”

Your voice fades away as your brain catches up with your far-too-fast mouth, realizing that saying “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to date” may not do you any favors.

Hook turns to look at you with an expectant gaze, and you know that you can’t sweep your little slip-up under the carpet that easily. Gods, he’s observant. “…the most popular person at our school,” you finish.

“Hmm, true,” Hook concurs, tilting his head with a tone as if he’s never considered that point before. You were half-expecting him to disagree, more out of courtesy than honesty, so you’re a bit taken aback when he agrees with you.

“But I don’t care about popularity.” Ah, so there’s that socially obligatory politeness. You don't really believe his words at first, yet the way he says it so sincerely, so genuinely, makes you wonder if he truly is being honest.

“So why’d you want to take me out on a date?”

“Because, love, you’re different from what I’m used to,” he replies. “You’re kind, soft, pure. You intrigued me.”

You recoil at his words, a deep, writhing anger rising out of you. “What, you only went out with me because I’m so pure and innocent? So you could corrupt me?” you spit, having heard this little skit far too many times before.

“No, not like that. Not at all.” Hook twists his body to face you more, and although you’re still mad at him, you can’t deny the hurt and pain that swirls in his voice and eyes at your accusations. “You’re…you’re always trying to help others. You always speak softly, always smile. You’re untainted by the evils I've witnessed. You’re like an angel sent down from the heavens. You’re not like me, love."

Hook continues, “And I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to corrupt or hurt you. I want to preserve that. Every time I’m with you, you make me want to keep you safe from the troubles of the world, the cruel things I’ve seen.

"You make me want to be around you. I can't explain how, or why, but your presence alone compels me to change my ways. To be kinder, gentler, softer. For you. It's as if you're contagious, and well, I think you've infected me, love. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, everything feels just a little bit better. The weight on my shoulders feels a bit lighter, and nothing seems as bad as it used to, as it was when I was on my own.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...you've made me feel things that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Things that I thought my blackened heart couldn't even experience anymore. You make me feel like there's still goodness in the world...like there's still hope. Like I still have hope." You blink slowly, your mind and heart spinning alike as everything around you, as time itself, seems to slow down. You're unable to process all his words, unable to even begin to consider the implications of what this all means. “So, what you’re saying is…you only like me because I’m good?” you ask, touched by his sentiment, yet a little sad at the underlying meaning. Does this mean that if you want to stay with Hook, to maybe even be something in the future, you can't have any darkness to your soul? That you'll have to continue to be as righteous and morally correct as ever?

He gives a small chuckle. “Of course not, darling. I love when I make you snap, when you get angry at me. I love when the fierce part of you comes out. Just like it did now.” He reaches out his good hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your cheek as he keeps it there, not pulling back quite yet.

You can see the hesitance swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty in the way his hand lingers by your face. By some sudden stroke of courage, the origins of which are a complete mystery to you—maybe he had the love potion added to your food too?—you shift your whole body towards Hook, keeping your legs tucked together and off to one side. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

“I'm sorry, love, wh-what?”

It feels strange to take command for once, but it sure is nice. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His lingering hand cups your cheek as you both lean in, meeting each other in the middle. Hook’s lips are as soft and plump as you imagined, almost like brushing your mouth against the petals of a rose. Placing one of your hands on the ground beside you, you put your weight on it as you move even closer.

You’ve read of intense kisses, filled with passion and fueled by lust. But this isn't like that. It is slow, sweet, intoxicating you with only the purest of adorations. Your lips hover over his as you tilt your head to the side to prolong the embrace, getting swept up in the moment whilst being completely and blissfully unaware of anything and everything besides how his lips feel against yours, how his hook traces your body as he devours you like a starved man given his last meal. How he breathes you in like you're the very air that fills his lungs, like your sheer essence is the only oxygen he needs. You bring your hand up to his shoulder, leaning further into him as he moves his good hand back and tangles it in your hair.

It ends rather quickly, the entire kiss lasting but a moment, yet still filling you with the sweetest pleasure. In that moment, you realize why people spend their whole lives searching for love; it’s one of the most endearing, profound forms of joy that one can feel, and you're certain that you just felt it.

You pull away, noticing how his gaze lingers on your lips, before looking back up at you. He gives you a captivating, yet genuine smile, one that makes your heart to ache at how perfect he is, yet simultaneously yearning for his touch, his lips, him being wrapped up in another embrace with you and never breaking away. The newfound euphoria coursing through your veins and making your mind fuzzy causes you to return his smile with a wide, love-drunk grin of your own, a deep, wholehearted devotion emanating through your gaze as you study his features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, staring into his eyes—eyes that reflect your own.

“Always, love.”

“You were my first kiss,” you confess.

Hook brings his hand back up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His grin grows, an endless affection swirling in his dark eyes as he replies, “I guess this really is a night to remember.”

You give a small laugh, lowering your forehead to lean it against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his hold. “You did want to give me an unforgettable night, after all.”

“Can I tell you a secret, too?”

You raise your head again to peer up at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he has to admit.

“That day, in class,” he confides, “I was enchanting those disks and sending them across the room so you’d come and talk to me. I saw how you went over to help that other kid who was struggling. So, I figured that if I struggled too, you'd come over and I could get a conversation with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you could cast the spell right?”

“Oh, no, not even close, love. That was all your work. Although I might have put in a bit more effort just to impress you,” he adds with a small smirk.

You move one of your hands closer to him, placing it on top of his and intertwining your fingers together. “Well, I suppose it worked.”

You lean back into him, kissing him blissfully yet again under the watchful smile of the moon glowing high in the sky, the stars glimmering and winking down at your young love. As you embrace, the city below bustles with the joys and despairs of human life unbeknownst to you, each person a thread in the tapestry of the world. Every soul but a speck of stardust in a cosmic dance.

And perhaps that is the greatest folly of human life. All the weight of one’s burdens, all the battles fought, all the hearts and souls that love and cry, together composing of but a fleeting second amidst the vastness of forever. And yet, each person gets lost in the preeminence of their own narrative, joyfully unaware of every grain of sand that disappears into the abyss as we shuffle closer to the edge of this mortal coil. But oftentimes, one’s deepest flaw is their greatest feat, as no imperfection comes without its own merit.

So maybe that very feature is, instead, the greatest feat of humanity. To love like you’ll live forever, and to weep like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe our ignorance gives us strength, the strength to keep going every day, pretending as if we somehow have an authority and power over the galactic strings of thread that weave together the fate of our universe.

The city below you, the world outside of the little bubble the two of you have created, moves on, unknown and unknowing of you both. But in this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing besides the love and affection you and him have grown to share.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0 @ljaylmaoo @maggiecc @elltheawkward @eretsupremacy89 @dreamerofasgard @mabs04

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: I just had to end this with some philosophical musings haha (hey google, how do you write beginnings and endings?) anyways hope you liked this, I love making fluff like this :D I love seeing everyone's comments and reactions, all feedback is highly appreciated! until next time :))

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[hubristicassholefight]

Swordswoman Showdown Round 4/Quarterfinal

Kikunojo (One Piece) vs Brienne of Tarth (A Song Of Ice and Fire)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Kikunojo

She is a samurai and a retainer for the Kozuki Family, serving as one of the Nine Red Scabbards, a group of samurai that protect the Kozuki family and their country. She's a very skillful samurai, and she and her group managed to delay and hold off the main villain of the arc, (which was an almost insurmountable task for even the main character) and survived the experience despite her horrible injuries; She's canonically and openly trans! And she's gorgeous. And huge... She's 287 cm tall, which for the USAmericans in the audience is 9' 5". She's simply the coolest.

