#this was supposed to just be a color test but i got carried away

[clingyduofan]

as if i had to make a move, but you could tell i didn’t wanna

[bittervalentine]

god looking at her creations

[viscerism]

the kiddo!! ☆

[ohma-qq]

hehehe I like giving them nice clothes :)

THEY ALL MATCHING but ofc got to give them their respected color.

originally was supposed to just be a sketch but got carried away and started rendering every thing BUT IM NOT COMPLAINING they actually turn out pretty nice! had my friends rate them got a 9/10 :D

also i did more wasn't to sure if I really liked it and if i should post it or not but eh might as well

red filter >:)

tested myself to see how i can limit myself with one shade of color

[kissitbttr]

Hi lovely! Your cake tasting fic was literally immaculate. I was just thinking about how r and miguel met, and how cute it would be to see a blurb where he gets all flustered when he sees her for the first time? You are amazing! Xoxo

sending u lots and lots of kisses MWAH MWAH thank u baby😚😚😚 anyHOWWWW i’m so glad someone asked for this! I’ve been waiting for it TEEHEE! now i did mention a little bit on the cake testing fic how they first met, sooo i might just have to expand from there yuhyuh!

this turned out a bit onger than i expected lol but I hope you'd enjoy it regardless!

miguel masterlist

—

miguel meeting his wife for the first time

-

“the laboratory is 80% damaged, miguel. we need to get it fixed or else we can no longer continue our work.”

miguel sighs deeply, pinching his eyebrows with his index finger and thumb. the ungodly amount of research papers stacked neatly in the corner of his working desk, along with bunch of scrunched papers on top.

“jessica, no ahora”

she rolls her eyes at his stubbornness, arms crossed over her chest. his eyes glued on the monitor, framed glasses perched on the bridge of his thick nose bone

“you need a break.”

“I don’t” he disagrees. if anything, he needs to put on more hours of work. “i can’t leave before everything is done. we’ll get it fixed next week.”

“that’s what you said last week, miguel” jessica points out, eyes scanning around the room. “look at this mess! the HQ haven’t got fixed in months! if you want this building to be safely secured and leave no casualties in the future, you have to do what i say.”

again, miguel disagrees. shaking his head without looking up. “and i said, no.”

but jessica refuses to be told like that, shrugging her shoulders like it’s nothing. “well too bad, because i already found someone who’s willing to work on it and you’re meeting them”

that seems to catch his attention, his pen dropping off between his finger as his head whips towards jessica’s direction.

“you—what?!”

“i’m not going to be responsible for many injured people in the future. not when we have too much enemies coming to bite our asses so i suggest you get down from there and come here”

miguel has a temper. a very short one, and it’s not easy to control it when he’s surrounded by people who’s trying to tell him what to do. it’s supposed to be the other way around.

but miguel has no energy to fight back, so instead of telling her to fuck off, he just nods his head.

“alright fine” an upset mutter falls from his lips before he makes his way down the stairs. hands on his hips. “where is he?”

jessica scoffs, “why do you always assume everyone is a he?” she chuckles lightly at miguel’s quirk eyebrow. “you can come in now, ms. y/l/n”

the sound of his office door clicks after that, and miguel seems to be less than impressed because he has no energy in him to talk to people other than himself,

yet, his jaw drops instantly soon as he sees the person who walks through it,

a woman—a very gorgeous one—who looks like to be in her mid twenties makes an entrance as her heels click against the marble floor, carrying what seems to be a tablet and folders. she’s dressed in a grey long tight fitting dress that falls down to her ankles with a cropped beige colored cardigan completing the whole look as an outer, leaving only the left shoulder exposed. a smile appears on her face as she fixes the frame of her black reading glasses.

miguel has never seen a more beautiful woman than the one he’s staring at right now,

“ms. y/l/n, this is miguel o’hara. the head of Alchemax and leader of Spider Society.” jessica smirks at the way miguel is gaping right now, as he makes no intention in hiding it away.

guess, her 70% of her plan is slowly working.

“ugh! come on, jessica you’ve known me long enough to stop saying my last name” she giggles, “mr. o’hara. my name is y/n. it is very nice to meet you. jessica had told me many things about you. i am so impressed with everything you had done”

‘fuck, even her voice is pretty’ he thinks

he regains his composure, clearing his throat before taking off his glasses. “thank you, y/n. you and jessica are close?”

with a nod, she responds, “we go way back. haven’t been off each other’s arms for a long time. hard to keep me away from this woman”

so jessica had been hiding her away from him? that’s rude.

“oh hush. always with the sweet talk” jessica waves her off with a smile. “miguel, y/n has plans on remodeling the hq for us. i’ve told her about what needs to be done and so forth. she has already inspected the lab, cafetería, training rooms. this smart woman right here came with conclusions in just five minutes.”

a blush creeping into y/n’s cheeks, shyly tucking a loose hair behind her ear which makes miguel’s heart warms at the sight,

“i’ve seen her work and i wouldn’t just bring anyone when it comes to our matter. she’s the perfect person for this. now since i have so many things to catch up on, i hope it’s okay for me to leave you two and have her explain it all—“

“yes” miguel replies a bit too quickly, causing the two women to raise their eyebrows. this makes him slightly bit embarrassed at how eager he might have come off. “i mean-yeah, of course. it’s not like i was doing anything. have a bit of a time off.”

“i though you said—“

“that’s enough jessica. thank you” he nods at her, shooting her a tight smile. “i would love to hear it.”

a giddiness blooms in his chest when y/n gives him a toothy grin. and it may become his favorite thing to look at,

“alright then. i’ll see you later. bye, sweetheart” jessica waves at her friend before walking out of miguel’s office and shutting the door behind her,

now it’s just them,

y/n’s gaze averts back to his tall figure. she had heard stories about miguel o’hara. jessica loves to spill teas about her partner and had showed pictures of him when y/n was curious on how he look like. he is indeed handsome.

but now, looking at him in person? fuck, even the greek gods are no match to him

beautiful bronze skinned, broad shoulders, high cheekbones with sharp jawlines. she glances a bit at his toned chest then down to his torso for a bit. abs rock hard enough to be seen through the working shirt he’s wearing. this man built like he contains zero body fat.

however, his mesmerizing red eyes are what got her hooked.

“it’s very nice of you to make the time for this, mr. o’hara. i know you are a very busy man and i hate to be the one who’s preventing you from your work.”

miguel’s head shakes, giving her a small genuine smile. “no apologies necessary. and please, call me miguel”

“okay then, miguel” she nods, returning his smile. “may i begin showing you what i’ve been working on?”

miguel’s arm extends towards a large wooden table, allowing her to walk first. “by all means” he folds his arms behind his back, following her from behind.

he’s very much struggling not to look at her ass while she moves,

“okay, so” she lays her things flat on the table, getting to work quickly. “i’ve planned a pre-design for your laboratory, given that the lab is one that needs extra precautions and highly detailed instructions, i’ve figured i should get that one done first. and here” she unlocks her tablet before tapping one app, showing the minimum design. “there are important keys that needs to be highlighted. i need exact measurements of how many people will be coming in and out of your lab, objects you’re thinking of storing, etc. because it will determine the amount of space i’ll be working on”

miguel doesn’t know jack shit about what she’s talking about but fuck, it sounds incredibly sexy to his ears,

“jessica had explained to me before that there will be less than fifteen people working in there. i would advise to create a fingerprint for entry. and it will require more space, more equipment and materials for me and my team to be able to carry on with our tasks. but i need you to not worry, miguel. i’ve done the trials and errors to limit the damage that might occur with the calculations.” she pushes her tablet for him to see clearly, colorful scribbles of geometry with shapes and patterns,

not only that, but she has a few mockups too. giving him a small vision on how the area would look like once it’s done.

miguel’s eyebrows raise, moving a bit closer to where she stands. “christ. this is amazing. you did that in…?”

“a week” she finishes with a smile, nails tapping against the table. watching how his eyes amazed at her small simple work “some would take more than that but, i take my work seriously, i don’t like postponing.”

his eyes move upwards to look at her, impressed by the details and efforts she had done with it. one thing about miguel, is that he is very much attracted to people who are putting their careers above anything,

and she has ticked that box,

“indeed” he lets out a breathe, nodding. “does that mean you don’t have a lot of free time?”

she thinks for a while. “not much definitely. but it’s not like i’m missing out on anything. what do people do nowadays? partying and gossiping? i rather not.”

he chuckles in amusement, “understandable. i thought that you might be into those kind of stuff.”

“and what gave you the assumption?”

he raises his shoulders. “you look young. young people like to have fun.”

“and how old do you think i am?” she asks with arms crossed,

he pinches his eyebrows. “28?”

she hums with a small laugh. “i’m 26”

miguel’a eyes widen slightly, “makes me older than you, then”

“how old are you?”

“32”

“really?” she asks in disbelief. “i thought older.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. around 40ish maybe.”

“that’s quite offensive, love” he fakes a gasp, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watches her scramble through more papers,

her heart skips a beat at the nickname, though she doesn’t think much of it. “it’s a compliment. the older the better, i’d say”

miguel smiles at that, walking around the table so now he stands across from her. “what did you and jessica talk about?”

“hm?”

“about me” he confirms. “you said that the two of you had talking about me.”

“oh, well” she begins, standing up straight to look into his eyes and miguel swears his knees almost give up. “she told me how much she admires you. your intelligence, bravery. your work ethic. told me all about the good things you had done for the people—“

“i don’t know about that”

“which” she cuts him off. “i am so, undeniably impressed by. keeping the universe intact while trying not to lose your fucking mind is hard, i could tell. I don’t know how you do it. makes me admire you too”

he stares at her as if he’s searching for a trace of doubt or a lie on her face. when he finds none, his heart softens. never in his life had someone come up to him and say how he’s doing a great job. let alone being impressed.

“thank you— i needed that actually” he laughs a bit. “wish people could say the same.”

“in my opinion, i don’t think you need to know about what other people think or say. you’re a grown man, correct?” she taps the eraser of her pencil on one of her sketchbook, eyeing any misguided lines she needs to work on. “if they don’t appreciate that, might as well kick their asses into a new universe”

a genuine chuckle escapes him, nodding in agreement. “i keep that in mind” he clears his throat, thinking about whether or not to make a small talk,

she notices the long pause between them before speaking up, “please, i hate awkward silence. you can talk to me, if you want to, miguel” her head shoots up at him with a playful tone,

“is architectural the only thing you’re doing?” he finds himself curious at her line of work,

“apart from this, i do a little bit of interior design. not too far off from architectural but not exactly the same either. i love anything that goes from there. putting ideas in my head before making it into a reality. also, it’s warming to see how i can help my clients dream come true” she responds simply, a small smile engraves on her pretty features.

“i also am studying in biochemistry at the moment. having a bit fun with molecular study.”

that perks his interest. “biochemistry?” he asks in a surprise tone. “i’m no expert in architectural but i don’t think it has anything to do with that.”

“it doesn’t” she confirms, picking a ruler before sketching out more details on the design. “i do it for fun.”

“for fun?” again, his question comes out in surprise, “why’s that?”

“i just think that learning shouldn’t be limited to one, you know? i like knowing about things. doing more things. the more knowledge, the more you have room to grow. plus, learning about molecules is interesting. might take it seriously on that one”

‘holy fuck, she’s perfect’

“that’s a— wow—“ he huffs out a heavy breath, can’t exactly tell if he’s impressed or intimidated. earning a soft giggle from her.

so, she’s gorgeous, brilliant and ambitious.

