#thank you for following me on this journey

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 13

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 

You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 

As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 

‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 

The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 

“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 

“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 

“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 

The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 

“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 

“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 

The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 

The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 

“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 

“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 

“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 

The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 

You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 

“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 

“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 

“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 

“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 

“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 

“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 

The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 

“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 

She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 

“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 

“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 

The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 

“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 

“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 

“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 

“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 

“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 

“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 

“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 

“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 

“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 

The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 

“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 

You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 

You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 

You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 

You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 

You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 

“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 

The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 

“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 

“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 

The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  

“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 

“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 

Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 

“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 

As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 

You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 

You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 

Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 

“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 

“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 

Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 

“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 

“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 

“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 

Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 

“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 

“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 

He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 

“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 

“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 

“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 

Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 

The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 

“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 

You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 

“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 

“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 

“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 

“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 

“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  

As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 

“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 

“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 

“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 

“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 

Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 

“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 

“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 

You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 

“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 

The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 

“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 

“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 

The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 

“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 

Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 

[mammonsrockstargf]

Your most recent Luci fic—the one w the priest—is really good!

Not sure if you take requests rn, but I would love it if you could write something similar. For example, a fic about Luci with an ex-Catholic lover? Or maybe a lover who used to be a nun?

(I’m ex-Catholic, now agnostic-leaning-towards-atheist & when I was Catholic, I was in postulancy—training to be a nun—but…things happened lol)

hi, anon, thank you! <3 i'm glad you liked it. and wow, that sounds like quite the religious journey! i hope that you find something that makes sense for you. <3 i'm both baptized and confirmed in the protestant church but i'm an atheist now. (obv not the same at all, but i somewhat getchu >:D)

here goes! i hope you like it. <33

warning: very heavy religious themes!

When you're first teleported to the Devildom, your reaction is to say a prayer. It falls off your lips so easily. Call it old habits, call it shock. You're even surprised by it yourself, staring wide-eyed at Diavolo as the prayer slips your lips.

“Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil.”

Everyone is shocked. The prayer in itself doesn't really have that much of an effect, your dear god cannot save you here (not that you expected him to), but a deep shiver runs down Lucifer's back. It's safe to say he hasn't heard that prayer in a while.

As if isn’t enough that you just prayed for protection against the devil, the prayer that mindlessly slipped out of you is the prayer to the archangel Michael. It strikes a deep cord within Lucifer. He doesn’t blame you, per se, he’s just very very shocked.

He takes it like a challenge, even if he isn’t aware of it. He’ll question your faith constantly. You aren’t really interested in getting into your religious beliefs with this stranger, not to mention demon, who practically kidnapped you. So you just kind of ignore his questions or avoid them.

“Were you born into religion or did you find it later in life?”

“What?” You look at Lucifer tiredly, trying to bottle your annoyance. That’s the fifth question he’s asked today, despite you expertly avoiding his last four.

You’re in his office, seated at a chair in front of his desk. He pulled you in, saying you couldn’t leave until you did the homework you’d been skillfully neglecting. Lovely education reform.

“Were you born into religion or did-“ Lucifer begins to repeat. He seems rather immune to your annoyance, seemingly thinking his pursuit of your personal information is justified. You’ve come to find that Lucifer generally thinks that anything he does is completely justified.

“I heard you.” you interrupt and send him a tight-lipped smile. “I just didn’t want to answer you.” you follow up. Lucifer tilts his head to the side, red eyes piercing through you.

“Why not?” he asks. You sigh. Does this man never run out of questions? “You’re never going to get my approval if you don’t let me get to know you.” he lazily states, flipping some of the worksheets on his desk.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You really don’t wanna get into it but you do need his approval if you want to help the brothers and Belphegor…

“I was born into it. My parents are very religious,” you state while staring at your homework, not daring to make eye contact. It feels as though his eyes are burning holes into you. A small hum leaves Lucifer. “Very interesting, indeed,” he says, voice sounding almost melodic. When you finally look up at him, he’s grinning, while twirling his pen with his fingers. He thinks he’s won this round. Stupid prick.

Months later, when you’re lying in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, you finally breach the subject. “I was in postulancy for a while,” you say, completely out of the blue. You’re laying on his chest with his arm around your waist, the other caressing your hair.

You feel his body tensing underneath you for a few seconds before he softens again. You look up at him but he’s staring at the ceiling. “I practically grew up in the church. Mass every Sunday, youth choir every Tuesday, summer camp once a year…”

You lay your head on his chest again, looking at the wall. Lucifer doesn’t say anything, but his fingers move from your hair to rub soothing patterns into your back, encouraging you to continue. “It seemed the natural next step for me to become a nun. My entire community was the church. My parents were so proud as well. Their status in the church meant everything to them.”

A lump grows in your throat. “Sorry, I haven’t talked about this in so long, I’m rambling-“ you whisper. Lucifer's hand moves from your back to your chin, turning your head towards him. “Don’t apologize, little lamb. I am very proud of you for opening up to me,” he says and your breath slightly hitches. He smiles fondly at you and strokes your cheek. His smile then fades slowly. “It occurs to me that I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry that I was so insensitive when we met.”

You huff. “You were a dick,” Lucifer glares at you and pinches your cheek. “Now, now. I’ve admitted my faults, let’s not delve into it,” he says and you wince, gripping his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, old man, I’ll consider if you deserve my forgiveness,” you say and settle your head on his chest again. A small chuckle vibrates through Lucifer before a comfortable silence falls over you.

“What made you change your mind? Why aren’t you a nun, my little lamb?” he asks after a while. You think for a while, looking at your intertwined hands. His thumb presses small circles into the back of your hand.

“It just didn’t feel right, I guess,” you mumble. Lucifer nods. “Well, I, for one, am glad you didn’t go through with it. It would all be terribly complicated if you were already in a relationship with my Father.”

You let out a surprised laughter and push yourself up so your face is directly over his. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs tracing patterns into your bare skin, where your shirt has ridden up. “What a weird thing to say,” you giggle and Lucifer's brows furrow. “Well, it’s true-“ he begins, but your lips press to his before he can continue his weird family rambles. It’s a chaste kiss and you quickly press another to the corner of his lips and then one to his cheek and jaw.

After that, Lucifer is very gentle with you on the subject. He never prods or questions and only talks about it if you start the conversation. He'll even subtly change the topic if someone else brings it up. It's like a little secret between the two of you when he sends you confidential glances, making your heart flutter.

You're in a beautiful meadow. The sky is purple and you're wearing a heavy rosary with white beads around your neck. A pack of doves fly above you, circling like vultures. They begin diving for you, pecking you with their beaks, pulling at your skin and hair. You try to shield yourself with your arms, but it's useless against the many doves, plunging down. Their shrieks fill your ears and you cover your ears, but it's useless, the sound ringing in your head. You try to run, but the rosary has grown in size, pulling you down towards the ground. 

