#trust and believe he will emerge victorious

[topnotchquark]

Vale Live tweeting his date with Marc to the Valencia test

[sarahscribbles]

So I've been battling with this little idea for a few days but other projects keep me from writing it…

Loki takes y/n shopping and they end up in a lingerie store where y/n teases him by trying on some spicy sets. Of course Loki doesn’t like to be provoked like that and takes her in the changing room💚

Sorry it took me so long to get to this, my love! I hope it's what you had in mind!

𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭!𝐃𝐨𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you leave the fifth store that day still empty handed. The shopping trip has, so far, been entirely unsuccessful, and you know that Loki’s patience is hanging on by a very thin thread. He’ll never say it, of course, but you noticed the silent roll of his jaw when you emerged from the last changing room and announced that none of the dresses you’d tried on were The One. 

He hadn’t believed you when you had told him over and over that finding the perfect outfit for Natasha’s birthday would be a marathon and not a sprint. Likely, he thought you’d emerge victorious from the first store and he could whisk you back to bed to celebrate, but you can feel the tetchiness and exasperation beginning to roll off him as you continue hand in hand down the street. 

Your fiancè is an angel, he really is, because no one - not even Wanda - has lasted this long on a shopping trip without voicing their irritation. Given how long you’ve both been traipsing around Manhattan, you have no doubt that Loki’s tolerance is balancing precariously on a knife edge. 

He hasn’t voiced a single complaint, though, something you take as just another confirmation that you’re choosing to spend your life with the right person. 

“You’re being so brave,” you say with an exaggerated air of solemnity. 

You turn to him with an expression that mirrors your tone and he responds with an elegant snort of laughter that makes you grin. 

Loki’s hand squeezes yours and he runs the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “Little menace,” he teases lightly. “Remind me to take you at your word next time, lest I have to suffer like this again.” 

You know he’s teasing because the man would move mountains if he so much as thought you’d want him to, but you still nudge him with your hip as you walk. 

“I promise that the next store will be the last! I feel like this one will be The One!” you assure him, already beginning to think of a hundred different ways you can make today up to him. Loki will never expect you to, of course, but how could you possibly turn down the chance of spending several hours in bed with him? 

“My darling, you do realise you’ve said that each time we’ve stopped in the last hour?” Loki replies, but the affection colouring his words is impossible to miss.

“Yes, but I have a really good feeling about the next place! Trust me!” you tell him, tugging him down the next street Wanda recommended that morning. 

It takes less than a minute to locate the boutique amongst the crowds of people. Typical of Wanda, it’s bright and loud and stands out like a beacon amidst the more neutral tones of the surrounding shops. You’re halfway towards the door, though, when something else catches your eye only a few doors down - a racy pink sign with an elegant script that you’re sure you’ve seen on bags scattered around Nat’s room. 

A new idea begins to blossom and take shape in your mind. 

With a casualness that would make the Black Widow proud you stroll past the boutique until you reach the lingerie store. It’s only when you’re standing right outside the doors that you peek up at Loki. He silently offers you a raised eyebrow and the subtle beginnings of a smirk. 

“I’m going to need something to wear under the dress,” you say in explanation. 

Loki’s hand leaves yours so he can gently pinch your ass through your jeans. “I believe you raise a very valid point.” 

oOo

It’s over half an hour before you finally make it to the changing rooms. Unsurprisingly, Loki has found a new lease of life as you wander around picking out various items of lingerie, and each time you attempt to steer him towards the changing rooms, he finds something new and more risque than before. 

Your previous mission of finding an outfit is long forgotten. 

“Honestly, you’d think you’d never seen me in lingerie before!” you tease him as he follows you into the bright pink changing rooms. 

“You’ll forgive me for never ceasing to be enthralled by how exquisite you are, darling,” he responds smoothly, locking one arm around your waist to pull you back against his chest and planting a kiss to your neck. 

“Yeah, yeah, Casanova. I’ve already agreed to marry you. You don’t have to try and seduce me,” you reply. 

“That is my life long intention,” he says quietly in your ear. 

You fight the excited shiver that threatens to wrack your spine, instead turning to give him an affectionate roll of your eyes as you step into the changing room. “Just behave while I try these on.”