She’s a samurai and fights with a sword; tall trans woman <3

Legendary devoted samurai!; She's 2.87m tall, a time traveler, and not even losing an arm in the middle of the fight stopped her- she had it imediately cauterized and went back to the fight.

She's a lady samurai! Pretty and very skillful with her katana!

She is a samurai who was sent 20 years into the future to avenge the death of her lord; She’s so tall and canonically trans and I love her

She’s a badass samurai who fights for what she believes in and to help people. She is known as Kiku of lingering snow. She’s also canonically trans

She's a time traveling trans samurai, the only woman in a group of 9 legendary samurais; Her arm was chopped off by the biggest baddie so far and she continued fighting, isn't that badass?

One of the strongest samurai in her country; She's a trans icon

#kiku the greatest of all time#🐐#tall and gorgeous samurai lady#who is a trans icon#love that she is so tall that she doesn't fit in the image display#gets recognized as strong by the main character multiple times and proves it by being the most resilient badass of the entire arc#stands up to tyrants and abusers of class privilege#also helps break said main character out of the enemies prison and takes part in a rebellion against the corrupt prison staff#one piece#okiku#kiku

#kiku is canonically trans

Brienne

gets gifted a sword made with the rarest metal ever because she’s THAT good; she’s simply the best

Brienne is one of the top sword users alive in her day. She's descended from a man who's catchphrase was "I'm better with a sword." Better than what? You. Jaime Lannister. Loras Tyrell. Any five given guys at once. She has a fantastic sword that might be magic or cursed and is named Oathkeeper because that's what she does; I love her

Beat like 20 guys in a tournament when she was 19. Was given a magic sword. Won a sword fight against the premier swordsman in the realm. Very swordly; Very tall and strong. Holds her sword in high esteem. Accomplished with other weapons as well!

She's defeated multiple of the top knights in the series in duels. One such knight gifts her the fabergé egg of swords and she uses it to defend orphans and stuff. Got out of a bad betrothal by dueling him and beating his ass so bad she broke multiple bones. Honestly there's so much more she is the swordswoman of all time. to me; She's buff and ugly and 6' 5" and so honorable and kind that she inspires the guy who fucks his sister to yknow. stop doing that. literally gets mauled for the sake of protecting a bunch of orphans (with her sword). also she's 20 she should be at the club ‼️

One of the best sword wielders in Westeros, the author says he would pick her to defend him. Has a cool sword called Oathkeeper. Manages to go up against 7 fighters and take out most of them,. The only true knight; First off, talking about book brienne, they massacred show brienne, the show runners simply didn’t understand what she’s about.“ She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice” brienne had plenty of choice but she couldn’t leave people to die. The chivalric paradigm is rotten and corrupted, but here is Brienne, the one true knight, who isn’t even a actual knight! “knights are for killing”, but here is a knight who risks her life again and again to protect innocents! Bri IS hope, she is the light in the dark that shows that things can be better, things must be better. Fundamentally an idealist: “Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining”

[chiaraswritings]

Hello can I ask a work from you? :) Maybe Batmom pranks Bruce and the boys (plus steph and cassie) where she goes in labor. By like just putting water on the floor. It’s super chaotic and they all end up slipping on it. She doesn’t tell them it’s a prank until their halfway to the hospital and it’s just super chaotic and funny. Tysm!

Batprank

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Pregnancy, water breaking, pranking, mentions of sexual intercourse, romantic scenes between a married couple. This is not suitable for younger readers. 18+.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Summary: Batmom!reader decides to try out a prank that she found on social media.

Author's Note: Great story idea, anon. Posting this ten minutes before leaving for work, I'm not even dressed yet. So if there are typos or mistakes I'll come back later and edit them out. Don't have bad time management, kids. I hope everyone reading is safe and well, and I hope you all enjoy.

Part Two

Sunday afternoons could only be described one way in this household. Long and lazy, sometimes excruciatingly so. I was scrolling on my favorite social media app again, watching short videos. If Bruce were laying with me, he'd say I was doom scrolling. He often discouraged the kids and I from this practice of scrolling through short videos for hours on end, but there was hardly anything else to do on an afternoon like this. 

I cradled my swollen stomach, one hand resting over my navel, the other propping my phone on the bed. Inside my womb, I could feel flutters of movement, vibrations moving through my stomach. Pausing the video I was watching, I looked down at my stomach. The baby I was carrying had woken and was pushing against the front of my tummy. "Ouch. I know you're just stretching, but you have to wait to come out, little one." I returned my attention to the video of directions on how to fold towels to look like birds. 

My thumb swiped mindlessly over the screen for several more minutes. My brain wasn't really processing anything of what I was seeing. I was mainly focused on the baby's movements, feeling her stretch and kick, thinking about the cradle that Dick and Jason had put together for their little sister several weeks before and how it would soon have a newborn in it. Thinking about the songs I was going to sing to her at night. Thinking about seeing Bruce hold her for the first time. 

After about ten recommended videos that didn't interest me, I got ready to close the app. I might as well do something more useful with my time. As I swiped to view one last video, the picture of a pregnant woman caught my eye. I watched with interest as she emptied a bottle of water onto the floor next to a flight of stairs, before keeling over clutching her stomach and calling a man's name, along with the news that her water had broken. Much to my amusement, her partner came rushing down the stairs, slipping on the water and sliding across the floor on his backside. I couldn't help but chuckle. It was a good prank, though probably staged, as most pranks on this app tend to be at some level. Would this actually work? I wondered to myself. I closed the app on my phone before pressing the power button to darken the screen. Standing up wasn't my favorite, but I wanted to go see what my husband was up to.

I moved down the stairs cautiously, using the handrail. Falling could damage the organs that kept the baby safe, which is why Bruce had suggested moving to a bedroom on the first floor until she arrived. We hadn't done that yet, but it wasn't the worst idea. Anything to keep little Ava safe. Or Emma. Or something. Over the last seven months, Bruce and I had both been advocating for our own choice of name for the baby. Not that it would matter once we were finally able to hold her in our arms. 

Once I had descended down the first flight of stairs, I happened to look back at the steps behind me. It reminded me of the short video I had watched a couple minutes before. I wondered again if the prank actually worked, or if it was staged. What the family's reactions would be if I pulled that sort-of-cruel prank on them. Chuckling at the thought, I started moving towards the entrance to the Batcave.

I followed the stairs down to the dark, cold cave that I had learned to love. After all, this was home to my husband's greatest passion, and I would never try to get in between him and what made him feel fulfilled. I smiled upon seeing my dearest at the Batcomputer. Bruce was fixated on the screen, hardly noticing when I ran my hands over his shoulders from behind, my arms wrapping around his neck. "Hi there."

He looked up, not startled, but he hadn't expected my presence. "You're supposed to be resting."

I pressed a kiss to his bristly cheek. "I got tired of resting."

He turned the chair to face me. His large hands ran over my stomach, trying to feel the movement of his child, but she had already gone back to sleep, it seemed. "Can you wake her up so I can feel her?"

I looked down at him, laughing. "How exactly do you propose I do that?" 