You wake with a fright, covered in sweat. Your breathing is heavy as you gasp for air. You put your face in your hands and run them through your hair. Your heart is beating harshly against your ribcage. Lucifer. You need to go to Lucifer. 

You stagger towards his room, weakly knocking on his door. "Come in," he sounds from the other side. You brace yourself against the door. "Lucy," you weakly say and the door immediately opens causing you to practically fall into him. 

In a flash, you're in his lap on his couch. He worriedly grabs your face and examines you. "What's wrong, my love?" he asks and you wrap your arms around him, sinking your face into the crook of his neck. "Nightmare," you mumble. You feel Lucifer physically relaxing underneath you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You feel your heartbeat slowing, as you're finally able to relax again.

"Wanna tell me about it?" he asks and you explain your dream, voice muffled against his skin. His hand finds your collarbone and he pushes you, just far enough so he can press his forehead against your own. You pout and furrow your brows. "It was so real, I swear I can still feel their beaks on my skin." 

"Where do you feel it?" Lucifer asks and you shrug. "Everywhere..." His gaze is soft as he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips. "You feel them here?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His lips trail up your arm. "Here?" he asks, eyes still on you. You nod and he presses a kiss to your arm. "Your shoulder as well?"

"Yes," Another kiss is pressed into your shoulder, then your collar bone, your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, your nose. You let out a giggle and he presses a last kiss to your forehead. "Did I miss anywhere?" he asks and you nod. His eyebrows raise. "Really? Where?" he ponders and you bring his thumb to your lips. "Here," you say and this time you're the one pressing a small kiss to his fingertip. 

"Oh," Lucifers says, eyes following your every move. He takes a sharp breath and pulls on your bottom lip. "We can't have that, now can we?" he says and you shake your head. He leans and kisses you and you kiss him back slowly. 

"Thank you, Lucy," 

"I'll always be here, my love,"

a/n: aaa thank you for reading, guys, i hope you liked this one!! you can find my other stuff here. <333

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 8)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N joins Harry for his last few shows in California and they take their relationship to the next level.

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

Word count: 3.8K

CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle

————————————————————————

Waking up on New Year’s Day, wrapped in your alpha’s arms, is truly the best way to start the year. Your scents mix beautifully together, and his bedroom feels like a sanctuary. The two of you spend the entire day at his house. It’s comfortable, domestic even the way you fit seamlessly into his home. You cook dinner together and once again end the night making love.

Even though you wake up the following morning the same way as the previous, there’s sadness in the air. It’s the day you leave to fly back home. Since Harry has a few meetings and other plans, he won’t be joining you in the states for a couple of weeks. It’s a shorter separation than the last one, but you still don’t want to say goodbye.

The alarm on your phone rings, and you roll over to face Harry. He presses a kiss to your temple, then nose, before finally reaching your lips. Just as the two of you are getting into a rhythm, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, your second alarm goes off. You know that if you don’t get up and get ready now you’re going to miss your flight. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in your opinion. But there’s an in-person “start of the year” meeting that you need to be at in a couple of days. So you pull yourself away with the last bit of personal restraint you possess.

Harry helps pack the last of your things while you shower, and he has breakfast waiting for you. Both plates are set in front of the chair that Harry’s sitting on, and you’re confused for a moment before you see the pleading look on his face. Understanding his silent request, you move to sit on his lap. You feel him relax beneath you as you grant him this last moment of intimacy.

After breakfast is finished you turn in Harry’s lap, straddling him now, so you can start to say goodbye. Even though he’s driving you to the airport, you both know you can’t share a proper moment there in case he’s spotted by fans.

The first thing he does is douse you in his scent. You melt the second his nose runs against your neck. He’s thorough, kissing and licking against the gland there, ensuring that you’ll smell of your alpha for your journey home. With one final, gentle, nip of his teeth on your skin, he pulls away satisfied.

“I don’t want to go,” you say with a pout.

“I know baby. I don’t want you to leave either,” he replies.

“Just two weeks, right?”

“Just two weeks. And then I’ll come get you and we’ll be in California together,” he confirms.

“Okay. I can do two weeks.” You take a deep breath before slotting your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s full of love.

You glance at the clock and sigh.

“Time to go,” Harry says sadly. The two of you get up and head to the car. Harry insists on carrying your bags, and then keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire drive. It’s these little ways that he shows he cares about you that you’ve never experienced before. He’s always making you fall for him even more.

When you arrive, he quickly shimmies his sweatshirt off and hands it to you. It’s doused in his scent, and it’s one of the coziest things you’ve ever worn.

“Thank you, alpha,” you say.

“Of course, omega. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” This comes out barely a whisper, as you fight to hold back tears. Harry releases calming pheromones and you take a deep breath to recenter yourself.

After a final goodbye you enter the airport, going through check-in and security. It’s an uneventful day of travel, and this time you manage to take a nap on the plane. One short uber ride later and you’re finally home.

You send Harry a quick text to let him know you’re home safe and that you’ll call him after a shower. You need to wash away the grime of traveling, but unfortunately this also washes away Harry’s scent.

There are still a couple bags of scented items that he’d given you, so you decide to spruce up your nest again. After your shower you call Harry and talk on the phone while you build it. The nest brings you the peace your omega requires to fall asleep without your alpha for the first time in weeks.

The time before Harry arrives passes slowly, as you knew it would. The touch deprivation doesn’t get too out of hand like it previously did. You have a telehealth call with your doctor during this time, just to check in with her. She explains that the symptoms being better likely means your omega knows it has an alpha who will always return to take care of it. It’s weirdly satisfying to know that there’s medical proof of how healthy your relationship with Harry is.

And then, finally, Harry is here. He stays with you for a few days, attending meetings in New York or taking phone calls about upcoming projects while you do your work. Each night is spent together watching movies, playing games, or just talking. Your friends come over and it’s perfect how seamlessly Harry fits in with the group.

The two of you fly together to California where Harry will be doing a number of shows in Los Angeles and Palm Springs. You stay at his LA home and cannot believe how beautiful it is. You go with him to rehearsals, where you enjoy watching the behind-the-scenes process as well as hanging out with the band and crew. You attend the shows, always in a VIP section, away from any danger, in order to calm Harry’s alpha.

You wake up early the morning of Harry’s birthday and sneak down to the kitchen of the beautiful Airbnb he’d rented in Palm Springs. Your goal is to make him a surprise breakfast in bed. He’s just starting to stir when you walk back in carrying a tray of food.

“Happy birthday,” you say as you place the tray on the dresser before leaning in to give Harry a kiss.

“Thank you my love,” he replies.

“Brought you breakfast, all your favorites.”

“It smells delicious!”

With that the two of you sit side-by-side in bed, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and occasionally feeding bites to each other. When you’re both full you move the tray to the side again and grab a couple presents you’d hidden in the closet.

“What’s all this? You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry says.

“It’s nothing special, just a few things that made me think of you.”

He unwraps the gifts, a huge smile on his face as each is revealed. As you said, none of it is expensive or fancy really, but Harry can tell the thought you put into each gift.