Loki looks back at you with an expression of feigned outrage. “How can you make those ridiculous requests of me?”

You catch his wink as you close the door and begin to sift through the seemingly endless fabric gathered in your arms. The first set you try on is pink and floaty and makes you feel like a cloud of candy floss, but when you open the changing room door, Loki’s eyes darken as though you’ve stepped out wrapped in leather. 

“How innocent you look, darling,” he purrs, but you watch that trademark smirk curl across his face. “Although you and I both know that’s not the case. Remind me where that little mouth was last night?” 

You playfully flip him off. “This is definitely going in the “no” pile. I feel like I should call you Daddy.” 

Loki visibly cringes. “Please do not ever use that word in reference to me.” 

“You got it,” you say and step back into the room. 

The next set you selected while Loki was otherwise occupied. You have no intention of buying it, but it was impossible to pass up the opportunity to tease him. The bodice is plain but brilliant red in colour, and dips low enough to give you an amazing cleavage. 

Yet, somehow, you don’t think that will be enough to redeem it. 

Loki’s eyes shoot up the second you pull the door open, but his face quickly drops into a scowl when he sees you half naked in his brother’s colours. 

“No,” he says immediately, though you notice his eyes roaming appreciatively over you.

“No? Really? I wasn’t planning on trying anymore after this. It fits perfectly, and I think it looks good!” you say brightly, fighting not to laugh as his eyes narrow. 

“I am not above putting you over my knee in public, dove,” Loki warns you. 

Warmth spreads shamelessly through your lower stomach until you feel that familiar, pleasant tingle between your thighs. You’re almost certain he wouldn’t, but you are dealing with the God of Mischief. It’s the lingering doubt that makes you sashay back into the changing room with Loki’s quiet laughter at your back. 

With the door securely closed you begin to pick through the swathes of material still spread over the marble bench, but it doesn’t take long to decide what you’re trying on next. It’s another that you sneakily draped over your arm while Loki was elsewhere in the store - a feat you’re quite proud of given how he seems to notice everything.

This set is made of delicate black lace - Loki’s kryptonite - and has tiny gold beading woven tastefully into the bodice. The sweetheart neckline gives you an enviable cleavage and when you catch sight of yourself in the floor length mirror against the opposite wall, you can’t help but make an appreciative face at your own reflection. 

You look good.  

After a few circles in front of the mirror - and a brief moment of wishing you could pair the set with the matching stockings - you finally open the changing room door. 

Loki is slower to turn his gaze to you this time, but when he does, it’s impossible to miss the pure lust that alights in his eyes. They run over you slowly from head to toe, like a starving man presented with his first meal. He swallows silently, wets his lips, and in two steps is standing right before you. 

“Enough,” he says huskily, placing a large hand on your shoulder to push you back into the small room with him in tow. 

The door clicks closed behind him, but his eyes never once leave yours. They’re dancing with raw desire, even though he’s seen you like this a million times before. 

“It isn’t fair to tease, dove,” Loki says, reaching out to grab your chin. 

You fix him with a look of feigned innocence. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do, you little minx,” he replies quietly. His other hand is suddenly on your other shoulder and he’s spinning you around until you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. “Look at your reflection and tell me you aren’t testing the resolve of a god,” Loki murmurs lowly in your ear. 

Ignoring the first flames of arousal that are beginning to lick through your core, you meet his eyes in the mirror. “I was just trying on lingerie. I’m completely innocent.” 

Loki’s hand snakes around your throat from behind, applying just the right amount of pressure. “The God of Lies, darling.”

Even with his hand around your neck you smirk at him. “I think you’re losing your touch on that part.” 

“Brat,” Loki growls in your ear. 

Easily, he walks you forward until your knees hit the wide ottoman sitting just in front of the mirror. His arm curls around your waist before you can crumple, carefully guiding you into a kneeling position atop the soft velvet and slotting himself between your spread calves like a missing puzzle piece. 

“Be a good girl and admit that you were being a tease,” he speaks quietly against your temple. There’s humour in his voice, but it’s mixing with a dangerous note that you’d recognise anywhere.