He glared at me, but I could see the smile in his eyes. "I don't know how you do that, I've never been pregnant before."

Chuckling, I pecked his lips. "I'd want to know if you had been." Turning my attention to the screen, I noticed the faces of several inmates that had escaped the nearby asylum recently. "Getting anywhere on the case?" 

Bruce stood before turning me so my back was to the computer before kissing my lips sweetly. "You're not allowed to think about anything stressful right now, do you understand?"

I chuckled, looking up into his pretty blue eyes. "My poor baby, are you stressed?"

"Maybe. Lots of things going on at the moment." My husband knelt in front of me, pressing gentle kisses to my stomach. "Thinking about the case, the pregnancy, the company, the kids, all of it all at once."

My fingers ran through his uncombed hair. "Don't worry, the baby will be here soon, and you can scratch pregnancy off your worry list."

His eyes met mine again as he gently kissed my stomach. "I'll have a baby to worry about then. You'll tell me right away when your water breaks, won't you?" 

Smiling, I took his face in my hands. "You'll be the first to know. After Ava and I, of course." 

Bruce's eyes narrowed playfully, and he stood up once again. "You mean Emma?"

I chuckled and pulled him down slightly to brush my nose against his, our lips not quite meeting. "I mean Ava." 

"You mean Emma," Bruce grinned, kissing me passionately, stroking my stomach with his thumbs. A giggle escaped my throat, but I didn't break the kiss. He moved his hands to my hips, his caresses moving to my sides. 

"I thought you guys promised not to have sex in the cave anymore?" Stephanie's voice cut through our kiss, causing me to jump and Bruce to turn his head to glare at her. 

"We are not having sex, though we still can at eight months," Bruce gave me a side glance. 

I returned the glance. "You try having sex with a nearly full-grown baby in your tummy. Give it a try, let's see how you like it."

"Fair enough," he muttered before pecking my lips. 

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she passed us. "Disgusting, don't talk about it in the cave anymore either."

I chuckled, giving the girl's shoulder a squeeze and my husband's cheek a kiss. "I'm heading back upstairs, sex talk averted." 

Feeling Bruce grab my hand, I turned my head back towards him. "You will tell me when you go into labor?"

Reassuringly squeezing his hand, I smiled. "I promise I will. But I'm pretty sure we have some time before that happens." 

I made my way up the stairs, leaving Bruce to grump about our moment being interrupted. When I reached the landing, I was greeted by Alfred, who offered me a tall glass of water. "You'll remember what the doctor said about water consumption, madam," he held it out to me, and I almost reluctantly accepted it. 

"I do remember, but I don't think I can consume much else after that wonderful lunch you prepared for us, Alfred." 

"Flattery gets you nowhere, miss. Drink it all." He stood there so expectantly, his gaze piercing me like a sharp knife. Hesitantly, I sipped from the glass. My words had been the honest truth, I was still full from lunch. At least finishing a small amount got Alfred to turn and head back towards the kitchen. 

I looked at the glass in my hand that was still nearly full. Finishing it completely would be too impossible a feat at the moment, but I didn't feel like pouring it down the drain. I thought once again of that short video, of the woman with her own bottle of water, and suddenly, I knew exactly what to do with the remaining water. 

...

I had successfully emptied the glass of water onto the floor, a puddle beneath my feet. I made sure to splash some on my clothes before stuffing the glass inside an indoor potted bush. Someone would find it later, I was sure. The prank had been set perfectly next to the staircase on the marble flooring. Observing the scene, I grinned. If this actually were to work... 

"Damian, go tell your father that my water broke!" I yelled up the stairs for the person I knew to be in his room. 

I saw his head pop around the corner, observing with narrowed eyes, already suspicious. He was always suspicious. But my staged scene was convincing enough. Holding back mirth, I watched as his eyes widened and he made four bounds down the thirty stairs before disappearing into the Batcave's entrance.

Before I could get my laughter out of my system, Bruce, Stephanie, Damian, and Tim were tripping over each other in their haste to be by my side. I clutched my stomach and groaned in mock agony.

"Mom!" I watched with amusement as Tim rushed to my side before falling victim to the puddle of water and slipping, falling and sliding across the floor on his backside. Stephanie, ignoring Tim's accident, was the first to arrive at my side, her enthusiasm clear.

"Is Emma coming?!" She put her hand on my stomach, trying to feel the movement of the baby. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly while acting like I was in pain. 

"You mean Ava is coming!" Bruce was about to scoop me into his arms, but instead, slipped in the puddle and landed next to Tim on the marble floor. I ignored my husband's groaning and decided to fight for the victory, while still clutching my stomach. 

"Ava? You really mean it?"

"Yes!" Bruce hastily picked himself up, but I could see his bruised ego underneath his concern and panic. Before I could ensure that my battle for my daughter's name was won, I was picked up and nearly dropped again as Bruce clumsily fought with the closet door that stored the delivery bag we had packed a month or two before. "Timothy, get the bag out of the closet!"

I covered my mouth to keep my laughter inside. Tim had been watching the scene with interest from the floor, but he snapped to attention to retrieve the bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jason rounding the corner, looking like he had just woken from a long slumber. 

"Wha's goin on?" His sleepy eyes weren't registering the display before him. 

"Your mother is about to give birth in our hallway!" My poor husband growled before marching with me to the entryway of the mansion. 

"Oh, congratu... huh?" Jason blinked at me. 

"Alfred! Where's the damn car!" Bruce was sweating at this point, but I was thoroughly amused. This prank actually worked.

"In the garage, sir, would you like me to fetch it for you?" Alfred, the only calm soul in the vicinity, called from the kitchen. 

"Yes! Right now!" 

Seconds later, I was being half carried, half hauled out the front door. A small crowd of our family members had gathered, trying to be as helpful as they could, but in reality it was simply Cassandra and Stephanie badgering Bruce with questions about when they could come see the baby, Tim slipping once again in the puddle, and Jason trying to get through to Dick's cell phone. It was when I was stuck in the back seat of the car like a bag full of golf clubs that I decided it was time to come clean. "Guys, I'm just kid-" 

I was cut off when Damian slid into the seat next to me with his beloved sword drawn. "Come on, Pennyworth, drive!" His words were intensified as he waved the sword in the air. 

"Damian, no, it was just a-"

"Damian, you put that away this instant!" Bruce cut me off once again. "You'll kill your sister before she's even born!" I could see Alfred giving us a side eye from the driver's seat.

"Bruce, Bruce, my water didn't even-" 

"Don't worry, one of the kids will clean it up, let's go!" He pushed Damian out of the seat and took his place before slamming the car door shut. 

Alfred glanced at us from the rearview mirror. "Yes sir, is the madam comfortable?"

"No I'm not comfortable!" I grabbed Bruce's hand, trying to get his focus as the car pulled out of the gates.  I noticed that the car was turning the opposite direction of the hospital. "Darling, I was-"

"I know it hurts, just hang on," he pressed a kiss to my cheek before proceeding to dial Dick's number on his cell phone. "Why isn't he picking up?!"

"It was a prank!" Laughing, I grabbed his face in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Darling, darling, I was just kidding. It was a prank." 

His eyes were blank for a moment before the realization hit. "Are you ser... (Y/N)!" 

Chuckling, I pressed my lips to his forehead. "She's not coming yet, I just wanted to see if you'd fall for it."