“how about you? jessica mentioned about you specializing in genetics. is that some sort of science thingy? because it sounds pretty fucking cool”

miguel scratches the back of his head. “something like that. i more focused on DNA’s, genetics pairings, human genome. all sorts of that. pretty boring if you ask me”

“doesn’t sound boring” she scoffs. “if anything, i find it very attractive when men are willing to learn about science. and i’m not just talking about the glasses, but the brains as well. you ticked every single quota, miguel”

she points at the working glasses he has on, causing his eyes to bug out at her boldness. y/n watches how he shyly takes it off, flustered at the compliment. she smirks as if she keeps trying to keep score on how many times she’s succeeded,

“okay, so” she continues, palms resting on the table before shifting the tablet. “let’s talk about your office. is there something you’re willing to change? because, not to be rude but your infrastructure is quite—shit. keep this up in two months then the apocalypse might have come early”

miguel bites back a laugh at her choice of words, scanning over his office walls, ceilings and monitors. “what do you suggest?”

she pauses, biting the end of her pencil before her eyes begin to do a 360 walkthrough. the sight is almost too perfect for miguel.

“we could do something about elevating the ceilings. make it a bit higher. and i see you have lesser—safety features? which could be quite concerning. we need to install biosafety cabinets, more detection systems and fire protection. I know you’re no ordinary man and could probably handle all the damage that might happen in the future but, it is my responsibility to ensure my client’s safety.”

miguel feels like a lovesick fool right now. and an asshole. he hadn't been listening a lot to what she had to say, merely focused on the way her pink glossed lips moving and how her fingers would occasionally fiddle against one another,

he imagines how her mouth would feel like, molding against his. there is no doubt in his mind that he would immediately be entranced with it.

"miguel? you listening?"

her sweet voice pulls him out of his train of thought, eyes blinking rapidly before meeting y/n's confused gaze,

"oh--y-yeah! yeah uhm.. that sounds great, would love that” his nervous chuckles makes her smile. “you’re really quick with it, aren’t you?”

“just doing my job, mr.o’hara” her tone is professional and prideful. “i’ll work quickly on the building designs, exploring more concepts for it and run a few test drives. however this might steal a bit of your time, from your job. weekly meetings are needed during this process. i’ll bring the mockups, sketches, models and everything. your inputs and feedbacks are required since this is your building after all. would that work?”

spending more time with her? oh, absolutely. he’d make it work,

he gives her a nod. “of course. i’ll clear my schedule off for it, just let me know when”

“excellent!” she exclaims with a bright smile, clapping her hands. “i will do my best to get it done as quickly as possible for you, miguel. i made a promise to jessica and i intend to keep that promise. it’s a long process but i need your full trust on me, okay? do you trust me?”

“yes” he answers without hesitation. “i trust you.”

“great! okay, that is all i have for you today. do you have any questions?”

miguel doesn’t like the idea of it ending here. not seeing her again until next week? that doesn’t feel right.

“you have a boyfriend?”

y/n halts at his question, looking at him with a confused yet amused expression. lip quirking in curiosity. “getting personal, aren’t we?”

“fuck, sorry, hermosa. you don’t have to answer that”

her heart skips a beat at the nickname. he just called her beautiful?

she eyes at how his gaze cast down the floor, head shaking. probably mentally kicking himself at the bold question he had thrown at her,

but she finds it adorable,

tilting her head to the side, she responds. “no. i don’t have a boyfriend. they are not quite up the standards i’m looking for.”

“yeah?” miguel takes a step forward, eyebrow raising. “and what are they?”

“my standards”

he finds it attractive at how she doesn’t like settling for less. she knows her worth without coming off too cocky nor bitchy about it,

“am i not allowed to know?”

“you can fuck around and find out” she smirks, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “i like to see them try.”

“you like seeing men on their knees begging for your time?”

she nods. “i live for it.”

he feels his cock growing hard at that,

“are you free, this friday?”

she bites down on her lower lip, watching how his biceps almost ripping his shirt off when he crossed his arms,

“i’m a busy woman, miguel”

“so am i” he responds quickly. “say dinner or a drink, anything. an hour or two tops, how about it?”

the way he’s looking at her should be illegal. he has this glint in his eyes. primal, confident. and it’s extremely charming in her own opinion,

she hates how it makes her heat rises,

with a hum, she slowly gather up her things, stacking the compiling files on the tablet. tucking them against her left breast.

“pick me up at 7. don’t be late. and i’m choosing where we should go. it was nice meeting you, mr. o’hara. i will see you then” with that she gives him a smile and a subtle wink before turning around to exit out of his office. leaving miguel completely speechless but enamored.

“fuck. i’m in love” he exhales a dreamy sigh

[simstationdance]

HAPPY BIRTHIVERSARY part 2 - Crop Tops & Punk Skirts

FUN FACT: The Sims 2 (2004) was released 3 days before the date upon which I was released from my mother's womb, therefore making me younger than The Sims 2 by 3 days as of September 14th 2024, but objectively older by 6 years as of September 17th 2024. As of this post, it is now my birthday. I can feel the hands of time slowly pulling me into the earth. Let's celebrate!

Today's Very Special Birthiversary post includes a set of stylish, vaguely Scene-inspired clothes for ladies: 24 recolors of the Urban Primitive skirt, separated from the Maxis outfit by Skell, and 5 Goth themed patterned recolors and 5 bright solid recolors of the 4t2 Bow Crop Top by MDPthatsme, with black tank top undershirts attached using textures by DeeDee. The clothes are for AF and TF, with Standalone and Repositoried options for TF, and they come with all morphs.

All meshes are included and special characters that would make the game load slower (specifically hyphens) have been removed from the filenames. Since the skirt is from the ever popular Maxis Match Repository Project, you probably have the mesh for the skirt lying around in your Downloads somewhere, so make sure you don't have duplicates.

For the skirts, there are two versions with tights - one of which is a mashup of fishnets by Io (colored red and black) and the Maxis black and white stockings, and the other is the Maxis shorts+fishnets texture because I liked it - and one version with bare legs, which can be used with @themeasureofasim's stockings accessory boxes. (actually only a handful work, see under the cut)

The crop tops and the skirts are 'meant' to be paired together but, being separates, you can mix and match with any other top or bottom you want.

CROP TOPS SWATCH | PUNK SKIRTS SWATCH

See under the cut for more (not very important) information.

DOWNLOAD (sfs)

Mesh credits: @mdpthatsme, Yuichen, @deedee-sims, Skell Texture and alpha credits: DeeDee, Ghanima Atreides, Creesims, Io, and Maxis Pattern credits: andrea_lauren, nerd-and-vine, ophelia_payne (@ Spoonflower), Blue Moth Fabrics, and VictoriaBat.

I have done my best to credit everyone who's resources I used. If I have misattributed or missed anybody, or if I have broken a rule in someone's TOU somewhere, please let me know.

Secondly, this is my first time 'retexturing' clothing instead of just recoloring it, as well as the first time I've done anything clothes-related in a very long time, so please be gentle to me with your criticisms and let me know if anything needs fixing <3

I wanted to recreate this outfit using only textures, because I know nothing about meshing and Milkshape scares me. As you can probably tell, I got a little carried away from the original goal.

I mashed a bunch of patterns, textures, and colors together on top of the crop top and skirt in an effort to learn 'advanced' recoloring of clothes in GIMP, as the most I've ever done before was just recoloring using pre-made PSDs. it was a bit of a disorganized disaster and there was quite a bit of blood, sweat, and tears. But the end results look... mostly nice, I think.

The arm warmers and fishnet gloves shown in the preview are a pair of accessories created by katsurinssims that I used to try to 'complete' the look, and are not included in this download.

Edit: im very sorry, I only tested a handful of the accessory stockings on the bare legs skirts, because I was very tired and there are A Lot of them, and assumed they would all work. But after a bit more testing, some of them have small gaps or poke through the boots, and the ones that are supposed to go over the crotch area end up looking like over the knee socks. Other than that, most of the knee high socks and tights work, but only on AF. I don't consider this a huge problem though, because a good amount of the tights work and the ones with gaps are barely noticeable.

There's a shoe swap that makes all of the boxes work with these skirts and I'll make another versIon of them with that mesh later.

[esmerulia-chantelle]

Yours

Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: Azul plans to confess his feelings for you but things keep getting in the way between him and you. What is he supposed to do?

Notes: Reader is a sophomore and is not Yuu. Azul calls you sweetheart.

A repost from my old blog @escha-evenstar. Edited.

Azul liked to think he was a man who had a plan for everything — always prepared and with a calm and confident facade. Yet he was put to the test when suddenly someone came along.

Someone who occupied his thoughts more often, making him ponder about things such as "What are you doing right now?" or "I wonder if you'd like the new menu I added."

Someone who tugged at his heartstrings whenever you'd greet him with a warm smile or engage in conversations with him, occasionally clinging on his arm.

Someone who changed something inside of Azul.

That someone was you.

He didn't expect to develop a close relationship with you. To have special moments with you. To still have you by his side despite who he was and what he did. Azul didn't plan for these things to happen. It just did.

Just like his first kiss you.

Azul's face flushed pink as he recalled that memory. Your body was pressed close against him as you held onto his arm. He turned his head around to look directly at you only to have his lips meet yours in an accidental kiss.

His slender fingers went to touch his lips as if to caress the area where you just kissed.

Your lips felt so soft and warm. I want to kiss you again.

Azul sighed. As much as he tried to lock away what was bubbling inside of him, it just couldn't be hidden away. He likes you.

No, scratch that.

He loves you. Deeply. Hopelessly. With all of his three hearts.

Azul decided he wouldn't be a coward anymore and hide away his true feelings. He was going to confess. He didn't want to stand by idly anymore while other guys took a chance for your affections. What if you accepted that person's feelings? The idea of you being in a romantic relationship with someone else did not settle right with Azul, the corner of his lips turning down into a frown and uneasiness pooling in his gut. He couldn't let that happen.

Azul wanted to be the man for you, and he was determined to make you his.

The following day after the night of your accidental first kiss, Azul would finally confess his feelings for you. For this, he already got it planned.

Invite Y/N for dinner. Azul would take you out on a private, romantic dinner at the Mostro Lounge. He would be extra particular with his appearance, wanting to look attractive and handsome for you. He would also enlist help from the eelmer twins in cooking and serving the two of you with your favorite dishes.

Start conversation. Azul would strike up a conversation with you. He would start with giving you compliments, all honest words of praise of course, before conversing with you like usual. This would keep the mood pleasant and enjoyable.

Showcase self. Azul wanted to be deserving of you. As the conversation would carry on, he would subtly showcase his strengths to prove that he was the right choice for you.

Set the mood. After finishing your meal, Azul would take you to one of your favorite sections inside his cafe. There was this open space with a huge glass wall that showed the vast waters full of underwater life that surrounded Octavinelle. The unique subaquatic plants that swayed with the current. Different species of fish swimming in various appearances and colors. You found it all serene and mesmerizing to look at. And when the moment is right..

Confess. Azul would confess and ask you to be his. And then hopefully you'll say yes.

Perfect plan, right? It would have been if only he could actually ask you out.

How could he invite you when you were always taken away from him? Every single time he'd approach you, something or someone else required your attention and you'd have to leave.

He couldn't ask you out while on your walk to school since a classmate of yours sought you out regarding your group's presentation for the day.

"Y/N, good morning. I'm sorry to bother you so early, but could I get some help for our presentation later today?"

During lunch break, Azul was waiting outside your classroom. When you were about to leave the room, someone else arrived looking for you.

"Y/N! I apologize. I understand you're supposed to have your lunch break but I'm afraid we have some urgent matters to attend to. I have already informed your Prefect, Yuu. Grim too, of course. We'll need the residents of Ramshackle Dorm for this matter. But not to worry though, since I am oh so gracious, I shall provide the three of you with hearty meals afterwards. How generous of me as Headmage, right?"

When your eyes met with his, Azul felt a certain longing. You gave him a quick apologetic smile and wave before following after the Headmage. Azul gave you a smile of his own but the moment you turned around, his facial expression showed how annoyed he actually was as he glared at the Headmage. He let out a deep sigh, trying to keep calm.

Not to worry. We share a class this afternoon so that means I'll have another opportunity. I'm definitely going to ask you out!