“Thank you baby, it’s all perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “There’s actually one more thing,” you add shyly, shifting as you kneel in bed next to him.

He picks up on your nervous pheromones and takes one of your hands in his to soothe you, unsure of where this is going.

“So I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the last couple of weeks and uhm, I’m ready. To be knotted.”

Harry stares at you for a long moment, and part of you fears that he’ll reject you, but that fear quickly vanishes when he says, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve never felt so safe and cared for by someone. I’ve never wanted to literally be tied to another person. Not until I met you, alpha.”

He takes a deep, steadying breath, the air filling with pheromones indicating just how much he wants that.

“My omega, I will always make sure you’re safe, no matter what’s happening. If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop, promise?”

“I promise,” you reply as you lean in to press a deep kiss to his lips.

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, and you can tell Harry is afraid to push too far. So you take control, running your tongue along the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth. When your tongues meet, a shift occurs, and Harry once again becomes the dominant alpha you’re used to in bed.

His hands come up, one around your waist and the other cupping the back of your neck to keep you close to him. After a few minutes of deep, passionate kisses he breaks away to kiss and nip along your throat. When he gets to the scent gland just under your ear he begins to scent you thoroughly, licking and leaving small bites. You’re boneless in his arms and you know your underwear is ruined with the slick pooling there.

It's a rush to get out of your clothes, until every article from both of your bodies is scattered on the floor. Your omega instincts kick in and you follow them, moving until you’re on your belly and then lifting your backside into the perfect presenting position.

“Not like that, baby,” Harry says as he gently manhandles you so you’re on your back looking up at him. “I want to see you this time. Plus, it will be more comfortable when we’re tied together.”

The reminder that you'll be literally stuck together has a wave of nerves and a wave of desire running through you simultaneously. It’s a scary thought, being stuck to someone in such an intimate way, but you know it will feel good and only bring you and Harry closer emotionally.

He presses kisses down your body until he reaches your core, literally growling at how wet you are, at how sweet your slick smells. After the first couple tentative licks he begins to eat you out in earnest. This is something you’ve come to expect in the weeks since your relationship with Harry became physical. He rarely goes straight to penetrative sex, preferring to bring you to at least one orgasm first. Even though today is his birthday, it’s no different than usual. Sometimes you think it’s more for him than for you if his enthusiasm is anything to go by.

It doesn’t take long before he brings you to climax, your breathy moans and cries of his name mixing with obscene sounds of Harry eating you out. Once you’ve fully ridden every wave of pleasure he begins to move back up your body. You lazily make out before Harry pulls away to reach into the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a condom and you watch with lust-hazed eyes as he rolls it along his length.

He's hovering over you again, silently checking one last time if you’re ready. You smile and nod, leaning up for a gentle, chaste kiss. It’s as he presses his lip to yours again that you feel his tip at your entrance. Your jaw goes slack as he slowly pushes fully inside of you until his hips are flush to yours. What happens next is a beautiful, passionate blur, as he brings you to climax once more. He scents you some more as you catch your breath, and then you cry out in pleasure as he begins thrusting again.

It's as you reach your third orgasm of the morning that you feel his hips starts to stutter. You wrap your legs around him, giving a silent signal that you still want this, still desire him to knot you.

When his knot finally locks in place you gasp, the feeling unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. There’s definitely a twinge of pain, your body not ever having something so large inside. But at the same time there’s a warmth, both from the cum filling the condom and from the knot itself. Harry’s cries of pleasure ring in your ears and he’s kissing you before moving to your scent gland once again, frantically scenting you, ensuring that everyone will know you’re claimed by an alpha.

Once his inner alpha is satisfied that his omega smells only of him he calms down.

“Are you alright my love?” he asks.

“I’m good,” you reply. “Feels so good.”

“I could say the same. Being locked in you feels like heaven. Jesus, you darling, are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

You blush at the compliments, your omega preening at all the attention from your alpha. He continues to scent and kiss you for the twenty minutes you’re tied together. It only takes a couple minutes for you to get used to the feeling, and then there’s an emptiness when he finally pulls out.

“C’mon baby, let’s get cleaned up,” he says before carrying you into the bathroom, needing to give into his instincts to care for you in any way he can.

Harry continues to dote on you the rest of the morning and scents you again before you both leave to get lunch with his friends prior to soundcheck and the show. Sarah gives a knowing look when she sees the two of you, but you can’t even feel embarrassed that the other alpha picked up on how you spent the morning. Especially not when she gives you a hug and says, “I’m so happy for the two of you.”

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly and suddenly Madi Diaz is on stage opening the show. You’re in Harry’s dressing room as he finishes getting ready, and though you’re dressed in a light skirt and tank top, you still feel a bit warm. You make a joke about how hot they keep a venue that’s literally in the desert, and Harry just gives you a questioning look.

Before he can ask what you mean, he’s being called away to grab his mic pack and head to the stage. You give him one more kiss for luck before going to find your spot in the VIP section.

Harry enters the stage a little while later, holding onto his birthday balloon. Even though you’d just been with him as he got dressed, you’re practically salivating at how good he looks. Even though you try to prevent it, there’s definitely slick leaking into your panties, so much so that you take a quick bathroom break to clean up. You’re also sweating, leading you to wonder how everyone else around you looks completely cool when it’s practically a thousand degrees.

When the show ends you all meet backstage for a drink to celebrate Harry’s birthday and the end of the US leg of tour. You’re tucked into Harry’s side, fighting off the desire to pull him away from the crowd so he can knot you again. You shake your head slightly, shocked at how getting knotted one time has made you insatiable.

You look up and notice Sarah watching you closely before she leans over and whispers something to Mitch. He then looks at you as well, as though studying you and you begin to feel somewhat self-conscious causing you to tuck further into Harry’s embrace.

After everyone is done wishing Harry a happy birthday Sarah makes her way over, effectively pulling you both off to the side.

“Y/N, are you feeling alright?” she asks.

“Yea, I’m fine, why?” you reply, lying slightly. Because the truth is you feel a bit off, but you have no clue what is going on. You begin to feel cornered by the alpha, and even though you’re normally good friends with her, you don’t want her around you right now. The only alpha you want is yours. And you want him alone.

“Are you sure? Because you seem like you could be slipping into heat. I know it’s none of my business but I’m just worried.”

Just like that all the air escapes from your lungs. The room starts spinning and anxiety builds in your chest. Because you realize she’s right. Your doctor said your mini-heat would hit in February, and here it is, February first. Being knotted that morning probably helped trigger it as well.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

Harry is still by your side, similarly shocked that he didn’t pick up on the signs either.

The heat haze starts to settle over you, as though you noticing what it is has the process speeding up. “Harry, I need to go,” you say, fear lacing your voice. You know that being an omega in heat is extremely vulnerable and here you are in a venue surrounded by people.

“I know,” he says, his voice strained. You’re not sure if he’s more affected by desire or a need to protect his omega, but you can tell he’s under immense stress at the moment. He calls his assistant Jada over to make arrangements to get you home safely.