Loki’s hand is still locked possessively around your neck, making it near impossible to lean into the teasing brush of his lips against your skin. He knows this and continues to ghost them over your flushed cheek, refusing to reward you with the full, thrilling feel of them. 

“Never!” you say through a laugh, and you’re rewarded with the quiet sound of Loki’s right by your ear. 

“As you wish, dove,” he says, each word dripping with warning. 

His free hand creeps slowly along the lace bodice, fingering the intricacies of the lace and the miniscule golden beads until it reaches the matching tiny black thong. With ease, he rips the fabric from your hips and tosses it carelessly to the side in one shocking - but equally arousing - movement.

“Hey! I haven’t paid for this, you know!” you cry out, attempting to appraise the damage but his hand holds your head firmly in place. 

“That’s not my problem,” Loki replies, sinking his teeth into your earlobe and gently pulling on the flesh. 

You groan and plant your hands back on his thighs, digging your nails through his jeans for an added kick. “I’ll make it your prob - o..oh!” you begin to mutter, but Loki’s fingers on your clit steal the words from your lungs. “Mm…fuck…,” you moan, letting your head dip back on his shoulder. 

“Ah, ah.” Loki quickly chastises you, using the hand still wrapped around your neck to guide your head forward. “Eyes on the mirror, dove. Eyes on me.” 

With another strangled moan as he skillfully circles your clit, you obediently keep your eyes trained on him. His face is pressed snugly against your cheek, and finally - finally - you feel the blessed press of his lips against your flushed skin. He leaves a wet trail of kisses all the way to your ear, then you feel the wet heat of his tongue trace a line along the sweet spot behind your ear. 

The only thing keeping you upright is the hand still gripping your throat, but even it can’t suppress the shiver that wracks violently through you. 

Loki’s fingers continue to rapidly propel you towards release, skillfully playing your body in a way only he can. Mixed with the filth that he’s whispering in your ear, you feel your climax begin to crest like a wave in your cunt, and when Loki decides to suck on your earlobe, you know you’re gone. 

“Loki…m’gonna cum. ‘M…gonna…..urghh!!” you cry out in utter frustration when he pulls his hand away from your dripping cunt. 

“I don’t think so, darling,” he purrs smoothly, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. “Not until you admit you were being a brat.” 

The scent of him - the scent of your home - wraps around you like a favourite blanket. It’s patchouli and clove and that ever evasive “something sweet” that drags you under like a buoy beneath the surf. You want to surrender, to lose yourself in this man as he loses himself in you in return, but, unsurprisingly, your stubbornness prevails. 

“Nope!” you say, trying to shake your head as best you can while he still holds it in place. 

Loki releases an exaggerated sigh and dips his fingers back between your thighs. “Very well.” 

Again and again he brings you right to the edge of a blinding release, each time letting your orgasm dangle enticingly before you and snatching it from your grasp when you still refuse to humour him. You whine and plead and beg, but he’s in a particularly sadistic mood this afternoon and refuses to grant you the climax you’re craving. 

By the fifth time, you’re whimpering and wriggling in his grasp. Each of your stolen orgasms are burning through your blood and you’re desperate for what promises to be a cataclysmic release, so when his fingers return once more to tease your aching cunt, you crave. 

“Alright! Ok, I yield! I was being a brat, you were right! I was being a brat and teasing you! Please let me cum now! Please!” you beg, not caring that you’re in a very public changing room in the middle of Manhattan. 

Loki presses his lips to your cheek. “Now, was that really so hard?” he taunts, and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Open.” 

Obediently, you clean your arousal off him and squirm with excitement when you hear him unbuckle his belt and free himself from his jeans. He moves closer still and his cock is achingly hard as he slides it along your slick cunt. You’re all but keening for him, about to burst with how wildly you crave him, but he repeats the motion again and again, laughing quietly as he does. 

“Loki, please!” you whine, pressing your ass back against him in a flimsy attempt to encourage him forward. 

It’s fruitless, you know; Loki does everything at his own pace. 

The hand still wrapped around your throat glides upwards to your jaw, locking your head completely in place. “Your eyes are not to leave this mirror,” Loki murmurs with quiet authority. “I want you to see what this perfect little body does to me. I want you to watch your god come apart. Understood?” 