"But of course I would... did... fall for it..." He grabbed my hand in mine before sighing and kissing the back of it. "Alfred, she pranked us."

"Yes, sir, she certainly did." I could see the butler's half amused glare from the mirror before the car came to a stop at a red light.

My husband pressed a kiss to my lips before giving me an unamused look. "We're naming her Emma, you've lost your naming rights."

I burst into laughter, returning the glare. "I am her mother, I have naming rights!"

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "Not after that stunt. Don't you agree, Alfred?"

Alfred didn't respond to the question, but instead nodded at the shopping center next to the stoplight. "How convenient, we happen to be right next to the madam's favorite restaurant, shall we make a stop?"

"Yes, that's perfect." Bruce pressed a kiss to my cheek as the car pulled into the parking lot. "I'll get your usual and we can bring it home?" 

"Perfect indeed," I chuckled, still in shock that my prank had worked so well. I rested my hand on my stomach while my husband stepped out of the car. Watching him disappear into the doors of the restaurant, I looked over at Alfred. "This restaurant is nowhere near the hospital." 

"I do know that, madam." 

"And we were supposed to be going to the hospital." 

"Were we?"

"You knew?" 

Alfred turned in the driver's seat, holding up the empty water glass I had stored in the bush just minutes before, giving me a displeased glance. "I'd bury it a bit deeper next time, Miss (Y/N)." 

Part Two

[braunaza]

saccharine summer .•° ✿

➸ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

➸ candied comprehension

ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

∘◦❀◦∘ so sorry this took so long to come out! i’ve been really busy with both work and hockey so i’ve not had much time for writing recently

∘◦❀◦∘ warnings -> (very) light swearing

∘◦❀◦∘ loser!ellie x (lowkey) loser!reader + acquaintances to lovers + friends(?) to lovers, fluff!

Ellie was mortified.

She had asked Joel to help her set up the projector within her room so that the two of you could have a movie marathon. However, whilst doing so, Joel had decided to grace you with his many unfunny jokes.

“Ellie and I went to the aquarium last week. We didn’t stay long though.” He said whilst plugging wires into a small box. “There was something fishy about that place.”

Despite the lameness of the joke, you still let out a polite giggle. This was the first time you had met Joel. He seemed nice, and whilst Ellie would never admit it, you thought that his sense of humour was very similar to hers. Her jokes were equally as unfunny as his.

“Can you hurry up?” Ellie groaned as humiliation filled her voice.

“Am I embarrassing you in front of your girlfriend?” Joel quipped as he finished setting up.

At his words, Ellie murmured under her breath that you “weren’t her girlfriend” before quickly ushering him out of her bedroom. Hurriedly, she shut her door behind him and turned to you.

“Sorry about him.” She said sheepishly, causing you to snicker slightly.

“Don’t worry about it. I thought his jokes were sweet.” You responded as you looked around Ellie’s room. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the many posters decorating the walls. How many Star Wars posters did someone need? The whole area was methodically messy with a couple of hoodies strewed across the floor. The disorder wasn’t that bad, but that was only because she had rapidly tidied the room before your arrival. The whole bedroom was very Ellie.

Ellie grabbed her phone, which Joel had already connected to the projector, off of her scuffed nightstand before opening Disney Plus. As she did so, you lay yourself down on her bed; making yourself comfortable.

“Aren’t these movies for children?” Ellie questioned as she clicked on the first Descendants film.

“They’re for everyone.” You retorted as you took a handful of sweet popcorn from the bag. “To be fair, Ever After High was way better than Descendants. I can’t believe you’ve never watched either of them before. They’re so good.” Ellie shrugged in response. Growing up, she had never been one to watch Disney movies. They weren’t exactly her thing.

“I’ll take your word for it.” She said as she started the first film. As the opening narration began, you snuggled yourself into her Spider-Man duvet. Ellie could feel you moving against her, and it was distracting. You were distracting. She could barely focus on the film as you settled yourself beside her.

As the movie went on, Ellie realised that her previous assumption about it being for adolescents was correct. However, you were completely taken by nostalgia to realise. You would let out childlike laughs at their simple jokes and would loudly sing along during the musical numbers, especially during ‘Did I Mention’ and ‘If Only’. As Ellie watched you, she saw that you seemed completely enthralled in the movie. It was actually really cute. Overall, whilst you thought it was a masterpiece, Ellie thought the first movie was just alright. It wasn’t exactly the most thrilling but if you enjoyed it, she was happy.

“The second movie’s the best one.” You stated as the ending song, ‘Set It Off’, began playing. “In order from best to worst, it goes the second one, first one, and then the third one.”

“Isn’t there a fourth one that just came out?”

“We don’t talk about that one.” You responded quickly. Ellie snickered at your snappy response before clicking on the second film.

Ellie had to agree. The second movie was far better. From the general plot to the songs, everything was just ten times better.

“She’s so fit.” You said out of the blue causing Ellie to turn her head sharply before her slit eyebrows raised out of confusion. In response, you nodded your head towards the projection as it cuts to a scene with Uma and Mal within the chip shop. “I think Uma’s really fit.” You clarified with a small chuckle. “She’s just so rugged and cool. I thought she was so hot when I was younger.”

“Not really my type.” Ellie responded with a shrug as she continued to look at you.

“What is your type then?” Your voice was so velvety when you asked her that question. Slowly, you brought your soft eyes off of the film and to her. Ellie’s breath hitched. You were so close to her. In fact, you were practically snuggling against her. In this position, all Ellie could smell was your obnoxiously sweet perfume. It was suffocating her. Ellie silently stared into your eyes for a moment before bringing her attention back to the movie; leaving your question unanswered.

For the rest of the movie, Ellie was constantly aware of you. She was aware of how close you were to her. She was aware of your gentle gasping; your soft giggles. She was aware of everything.

After what felt like an eternity, the credits started to roll. Ellie took this as an opportunity to quickly pull herself up off of her bed and escape your presence. Following her lead, you softly sat up out of your lying position.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” Ellie muttered; her voice slightly shaking as she spoke. “It’s already past midnight and we didn’t have dinner. We can’t just eat sweets and popcorn, you know.”

You laughed at her words.

“When did you become so responsible?” You jested causing Ellie to let out an airy, awkward laugh.

After you both made your way down the creaking stairs, Ellie opened the kitchen door for you allowing you to enter. Joel was already inside as he read a book called ‘An Idiot’s Guide To Space’. Ellie made her way past him and over to the fridge as she swung it open and took out a frozen pizza. As she chucked the box onto the table where Joel was sitting, he let out a scoff.

“What happened to please and thank you?” Joel gruffed as he took off his small reading glasses. Ellie rolled her eyes in response before grumbling out a small ‘thanks’ in response. Joel stood up before making his way over to his old fashioned oven and unpackaging the cardboard box. As he did so, Ellie slumped herself down on a chair that was previously tucked into the kitchen island. You followed her as you gracefully placed yourself down in the seat next to her.

“Thank you for having me, Mr Miller.” You spoke up softly as he cooked the pizza for the two of you.

“It’s no problem.” Joel responded before looking over at Ellie. “You are an extremely polite girl. Perhaps, you’ll influence this one.” You couldn’t help the small chuckle that left your lips. At his words, Ellie stuck her tongue out as you observed their rascally relationship. Watching the dynamic between Ellie and Joel was very sweet and you couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on your face at their interactions.