You’re vaguely aware of conversation happening around you, but the fuzziness in your brain makes it hard to understand what they’re saying. You turn your head, blindly seeking out Harry’s delicious scent. It's an unconscious decision to start scenting him right there in front of his friends, and you don’t realize you’re nipping at his scent gland until he’s gently pulling you away.

You start to whine, trying to move closer again, fighting against him until he says “Omega, listen to me.” Immediately your eyes meet his, and you’re snapped out of the daze. Part of you knows that he just used his alpha voice and while normally you’d hate that, your omega preens. This isn’t just any alpha, this is your alpha, and you know he’s using his voice to help you, to protect you.

Once your eyes are locked into his and he knows he has your attention, Harry says, “Jada and Elin are going to take you back to the house. There will be a couple beta security guards there as well. They’ll all take care of you and make sure you’re safe.”

You nod, showing that you understand. But then tears well in your eyes and Harry gently asks, “Omega, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer, you don’t want to say it, because it feels silly and childish. But you can’t keep anything from him, not when he looks so worried and you whisper, “I’m scared, Alpha.”

“Oh my darling,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug once again. “I know it’s scary. It’s been a long time since you’ve experienced this huh?”

“Yea. I just, I don’t really remember the couple of heats I had, I just remember feeling untethered. I didn’t like it. I felt so alone.”

“Baby, I promise you won’t be alone. The others will be there to check on you, and our room smells of our scents which will soothe you. And I’ll be there the second it’s done. It’ll only be a day, maybe two tops. Over before you know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, and he leans down to place one quick kiss to your lips. He doesn’t dare do more, not wanting to set off a wave of your heat while you’re still in a public space. Plus, he’s holding on to the last bit of control he has, finding it harder to contain his alpha as your scent continues to grow sweeter.

With one final hug you say goodbye and are led to the car that’s waiting. You’re in the backseat with the window down, the cold air keeping you from feeling like you’re burning from the inside out. Back at the house Elin leads you to the master bedroom, where you’ll end up spending the next 27 hours.

The mini heat isn’t awful. It’s painful at moments, your desperation for a knot overwhelming you. Shortly after arriving at the house Jada brings a box of supplies. In your aroused state you don’t question where they got a new knotting dildo at midnight, but you’re grateful for whoever found it as it helps get you through.

Elin and Jada check in on you at regular intervals, making sure you’ve eaten and seeing if there’s anything you need. You assure them that you’re fine every time, but the truth is you still feel alone. It’s a loneliness that’s deep in your bones, your heat making you desperate for the touch of another person, and not even in a sexual way. You just want to be held.

When Elin knocks on the door at 3 am, 27 hours after getting to the house, she finds you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. That alone alerts her to the fact that the heat is over. She texts Harry immediately, and 15 minutes later he’s running into the room.

The second he walks in, you break, tears streaming as sobs wrack your body. He wraps you in his arms and begins to scent you, not needing to ask what is wrong. He understands. You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. Your inner omega has been on edge without its alpha there. You are simply overwhelmed by the experience.

Harry sits with you, holding you tight and murmuring sweet things until your sobs taper off into quiet sniffles.

“You okay?” He eventually asks.

“I’m okay,” you reply truthfully. It had been cathartic to cry, to let it all out.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just hold me please,” you answer.

“Of course baby. Always.”

Harry keeps his promise, continuing to hold you close as you get some rest. In the morning, he gets breakfast delivered to the house so he only has to leave bed for a moment to grab it from the front porch. He then draws a bath and helps gently wash every inch of your skin.

Since you have the house rented for a couple more days you decide to build a fresh nest. You kick Harry out, needing to do this by yourself. You do, however, run out to the living room more than once so he can scent certain items. Once it’s complete you call for Harry and he joins you immediately.

“This is beautiful,” he says as soon as he sees the nest you’ve constructed.

“Really?” You ask, always a little unsure of yourself when you try to follow your omega instincts.

“Really. It’s perfect,” he reassures you.

“Lay with me?” You ask.

“I’d love nothing more,” he replies and follows you into the center of the bed nest. You curl yourself into his side and relax. It’s no surprise when you begin to purr, Harry rumbling in contentment next to you.

In that moment something becomes clear to you. This is your alpha. Your future is with him. You won’t bring it up just yet, but you know you want him to join you for your next heat, and whatever may come after.

————————————————————————

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Next chapter should be the end of the main story but I’m sure I’ll do some extras after that!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary

[syncogon]

[QZGS TL] Butterfly Blue's Reflections, Ten Years Later

T/N: On April 28, 2024, for the tenth anniversary of the completion of The King's Avatar novel, author Butterfly Blue wrote the following Weibo post:

Translation below:

2014 April 28, to 2024 April 28. Ten years. 😲

It’s a bit of a blur, but yes, it’s been ten years. ⁉️

My editor told me in advance that I should write something to discuss my reflections, but I kept refusing on the grounds that I didn’t have any reflections to share. 🥺🙏 After going back and forth for a while, I suddenly thought, "not having any reflections" was itself something that I could share with everyone. 🤔

How come I don’t have any reflections? Because it’s been ten years. 😞

Ever since that day ten years ago, when I wrote that final period. The story of the world of Glory ended there. 🤗 And ever since that day, my thoughts and feelings on this story, this world, and all these different characters have gradually grown fewer and fewer. 😞👉👈

In 2022, as part of a Qidian event, I wrote another prequel chapter. I followed my ideas and thought patterns from my past prequel chapters to write this new installment. But as I wrote it, it was choppy, it was awkward, it was forced. 😫 The forty-plus-year-old me, regretfully, can no longer write well this story that brought me so much joy and delight during my thirties. 😞😞 This is probably the power of time. In the end, I have no way of maintaining my mood and state from ten years ago. 😞👉👈 When I think about this, I suddenly realize that “time” should be the true protagonist of this reflection, rather than anything else I could share about this work. 🥹 

With that, I immediately become even more saddened. Ten years have passed, I’m no longer young, my hair is gone, my beard occasionally sprouts some white strands, and I can no longer sleep right after eating due to acid reflux…🧎

And The King’s Avatar, after ten years, is still there. There are still people who see it, there are still people who like it. Through the passage of time, this is, to me, the greatest source of comfort. 🫡

Thank you to The King’s Avatar. Thank you to the past, present, and future readers who pick up this work. Thank you to the many staff of all roles who have kept busy for this work. 🙇

I wish that time could stand still. I absolutely do not look forward to another ten years passing by, but that day will inevitably come. 👋

Then, I will wish everyone happy travels on their life journey! I hope this work will be the flowers that decorate your happy journey. 🫂🫂

https://m.weibo.cn/detail/5028124733474872

[icedroppedinparasolcider]

Momoi Airi is a Trans Woman

This is headcanon at the end of the day and there's nothing wrong with disagreeing, but the way she's written regarding her sense of identity as an idol, the choice of phrasing they use when she talks about herself in reference to others (namely Shizuku), and the connections her visual motifs provide to concepts and other characters tied to or commonly seen as trans just makes it incredibly hard for me to view her otherwise.