The first subject for the afternoon class was about to start but you still weren't around. Your usual seat beside him was feeling cold and empty.

Where were you? Did something happen?

Azul wondered since you were always punctual in class. Soon, the class professor came in bearing news.

"Mx. Y/N has been excused by the Headmage due to.."

What?!

Azul couldn't focus on what else the professor was saying. He was starting to get extremely vexed.

That Headmage, why I-

He didn't finish his thoughts as he heaved another sigh. He needed to calm down. No matter, he'll see you after school. There's still time. He's not going to miss it.

The last class with Professor Trein drawled on a bit longer than usual.

Why now of all times?

Azul sighed for the umpteenth time that day, his pen tapping impatiently on his desk. He glowered a bit as he waited for class to end. As soon as they were dismissed for the day, he immediately rushed over to your classroom. When he saw that most of the students from your class already left, Azul clicked his tongue in displeasure.

Did you leave already?

"Oh, hey Azul!" A bright, cheery voice spoke breaking Azul from his thoughts. "Are you looking for Y/N?"

It was Kalim who spoke.

"Hello, Kalim. And yes, I am looking for Y/N. Have you seen them?" Azul asked.

"Y/N was actually here a few minutes ago. They were waiting for you."

Upon hearing Kalim's words, Azul felt his heart race a bit faster.

"But then someone suddenly asked them out. They said they wanted to talk in private."

Wait. What?

"If you need them, they went around that way," Kalim said as he pointed to a direction where he saw them leave.

Azul thanked him and then briskly walked away to find you.

Upon arriving at the courtyard, he finally saw you. Your school uniform that accentuated your body and fitted you perfectly. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair fluttering with the soft breeze. And your eyes. Your beautiful (e/c) eyes that mirrored your pure heart and soul. You looked so ethereal in this moment that Azul thought of confessing right then and there.

Except there was another guy in the scene with you.

"I've always liked you Y/N! Will you go out me?" He said.

Azul felt something inside him snap.

Ever since this day started, Azul couldn't get ahold of your time and company. He just wanted to ask you out for dinner, was that so wrong? He sought you out all day long yet every damn single time someone took you away. Sevens, it's like they were testing him. Pushing him beyond his limits. And at this point, he was more than just frustrated. He was seething with resentment.

Azul has had enough and he's not letting anyone or anything get in his way.

With long, heavy strides, he made his way over to you.

You were confused. One minute, someone was confessing to you. The next, you were suddenly pulled away by a different person and lead somewhere else. You tried to keep up with his pace as you recalled what just happened.

"Oh. Uhm.. I'm flattered you think of me like that.. but I'm sorry. I can't return your feelings," you apologized to the student who just confessed to you. He opened his mouth to speak some more when someone cut in, immediately holding you by your wrist.

"I believe your conversation is now over. We're leaving." It was Azul who came in, eyes glaring at the guy coldly before he proceeded to drag you away.

And now here you were in this situation. He'd been pulling at you for quite some time now. You asked him what was going on, but he'd only squeeze your wrist. It wasn't enough to really hurt you but it was like he was wordlessly saying "just follow me".

Is Azul angry? Did something happen?

You continued to follow after him, deciding to not speak momentarily until you reached your destination. Along the way, a number of students looked at the two of you curiously. With the way his cold, blue eyes stared ahead, and his walk, although slower compared to earlier (upon your request), still brisk enough as he tugged at you to follow him. When someone you knew would try to come close to you, you'd feel Azul tighten his grip on you.

I guess he doesn't want any interruptions. He seems to be in a rush and in a really bad mood.

So you'd just wave at them with a nervous smile as the two of you continued walking.

Azul lead you to Octavinelle, specifically to the Mostro Lounge. You also noticed he took you to your favorite spot.

He finally stopped walking and let go of your wrist, turning around to look at you. He wasn't saying anything though; he's just staring at you. When you looked at his eyes, the coldness that was there earlier was gone. Instead, you saw all sorts of intense emotions reflecting in them.

"Azul..?" You called out his name softly. "Uhm.. if there's something bothering you.."

A lot actually bothered me today.

You took a single step towards him. "Or if there's anything you want to say.."

There's a lot really.

You moved even closer, hands raised to touch his glasses. "Or if you need me.."

I do need you.

You stopped just a few inches from him and completely removed his glasses, looking directly into his blue eyes. "I'm right here for you."

The both of you looked fixedly at each other. Staring with such intimacy, gaze filled with love and tenderness.

"Y/N," He called out your name in his smooth, charming voice as he caressed your cheek. It made your knees feel weak.

"Y-yes?" You stuttered.

He slowly drew your body towards him; an arm wrapped around your waist, your chest in contact with his, as Azul's other hand cradled your face to look up at him. You felt the familiar heat rise on your cheeks, tinting them with a pink blush. Your grip around his glasses loosened as it slipped away, landing on the floor with a soft clink. Your hands unconsciously settled on top of his chest because of the close proximity. The two of you stuck in a staring contest.

It was like time was frozen. Your gorgeous (e/c) eyes that shone like the stars, looking so nervous. The blush dusting your cheeks. Azul thought you looked so pretty and cute he couldn't help but chuckle, causing your face to flush a darker shade of red.

"Azul," you whined, pouting. You thought he was teasing you again.

But the way you moved your lips like that made Azul want to do something. He started leaning down closer to your face.

Every second like this made your heart thump in nervousness, feeling completely flustered.

"Sweetheart?" He said so softly, his special endearment for you tugging at your own heartstrings.

"..yes?" You whispered with shaky breaths.

Azul's face was so close with your own you could feel his breath on your lips. With his eyes half lidded and his voice low and hushed, he muttered his deepest, most genuine feelings for you. "I love you."

Before you knew it, his lips crashed onto yours in a heartfelt kiss. Your eyes flew shut, kissing him back and savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

The kiss felt sweet yet passionate at the same time. As if you were both conveying your ineffable, overflowing feelings for each other through the kiss.

Oh sevens, it feels so amazing!

Your hands gripped onto his uniform coat while Azul pulled you tighter to him, both not wanting to let go of the other. He kissed you with so much fervor you felt like you were going to melt from all the affection you were receiving.

A moment afterwards, you reluctantly pulled away and broke the kiss. The two of you stared at each other lovingly in silence. The only sounds to be heard were the heavy breathing and the loud beating of your heart.

"Please be mine."

You were rendered speechless. Azul's voice was laced with so much love and need for you. He wanted you. He desired you.

"I'll give you anything you want. I'll do anything for you. Anything! I love you so much, Y/N. So please.. stay with me and be mine."

You felt your eyes start to water from his words before tears escaped from the corners of your eye, dripping down on your face.

"Sweetheart?" Azul became worried.

Did I just make you cry? Did you perhaps not feel the same-

You held both sides of his face and pulled him down to you for another kiss. Azul was dazed for a second before he relaxed and eagerly kissed you back.

"I love you too, Azul. So much," you said in between kisses with tears of happiness pouring out of your eyes. "Of course I'll be yours."

When he finally heard you say those words he'd been yearning for, his eyes widened in shock. "You mean it?" He asked in disbelief to which you nodded at his question.

"You really do?!"

You giggled at his reaction. "Of course I do. You don't know how long I waited for you, Azul. And it makes me so happy to know you feel the same way." You stroked his cheek affectionately. "I'll always be yours, Azul," you said while beaming at him with your bright smile.

The corners of his mouth curved into a wide grin. Azul didn't like relying on luck but right now, he felt like the luckiest man in the entire Twisted Wonderland. Because someone like you loved him back with all of your heart. He gave you a sweet peck on the lips before saying, "And I'll forever be yours, Y/N."

Meanwhile..

Earlier after classes ended.

"Jamil! How are you? You're later than usual," said Kalim.

"It's fine. Professor Trein's discussion for today was just longer than usual," Jamil replied. "Anyways, I saw Azul walking out in a rush. He also actually left class the same way. Did something happen between him and Y/N?"

"It's not what did happen. More like, what will happen." Someone joined in on the conversation; it was Jade.

"What do you mean by that? Is Azul up to something?" Riddle asked suspiciously.

"Hahahaha! It's nothing like that, Goldfishie," a singsong voice piped in.

Riddle's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "I told you not to call me by that nickname, Floyd."

Floyd just laughed away and ignored his remark. "Hehe~ Are you guys curious what's gonna happen?" A teasing smile graced his face.

"I don't think Azul will be happy if we told them," Jade said as if disagreeing with his twin brother, although his eyes meant otherwise.

"Bah! They're gonna find out sooner or later anyways."

Jamil spoke, "I couldn't care less what Azul does but if it's related to Y/N... what is it then?"

Floyd's eyes crinkled as he grinned. "Azul is.."

"Is what? Is what?" Kalim asked eagerly.

"..going to confess to Y/N!!"

There was a pause, before the three shouted in unison.

"EEHHH?!?!"

Riddle, Jamil, and Kalim were shocked, processing what they just heard.

"Well, I know that Azul expends a great amount of effort on everything that he does. If he will do the same in making Y/N happy, then I have no objections. But if he ever hurts her," Riddle said in a stern voice. "It will be off with his head!!"

Jamil sighed. "Well.. I guess as long as he treats her right, I'll be okay with that."

Meanwhile, Kalim was still silent.

"Kalim, are you alright?" Jade asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally! It's just-" Kalim chuckled while rubbing the back of his head.

"I thought they were already dating."

Masterlist here!

If you enjoyed this: likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[crushribbons]

𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔭𝔦𝔡

summary: Leander Prewett holds the record for densest man alive.

cw: 5k words, fluff, pseudo-friends to lovers, SMUT (18+ ONLY), this one got away from me ngl☝️, fingering, penetrative sex, fem reader. based on requests from anon and @rypnami ty very much lovies! requests open :)

a/n: smart boy being dumb make brain go brrrrrr xx laney

She hadn’t expected the greenhouses to be so sweltering. The bright, open ceiling let sunlight pour down onto the students as they packed soil around their Mandrake seedlings, and sweat was pooling on more than one neck. Her robes felt heavier and heavier as the heat encroached. The mandrake screams had been enough to frazzle her until her temple throbbed and her hair stuck out like a fuzzy halo around her forehead. 

Despite all this, she was really trying to listen to Professor Garlick’s sweet voice instructing her to go test out the Chinese chomping cabbages in the adjacent greenhouse. She really and truly was, but her eyes had just followed the professor’s outstretched hand and made contact with the student assigned to help her. On the top of the landing stood a tall, red-haired Gryffindor (Do they all have red hair? she thought to herself), clicking his fingers absently at his side and looking somewhat bored. Butterflies gathered in a swarm in her stomach. Professor Garlick said his name, but it was lost in the rush of blood in her ears. The boy turned and caught sight of her, and she wondered if the stuffy greenhouse was getting to him, too, or if his face was always that flushed.

She tried hard not to run up the stairs, but still took them at a light jog. “Hello,” she said, trying to hide the breathlessness in her voice as she landed on the top step. It was her first week of lessons, for Merlin’s sake. This boy, attractive as he was, should not be rendering her so flustered. 

His fingers were still clicking even as he extended a hand towards her to shake. It seemed to take effort for him to still them before their hands slid together and she felt the smooth skin, slight callouses worked into them from past labor. Up close, she saw his long, regal nose (complete with a pink patch of sunburn across the bridge) and eyes the color of soft, melting chocolate swirled with honey. The comparison made her sweet tooth ache.

“Prewett, Leander Prewett,” he was saying, when she recovered herself enough to listen. Their hands were still interlocked for some reason. 

“Leander?” she asked dumbly. 

“That’s right.” He gave her a shy and sheepish grin. “My mother says it means ‘lion man’. Destined to be in ol’ Godric’s care since the day I was born, I suppose.” His voice was deep and even, the prim and polished accent floating gracefully past her ear.