“You’re not funny.” She retorted.

“Your friend thinks I’m funny.” As Joel spoke, Ellie swivelled her head only to catch you in the act of smiling. She let out a long sigh before tutting and jokingly muttering out the word ‘traitor’.

After half an hour of back and forths, the pizza was finally ready. Ellie sloppily took it out of the oven before she slung the pizza onto a large plate. As she went to leave the room, Joel called on Ellie and informed the two of you to keep the noise down as he was heading to bed. Ellie mumbled out a witty comment about his age in response before heading upstairs with you closely following behind her.

“After we watch the next one, we can go out to stargaze.” She mentioned as she took a seat on the edge of her bed; noticeable further away from you than before. Ellie placed the plate down next to her, in the space between the two of you, creating a physical barrier between you and her.

“This is my least favourite one.” You commented as you started slowly eating a slice of pizza. “Other than the fourth one, of course.” Ellie nodded in response as she took a slice for herself and clicked onto the third and final movie.

You were right. The third one was boring as hell. Whilst Ellie thought the first two were childish and rather repetitive, this was on a different level. Unlike this one, the other two movies actually had compelling characters and arcs. They also had relatively cool villains. In the third one, Ellie found the villain, Audrey, to be completely comical and non-threatening. The only thing that got her through that movie was the pizza. And you, of course.

When the final song, ‘Break This Down’, started to play, Ellie couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as a small ‘finally’ left her lips.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like that one?” You asked rhetorically.

“Fuck no.” Her blunt response made you chuckle. “Next time we do this, we’re doing the Jurassic Park movies.”

“Next time, we can do whatever you want.”

As you spoke, you swayed a little too close to Ellie. The proximity, with the addition of your sweet smile, made her heart speed up. Quietness enveloped the two of you for a moment as you stared softly at one another. The sweet silence was broken by Ellie clearing her throat and standing up off of her bed.

“Do you want to go outside now?” Ellie asked, not quite meeting your eyes as she spoke, before chucking on a plain grey hoodie from the floor and picking up a folded pair of binoculars from her desk. Ellie grabbed her phone from the bedside table before unconnecting it from the projector box. The time on her phone claimed that it had already passed three in the morning, meaning that it would be an ideal time to see the different planets, stars and constellations in the night’s sky. You nodded before following her out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

Ellie quietly opened the back door, as to not awake Joel, allowing the cool night air to flow inside of the house. The breeze was refreshing compared to the blazing heat of the day and the stuffiness of Ellie’s room. As you stepped outside, you tilted your head upwards to gaze at the dark sky. It was a perfect night. There wasn’t a cloud in sight which gave you and Ellie a clear view of the stars. You lay down on the prickly grass as Ellie followed your actions by lying down next to you.

Neither of you said anything as you embraced the peaceful night.

“Do you see that really bright light there?” Ellie asked; breaking the silence. Her tone was unusually soft as she pointed upwards to the sky. You followed her hand to see the speck of light that she was referring to. “That’s Saturn.”

“Woah, really? That’s sick.”

“Not really, it’s one of the brightest planets. It’s observable most nights.” Ellie explained bashfully. “Do you want to see something that’s actually sick?”

She shuffled around the deep pockets of her hoodie before taking out the small binoculars. She brought them to her eyes for a moment before handing them to you. As you put the binoculars on, Ellie guided your face to where she had been previously looking at.

“See that shiny speck there? That’s Dwarf Planet 1 Ceres.” She stated as you looked at it through the binoculars. “And see the dim stars around it? That’s the Sagittarius constellation. Despite people who are Sagittarius’ being in November and December, it’s actually visible during summer in the northern hemisphere.” As Ellie began to ramble, you slowly turned your head to look at Ellie. You’ve always loved hearing her explain things that she’s passionate about. Right now, she was in her element.

“You’re really smart, Ellie.” You spoke softly, catching her by surprise. Her green eyes widened at your words. Due to the surrounding darkness, you were unable to see Ellie’s face clearly. However if you could, you would’ve seen the pale blush that slowly spread across her freckled cheeks.

“Thanks.” She mumbled as a small smile involuntarily appeared.

As Ellie began to blabber on about different planets and stars, you could feel your eyelids start to become heavy. You were determined to stay awake. You needed to stay awake to complete the bucket list, but her voice was just so soft. It was hypnotising you. You could easily fall asleep to her voice. And you did.

After a while, Ellie realised that you were no longer responding to her prattle. She slowly turned her head to see your eyes gently shut. She should’ve woken you up. She knew that you would be mad if she didn’t, but it was only about half an hour to sunrise anyways. Ellie would just lie and claim that you didn’t fall asleep. She would claim that you simply closed your eyes for a moment.

Plus, you looked so peaceful when you were asleep.

Ellie waited until she saw a hint of orange creep over the horizon before waking you up. Your eyes woozily opened as you felt Ellie gingerly jab the side of your stomach. As you came to, you saw Ellie peering down at you with a gentle grin.

“You almost fell asleep.” Ellie commented calmly. “But I saved you and our bucket list. You’re welcome.”

A chuckle left your lips as you shakily sat up and rubbed your eyes.

The two of you sat in pleasant peace as the orange hue slowly rose as light began to overtake the previous darkness. The golden rays from the upcoming sun gave colour to the surrounding summer nature. The nearby forest gained back it’s vibrancy as the sunrise caused it to glow. As the warmness grew, soft shades of pink and red emerged creating a scene from the heavens for the both of you to witness.

“It’s beautiful.” Ellie looked over at you as you spoke.

Her breath hitched when she saw you. In this light, you were just as, if not more, ethereal as the sunrise. The warmness of the rising sun caused your skin to glow. You must’ve been blessed when you were born because Ellie had never seen anyone look that pretty at five o’clock in the morning. You looked heavenly. The hazed look on your face as you admired the encircling beauty created a sweet softness about you. That only added to your allurement. Ellie couldn’t help but stare at you rather than the first light.

“Yeah, it is.”

Fuck.

∘◦❀◦∘ taglist -> @diddiqueen @liasxeatt @ravyaryn @kitkattyb @ratdungeon @smiths-fan--13

[cosmonadarovicarts]

Theory: Carmilla would be Eve?

Among so many crazy theories (and I love it!) after this season, I'm going to bring my (crazy) theory. As the title already reveals, what if Carmilla Carmine was our missing Eve? Before you throw hate, here are some points:

-In some versions of the myth of the creation of Adam and Eve, Eve was condemned to hell (while Adam went to heaven). If the series goes down this path, the character wouldn't be in heaven;

-Carmilla's name: Originated from Hebrew culture. Carmila/Carmela/Carmilla/Carmile means garden, orchard. Well... I don't think it would be too much of a coincidence for the name to mean that (garden... Garden of Eden...).

-Eve was created from Adam's rib. Here I come up with the theory that the exorcist angels guided by Adam (including Vaggie) were created from his ribs (like Eve). This would explain the similarity in appearance of Vaggie, Lute and Carmilla.