A lot of what I have to say is very personal to me; I'm a trans woman myself, and Airi's writing and experiences connect with me and my own transition journey in a way I haven't really seen anywhere else in media (I'm not a very prolific media consumer). So it's entirely possible a lot of this is just me projecting onto a character I care a lot about. But while I've adored Airi before this revelation, I didn't reach the level of attachment I have for her until the realisation of just how well she's written through the lens of a trans girl. Specifically one who's, for the most part, entirely socially transitioned but keeping the fact she is trans secret.

When Airi was little, she was, as she herself describes, very boyish. She'd get into physical fights with boys around the neighbourhood or at school, she'd come home most days covered in dirt and mud from playing with her majority boy friend group of the time. She was intensely defensive of her little sister, most of her fights being with possibly bigger-than-her boys because they were mean to her sister. It formed a reputation for Airi, a reputation that followed her as she began to deviate from these patterns and pivot her interests and activities hard and fast thanks to starting to watch idols on TV. She was enamoured with them, would rewatch recordings of their performances and interviews over and over so she could emulate it and be more like them. She'd stop getting into fights, stop playing with her rougher friends; everything started changing dramatically thanks to her being introduced to a new "type" of woman: an idol. Something Airi wanted to become, and was willing to change everything about her to be.

These changes weren't socially easy for her, though, with backlash coming from these old friends and classmates because of how girly she was trying to become. The idea of being a tomboy was something Airi started to consider a bad thing, a gross thing. During her Colourful Festival side-story, To You Who Yearns To Be an Idol, amidst a conversation with her younger self Airi calls the little girl a tomboy, something that makes the younger Airi immediately deflate and shy away from the conversation. It upset her to be called that, especially by an idol, something she wants to become. Which leads to the younger Airi talking about how she's been treated by her peers for changing the way she dresses and not playing the same way she used to, for changing the way she talks, with her being talked to like she's doing something horrible and wrong for simply chasing a dream of who she wants to be. And in this conversation, Airi says a particular line that changed everything for me:

This is said in response to Little Airi's repeating of what the boys in her class call her as she wears cuter, girly clothes. That she's some big, mean monster who shouldn't wear things like that, who could never become an idol. Effectively telling her that she could never be a girl because of the way she used to behave. She started as someone rough, someone harsh and dirty, that's not something she should—not something she could—change. Something we see in present day that she's largely internalised through her struggles with what it means to be an idol, her struggles with calling herself an idol.

For Airi, being an Idol and being a Girl have become synonymous with each other. Her ability to be an idol, to draw that attention, have a smile that sparkles on stage and in front of the camera, spread hope and joy to other people; this part of her identity has grown beyond her job, it's who she is as an individual. Being Momoi Airi, the second year Miyajo student, is inseparable from Momoi Airi, the ex-QT member and now member of MORE MORE JUMP! And if she can't be the image of an idol that exists in her head, that she's always viewed idols to be, that Haruka and Shizuku manage to embody, that Minori is becoming, then can Airi even really call herself as much of a person, of a woman, as them?

Airi's been in this constant uphill battle where she believes she doesn't sparkle as much as the other idols around her, so she puts more effort into learning how to make herself sparkle, but manages to convince herself that because she struggles with this, she's less of an idol than those very peers. It's in large part what Ice Drop is about, Airi's difficulty finding satisfaction with her work as an idol because it doesn't shape up to her own expectations and beliefs of what an idol "should be", because it doesn't match what she sees other idols she looks up to, like Shizuku, doing. Something also portrayed during Airi's conversation with Shizuku in Chasing the Radiance Beyond the Blue Sky, where she outright tells Shizuku that because she doesn't have the same physical appeal she has to fight harder and use different strategies to get any attention as an idol. And if Shizuku is the "perfect idol", and Airi will never be able to achieve that, can she even call herself an idol?

If she can't call herself an idol, does she even deserve to call herself a girl? Or are the harsh words of her grade school classmates right about whether she should be wearing the cutesy clothes?

A large part of Airi's struggle with this, why it's even a spiral in the first place, ties into her nature as a Solid Heart student as well as why I see so much of myself and my transfemme journey in Airi's story. It doesn't matter how many people tell you that you're enough and that you've done what you set out to do, not if every thought in your head is telling you they're wrong. According to everyone I know, I pass really well as a girl. My voice is naturally feminine, even without masking it very hard, I've basically never been misgendered since growing my hair out by strangers looking at me, I've even been told by close friends that they'll forget I'm trans because I'm just "one of the girls" to so many of them. And I appreciate all of it, so much; I'm very lucky to have had such a smooth social transition. But none of that changes who I see in the mirror, who I hear when I talk, what I feel when I wake up in the morning forced to acknowledge my body. I'll never be a "real girl", not until I fix these things, and it's entirely possible that it's impossible to truly get rid of this feeling.

That's what Airi feels regarding her identity as an idol. Everyone in the world could tell her how good an idol she is, how much hope she spread as Happy Everyday, how beautiful and bright her smile is. But that will never replace or fully mask the doubt in the back of her head about whether she's really an idol, because nothing that she used to do aligns with what she's always seen idols to be, so much of what she does today is so different from the reality of her dreams. She's not that idol, so is she even an idol at all? I'm not that girl, so am I even a girl at all? Obviously I am, and obviously she is, but it's a feeling of doubt that never goes away.

Airi needs to constantly be an idol, or she's not an idol at all. And, at least to me, this has come to mean to Airi that if she's not an idol, she's not a girl. Because all of the work she put into being cute and girly was to be an idol. If she can't accomplish that, does she even deserve to be a girl at all? Or is she just a fraud wearing a mask trying to make people laugh on TV?

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Fighting, use of blood bending, trapped

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 10 - Fraud of the Warriors

Katara and I stood in the meeting room, in the middle introducing a big map of the world. The guards were explaining the plan in two months, confirming it with Katara and I. The seriousness broke when Momo stood on the map, knocking over the pieces which resemble the fire nation and earth kingdom. “Or we can send in Momo to do some damage” Katara jokes, laughing “Cause the…sorry” She said guilty. I nudged her softly “I thought it was funny” I whispered making her smile. The general lifts up the pieces and continues on with his plan. “All we need is the Earth King's seal to execute the plan” he tosses the scroll on the slab, earth bending it to our direction. “We’ll get these scrolls to him right away” Katara grabbed the scroll as we both got up. We both said our thanks and turned to go the opposite direction towards the king. Katara must have realized how much I have looked around in Ba Sing Se. “You have been quite cautious here” Katara sweatdropped. I sighed breathily, “They took Aku away, I have no idea where he is” I said sadly. Katara pats my back “I'm sure we’ll find Aku, what does he look like?” She questions. “It's a Buffalo Yak, he is the reason I made it here in Ba Sing Se without a boat”

“We’ll be sure to find him” Katara reassures me as I smile “Thank you.”