Prewett led her through the maze of doors and staircases that took them to greenhouse 5, which housed the more volatile plants. The “toothy ones”, as Everett Clopton had informed her. A curious Venomous Tentacula reached for her shoulder as they passed it, but Leander gave a grunt and swatted it with the leather bag he carried. The toothy menace shrunk back into its pot dejectedly. 

“He looks hungry, poor thing,” she giggled as they continued down the line of potting tables. Her guide snorted.

“Well, he’s not getting Shoulder of Young Lady for lunch today.” 

She suppressed a smile at his words. Young lady. How very proper of him. She watched as he stopped before a potting table of some docile-looking cabbages. “Have a go,” he said. “They won’t start biting until they’ve been thrown, but act quickly. They can be…impatient.” He plucked a cabbage up from the table and handed it to her gingerly. Her tingling nerves proved a valuable asset, the adrenaline coursing through her since she’d lain eyes on Leander giving her the clarity she needed to chuck the cabbage square at the practice dummy in the corner of the greenhouse. They both stepped back when the cabbage ricocheted off the dummy a few meters toward them, and Leander’s hand slipped instinctively over her forearm, holding her there. 

She could hardly pay attention to the dummy’s demise. The cabbage bared its fangs and launched itself toward the mannequin, slamming it to the floor and ripping every bit of material it could off its surface, but all she could think about was the way Leander’s long fingers were wrapped around her arm, applying light pressure. He looked down at where they were joined and relinquished her with a start, seeming surprised by his own actions. A pang of disappointment nicked her.

“Can’t be too careful with those devils,” Leander said. He moved behind her and began fussing with an empty pot, his fingers clicking once again. She was certain she liked him. Screw it being only the first week of classes. 

Courage built up in her throat until she heard herself asking, “Prewett, would you like to take me to Hogsmeade this weekend? I have to go buy some new books and robes, and I’m afraid I’ll get horribly lost with no one to direct me.” She felt around and shoved the detailed map of Hogsmeade Professor Weasley had given her deeper into her bag.

Leander’s head snapped up, eyes the size of dinner plates. He stuttered for eleven seconds, brushing dirt off his hands and looking everywhere except at her. When he finally regained the ability to talk, he spluttered, “Er, um, I don’t get out much and…um, well, you’d probably do better with someone better-traveled…” Her brow furrowed as he continued his rambling. “I could introduce you to Natsai Onai, she’s a wonderful guide, or, uh–my friend Garreth might be helpful…” 

Professor Garlick stuck her head in the doorway and called to them from the top of the steps. “How did you fare with the cabbages, my little seedlings?” Leander may as well have disapparated with the speed he tore out of the greenhouse. 

He threw a hasty “It went very well, professor!” over his shoulder as he disappeared out into the Hogwarts grounds. The witch he had left behind looked with frustration after him. Professor Garlick seemed not to notice as she floated down the stairs, cooing at every plant she passed and rubbing the occasional leaf between her fingers lovingly. She patted the remaining Chomping Cabbages on the potting table.

“I’m so glad you were able to master the cabbage, dear,” she sighed. “They can be some of my more fickle kodomo, but I hear you’ve risen to meet every challenge Hogwarts has to offer!” 

Her student stammered something at her, thanked her for the day’s lecture, and ran from the classroom, hoping to catch Prewett by his collar and ask him why he’d been so reluctant to walk with her to the wizarding hamlet. She’d seen the way he looked at her when they shook hands, and the way his hand had slid so perfectly around her, protecting her on instinct; he was interested in her, at the very least. 

And she was growing more interested in him with every step she gained on him, the back of his freckled neck coming into view more and more as she trotted across the courtyard and followed him into the central hall. He walked toward the stairs, but veered off course to the left suddenly and instead ducked under them, throwing his bag down and scrubbing his hands over his face. She walked over to him, determination setting a line in her brow. 

“Prewett! What was that?!” she demanded. Leander jumped and backed away from her like she was the very plant they’d been wrangling moments ago. “I don’t bite!” Her voice softened when she saw the terrified expression on his face. She wondered if maybe she’d misread all of this from the beginning. He certainly didn’t look very interested in her. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better, that’s all.”

Leander swallowed thickly and looked side-to-side for an escape route. None that didn’t involve trampling the witch with crossed arms presented themselves. “Oh! Oh, well, I suppose I could assist you, then,” he said, his shoulders starting to relax as a smile spread across her face. “What’d you think I wanted? For you to take me to a lovely dinner and then stargazing?” Even as she said it, her smile faltered for a second, because she realized that was precisely what she wanted. Prewett picked up his bag and they began walking together towards the Great Hall. 

“No, nothing like that,” he mumbled back. His voice was strained and creaking. 

Two years.

Two entire fucking years, and it still hadn’t sunk into the great, thick, egg-headed skull of Leander Prewett that she wanted him to kiss her. Luckily, the lure of the mistletoe in the Gryffindor common room was widely renowned as being impossible to resist, although that may have just been a rumor started by a certain Weasley who grew extra, er, restless during the run-up to winter exams. 

Prewett’s face swam in and out of her vision, the firewhiskey-laden eggnog that kept the end-of-term Christmas festivities in full swing starting to take its hold on her brain. He was a lightweight, so after she’d snatched him by his shirt sleeve, muttering, “Let’s do the mistletoe, Prewett!”, the half a glass that he’d drunk was enough to have him following behind her with a bemused expression. 

“What, like, kiss under it?” Leander queried as she stopped under the bundle of berries that was hung over the fireplace. His feet tripped, and she looked down to see that he was snapping his fingers. As always. She had learned that he did it constantly, no matter the situation. Trying to decide what to eat for dinner, trying to remember a particular Arithmancy formula, and especially when he was trying to pretend that he didn’t have a gargantuan crush on her.

After their first trip to Hogsmeade in fifth year, she had figured it all out very quickly: Prewett, for all his brains and his oftentimes too-loud mouth, staunchly believed that she would never fall for him. It was laughable. She’d fallen for him almost immediately after they’d met, and even if she hadn’t, his behavior over the next couple years had condemned her forever. Over the summers, they sent letters back and forth, and when she had included a doodle of herself that Cressida had scrawled on some parchment, he had slid it into the clasp of his leather bag. It was nearly shredded to tatters, but still there. During school, they spent every free moment they had together, and she had even shown Leander her Room of Requirement. He’d adored the comfortable retreat she’d made for herself, although his irrational fear of house-elves (confessed to her after one-too-many butterbeers: “They just make me nervous!!”) made him steer far clear of sweet Deek. Still, it did not occur to him that she liked him.

His ignorance had started causing big problems for her in the middle of sixth year. One night, after an intense but friendly Quidditch match among a few of their classmates, Leander entered the nook of the library where she was studying. She looked up, ready to bemoan the existence of Ancient Runes with him, but the words died in her throat when she saw the thin shirt he had worn to the game, stuck to every inch of his torso with sweat. Her quill tumbled from her fingertips as she took in his slicked hair and pink cheeks. Imagining what his body looked like under his layers of stuffy jumpers and starched collars had not prepared her in the slightest for the real thing. 

“God…damn, Prewett,” she had whispered. “Where have you been hiding all that?” Her eyes were shamelessly raking over his lean frame. 

Leander scoffed and said, “I know, I really need a shower.”

Still, it did not occur to him that she liked him.

And then, when she fell in love with him, the situation became really dire. No matter how many times she told him, it always fell on deaf, dumb, and blind ears. She may as well have been telling the Chinese Chomping Cabbages that she loved them.

“Lee, I think you’re so wonderful. You’re smart and sweet and I–I really love you.”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you. I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon.”

His stubborn refusal to believe that she could actually care for someone like him drove her insane at the same time it drove her deeper in love with him. The clueless looks he gave her when she would tuck herself in close to him during Quidditch matches and his protestations that there had to be someone better that she could be spending time with during the weekends were so adorable, that if she hadn’t been so desperate for him to finally kiss her, she would have allowed them to continue.

“Ugh. Obviously to kiss me. And they say you’re smart for a Gryffindor.” Leander opened his mouth to object in indignation, but she giggled and tugged him by his tie to her mouth. 

“W-b–!” Leander got two small sounds out before their lips were pressed together, and the sound that escaped him then almost made her knees buckle. Half-yelp and half-growl, years of pent-up desire leaked out of him and flowed over her. She dropped his tie and raked her hands through his hair, kissing the absolute fuck out of this clueless, gangly bastard. Leander didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, so he placed them gently on her shoulders, as if she was made of glass. She was not.

She grabbed his hands and slid them down to her waist, where he eagerly grabbed her jumper and tugged it closer to him. Their chests bumped together, and she thought her heart might burst. His lips against hers felt like finally, like every minute wasted flirting with this boy was very much worth it.

When they broke apart, Leander stepped away from her, arms straight down at his side, and said in a monotone, “That was nice. See you when term starts back up.” He tried to flee up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, but she whipped out her wand, pointed it at his back, and growled “Accio!” He came skidding back across the floor to her, bumping a few party-goers but not causing much of a ruckus compared to the gobstones match that had just broken out between Garreth and Natty, two generous shots of firewhiskey in store for the loser. She caught him by the back of his collar. His neck was practically steaming.

“Are you really this dense?”

“Who, me?” he stammered.

“Yeah, you.”

“About what?”

She screamed in frustration and dropped his collar. “Leander, do you have feelings for me?” she asked, her voice muffled from burying her face in her hands. It was going to take a troll to beat this concept into her hapless darling.

“Of course!” Leander melted. He looked like he’d just been told he needed to defeat a Norwegian Ridgeback using only a stick. “You’re my favorite person in the entire world…I adore you!”

“As a friend, or as more?”

Red, from top to toe. “Well, I mean-uh…hmmm…”

“Because I love you, you dolt. Hopelessly. And I don’t know what it will take to convince you of this.”

He chewed his bottom lip in a very distracting way, and she considered giving up for the moment and resuming this discussion later in favor of dragging him back under the mistletoe. She watched as the rusty gears in his brain cranked and grinded against each other, clanking into place with one final THUD as his eyes widened.

“You want to…be with me.” She threw her hands in the air with a cry of mock joy and relief. "Blinder than Ominis Gaunt, you are!" The party was still raging around them, but no one seemed to be paying attention to their little tableau, save for a more-than-a-little tipsy Imelda Reyes, who passed by them and smirked, “Looks like Prewett’s finally gonna get laid and relax a little bit.”

The comment made Leander splutter in indignation, momentarily distracting him from the crisis happening in his mind. “Imelda! Shut–”

“Prewett,” growled the witch who was still waiting to hear what he had to say about her confession of undying love.

“Oh! Right! I…um…” Leander rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and gave three short, subtle snaps with the other. Finally, he sighed. “You’re just…you’re too perfect for me. You deserve so much–”

She cut him off by threading her fingers back into his hair and mumbling, “I deserve you,” before kissing him once more. The kiss was even better this time, Leander having recovered his wits enough to push at her lips with his tongue and slide it over hers. She groaned and began undoing his tie while also pushing him back up against the brick wall next to the fireplace. His hands stroked through her hair like she was a precious artifact that he couldn’t believe he was privileged enough to view. 

They broke apart to gasp for air and Leander hazily said, “Fuck! You’re, I’m sorry, you’re just so pretty!” Leander never swore. Even when he hit his toe on the same coffee table every morning in the common room. The obscenity falling from his proper lips made something inside her gut twist, and when she realized why he was apologizing, it twisted even tighter.

Leander Prewett was hard, very hard, for her. She had been shamelessly grinding against him as they kissed without even realizing it, and he was now sporting a very obvious erection. The brown trousers he was wearing did little to conceal it as well. When he saw her staring, agog, at his groin, he colored and tried to cover it with his hand. “It’s just an accident,” he stammered, but she swatted his hands away and kissed him sloppily.

“It better not be,” she whispered into his mouth, and he honest-to-Merlin whimpered as her hand slid down to replace his and palmed him over his pants. “It better be all for me.”