--Carmilla's personality: she is super protective! The super mom of the series (so far). It is to be expected that Adam's second wife, mother of humanity, would be maternal./ "but she was presented as the mother of only two characters" man, she still seemed super worried about the day of extermination (she called a meeting with the Overlords precisely to think of ways to stop this), after all, the sinners were their descendants! (I'm not going to talk here about Adam's relationship with sinners, that would be worth another post) And, the same time, the exorcists would be like her sisters who she was reluctant to kill. I would also like to add here, I think Zestial could be Cain (one of his main sons and, precisely, the first sinner, as he killed his other brother Abel), this would explain the affection that Carmilla has for Zestial and for them both being the oldest Overlords! (Cain died before Eve in many versions of the myth) /Sure, they might just be good friends, but to me it made a lot of sense, my bad

-Her appearance: I've already commented on her resemblance to Vaggie (the two even duet two songs, expressing similar feelings), but now let's compare her appearance with her hair down with Eve's silhouette in the first episode (just look at the image I posted here) , it's identical! And of course, the second wife would have to be beautiful, and Carmilla is said to be beautiful.

--"ok but it is much more likely that she was one of the exorcist angels, taking into account her appearance and knowledge, why would Eve have an appearance similar to these angels?" Precisely because they came/were born from the same place, Adam's ribs! When Eve died, her demonic form still assumed that of a beautiful woman with large hands (representing her need to be able to hold, care for and hug everyone). Maybe Adam knew or didn't know how Eve was doing, and made his female army similar to his ex-wife (For me, this part would have several possibilities, like, him purposely making the appearance of the exorcists or it would just be because they were all born from the same place)

-In the final episode, when the news reports about what happened at the Hotel, the reactions of several characters appear, and there was one (emphasis?) in Carmilla's reaction to Adam's death (I imagine that, because she was against the extermination of sinners (her descendants) while her ex-husband, who lived in heaven, led this extermination, she should not have good feelings towards him).

Final note: Even if she is not Eve, probably she was one of the exorcist angels (as many already theorize), as she knew about the angelic weapons, knew of Vaggie's identity and her appearance.

(Sorry if there are a lot of grammatical errors, English is not my native language)

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓗𝓾𝓻𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓟𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓜���� (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 3)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, panic attack, manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader  summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 3) author’s note: this is the longest one yet. I hope it's good <3 thanks for all the love and support. If I'm planning this correctly, there'll be one more chapter in this series, so lookout for that, I'll keep you updated. Let me know which song(s) off Lemonade you want for the last chapter. I've gotten suggestions for Jolene or Daughter too, might play around with that. Love and thanks <3 Series Pinterest Board Series Spotify Playlist

Whoever said a house divided against itself cannot stand was wrong. It can, but it’s not an easy house to live in. It’s only when someone sets fire to the house that it falls.

As you avoided him the next couple of weeks, you half hoped he missed you, but decided not to give it too much thought. He didn’t deserve that. The silent treatment, although childish, weaned results in your previous experience.

The day he was supposed to meet her came and went, and you were restless for all of your waking hours. Part of you wanted to confront him, the other, more stubborn part said to leave it. You’d made your statement. If he wanted you back then he’d have to make the first move.

It was peaceful existing outside his constant gaze. Having the whole bed to yourself was nice too. You didn’t have to curate what you wore to sleep, didn’t have to constantly make sure your expressions were pleasing to him.

Although you kind of missed his warm body next to yours. His hands reaching out in the night, making you feel wanted…

No. He didn’t want you. He wanted everything. He thought he could have everything. But as long as you were distant, he couldn’t.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how to continue from here. What does one do after they confront their husband about his cheating? It wasn’t like your mother had warned you about this. So you stayed quiet and stayed away. 

As long as you were able to, at least.

There was a gala tonight, a big one, and even though you weren’t exactly on speaking terms, you knew it’d be bad for your image if you didn’t go together. It’d be the same as all these parties were, drinks and chatting mindlessly, pictures taken of you and Coriolanus together looking like the beautiful couple you pretended to be.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun with it. 

So when you descended the stairs that night in a deep burgundy dress so red it was almost black, you held back a smirk at the look on your husband’s face. He was in his red suit, that red suit, the one you’d debated stuffing a pair of your panties into the pocket of, but decided against.

The dress was silk, falling off your shoulders with a high slit up the side that wasn’t visible until you walked. Your hair was curly, in its natural state, a way you hadn’t dared wear in front of him before. It was messy, but pretty, and you felt more yourself than you had in ages.

Coriolanus’ face was even, but his eyes betrayed him. They widened slightly, and that little mark of hunger flickered in his irises, just as you’d hoped. His eyes traveled from your legs to your waist, and landed on your hair. “I requested that you wear white.”

You stopped at the second to last step on the staircase. “Your request has been submitted.”

He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. You knew his possessive side was taking over, seeing you in the color he loved so much. Gracefully, you reached the bottom, and you both walked silently to the waiting car outside. 

The ride was quiet, and you kept your eyes out the window, watching the trees and buildings pass you by. Your posture was perfect, your face void of any emotion. You were calm, but he didn’t know that, and it was delicious.

Coriolanus watched you shamelessly, but you did not once turn your head to look at him. 

Once you arrived at the event at someone’s mansion, Coriolanus stepped out of the car, giving you a hand to help you out, and you took it, your hand sliding up to the crook of his arm. You made sure your face was set in a gracious smile. The president and his perfect wife. Your dress would certainly make headlines. You’d never worn anything this bold before, usually sticking to soft, light colors.

There were photographers everywhere, and you made sure to look up at Coriolanus lovingly, your stupid, foolish heart melting when you found he was looking at you the same way. It’s not real, you had to remind yourself. It. Isn’t. Real.

But oh…he was so handsome. And the way he held your hand in the cradle of his arm, made sure you didn’t trip over your dress as you went up the stairs…you hated yourself for the feelings coursing through you. He cheated on you.

As you entered the party, you struggled to put your emotions back in their box. Coriolanus wound his arm around your waist, signaling that you should stay close to him, but you ignored it, taking a glass of champagne and moving toward where some of the other wives had gathered.

Your husband caught you around the waist again, his fingers digging into your side. “Right by me, dove.” Coriolanus’ expression was firm, and his eyes bored a hole into you. 

Tilting your head as your eyebrows raised, you took a sip of your drink. “I want to say hello. Be a good First Lady.”

“You can do that by keeping by my side,” he said coldly. His voice lowered so only you could hear. “I don’t care what you think you know, we have an image to maintain.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about image,” you said in a sharp whisper. “That's all we are.”

With that, you jerked yourself away, and this time you were too fast to stop him.

Talking with the other wives went exactly how you thought. Mindless gossip, compliments on your dress, tentative tactics on their part to try and figure out what went on behind the walls of the president’s mansion. You’d always enjoyed playing with them, giving them just enough ‘information’, but still keeping the secrecy that kept them interested. That was your job- to be interesting. To be an extension of Coriolanus, but better. Charming, beautiful, sweet.

Eventually, you tired of them, and returned to him, another champagne glass in hand. You would’ve had to eventually, and you wanted it to be on your own terms. He was speaking with a senator and his dark haired wife. As you approached them, he twined his arm back around your waist, greeting you with a dutiful kiss to your hairline, his eyes still on the senator as he rambled about district funding. 

You smiled at his wife, knowing you’d have to engage in conversation with her while the men did. She smiled back, studying you, her careful eyes catching on your neck, on the burn mark that hadn’t fully healed yet. Your hair had been covering it up so far, but apparently on your walk over, it’d moved aside. 

The dark haired woman frowned, and she looked at you, curiosity thinly veiled by feigned concern. “Whatever happened to your neck? It looks painful.”