“What do you say Y/N? Cup of tea before we give this scroll to the king” Katara asked. “Are you sure we have time for that?” I warily said, gripping the edge of my hood to make sure it doesn't fall off and expose my cover. Katara brushed it off laughing. “It's just a cup of tea, then we’ll give this scroll to the king in no time” She grabbed my hand towards the tea shop, Momo cheering along. I laughed “Okay okay, just one cup of tea” I warned teasingly. I looked at the building in confusion “I swear I have never seen this tea house before” I looked around curiously “and it has a ton of people”. “That must be a good sign,” Katara said happily, which made me smile, moments like these really make me think she is Yue. We both walk in the building, two ladies bowing at us in greeting. “Table for three please” I said politely. Right as we’re about to walk to our table I heard a familiar voice. I lifted my head up to see Zuko, wearing the uniform and holding a tray. Ah…I guess they now own a tea shop. Katara grabbed my wrist. I looked at her confused till I realized how bad terms she had with Zuko. She dragged me out of the tea house in fear as I tried to catch up to her running. “Katara wai-” “We have to tell the king this” Katara said freaking out

“Hold on!” I pull her back “He can't hurt us, the guards will take him in. I me-” “We still need to tell the king!” She once again dragged me to the palace before I explained how I met him here. I sweatdropped but continued to follow Katara.

  ҉   ☾

We made it to the palace, in front of the throne which we ran to. “Thank goodness you're here Suki, Something terrible is going on” Katara said stopping in her tracks. I looked at the Kyoshi Warriors in suspicion, something is going on. “The fire nation has infiltrated the city, I just saw Prince Zuko and his uncle! We have to tell the earth king right away”

“Wait Katara…I don't have a good feeling about this” I whispered to her. “Oh don't worry, I'll be sure to let him know”. Katara's face immediately morphed into fear. By my assumption, that is not Suki. Momo immediately flew away as a girl from the left cartwheeled towards us, hitting Katara's pressure point. Katara fell over with her water pooling beside her, the girl attempted to get mine but I dodged quickly. I learnt from Yagoda where each pressure point is and the system of the human body. Since I wasn't allowed to use my waterbend for attacking I had to benefit from it by healing. She attempted again but I dodged all her attacks, pushing her back with my water bending. However, one girl who used blades and darts threw some at me, I dodged a few but more blades sent me back to the nearest pole, making my hood come off. I attempted to pull it out of my clothing and the pole but to no avail. “Didn't think the princess of the northern tribe would be here, surprises after surprises” The main girl said. “So Zuzu is in the city too? I think it's time for a family reunion” They hover over katara. Family reunion? Makes sense that this psycho is related to Zuko. I panic once they move closer to Katara, seeing the fear in her eyes. I can't lose another one close to me. I closed my eyes trying to think of ways to free Katara. The sheer panic of trying to use my bending made me do something…else. “What's going on?” One girl called out which made me open my eyes. I lifted my hands slightly which made them move. My eyes widened…blood bending. I harshly move my hands to the left making them hit the wall and wince. “Katara leave” I yell, managing to lift her up with blood bending  and moving her out the door. “Y/N! What about you?” She yelled in worry “I’ll figure it out!”. Katara managed to escape, holding her shoulder in discomfort. I made sure she left and turned to face the trio. “I guess we have a blood bender” the middle one smiled devilishly. I gulped in worry and felt chains on my wrist, preventing me from bending at all. “Hey!” I spat attempting to maneuver my way out of these chains but there was no use. The 2 girls moved me to an empty room. I attempted to move my leg to break the chains however the chains were too high up for me to break. I scream in irritation, how come I am never strong enough?

It's been hours till the door opened up, showing the earth kingdom guards. I was excited, thinking I was going to be saved however that was short lived by their faces. They were not here to save me… “Oh what do you want” I said annoyed. I got no response but them grabbing my wrists and moving me “Now why do you need to mo- Woah!” The guards pushed me down a cave. I felt the impact of the stony floor and winced, lifting myself up. “What's your problem?!” I yelled but my voice just echoed through the walls. I huff in annoyance and walk around thinking what I can do in this situation. While continuing to walk around, I saw a light. I lifted my head towards the light and saw the guards again, however there was an additional person which was now thrown in. I looked down to take a better look at the person, once he lifted his head up I realized who he was. “Zuko…” I glared at him and he confusedly glared up at me. What in the world is happening?

<- Back - Next ->

A/N: I realized that the warnings were NEVER UPDATED LMAO Anyways sorry for the small chapter but hey! Zuko is guaranteed for the next chapter! Make sure yall take care of yourself and have a nice day.

--

taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish@pbeckn26@jasminesacademia @kyo-kyo1

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 2

A slightly shorter chapter...much more to come! Any Viking/Norse words were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

The morning sun shown on her face, waking her slowly.  She was no longer being held and she begrudgingly opened her eyes to the bright light.  She sat up and looked around.  No one was sleeping next to her, the men and Bucky had gone back to their rowing tasks or milling about the ship, passing out food and water to the others.  She stretched her arms and legs then rubbed her face.  The other ships were still next to theirs, never missing a beat.

“Ah, you’re up,” Bucky said, walking over to her.  He held out some bread, some kind of meat jerky, berries and a canteen to her.  “I know it’s not exactly a royal feast, but it’s the best we’ve got for now.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled at him as she took the offering.  Bucky sat next to her as she chewed on the meat first.  

“Did you sleep well?” Bucky ventured a conversation with her.

“I did, thank you.  I’m sorry if I woke you,” Y/N said sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Bucky smirked.  He held up his metal arm.  “It’s a bit strange, I know.”

Y/N watched his arm as it shifted when he moved.  “Do you mind me asking–”

“How I got it?  How it was made? What happened to my arm?” he flashed a lopsided smile at her.  “I lost my arm in a battle ten years ago.  The healers melted a special metal from swords given to us by a friendly country in Alkebulan called Wakanda.  They used it and some magic to create this,” he wiggled his metal fingers and flicked the arm with his flesh fingers, “and adhered it to my body.”

“That all sounds very painful,” Y/N said, looking concerned.

“It was,” Bucky said.  “But at least I have an arm back.  It still functions as a regular arm, but it’s nearly indestructible, stronger than my normal one. I could crush a man’s skull with just this,” he held his hand out to her.  She looked at it with a mix of wonder and horror.  The black plates and the gold inner workings glittered in the sunlight.  

“It is strangely beautiful,” Y/N said wistfully.  

“I think I’ll keep it,” he joked, nudging her shoulder.  Y/N snorted at him as she drank from the canteen.

The routine stayed about the same each day of the journey until the last day.  Y/N woke up suddenly that morning, her body wide awake.  Her eyes searched the horizon as she felt a strange pull coming from the direction they were heading.  