“It is, it is,” he promised, panting to maintain his composure while she stroked him up and down. They were tucked away, but not nearly enough for her liking. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, tugging him behind her as she wove through the crowd of people cheering for either Natty or Garreth (though, most cheers were for Natty; she had Garreth dead to rights and his sweaty forehead indicated that he knew he was about to stink for the rest of the night) and through the portrait door.

“Where are you two off to at such an hour?” clucked the Fat Lady indignantly. The noise from the party had jostled her awake when her portrait swung open, and she looked very disgruntled. They paid no mind to her, taking off down the hallway.

“Where are we off to?” Leander demanded, still trailing behind her as they rounded a corner and took a staircase down to the ground floor. 

She smirked to herself and paused for a moment to press him against yet another wall and snog him with abandon. Part of her worried vaguely that she was growing addicted to the little sounds he made every time their lips touched. He was getting bolder and bolder with each kiss, and this time he actually flipped her around so her back was to the wall. Then, he slid his hands up the front of her sweater and began softly kneading one of her breasts, a delighted sigh leaking into the kiss.

“Prewett,” she breathed, hardly able to believe that this was the same boy who insisted on covering his eyes until she had jumped into the Black Lake for a spring-time swim, so as not to see her in her bathing costume. His fingers were groping her greedily, lips trailing down from her mouth to her neck. “I’ve wanted this for so long, I…”

He hushed her gently, and she saw that his honey-brown eyes were fixed on her with an overwhelming fondness. “I can’t believe you want me,” he whispered, almost in reverence. “I’ve dreamed about you every night since we met. It just doesn’t seem real.” “And all those times I told you how fit you were? How much I loved you?” She couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows and poke him in his, fuck, his surprisingly taught stomach. An abdomen like that could prove very useful for the plans swirling in her head. “That was, what, just friends being friends?” Not for the first time that night and almost certainly not for the last, he blushed. “Well, I didn’t know! Why would anyone like you love someone like me?” He smiled and went in for another kiss, but his words, meant in jest though they were, made her hold up a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t say that, Lee. Please. You’re everything to me.”

He moaned, and leaned back into her. The kiss was much slower this time, sensual and sweet, and she felt adoration pouring from his mouth. It had all been worth it, all the time spent wondering if he’d ever see her the way she saw him. They were alone now and they were wrapped around each other and she never wanted it to end.

Laughter came floating down from the floor above them and they both looked up to where it came from. Word circulated fast at Hogwarts, especially when it involved two students devouring each other in a hallway after lights out. She bit her lip, but a perfect idea occurred to her quickly. She quirked an eyebrow at Leander.

“Remember that room I showed you in the Astronomy wing?”

When they tumbled through the Room of Requirement door, various articles of clothing hanging off them and hair very disheveled, she was almost mortified to see that all the potting tables and potions station that she had carefully arranged in the center of the marble floor had vanished, and a massive four-poster bed rested against the wall opposite the lower vivarium. Almost.

“Well, that’s convenient, hm?” Leander asked with a cheeky grin, but she was already pushing him down onto the bed and ripping off the white undershirt he still had on (his jumper had long since been lost in some corridor or other). His trousers came next, but as she set about unbuttoning them, he sat up on his elbows and called to her softly. She looked up.

“Have you ever…done this before?” he asked, gentleness in every word. The truth and a lie that could save her some embarrassment tussled in her head for a moment, but the truth won out. She knew Leander would never make her feel ashamed for anything, no matter how trivial. 

She shook her head. Her hair tumbled loose around her face, having been pulled out of its twist by his desperate fingers somewhere around the Potions classroom. “No, I…” Despite her effort to not feel awkward, the words caught in her throat, suddenly thick. “I wanted it to be with you.” She had never heard her own voice so small, so vulnerable. Chancing a glance up at Leander, she saw with surprise that he was beaming, eyes bright and glassy with love. 

His deep voice choked a little bit as well as he said, “Me too.”

If she hadn’t known his character before this, known what an utter gentleman he was to the core, she would have accused him of blatantly lying. When he slid two fingers into her and moved them with agonizing precision and grace in and out, ghosting the bundle of nerves that set her body ablaze, she threw her head back and cried, “How are you so amazing at this?!” 

Leander looked up, his lip caught between his teeth in concentration as he watched his fingers disappear inside her and reappear covered in her slick. “There are, er…” He cleared his throat and dug the fingers of his free hand into her thigh, heightening the sensation further. “There are certain books that one can–can read to…research…?” He trailed off and tried to distract her by moving himself between her spread legs to kiss her moans away. Merlin, this man was too delicious. 

All their clothing lay discarded on the ground next to the bed. She silently thanked the god that must have presided over the Room of Requirement for knowing implicitly that not only did she desire a bed, but silk sheets that wrapped around their bodies like cool water. Leander kept up his ministrations with his hand, alternating between fucking her and rubbing her clit in tight circles, until a sun burst behind her eyelids and she screamed his name until he clamped a hand over her mouth. 

“Fuck, come on, darling! Someone will hear us!” He was holding himself over her, panting from the pleasure of having made her come with spectacular enthusiasm, red hair falling into his eyes. Looking every inch like a well-versed practitioner of the sensual arts, instead of her friend who, just an hour ago, had thanked her politely for kissing him. She tried her hardest to form words, but he’d well and truly fucked them out of her. 

Her head lolled on her neck as she mumbled something like “Can’t hear anythin’ in here” from behind his hand. 

“Oh.” Leander withdrew his hand from her mouth, then cocked his head to one side, regarding her beneath him with curiosity. “So I could hear you scream my name like that all night, if I wanted to?” 

She had wanted her first time to be with Leander, not just because she was in love with him, but because she knew he would be soft with her. And, bless him, he really was trying to be. But the look on his face when he finally placed his hands under her backside, lifting her hips flush with his and slid into her for the first time, was unrestrained hedonism. His brows knit together and a strangled groan fought its way out of him. “Oh my–Shit! Shit, shit, shit, fuck, you feel too goddamn good,” he moaned. The pressure of his cock splitting her open for the first time stung at first, and she winced until her body had relaxed. But then it did, and it was indescribable.

“Oh, God, Lee,” she whispered, her hands flying to his back and raking her nails down the lean muscles there as he pushed his hips forward ever-so-gently. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked hurriedly. He stilled his hips and she grunted in frustration and smacked him. She emphatically reassured him that it did not hurt, and he took her words, for the first time in perhaps their entire friendship, at face value. 

Leander Prewett fucks like a god, she thought, lost in a dreamy haze, as he began railing her with so much determination that she couldn’t believe it really was Leander Prewett doing this to her. His cock was so long, she felt it brush up against her limit and gasped at the strange feeling. “What is it?” he demanded again. “Hurt–?” “It doesn’t hurt, baby, I swear!” she moaned. “Just keep going, God, just like that!”

Leander smirked, readjusting his arms to brace himself against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. “Bossy.” 

“Shut up!” “That’s my girl,” he muttered, and dipped down to kiss her. Their lips melded together and she thought she might swoon. Her fingers crawled down his back to his ass and she dug her fingers in the supple skin, pulling him more flush to her cunt so he was hitting a new angle and pulling a precious little “Ah!” from him as he slipped off one arm momentarily. He righted himself, using his right hand to apply pressure to her clit and making her back arch off the bed.

She did, in fact, scream his name as she came again, and the shit-eating grin on his face, which was now glowing with desire and confidence, made her heart soar. This boy really believed that she loved him; it was etched in every inch of him.

“Did you–d-did you finish?” he panted. She would have rolled her eyes if she hadn’t just experienced a small ego-death from the orgasm he gave her. 

“Of course I did, asshole.” He was still pounding relentlessly into her, chasing his own peak now like a bloodhound on a scent. 

“Good. F-fuck, darling, I…I love you so much,” he said, and a gasp escaped her despite herself. He’d actually said it. She knew what it meant for the real Leander, restrained and proper and nervous, to say that. He didn’t say things without thinking them through, sometimes for years. The fact that it had taken this sexed-up, seductive, and unchained Leander to come out and say it was really just a bonus. 

“Let go for me, Lee,” she murmured and planted a kiss on his forehead. He groaned and slammed into her two more times, cumming hard on the second and releasing inside her. Their foreheads pressed together and sweat mingled between them as they both panted down from their releases.

Suddenly, Leander flew back, eyes wild. “Oh, no, shit–a baby?!” He babbled incoherently for several seconds before she realized what he was on about and quieted him with a little laugh.

“No, Lee, it’s alright!” she assured, delighted to no end by the way she could see the responsibility of fatherhood settling onto his poor, sweet, stupid eighteen-year-old shoulders. “I have a charm on.” She pointed to the necklace with the amethyst stone set at the center that hung around her neck. His back drooped in relief and he rolled to the side.

“Thank goodness. I adore you, but I think we ought to wait a few more years to start a family,” he said matter-of-factly. A laugh bubbled up inside her. 

“Only a few years?” 

Leander blushed, but rolled over on one elbow to kiss a tantalizing trail from her jaw to her ear, and suddenly, he didn’t seem so funny anymore. “Well, with how much I’m planning to fuck you now that you’re mine, I’d really be surprised if it’s not sooner.” 

Oh.

She hid her growing arousal by nervously giggling, “‘Fuck me’? Leander Prewett, you used to be a gentleman.” He paid her no mind, moving down to her breasts to kiss and leave dark love bites down them.

“Mm, the woman I love brings out the worst behavior in me, it appears.”

masterlist

[far-from-official]

Happy Valentines Day!

Transcript:

"Isn't it beautiful out here?"

Scarab had dragged Prismo outside, far away from home. Many storage cubes full of different sampling equipment sat bunched in Prismo's floating blanket, test tubes and containers, stuff Prismo can't identify by just looking at it sat in those cubes.

"'Suppose so."

Prismo sounded a little bored, but he's seen quite a few of these fields in his very long lifetime. Seen one, you've seen them all. A huge, sprawling flower field. Prismo can't identify a single flower here, even if he tried. Which, to be fair, he won't try. The field was colorful, blindingly so. Yellows, reds, blues, golds. Blobs of every shade of green, sprouting out tall where the flowers hadn't invaded. It reached farther than Prismo's eyesight could render.

Scarab dragged him by the (covered) hand out into it. He mumbles different scientific proposals, things he wants to show to the rest of Wizard City.

Nerd stuff.

Prismo only hears the excited tone of his voice and focuses on that. He quickly fell in more toward Scarab's behavior than what he's actually talking about, finding all the little things he recognizes. Prismo leans on the blanket ball, nodding along like he's listening.

Scarab talks with his hands. Scarab trills and clicks. Scarab watches the ground so he doesn't step on too many flowers at a time.

Prismo gets so distracted that he hadn't realized that Scarab had dropped Prismo's hand, instead actively trying to tug the blanket out from under Prismo.

Prismo lets go of the blanket immediately, stammering out a small excuse.

"You spaced out, didn't you?" Scarab trilled, cutting through his needless excuse. He gently takes the blanket from him, and he spreads it out on the ground.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Prismo plays with his turban in his own habit, a nervous tic. Scarab moves each cube to be stacked up all nice and neat, taking out what he needs.

Prismo went to his side immediately, curling into him. His turban was pressed into his back with his legs slung over Scarab's hips, his hands occupying themselves by playing with Scarab's jutting spikes around his chest.

Scarab collected samples despite his limited range of movement, gentle with each flower as he plucked out their pedals and cut stems.

Prismo was instructed to hold things occasionally, pick flowers, go get dirt from the side of that hill over there. He carried them out without much thought, too distracted by watching Scarab at work.

He sat cross legged, stuffing flower petals in some book to dry. Gentle as he turns bleeding stems upside down over a vial and then corking it closed. He whips around excitedly to Prismo, showing him the vial.

"I've never seen this before, look!" He got up with a few creaks and pops in his knees and hips, walking quickly to Prismo despite the clicks coming from his knees. To Prismo, it looked like strawberry jam, as it was bright red with chunks of what looks like seeds. He was far more concerned with Scarab's joints popping like they did.