The conversation between the two men halted, and they both looked at you. You allowed an innocent expression to take over your face, and you moved your hair modestly so the mark was covered again. “Oh…Coriolanus got a bit carried away is all,” you said, looking up at him with a sweet smile, your hand on the back of his shoulder. “Right, dearest?”

His mouth was firmly set as he looked down at you, eyes were hard. He’d had about enough of your behavior, and you could see it. But instead of yelling at you or gripping your waist tighter, he smirked.

 Then he took your glass away. “That’s enough for you I think.” The senator laughed, and your husband drank the little champagne that was left. 

You just watched him, your smile fading a bit. In a single motion, he’d taken the power back, made you look like a fool. Your cheeks flushed a bit, and you forced a smile onto your face, succumbing to his grip.

 The next hour was a parade of pointless small talk and stillness on your part. This felt unfamiliar- you were usually sweet and chatty with all those you greeted, charming even the frostiest of figures. 

This trait had always been a part of you, ever since you’d been inducted into Capitol society. Quickly, you’d learned you liked it when people liked you, and over the years, your charm had developed naturally. You suspected it was what drew him to you initially. The two of you had met at one of these types of parties after all.

When you and Coriolanus debuted your engagement, society had been no less than thrilled. Their beautiful effervescent debutante paired with the handsome up and coming politician. And when he’d become president within your first year of marriage, well, it was a supernova. The tabloids had dubbed you “Panem’s Princess” because of it. 

You thought of that girl as you smiled listlessly at passerby, nodding along with whatever Coriolanus was saying, mourning the innocence you’d lost. That girl felt like a character in a book now, relatable, but far beyond your grasp. She’d been so hopeful, and he’d torn it all down.

Coriolanus squeezed your side briefly, and you smiled a little brighter, nodding at the man he was talking to like you’d been paying attention, hoping your demeanor wasn’t too noticeable.

Oh, who were you kidding? The papers would have a field day with this. They followed your every move at public events. Looking down at where Coriolanus’ hand was situated, slightly over your tummy, you could hear the headlines. FIRST LADY EXPECTED TO EXPECT! PANEM’S PRINCESS PREGNANT? 

Not that it really mattered, you supposed. The rumors would die down. Your marriage wouldn’t.

Your husband excused himself with a whisper and a squeeze to your waist, and you didn’t watch him leave, not really caring in the moment where he went. Immediately, you were accosted by another wife, admonishing compliments on your dress. 

“I’ve never seen you match with President Snow,” she said, smiling brightly. “Trying something new?”

You nodded, smiling back warmly. Panem’s Princess. “To be honest, it was a complete accident. But I wasn’t about to change.”

She laughed. “The two of you are so sweet. The entire country’s jealous of your relationship.”

Smile fading a bit, you excused yourself, apologizing to her as you did. The innocent comment opened the box of feelings you’d tried to kick aside. Pretending was agony. How was it going to get easier, acting like he loved you?

You stumbled into the hallway, darting just around a nearby corner for a moment of privacy, your back against the wall, the coolness of it breathing a little life into you. Breathing ragged, you rested your head against the wall, trying to regain your calm but it proved difficult.

If he’d truly never cared about you, this must have come easily. Jealousy overwhelmed you at the thought. As your mind wandered to the future, you were overwhelmed by the idea of thousands more of these events. Was it going to be this agonizing every time? This would be unbearable.

Thinking of before, you tried to come to a conclusion. Maybe you could be done avoiding him now. Surely he’d learned his lesson. You could move past this, learn to forgive him. Maybe, just maybe, if you allowed yourself to care about him again, it would be easier. It could be like before.

You’d decided to talk to him when you got home, when you heard voices around the corner, by where the door to the party was. It was Coriolanus, you realized. Curious, you listened closer, moving a little bit to the side to have a better vantage. That was him all right. Authoritative, but soft enough that you couldn’t really hear what he was saying. And then someone else started talking. A woman.

Immediately, you moved around the corner to see them, keeping yourself in the shadows. If he looked up, he’d see you, but his eyes were focused on the woman in front of him. The dark haired woman.

It was the senator’s wife. Them being alone together wasn’t enough to suspect anything. But the way he was looking at her.

Your eyes widened as you realized it. It’s her. 

Coriolanus tilted her chin up as he said something quietly. His face was hardened, and he nodded once at her response. Then she went back into the party, leaving him alone. You forgot you were in a spot where he’d see you, frozen in place. Then he looked up, his sharp blue eyes piercing you.

The two of you were locked there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Then, without even realizing it, you moved toward him, anger making you faster.

Your hand moved of its own volition, yanking his collar so his face was close to yours. “What the fuck was that?”

He made no move to stop you. “Calm down, dove-”

The pet name only angered you further, and you pulled harder. “You were four feet from the door. Discretion isn’t your strong point, is it?”

Coriolanus pulled your hand off his collar, gripping it and suffocating your fingers. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“Save it,” you hissed, trying to pull your hand away. “Save it for her. She’s still under your spell.”

Your hand was freed, and you went back into the party, fury numbing you, objectives unclear. In a haze, you glided to her husband, greeting him sweetly. He excused himself from whom he was previously speaking immediately as you worked your charm on him, smiling brightly and laughing. 

Then you touched his arm, moving just slightly closer. Enough for him to notice, enough for him to notice, but not enough for a nosy reporter to sell it into a story.

The senator looked pleased, and he gave you a tentative smile, opening his mouth to say something-

An arm claimed your waist for the millionth time tonight, and you were pulled into your husband’s chest, his other hand on the back of your neck, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder, hiding you from the world. The cool of his wedding ring was pressed against your skin

“Apologies, Senator,” Coriolanus said smoothly. “It seems my wife didn’t slow down on the champagne.”

You heard a faint chuckle, and then Coriolanus dropped his lips to the top of your head, hand smoothing over your curls. Since you hardly ever wore your hair like this, you knew he’d been dying to touch it all night.

The senator must have left, because he leaned down and whispered, “We’re leaving. Now.”

The walk back to the car was a blur as he pulled you through the crowd, and you kept up as gracefully as you could, hurrying down the stairs and nearly tripping over your dress. The second the door was shut, he turned to you, his face furious. “The next man you touch dies.”

You slapped him, an instant response. His face was unmoving, his glare stronger now. The anger simmered in both of you. 

“Try not to hurt yourself,” you spat, your other hand balling into a fist, nails digging into your palm.

His hands were around your wrists in a flash. “You are mine. After everything I’ve given you, everything-”

“What about what I’ve given you?” you retorted, your hair falling forward over your shoulders as you looked up at him. “You really think you could’ve done anything without my image? I’m Panem’s Princess. Without me you’re just a man who got lucky.”

“Don’t you go there,” he said coolly, gripping your wrists tighter. But you could tell your words had gotten to him, hit him right in the ego.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You leaned closer to him. “You know as well as I do that you’re well liked. But I’m adored. You’re too caught up in your own image to realize I’m helping you more than you ever did me.”

The car stopped in front of the mansion, and you got out, pulling your wrists away, kicking off your shoes and picking them up, walking up the stairs, not caring if he followed but knowing he would.

As the door shut behind the both of you, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him. “Tonight had better be an anomaly. You show up in this dress, flirt with someone beneath me and think you can get away with it?”