“What?  What is it?” Bucky stirred as she shot up out of the furs.  Y/N walked down the length of the boat, avoiding the oars and the men’s elbows and shoulders as she reached the other side.  She held onto the side of the bow with one hand, the other reaching out into thin air.  “What are you doing?” Bucky grunted as he followed her to the front.  He watched the green light glow from her hand, and as it grew, glowing green veins of light seeped through the ocean towards whatever was beyond the hazy horizon.

“Land ho!” one of the men called.

Y/N felt hot tears trail down her face as she laughed.  She could feel the power, the magic, flowing to her from the land beyond.  “You said you had magic at home,” she whispered as the veins seemed to rise up and lick around her fingers.

Bucky watched on in awe.  “I-I did.”

“I can feel it,” Y/N breathed as she closed her palm, the green disappearing.  “It’s…ancient.”  She turned to Bucky as a wide smile spread across her face.  “It feels like home.”

Bucky took her hands into his and raised them to his mouth, kissing each finger softly.  “Welcome home Drottning.”

The people met them at the shore, singing what sounded like victorious tunes and chants, helping to pull the ships in and unload the spoils.   Once she was escorted off the boat the people seemed to hush as they watched her walk along the rocky beach.  Bucky brought her over to a grassy knoll that had stones facing up in a circle, rising tall above them pointing towards the sky.  Markings were carved into the stones, and in the middle of the area was a ring of small white rocks.  Y/N could feel the energy around her, her fingertips glowing green and occasional sparkles falling from them and into the earth, making the grass sway with her as she walked.  

Standing near the circle was an older woman.  Her long white and gray hair was braided and styled intricately, a headdress made of bent twigs, feathers and an animal skull atop her head.  She wore a long, white linen dress that was layered with a sandy colored pelt held together with more bones and fabric.  She held a long staff in her hand.  Her face was covered in a kind of white makeup across her eyes and red splotches on her forehead and her chin.  Y/N had never seen anything like it before and ogled the woman as they approached.

“Modir,” Bucky greeted her, bowing his head and then making a motion with his hands like he was splashing his face and head with water.  The woman did the same back to him before walking up to him and holding his face in her hands for a moment.

“You bring us peace…and a gift,” the woman stated, looking towards Y/N.

“I believe so,” he smiled at her.  He then walked behind Y/N, pushing her forward towards the woman.  “Y/N, this is my mother, Winnifred Brynhilde Barnes.  She is our Volve, or seer.”

Y/N did as Bucky had and bowed her head, mimicking the motion with her hands.  “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Winnifred studied her for a moment before cupping Y/N’s face in her hands.  Y/N stood still, recognizing the same piercing blue eyes of her son.

“Yes…” Winnifred’s hands shook as her eyes glazed over as she stared at Y/N.  “She is one of the lost daughters of Freya.”  Bucky and many of the people surrounding them gasped audibly.  “My child,” Winnifred’s eyes cleared as she gazed at Y/N.  “Your power is from Freya, the goddess of love, beauty, fertility, even war, death, wealth, and magic,” she smiled warmly at her.  “Through the years of war we lost those with your power to the English, during one of the many raids I suspect.  But you have survived, even into the royal family.  Your power could never grow there,” she explained, seeing the question in Y/N’s face, “because it was lost to them long ago.  You freed Thor who told us about the English witch, and James recognized the gift and brought you home to us.”  Y/N didn’t know why, but she felt a strong emotional reaction to Winnifred’s words.  “Come to the circle, my child, and claim your home.”  She led Y/N over to the circle of white rocks.  Winnifred stopped at the edge of the circle and gestured for Y/N to enter it.

Y/N stepped into the circle and stood in the middle of it.  She looked at Winnifred for instruction.  “Show us,” Winnifred encouraged her.  Y/N took a deep breath, unsure of what to do.  She glanced at Bucky standing behind his mother watching her.  He gave her his signature smirk and a nod of his head.  Y/N lifted her hands and looked down at them.  She flattened her fingers and let the power run through her.  It glowed in her palms and then did the same veiny pattern as it seemed to leak from her fingertips into the ground below.  Once the power hit the soil it pulsed like a heartbeat, and small purple flowers began springing up from the area around her feet.  Y/N’s eyes widened as she watched it.  She could feel the earth, feel the blades of grass, feel the trees swaying in the wind, could even hear the wind speaking to her in little whispers of delight.  She laughed and bent down and dug her fingers into the dirt.  A deep vibrating hum erupted from the ground beneath them.  It was winter in Danmark and yet as her power seeped into the earth the snow started melting around them, the leaves started sprouting on the trees and flowers popped up early.  The grass was greener and fuller, the wind warmer, and there was a groaning sound as rocks moved into their rightful places from where they’d fallen, the large stones around the circle that were starting to crumble suddenly being made whole again.  

The power even seeped into the surrounding people. The men who had been hurt in battle suddenly healed quickly and the ailments others had been suffering from for years lessened.  Bucky’s arm whirred as the power met him, the scarring along the area where it had been attached to his flesh mending better than the healers had been able to, and the heaviness of the arm seemed to lessen, the strain on his back disappearing and making him feel lighter than he had in years.  Winnifred’s aged back straightened right in front of him.  He watched in astonishment at the true power his new wife held.

Y/N was crying hard now as she felt the pulses of euphoria through her entire body.  Her parents had tried to dim her light, to squash her power, make her feel small and unwanted, like a tool, and yet she was so much more.  The acceptance from Bucky’s people, from him, from this new land, had her feeling like she was floating as she healed not just the earth and its people, but herself.

She pulled her fingers out of the earth and clutched her hands to her chest, the wind dying down as the power receded back into her hands.  She sobbed heavily at the pure freedom she felt.  Bucky walked towards her and kneeled in front of her.  He pulled her hands away and cleaned off her fingers with his coat, then did as he had done on the ship and brought them each to his mouth, kissing them fondly.  His eyes were teary as he smiled at her.  “My Drottning, my Asynja.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look.  “My queen, my goddess,” he whispered.

Winnifred kneeled before her.  “Come, Drottning, we must bring you to the hof.”

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?

Word count: 2K

A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??

Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.

“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”

Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.

Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.

“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”

“We?” you repeat.

Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 

Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  

Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.

“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”

You’re not even sure what you’re asking.

“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”

You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.

You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.

“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”

“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”

You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.

“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”

“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”

Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 

“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”

You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”

You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.

“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”

You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?

“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.

“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”

You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 

You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?

Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”

You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  

When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  

The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  

When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.

The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  

“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.

Without you.

Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  

“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.

He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”

Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”

His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”

You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”

Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  

“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”

You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”

His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”

The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 

“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”

“What will you do when they leave you?”

The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”

You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”

“And then some,” he answers.  

You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  

“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”

In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”

“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  

“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”

Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 

“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”

You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”

“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.

“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”

Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  

“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”

“All in good time,” Gale answers.  

“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 

You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.

You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”

This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

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In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[aimeedaisies]

Aimee’s 2023 royal family engagement count: The final results!