Scarab was rattling off all of his observations, how the liquid was thick and he thought it was because it was a carnivorous plant, evidenced by the dead flies in the bottom of the plant. Prismo nodded while leading him back over to the blanket, his hand wrapped around Scarab's waist. He knew that Scarab would start hurting soon, based on the sounds of protest his legs were making.

Scarab knew it too, little etches of pain seeping into his voice as he rambled. He walked to the blanket and that's as far as he made it, unable to lower himself down.

When Scarab was in pain, it made bending his knees extremely painful, but standing up straight hurt worse. Prismo looked so concerned, petting his waist in circles, nosing into his neck.

"Y-You can help by lowering me down, Prismo." Scarab knew what he was thinking, holding the backside of the clothed hand on his waist.

"Tell me if I hurt you." Prismo braced himself on Scarab's back, holding him firmly. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, Prismo lowered Scarab to the ground, adjusting the position or moved faster based on Scarab's groans and clicks. The flowers folded underneath Scarab, snapping with loud cracks, bleeding stems soaking the blanket.

Prismo moved out from under him, receiving an upset trill. "What's wrong?" He cupped his mask and Scarab pressed hard into it. "Can you..put your knee under my back and your arm under my head?" He quietly requested, reaching up and holding the hand on his mask.

Prismo whispered delicate affirmations, doing as Scarab said. A mellow chitter left him in pleasure, his pain relieved just a little bit. Prismo thumbed his chest, nosing back into his neck. A mumbled "thank you" left Scarab, who sighed with relief when Prismo's hand shifted to caress Scarab's sore knees.

"I'm sorry our outing was cut short…I didn't mean to get up that quickly." He whispered, shifting his hands to rest over his stomach.

"Mmm..we're still out, aren't we?" Prismo grinned, huffing a giggle against Scarab's cold chitin. "Don't apologize. You were excited, it was cute."

"Ah. Don't call me cute.." Scarab turned his head away, Prismo knows he's not upset. Under his mask, he was sure he was burning up.

"Hush. I like calling you it." He said. "I call it like I see it."

Though, Scarab chattered in pain when Prismo shifted to hold him closer, Prismo frowning and shushing him. "I-I'm sorry–"

Prismo shushed him louder. "Don't apologize. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind holding you through it."

"You don't have to, though."

"I want to. Gives me an excuse to cuddle."

"Like you need an excuse.”

[thebeinginyourwalls]

Valdemar drawing oh wow (the correct version is under the cut TW blood)

This was actually inspired by a Will Wood song and was actually supposed to be just a coloring test for other drawing (i got a wee bit carried away)

[skyeslittlecorner]

Second fic for WHB MC Shuffle~

This time our lucky one is Hannah from @sweeteaacakes. And I must admit up front- I got a little carried away with my imagination. Instead of writing the script you asked for, I did something a little crazier. That scene just captured my mind so much that I had to write it. I hope you dont mind, and you will like it too 🧡

As always, let me know what you think - if you want to make any changes (even write it from the beginning because after all I deviated a lot from your script), just write them and I will try my best to fix it!

Words: ~1200

WHB MC Shuffle | Hannah

The walls of the temple were so silent. Thump, thump, her aunt's shoe tapped against the ancient pottery as she impatiently waited for the priest to hurry up. Swish, swish, the girls on either side of Hannah ran their fingers over the beads of the rosary, their lips whispering inaudible words. The girl's hand, meanwhile, was tightening on the devil's symbol. Solomon's Key. Her aunt almost forcibly ripped it off her neck, so she put it in her pocket. At least this way it could warm her up her in this icy, distant place.

The ceremony, where they were supposed to take vows of chastity, was so small. Several girls in modest, covering dresses sat at the front, and behind them, family and invited friends gathered on long benches. Even though they wore white, the atmosphere seemed sepulchral. That's how Hannah felt too. Stuffy. Tightly. The enormity of the temple overwhelmed her, the eyes of her family burned a hole in her back. "You can manage. You have to manage." She repeated in her mind. "You must. Only half an hour and you will go to the ball, and after the ball you will go home. Only a few more hours until evening. You can handle."

She counted the minutes on her fingers, just as the surrounding girls counted their prayers. They fell silent only when the priest came. Hannah looked up. She had the impression that their delighted faces had nothing to do with their admiration for the God. The man with white hair looked holy, like an angel. As if he was the last test to see if they really wanted to stay pure. Hannah was too nervous to share their reasons, although she wasn't in a rush to vow either.

Just forty minutes, thirty-nine, thirty-eight…

The ceremony went smoothly. A priest with the appearance of a saint, he also had such a voice, calm, and yet distant.

“The most humble of you who, take a vow of chastity, you will be welcomed at the gates of heaven…”

He approached each one in turn. Personally blessed each one. Hannah glanced stealthily and was nearly dying from nerves; the key she was clutching cut through her skin. But she didn’t feel the blood. 

She didn't want to do it. Really didn't want to. But still, she felt more aware than before, repeating the words of her oath in her head, ready to fulfill her duty… Until she came face to face with the priest. For the first time, his gaze seemed alert, even terrifying. Not because he looked down on her. Because he was smiling.

“The most humble of you… Did I say?” He spread his arms. Hannah was dumbstruck. That's not what it should look like, that's not what the blessing should sound like. Did he want to embrace her? 

She understood even less when, in a gentle flash of light, a white scythe landed in his hands.

“You do not belong to them, descendant of Solomon.”

The words of the oath evaporated from her brain. A new priority has emerged. Survive. She felt like the key was burning in her hand. Defend yourself, run away, do whatever. 

He stopped looking like an angel. Pairs of powerful wings appeared behind him, covering the colorful stained-glass windows, shrouding her in shadow. He *was* an angel.

Frustration overwhelmed her. A wave of rage washed over her, almost bringing tears to her eyes. Why! Why did he destroy everything! She didn't endure all this just to die!

As he raised the scythe, there were screams all around. Hannah didn't have time to do anything. Before the gleaming blade fell, she saw the angel's pleased smile... and disgust as he, too, was enveloped in darkness.

She squeezed her eyes shut and covered herself with her hands. Pain. This was what she expected, but she felt nothing. Just the sound of metal hitting metal. The acrid stench of sulfur that filled her nostrils and lungs. Is that it? End? He killed her so quickly that she died without pain?

She opened one eyelid, then the other. There were screams all around again, and panicked footsteps of people leaving the temple. But before the eyes (that she slowly stopped trusting), she saw *something*. A two meters pile of muscle, covered in black fur, casting a shadow over herself and her surroundings. The smoke that surrounded him slowly dissipated. It accumulated right next to her hand. By the key, which she was still clutching with all her might.

“I see I arrived on time!” The demon roared with laughter. Even behind him, Hannah could see the massive, bloody scythe that stopped the angelic one.

“Tsk.”

She, paradoxically, felt safe. Behind the giant's back, behind the rock-solid muscles, it was one of the few times she felt like someone wanted her well. She clutched the key to her chest and glanced to the side, just to see the angel's expression. He wasn't angry, wasn't scared. His white brow furrowed in irritation.

“I shall not let you go.” He muttered under his breath and withdrew his scythe. Instead, he took a swing and brought it close to his chest. Blood gushed from the cut skin, falling on both of them. Hannah felt her own chest burn with pain. Meanwhile, the angel flew up as if nothing had happened.

The demon turned to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. The horned head tilted, dark eyes staring out from a frowning muzzle.

“I am Satan, King of Gehenna.” He placed a hairy paw on her chest. “And you are in grave trouble, Descendant of Solomon.”

"I know." She whispered, thinking about her family. Her aunt will kill her. Literally. With a stick and rag. Frustration and rage hit Hannah’s head like a hammer again. If it weren't for that stupid angel, it would all be over, and now...!

“I don't want… I can't go home!” She pushed demon in the chest. “You could have let me be killed, at least I would have had peace!”

“I like you more and more!” He burst out laughing again and wrapped his arms around her waist tighter. “I won't let you go home. The angels will track you down too quickly.”

“What should I do…” She asked herself more than him, but got an answer nonetheless.

"Come with me." He offered cheekily, raising her chin. “I can give you a new home if you help me save it. Take revenge on this angel and help us save hell. Then you will be safe… and no one else will dare to raise a hand against you.”

“I will.” Emotions spoke through her more than reason. What else did she have to lose? “I will help you, I swear.”

More images flashed through her head as if through a fog. A beautiful palace in European style. The exhaustion that set in when she felt safe. The demon's grip loosening as he handed her over to the arms of another cute boy with a horn. And the one and only memory she remembered clearly. A flash of white as the captivating demon turned into the captivating man, his charming smile when she huffed in irritation, and the warmth of his lips as he kissed her goodbye.

Her life was finally about to begin.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Book of Memories ~ Clavis, Jin, Sariel ~ Part 2

Collection story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

~~ Flashback continues ~~

The 3rd prince Clavis, with his golden eyes filled with curiosity, his refreshing and proud expression, and perfectly groomed appearance made Jin feel overwhelmed, but the latter smiled as if to brush it off.

Jin: So you're Clavis. Sorry, I'm the one that's supposed to introduce myself, but I got too caught up in my studies.

Clavis: Don't worry about it. I wanted to come see you.

Jin: Thanks. Though it's oddly stressful to suddenly have such an imposing younger brother.

Clavis: What do you mean by that?

Jin: I'm older and guys don't want to look uncool. Not only that, I just became a prince so it's even more stressful.

Clavis: Phew. You're pretty warm.

Jin: You're not so cold yourself.

Clavis: Ah, you're right. It's higher than Chevalier.

Jin: Chevalier's the 2nd prince, that prickly blond guy right?

Clavis: Yep. You better watch out around that guy, especially when he's reading. If you bother him, he'll cut you down.

Jin: A strong personality. Whoops, I've been speaking so casually when I should use some more respect since you're my senior. Should I call you "Clavis-senpai"?

Clavis: Clavis-senpai...!

His eyes brightened up, but he held his small hands out as if to contain himself.

Clavis: It sounds nice, but you can call me Clavis. No need to be so formal. We're brothers after all! Ah, but you can call me that in your head if you want.

Jin: Uh-huh...

Clavis: Back to my main point, you've haven't been at court for long. That's why I've prepared some useful information for your immediate use-

Jin: Oh, I think I hear Sariel calling me.

Clavis: Wait, I'm still talking-

Jin: Sorry, maybe next time. See ya, Clavis.

Clavis: Ah, wait Jin. Listen to me!

When he didn't hear footsteps and a voice following after him anymore, Jin stopped and leaned against a windowsill.

Jin: Still being someone else's problem... ... Give me a break...

The complaints and sighs were carried away by the wind.

Jin shook his head in annoyance and returned to his daily routine.

--

Jin: You're going to the party with me?

Clavis: If my older brother Jin's going, then I'm going too. The party we're going to is going to full of obstinate people. But don't you worry. They all love art so if you bring up a thing or two, they'll start bragging. If any of those guys say anything rude, I'll spike their drink with pepper!

Jin: Oh, how dependable. How about I hold onto that pepper in case you drop it?

Clavis: Okay!

--

Jin: This guy's got some gaudy sweets again. Some don't even look like sweets...

Clavis: I heard you got a perfect score on your test so we're having a tea party to celebrate!

Jin: Oh, is that why?

Clavis: Not at all! You got a good score because you studied really hard. But even if you got a bad score, I'd still reward you for your hard work. I recommend the strawberry cake. I'll brew some tea.

His small hand pointed at a plate with a cake of unique shape and color along with strawberries sticking out.

Jin raised his brows in suspicion before putting a fork full in his mouth.

Clavis: It's good, isn't it?

Jin: I-It's...unique.

Clavis: You mean it tastes like something no one else's made before? Well that's because I, a genius, made it myself. I've made sweets for my younger brothers, but never for an older brother.

Jin: ...