“I could say the exact same thing to you,” you scoffed, almost laughing. “Everyone thinks you’re something to be afraid of, but all I see is a little boy who thinks he can have it all.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset by any of this,” he said frustratedly, and you scoffed again, looking away in disbelief. “You knew the terms of this marriage. It’s not like I hurt you.”

You were silent, staring at him, waiting for him to figure it out. It took him one minute, and it was one minute longer than you’d have liked. His face fell slightly as he realized, his eyes widening slightly. “You…you…”

There were hot tears in your eyes, and you cursed yourself for it. Stupid, stupid feelings. Stupid, beautiful man.

“I thought…you cared about me,” you said, your voice only breaking a little, holding strong. “Not loved. Cared. And I was wrong. So wrong.”

Coriolanus shook his head and released your wrists, stepping toward you a little. “I do care about you…”

You shook your head, looking up at him, a single cursed tear falling down your cheek. “I don’t know if you care about anyone. Not me, not her, nobody. You’re the king of everything…” you spread your arms out wide for a second, letting them fall to your sides. “But being at the top isn’t what you thought it’d be.”

He kept quiet for once.

Closing your eyes, you brought a hand to your brow, trying to breathe steadily. All the emotion and panic from the night was encircling you, backing you into a tighter and tighter spot. 

Seeing him with her…his hand on her chin…how many times has he seen her since…I don’t want him…I want him…he cheated…

Your legs grew weak, and you dropped your shoes, collapsing to your knees, chest heaving and ears ringing. Your nails dug into your palms, trying to capture the tension there, but failing. He was on the ground next to you in an instant, hand on your back. You shook your head, trying to push him away. “Don’t…please don’t…”

Coriolanus ignored you, hand rubbing your back, trying to soothe you through it. He said your name softly, and you shook your head again. “Please go…”

You were trying to stay angry, trying to keep yourself the confident, intimidating woman he’d seen all night…but it’d all broken you down. Despite it all, despite the cheating and lying, you cared. You cared too much. It was worthless to pretend, too exhausting to have any kind of facade. And so you fell…fell back into his arms where you’d begun. 

He held you close to his chest, his hand pressing your head to him, your ear right over his heart. The steady beating of it calmed you, and you clung to him, gasping for air. Coriolanus dug his nose into your hair, taking in deep breaths that encouraged you to do the same. His thumb rubbed the space between your ear and your hair, his other arm secured protectively around you.

Gradually your breathing became regular again, but you still held tight to him. He was all you had right now. 

“Stay with me tonight love,” he murmured, staying perfectly still as you rested against him. “You never have to again. But…”

“I hate you,” you breathed shakily.

“I know, love,” he nudged his nose against your head. “I know. Stay with me.”

“If you ever do this again I’ll leave you,” you vowed softly, meaning it. “I’ll leave you…and you’ll never find me…”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he muttered, and you felt his ring against your skin again. “Stay with me tonight love.”

Love. You were too exhausted to argue, and you just slumped against him, letting him hold you close.

Half of your brain screamed at you to pull yourself away, to stand firm, to divide the house between you even further, make it crumble. But the softer part felt how gently he held you, how he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hoisting you into his arms as he stood up, carrying you up the stairs.

He cheated, he cheated, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated.

His bed was so familiar, and you’d missed it. Missed his scent surrounding you, his arms around you as you drifted off. 

He cheated.

Does he regret it?

Does it matter?

Lovelovelovelove.

A house set on fire cannot stand.

Previous part | Next part

come talk about coryo here!

[prettylittlels]

Special Night

summary: while performing your latest song, Houdini, at the Golden Globes, your performance drives people crazy.

(tom blyth x singer!reader)

a/n: this song has been stuck in my head for the past few weeks and i needed to make a scenario w it. hope you like it!

ps: i'm akso running out of ideas so please send requests!!!

🪻🪩🌃🔮🎶

Tonight, I'm going to perform at the golden globes gala. My latest song, Houdini, has captured everyone's attention and soared thorugh the billboard Top 100. The problem isn't performing the song: I know every lyric and practised every detail of the choreography to the brim. The problem is who I'm performing it to. Hundreds of celebrities I admire and thousands and thousands of people around the world are going to be watching me sing.

-Y/n!- my manager interrupts my thoughts -You're on in two-

-Thanks, Diane - I say back, and start my vocal exercises.

In the middle of my preparation, I listen the host of the night announce my appearance. I smoothen out my little black dress and, slowly, I make my way to the stage. The lights are low and I still can't see anything farther than the edge of the stage. My earbud informs me the song will start in 3, 2, 1...

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

The crowd immediately starts roaring as the song plays for the first time. My choreography is catching everyone's eye. I feel the confidence soaring inside of me. This wasn't so bad as I thought it would be, huh?

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

The celebrities in front of me stand up one by one and dance to the rythm of the music. Since I was well known for interacting a lot with fans during concerts, why not do the same thing now?

Time is passin' like a solar eclipse

I descend the stairs in one of the stage's corners and the crowd screams even more. Searching for someone to dance with, I find first Anya Taylor Joy, dressed in a beautiful pale blue gown, singing along with me.

See you watchin' and you blow me a kiss

It's your moment, baby, don't let it slip

Come in closer, are you readin' my lips?

I make eye contact with her and blow her a kiss, following the lyrics. Her cheeks go red and laughs with me. I go closer to her and keep on singing along, until I signal to her to look at the camera and strike a pose with me.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

Moving on from Anya, I walk up a couple tables more. Next, I set my eyes on Pedro Pascal, dancing to the rythm with his eyes closed. I look surprised and the camera points towards where I'm looking. The crowd laughs as we dance together.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

Pedro spins me around sloppily and I sing and I give him a kiss on the cheek and continue walking down the carpeted hall. The choreography makes an appearance again, with a sexy twist: I drop to my knees suddenly and sing the bridge. I get up again and the most beautiful man fills my vision.

Everything you say is soundin' so sweet (ah)

But do you practice everything that you preach? (Ah)

I stare and get closer to him while singing. He sends a big gummy smile towards me and I try to keep my composure. I notice he's sitting next to Hunter Schafer, my good friend. I make a mental reminder to ask her about it later.

I need something that'll make me believe (ah)

If you got it, baby, give it to me

I walk a little more until I'm looking down at his face and bend down while still singing. Out of impulse, I grab his chin gently and bring him in closer so it looks likr we're kissing. Our lips graze each other's and I feel like an electric discharge electrocuted my entire body. I pull away at the last second and continue walking and dancing, trying not to come back to him.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Everyone's mouths are open after my little stunt. I smirk to myself and I decide that's it for today.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

I go up the stairs one last time to finish off the performance. The people are cheering for me again. But right now, I only care about one of them now. I search for the mystery man with my eyes all over the place, he's nowhere to be found.

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Screams and shouts fill the space when I finish the song. The camera focuses on the people who I've danced with and projects it onto the screens. First, Anya appears smiling and waves to the cameraman. Later, Pedro is still giddy from dancing and whoops loudly. Finally, Tom Blyth, as it says on the bottom of the screen, is clapping like everyone else. There are rests of a blush in his cheeks, but when he looks at the camera, he winks at it and lifts his hand with his pinky and thumb up, signaling a phone, mouthing the words "call me".

The camera switches back to me. I blow the last kiss to the audience and, before leaving, I make a "T" with my hands, and after a second I create a heart.