Disclaimer; everyone’s counts will be different, people have different rules to their method of counting the Court Circular. It isn’t a definitive count and is done just for fun 💗

The court circular doesn’t record any work behind the scenes, only public engagements, official meetings and luncheons/dinners. It’s more a gauge of their public facing roles.

👑 Princess Anne 👑

Once again Princess Anne tops the chart as the hardest working royal, completing 467 engagements.

She has done 393 engagements in the UK.

She travelled to 10 different countries this year and did 74 engagements there. 🇨🇾🇪🇪🇳🇿🇦🇺🇫🇷🇨🇦🇩🇪🇯🇪🇮🇳🇬🇮

Dubbed by some as the unofficial Queen of Scots she did 62 in Scotland.

King Charles III

In the first year of his reign King Charles did a grand total of 463 engagements

In the UK he did 386 engagements.

He travelled to 5 different countries where he completed 76 engagements and did 3 full royal tours in Germany, France and Kenya. He also hosted a state visit for South Korea at Buckingham Palace. 🇩🇪🇷🇴🇫🇷🇰🇪🇦🇪

What is also worth mentioning is that he has Red Boxes that he has to go through every single day, except Christmas Day and Easter Sunday as well as a lot of work behind the scenes.

Prince Edward, The Duke of Edinburgh

This year, on his 59th birthday, Prince Edward became the Duke of Edinburgh, taking the title of his father. With this he increased his work with the Duke of Edinburgh award and travelling to visit international sections of the award. Prince Edward also visited a lot of theatre related organisations and youth centres and charities.

He completed 294 this year and visited 13 countries on solo tours and with his wife. 🇹🇨🇧🇸🇺🇸🇨🇦🇩🇪🇨🇿🇮🇪🇹🇷🇧🇭🇸🇬🇳🇿🇦🇺🇮🇩

Sophie, The Duchess of Edinburgh

In 2023 Sophie carried on her hard work in areas like women’s rights in disadvantaged areas, avoidable blindness, hygiene and agriculture.

She completed 226 this year in the UK and the commonwealth and visited 10 countries on solo tours and with her husband. 🇳🇱🇹🇨🇧🇸🇮🇶🇮🇹🇪🇹🇨🇦🇨🇴🇨🇭

Prince Richard, The Duke of Gloucester

The Duke of Gloucester has this year completed 208 engagements in the UK.

He continued his long lasting work in heritage, architecture, the St John’s Ambulance and military organisations.

Hopefully next year we will see him do some overseas engagements. 🕯️

Queen Camilla

In the year of her Coronation, Queen Camilla carried out 198 engagements.

She visited Germany, France and Kenya where she did 42 engagements whilst on official tours. 🇩🇪🇫🇷🇰🇪

She focused a lot of her engagements this year on sectors close to her heart like women’s & children’s charities, osteoporosis care and animal welfare.

Prince William, The Prince of Wales

The Prince of Wales this year carried out engagements in the UK and the Commonwealth in areas like mental health, homelessness and conservation. In 2023 he did 183 engagements.

Prince William travelled to 4 countries where he did 32 engagements related to Earthshot in USA and Singapore, visiting Ukrainian troops in Poland, attending the Jordanian royal wedding in June and finally travelling to Kuwait to give his condolences to to The Emir of Kuwait following the death of The Emir Nawaf Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah. 🇵🇱🇺🇸🇯🇴🇸🇬🇰🇼

Catherine, The Princess of Wales

The Princess of Wales carried out 134 engagements throughout 2023. Catherine continued her work in her Early Years foundation and childhood development.

She visited France for two, one off engagements for the rugby World Cup in France and to Jordan for Crown Prince Hussein and Princess Rajwa’s wedding in June. 🇫🇷🇯🇴

Hopefully we will see her and the Prince of Wales go on a couple of overseas tours next year now that their children are older.

Birgitte, The Duchess of Gloucester

The Duchess of Gloucester has this year completed 127 engagements in the UK. She continued her long lasting work in sports, the arts (Opera, Ballet, Acting etc…) and accompanying her husband to official engagements.

Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence

Although not an official working royal, Sir Tim often attends as a great support to his wife’s engagements as well as having his own non-royal patronages and interests. It was recently announced that he would become chair of the Science Museum group and is the patron of a number of heritage organisations.

He accompanied his wife to a total of 92, represented her 4 times and accompanied her to 27 engagements abroad in 5 countries. 🇪🇪🇳🇿🇦🇺🇫🇷🇬🇮

(Operation working royal Tim) 👏

Prince Edward, The Duke of Kent.

Despite being 88, Prince Edward, the late Queens cousin, has carried out 75 engagements even with his ailing mobility.

He continued his valued hard work with organisations like the RNLI, the Royal Scots Guards and the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, which he recently passed on the presidency to the Princess Royal.

Princess Alexandra of Kent

Although she is practically retired now, we have seen Princess Alexandra attend four official engagements in 2023. Firstly she attended a Reception for British East and South-East Asian Communities, secondly to present medals to members of The Royal Lancers, thirdly she attended the Coronation of King Charles and Queen Camilla and lastly she visited the Royal Chelsea Flower Show.

This year the British Royal Family completed a grand total of 2476 in the UK and 29 different countries across the world.

🇨🇾🇪🇪🇳🇿🇦🇺🇫🇷🇨🇦🇩🇪🇯🇪🇮🇳🇬🇮🇷🇴🇰🇪🇵🇱🇺🇸🇯🇴🇸🇬🇹🇨🇧🇸🇨🇿🇹🇷🇧🇭🇸🇬🇮🇩🇳🇱🇮🇶🇮🇹🇪🇹🇨🇴🇨🇭🇰🇼

See below for engagements from the past decade and the types of engagements carried out in 2023

[lover-of-mine]

Buddie Countdown to Season 7:

119 days.

[wearecrowley]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Fishing Interlude

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[zivvis]

guy who crossed the country just to buy a necklace instantly gets roasted by the guy he bought the necklace for

genuinely tho this line got me so good. like yes I thought it would be that easy but I'm so glad it isn't! feels like gore wouldn't even be gore if his romance started with or hinged on a piece of jewelry

[definitelynotrhi]

omg did you hear?? the waa is using new business ads!!

[nebuladreamz]

Birthday time :D

I doodled this on the 18th, figured it’d be nice to save for today.

This past year has been the most wildest year of my life. To everyone I’ve come to known, old and new.

You mean the fucking world to me. Here’s for an even better rest of our year, together.

@f0rtunesfuture @amberluvsbugs @garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @kandidandi @just-a-drawing-bean @cacaocheri @bunmuffin @sleepykas @xitsensunmoon @justaduckarts @skizabaa @starsketchez @fernzwing @smoljeanius @ilsole @tuzesdays @magicclownjuice @ohno-the-sun

(If I haven’t tagged you there is a Very(tm) high chance I am either unsure if you’d want to be tagged or too much of a coward to do it anyways but that does not mean you’d mean less <3)