Clavis: There's still plenty more so eat as much as you want.

Jin: Yeah...thanks.

More eccentric than most, Clavis was an unrestrained and lively typhoon that visited Jin almost every day.

Although they appeared to be like close brothers, Jin had still not adjusted to his new environment and so had a hard time accepting the fact that he had siblings.

Even so, he didn't take Clavis' concern for him lightly.

Jin, who was more awkward than most, continued to pretend to not notice that he was suppressing his true feelings.

--

Sariel: It seems that Prince Clavis has taken a shine to you.

One afternoon in the library-

Jin was studying in the corner when Sariel silently approached him.

Jin: Fortunately? Don't know why though. But...if we're going to be brothers, than it's better than being treated poorly.

Sariel: You... No, nevermind.

Jin: It makes sense. I'm curious, but if there's not much to it, then I won't question it. Even so, being popular would be a pain. It's just been me and my mom for most of my life so I'm overwhelmed by my little brother's proactive approach. I haven't been greeted by my other brothers yet, so I guess that's just Clavis.

Sariel: Yes. He's the most proactive of the brothers, or rather, of the whole court.

Jin: Will you feel nostalgic about it someday?

Sariel: Fufu, I'm not a brother or anything like that so it's unlikely. Moreover, I currently have my hands full with traps so I'd rather not.

Jin: The guy in question's gonna cry if he heard you.

As Jin laughs, Sariel glances at the thick stack of books spread out on the table.

Sariel: You've been studying all morning, so why don't you take a break? They say that working to hard is harmful to the body.

Jin: Oh yeah...Guess I've been immersed in lessons all morning. I don't like studying, but it's the only thing keeping my mind occupied so I don't hate it.

Sariel: ... One more thing. If there's anything you want, please let me know.

Jin: Want? That's sudden.

Sariel: Since you've always lived as a commoner, this isn't a a pleasant place to live. Yet you never complain and study hard to acquire the skills needed. I believe it's not unreasonable to be selfish for once. I'll negotiate with the senior bureaucrats, okay?

Jin: ... I'll keep that in mind. Thanks.

However Jin never told Sariel what he wanted...

Then one day, a small incident occurred.

Next

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 6: Sympathy Empathy

“Good morning, everyone.”

It’s group therapy and the new perky voice almost startles me. I look up from the crossword Edward gave me to see a young blonde therapist carrying a handful of roses. When she reaches me her eyes light up.

“Oh! You must be Calico! My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I will be overseeing your group session today.”

“Hello. Um, why the roses?”

“This is to help tap into your empathy,” Dr. Quinzel explains and hands me a rose.

While the idea is inventive all I can think of is the deadly beauty behind the rose’s thorns. Ivy clearly loves this exercise since she's cradling her own rose and Nigma’s apparently trying to write a dozen flower riddles.

“So what are we supposed to do with them?” I ask as I twirl the rose.

Dr. Quinzel smiles brightly. “Give them to someone and tell them you care about them.”

Ivy rolls her eyes and ignores the instructions to continue babying her rose. However Edward jumps up right away and holds his rose up to me.

“Calico, may I offer my sincere apologies for your unfortunate predicament here. Personally I feel your young naive mind is far too valuable to be torn apart in this Hellhole.”

I take the rose and offer a weak smile. “Thanks, Ed. If it weren’t for you guys my mind might have turned to jello by now.”

“I won’t allow that.”

I turn around and find Crane standing behind me with what almost looks like annoyance at Nigma. The geek smiles and goes back to work on his riddles. I guess group therapy is over… but I didn’t get to do the activity. Unless-

I lift up my own rose to Crane, who looks at it apprehensively.

“What’s this for?”

“Dr. Crane, I want to say that despite your twisted methods of psychological treatment and outrageous experiments I think you are a very smart man with a hidden conscience, even if you disagree.”

He finally takes the rose, still looking deeply perplexed, and tucks it away in his pocket. “Calico, time to go.”

“Why not take her to the basement, hm?” Ivy jabs. “Make her your mindless puppet.”

Crane ignores her and drags me out before Dr. Quinzel can interrupt. 

“Why does Ivy keep mentioning the basement?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to stay out of, dear.” He opens the gate and scoffs. “Why on Earth do you subject yourself to boorish group exercises?”

“It was just a rose, Crane. No need to flatter yourself. I could have given it to anyone.”

“But you gave it to me.”

“Because you happened to be closest,” I say simply.

We enter the operating theater once again. I’ve lost count of how many experiments Crane’s performed but so far I’ve had to endure endless hours of criticism and shouting from hallucinations of my parents. Sometimes they appear as fuzzy visions that try to slap and mock me, sometimes all the toxin does is cause their shouting to ring in my ear. As usual I step up to wait next to the platform while Crane prepares today’s dose-

“Ow!”

A sharp pain jabs into my side. I look down and see a needle poking through my jumpsuit.

“What happened?” Dr. Crane asks without looking up.

“Got stabbed. Medical syringe by the looks of it.”

He stops working. “Wait. What color liquid was in the syringe?’

I look back at the needle and shrug. “Green.”

Crane’s head jerks up and he gets closer to look at the needle I’m referencing. “Oh God. That’s my newest toxin.” Suddenly he grabs my wrists and leads me to the wall. “Calico, you need to stand back. If you lie down it will take longer to filter through. I’m going to bind your hands so you don’t harm yourself.”

Why is he so shaken up? “I’ve dealt with fear before-”

“No, this dose is different. I haven’t finished working out the kinks. So far the test subjects have shown fear towards the things- or shall I say the people they favor.”

His words mull through my head. “So it reverses feelings of affection?”

Crane takes a minute to answer. “You could say so. Yes.”

Interesting. A toxin that turns love into fear. It’s cruel. Part of me admires Crane for wanting to fix it. Oh well. It can’t be as bad as any other dose I’ve-

“Pathetic. Lying. Ignorant.”

Th- That voice. It’s Crane’s voice. But he didn’t say it-

“Callie, Callie, the world’s biggest disappointing psychologist,” the voice growls again with delight. 

Now I see it. It’s Dr. Crane, but it’s not. He’s standing in the shadowed corner and waves a scornful finger at me.

“You’re not real,” I try to say in a determined voice. It’s just like any other hallucination-

“I’m not like any hallucination, dear. I can hear your thoughts. You like this, don’t you? You like being my lab rat. Getting special treatment. But you’re just like any other warm body with a pulse for me to torture.”

No! He’s not- It’s not right. I hate it here! Having no connection to the outside, being forced to socialize with Ivy and Nigma, having to face those intriguing eyes every afternoon- No. I don’t like special treatment? This psycho is torturing me! Despite it being all for science… No!

Crane’s shadowy figure looms closer and I back up until the cold concrete presses against me, squeezing my eyes shut. I’ve dealt with fear… Why does this one feel different?!

“Calico, look at me.”

It’s Crane. The real one. Right? It sounds like the real one.

A warm hand gently grabs each of my shoulders. “Whatever you see is not real. It will never be real.”

I keep my eyes shut and shake my head. “How can you promise that?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” the doctor replies sternly.

I huff sarcastically at his words. “Good to know.”

“I’m serious.”

“Am I?” The figure in the corner asks. “Or am I just lying to make you more compatible? It’s worked so far.”

“Shut up!” I bark.

“I didn’t say anything,” the real Crane says in a confused tone.

“Not you. The other you.” I nod my head to the hallucination.

“You see a different version of me?” Crane does little to hide his surprise. “The toxin is twisting your mind to make it seem that I hate you.”

“No shit, genius!” I hiss.

By now the shadowy figure is looming over me. The tattered image of Crane shows glowing eyes as though a demon is staring through my soul. Of all people to hallucinate, why him? Perhaps it’s because I have no one else to have any amount of affection for. Granted I don’t own any hint of love for him, nor anyone. But the toxin’s effects dig out even my deepest thoughts that show my respect for him.

“How long does the toxin take to die out?” 

“It should almost be done by now,” Dr. Crane says, still staring at me.

He’s right. The dark shadow’s taunts are fading and those demon eyes along with them. But that doesn’t erase the memory. 

“There you are.” Crane’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and somehow soothes me. “Your eyes aren’t feral now. That’s it, deep breaths.” He slowly takes my arm to pull me up and lead me to the platform. “You should sit down now. I’ll check your vitals before giving you the proper dose.”

Dear God. Off of one poison and onto the next. If it weren’t for the last dose’s fatigue draining my energy I’d argue. Instead I follow his instructions and sit down before my legs give out. No doubt I’ll sleep heavily tonight.

“First your pulse.”

The doctor pulls up my sleeve and presses two fingers to my wrist. After a minute he jots down some notes and goes on to flash a light in my eye.

“Your reflexes are still active. How do you feel?”

“Like I just ran a marathon,” I reply, staring blankly at the wall behind him.

“I’ll arrange for a nutrient tablet.” 

Crane pulls out the selected syringe and inserts it into my arm. Once again I’m faced with my parents yelling at me to improve.

“Calico Prentiss, you are a disgrace to our family!” Dad roars.

Compared to the terror I just experienced ten minutes ago this is child’s play.

“Based on your reaction I assume you’ve begun to overcome your Atychiphobia?” Crane comments.

“Slowly, yes.”

The doctor writes down more observations and I can tell there’s something else on his mind.

“It’s been bugging me. Why is it you’ve never been with anyone? Mommy and daddy prevented you from dating?” he asks with hidden mockery.

I roll my eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually. They tried to set me up with any rich snob they could find. After they died I tried dating again. People tell me it’s fun but it’s not enjoyable at all when the people I meet don’t know a gun from a stapler.”

“So you’re attracted to intelligence,” Crane says, not bothering to look up from his clipboard.

I’ve never thought of it that way. Sure, being around smart people is a given perk. But actually having attractiveness to them, that actually explains why I’ve never dated much.

“I suppose I am.”

He hums in response and goes on to pack up his equipment. Another day, another toxin.

Bang! Bang!

The sound of someone pounding against the metal door to my cell jolts me from a deep sleep. In a frantic state I jump up and find- Crane? Huh. Why would he be down here at this time of night? The only time he visits is for experiments.

Bang! He slams his head into the door and grips the bars. 

“Jesus! What-? Dr. Crane, are you ok?”

Something’s amiss. I’ve seen Crane go crazy over watching me go through his toxins but this… I’ve never seen him this berserk. Almost like his mind is miles away.

“Not here.” The doctor finally looks up at me and I see a mix of pure terror and excitement in his disturbed blue eyes. “Not here, Calico. He’s not in right now…”

His eyes tell a wild story, shifting all around as if he’s seeing something I’m not. When he does make direct eye contact Crane almost seems to ask for help.

“Hey! Get back here!” A woman’s voice shouts.

Crane jerks his head at the voice and gives me one last silent plea before sprinting off down the dark hallway. Where-? What-? I have so many questions! I can’t just sit here!

I attempt to try and pick the lock just as an approaching flashlight beam blinds me. A woman in a police uniform walks up cautiously. When she sees me her eyes go wide.

“Oh my God! Isley was right! Crane does have a patient hidden back here!”

“What’s going on?” I ask urgently.

“My name is Detective Montoya. We’re here to investigate a call from Batman. Something about the basement.”

“I knew there was something in there but Dr. Crane never told me.”

Montoya sighs heavily and starts to pick the lock on my cell. “We found evidence that Dr. Crane has been dumping an unknown chemical into Gotham’s water supply. He has now been removed from the Arkham staff due to a sudden decline in mental health. How long have you been down here?”

Good question. How long have I been down here? I lost count after a month.

“I don’t know. Can’t see the sun.”

“I’ve heard of solitary confinement but this is inhumane.” Montoya opens the door and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Has he done anything to you? Touched you? Abused you?”

Do I tell her about the experiments? After all, they weren’t as harmful as I expected. If anything, addressing my past has only helped me more than hurt me. Besides, Crane already got sacked. He’s done for.

“No. He just locked me up because a corrupt judge wanted me to be kept quiet.”

The policewoman shines her light ahead and leads me up the stairs. “You have nothing to worry about, honey. Crane can’t hurt you anymore. Seems to me like you’re just as sane as I am.”

I shake my head. “I was never supposed to be here.” At this point who’s to say what is sane? A month ago I would have called everyone in this asylum crazy. But after talking with Ivy and Nigma I realize now that even crazy people can be nice. I daresay they might even be more humane than sane people.

“Don’t worry,” Montoya assures me. “I’m going to talk to Gordon about this and get you a proper attorney. In your case I suggest Rachel Dawes.”

Okie dokie.

[renee-writer]

He Didn't Have to Be Chapter 5

AO3

“Anya Ruth,” mum announces her name. She lays on the bed, the baby at her breast.

 

“Anya,” I test it out, “kind of queer.”

 

Daddy Jamie smiles. “It means fire. Appropriate with her hair color, eh?”

 

I have to admit that it is. Her head does look like fire, curls of it, like the fireplace at Lallybroch.

 

“Anya Ruth, hi.” She remains focused on eating and ignores me.

 

“Dinna fash lad. She will adore you.”

 

She did. When she got fussy, the funny faces I made would sometimes calm her. Well, the times she didn’t need fed, or her nappy changed.

 

I helped mum by fetching a clean one. They didn’t ask me to change her, thank God. Her nappies smelled awful.

 

Daddy Jamie laughed one day at my look. He was changing her and I was his helper.

 

“All babies smell not so nice when they are little.”

 

“If I smelled like that, I need to apologize to mum.”

 

He laughs harder, lifting Anaya up after placing the dirty nappy in the bin.

 

“Mum’s are very understanding.” He assured me.

 

We head out to the doctor’s . Anya is due her first checkup. I sit by her carrier making funny faces while mum goes to check her in.

 

“Anya Ruth Fraser.” I hear her tell the lass at the desk. I frown. Anya wasn’t a Randall like me?

 

“Mum,” I tugged at her shirt. We sit in the exam room, waiting on the doctor. She feeds Anya, “Why is she not a Randall like me?”

 

She looked over at me. “Judah, because her daddy is Jamie and she carries his last name just like you carry your daddy’s last name.”

 

I think about this while the doctor exams Anya. Part of my attention is on him, making sure he does nothing to harm her.

 

When the exam is finished and we are heading out, I look over at mum as she is strapping the baby into her seat, “Mum, Daddy Jamie is my daddy now too. I want to be a Fraser.”

 

“That is what he said, Jamie.” I am supposed to be in bed but have snuck out and am listening by the partially opened living room door.

 

“Do you believe it is right, to take away his father’s name? Not that I am not thrilled and honored that he wishes to carry mine.”

 

I hear my mom move around. She is thinking.

 

“I believe Frank would understand. He would want him to have a daddy. Family was important to him but Judah will always be of his blood.”

 

“Aye, we shall speak to the lad about it.”

 

Satisfied, I hurry back to bed.

 

“Judah, I hear you would like to be a Fraser “ I nod eagerly.

 

“Aye, Daddy Jamie, I would a lot,” a frown as I think of something, “I already am, right?”

 

I will always remember the way he smiles. “Aye Judah, you are. This would just make it official. Your last name would change from Randall to Fraser.”

 

“So I wouldn’t be Judah Franklin Randall anymore?” As much as I wanted to be a Fraser, the idea of not being a Randall still upset me. He knew and thoughtfully nods.

 

“How about this? You could be Judah Franklin Randall Fraser. You would just have two middle names.”

 

I grin and throw my arms around him. “I love that idea.”

 

“Then you would be like me. I also have two middle names. Alexander and Malcolm. Mam and dad couldn’t decide on one so they gave me both.”

 

My grin grows larger. “I want to be like you.”

 

“A gift I never expected to receive,” he tells mum later that night, “you all are.” He cradles Anya in his arms. I, playing in the next room, beam. A gift. Mum calls me that all the time. To hear it from my new daddy, it does something deep inside me.

 

“You are to us,” mum replies, “a welcome gift to Judah and I. I never thought I would meet someone who would fully accept him.”

 

He chuckles. “You were dating the wrong men then, my Sassanach. Any real man would love him, accept him, and treat him like a son.”

 

She sighs. “Like our son, not just mine.”

 

He kisses her. “Aye, like he came from me. I cannot wait until he is officially mine.”

 

I ran out then. “When daddy, when will I be, “ I stumbled a bit over the word officially, “ yours?”

 

He drew me into the other side of his lap. “I shall speak to my barrister tomorrow. It shouldn’t take long.”

 

We all smile at this, even Anya.

[peerlessscowl]

She finds him in the medical tent after the battle's end. An overwhelming sense of regret beckons the Nordion princess to find the man with rust colored hair. For this was not the type of battle she desired! It was her hopes to test the edges of comradery and gain new companions. Not this... The lioness is slow to approach, unsure of the proper tactic. They had not spoken in the entirety of battle and it was unlikely he would have a high opinion of her. But this was not the time to get discouraged! She had been through much harsher tests, pressed to the limits of what life could taste. The halo of blonde approaches calmly to his bedside. Calm, stay calm. "Sir Raymond, I take it? I never received your name during battle....Ah, well I wished to express my utter apologies for the way the battle turned out." Lips press together tightly as her brow furrows. "I do not believe that was the commendable way to achieve victory. You are clearly very skilled and I treated you poorly.....It is my hope that we can be acquaintances and put this brutish battle behind us..." "If there is some way I can apologize for my reproachable behavior...If there is some way I can make it up to you," Lachesis adds. "Do not hesitate to let me know, for I do not desire animosity between us."

He dreams, sometimes, bringing what might have been restful sleep to something that is half-waking. It happens more at night than after battle, but the feeling of the ground hitting his knees and tipping forward has haunted him a time or two as well, the dizzy sensation where the world tips to one side in the seconds before everything turns black.

Raven feels it, still, the tug in his chest, the pull of energy from without trying to get at his softer parts, something sinister come to burrow and his core and feast.

He hears the shouting of the medics, though muffled by the haze. Eventually, the sound, too drowns out and fades into the background - dispersed, naturally, he supposes, as his condition stabilizes and they leave his body to do the hard work. The clarity of consciousness comes to him sharply, almost crisp, almost cold against his senses.

He feels her coming before he sees or hears her, and he isn't certain if it is the sense of nausea pitching his gut on the instinct, the shying away of his natural self-preservation from the thing that had sought to sink its claws into him.

He doesn't grant her the dignity of flinching at her approach, raising his gaze to meet hers steadily as she speaks. Raven listens, does not interrupt, eyes never wavering in spite of her self-consciousness - what need have he to be gracious of a witch's feelings?

When she is done, he rises from the cot - slowly, not because of his fatigue, masking it as best he could despite the shivering in his fingers, but slowly to draw attention to their proximity, the fact that if he wanted, he could merely reach out-

There is a beat of silence, then; "Lord, actually. Not sir."

Through the slits of his narrowed eyes, he can see that she is pretty - some lady or another, probably got away with just being pretty her whole life - and he can see that she is used to her charm carrying the brunt of whatever she might like to achieve.

But he remembers the drag of magic across his heart, the flush of her cheeks as his paled, and how she had focused solely on him while chatting casually with his own teammate - the disrespect shown to an opponent you consider an afterthought. The facade doesn't faze him.

"Where I'm from," he begins, voice low and deliberate as he takes a step closer, bridging any distance between them with some certainty, "we share stories. At equinoxes, solstices, in the dark of night to teach our children what comes for them in the night. What hungers for their life force, uses it for their benefit."

His eyes flick down in assessment, then back up to hers. "And at the end of those stories, there is always blood. Whose, depends on who does the telling."

Another beat. "But there is always blood."

He gives her a curt nod, shifting his weight to maintain the steadiness of his gait to move away from her in a straight line, ignoring the flutter of his heart not yet recovered.

He had memorized her face, and he knew that he would see it around, if he looked.

[hantengus-clones]

Today an image came to my head regarding their respective colors with the Hogwarts houses and honestly, I feel that each one fits like a glove, and while I am explaining (Shows a paper bag) I will place them some scarves inside this bag (winks at them)

Let's start with Sekido, surely you will get angry and insult me ​​for what I do, so excuse me (He takes out a scarf that represents Gryffindor while explaining) Sekido would be a Gryffindor because of his red color, and I think he fits perfectly with you, since this house represents leadership, being that you yourself take the lead with the other clones. It also represents strength, a characteristic to which you aspire a lot ❤️.

(He goes to Karaku, and repeats the same action he did with Sekido, but with a Slytherin scarf) Karaku, you would be a member of the Slytherin house, because of the green color you represent. This house perfectly with you, since like its representative animal; the snake, you attack everywhere and without any compassion, ready to draw poison with your opponents. Also, your mischievous personality is slippery like that animal 💚.

(Goes to Aizetsu, placing the Ravenclaw scarf around his neck) Aizetsu represents blue, just like Ravenclaw house. This house is perfect for you, since blue can symbolize sadness, but not only that feeling, the members of this house stand out for their intelligence and calm, when fighting you show calm and analysis to the enemy, as it does a Ravenclaw casting his magic, plus blue also symbolizes calm 💙.

And finally, to my dear Urogi (begins to gently and elegantly roll up a Hufflepuff scarf) You would come as a member of Hufflepuff house, because you represent the color yellow. Yellow is the representation of joy and jubilation, since you are the representative clone of that emotion, in addition to the fact that in that house, they are usually considered quite cheerful and charismatic, as is your beautiful essence (After finishing with his explanation, looks into his eyes, full of admiration and tenderness) 💛.

Oh, by the way, a few years ago I took my official Hogwarts house test and I'm... (He takes a Hufflepuff scarf out of the bag) Hufflepuff! (She rolls it up with elegance and coquetry in front of Urogi) 🩷.

And good? What do you think of my opinion regarding which Hogwarts house each one would belong to just by relating them to their representative color? Opinions and criticisms are accepted 😉.

(Raises an eyebrow, looking at the person with a mix of confusion and annoyance, scoffing dismissively.)

Gryffindor? What in the world are you blabbering about? Some childish house from a fantasy world has absolutely no relevance in the real world. I have no interest in playing some doll house or whatever the hell is this what you just said.

(Throws the scarf away.)

(Laughs playfully, accepting the Slytherin scarf in contrast to Sekido.)

Well, well, well, looks like I'm being sorted into Ssssss~lytherin, huh?~ Gotta admit, it's got the best color going for it!~ Alright, I'll embrace my inner Slytherin for now. Sounds cool enough, kyah, don't worry about Sekido's reaction though!

(Picks up the Gryffindor scarf and wraps it around Sekido's neck.)

He is just confused.~

(Looks down at the Ravenclaw scarf around his neck, a hint of confusion on his face.)

Ravenclaw… Blue... intelligence... calm...

(He trails off, unsure of how to respond, before awkwardly nodding and looking at you)

Well, I can't deny that I appreciate those traits... And yes, blue does carry the connotation of calmness... and other emotions as well… I suppose there might be a connection there, in a… way. It's an interesting interpretation, I must say.

(Aizetsu gives a small, wobbly smile, trying his best to play along with your description, despite his awkwardness.)

(Urogi chuckles delight as the Hufflepuff scarf is placed around his neck, he stands still just for a brief moment so you could wrap it.)

Hufflepuff, hmm?~ Yellow for joy and jubilation, you say you say? It sounds familiar!

(Urogi's face lights up with a beaming smile, radiating happiness.)

Well, if being cheerful and charismatic is the part of the game, then I think I would fit well!

(He strikes a playful pose, twirling the Hufflepuff scarf around his arm like a ribbon.)

Joy is my name, after all!

(When you announce being a Hufflepuff too, Urogis face lights up.)

Of course you are! The best of the bestest color! And house! Let's kick some asses together!