You’re so madly aroused by this man that you can only manage a whimper, but when he lightly smacks your ass, you quickly find your voice. 

“Yes, Loki!” 

“Good girl. My good, good girl,” he praises you as his cock slips inside you inch by glorious inch. 

You’ve had this man more times than you can count, yet you still groan in absolute bliss when he fills you with his cock. He’s ruined you for anyone else. 

Loki’s face hovers near yours in the mirror and you delightfully watch in contort in pleasure with each thrust into your warm, welcoming cunt. His eyes slip closed in tandem with a broken stream of expletives spilling from his lips, words that you mirror when his fingers find your clit once again. 

Your instant cry of pleasure makes him groan shamelessly in your ear and reward you with a particularly rough thrust of his hips. “Exquisite, darling. You are exquisite,” he rasps in your ear. “Look at what you do to me, you divine creature.” 

And you do watch. 

You watch as he throws his head back on his shoulders, half lost to the pleasure your mortal body is bringing him; you watch his carefully styled hair become more disheveled with each thrust, falling haphazardly around his face in a rainfall of ink black; you watch the deep furrow of his brow and the parting of his lips as his own release builds like a storm within him. 

Watching him is better than any aphrodisiac. It’s addictively erotic - even more so at knowing it’s you that ignited so much desire in him that he had to take you here and now. His name is already etched across your heart, but you want to drown in this man until he’s all your lungs know. 

Watching his ascent to orgasm has only stirred your own to life between your thighs. You’re right at the edge, and this time you know he’ll finally grant you that glittering release. 

“Gonna cum. Loki…gonna cum…m’ gonna…,'' you slur out while his cock continues to brush against you at just the right angle and his fingers on your clit have you close to seeing stars. 

“Cum for me, beautiful girl,” he says roughly, but with a gentle squeeze of your throat.

You topple over easily, groaning his name as your orgasm rips violently through you. Your nails dig deeper into his denim clad thighs for purchase and, seconds later, Loki freefalls right along with you. He catches your eye in the mirror as his own orgasm drags him under, repeating your name like an ancient prayer of salvation.

The sight of him lost to pleasure only magnifies your own until you’re almost sure you’ll pass out from the sheer force of your climax. You don’t break Loki’s gaze for a second, not until the very last aftershocks are rippling through you and you feel boneless in his grip. 

Loki’s hand loosens from your throat in the wake of his own come down. Both arms wrap securely around your waist while his forehead falls to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips instantly latching on to your sensitive skin. You’re still spent and panting, and his cock is still buried inside you, but you gladly bask in the soft feel of his lips pressing along your shoulder. 

“So…d’you think I should buy this one?” you say lightly after a brief moment of silence. 

His answering laughter gently tickles your neck. “Darling, if you don’t, I will have no choice but to do this again and again until you see sense.” 

“That’s…that’s not really persuading me,” you reply, taking one of his hands in yours and bringing it to your lips. 

In response, you feel his teeth graze over your skin. “Hmm, how about this? If you buy this, we will return to the Compound immediately and I will lock our doors for the next few days.” 

You make a show of considering his words. “It’s a start, I guess.”

 Loki chuckles and nuzzles his face against your neck. “My darling, you have no idea what plans I have for you.”

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[queenie-avenue]

This is a man's world, but she rules it.

💌 ⤻ THE MAFIA BOSS, VITTORIA COSTANZA ft. THE COVER

—> the devil wears prada.

⤻ reader is female (i really needed some delulu), kidnapping, typical mafia activities, toxic behaviour, posesseive and obsessive behaviour, mentions of misogyny, conversion therapy and homophobia, death, non-consensual kissing

notes: thank you to @ciaheyhimm for allowing me to use this character! isabella was originally a character from a mafia roleplay set in the 1940s to 50s. please go check that blog out, they are a historical blog and i believe that she is writing a book at the moment!

💌 ⤻ archives.

"Thank you for your help in locating down my dearest [y/n]." The woman in the shadows spoke. That accent, that strong accent and overbearing smell of perfume... you found yourself thinking of one single person that came to your mind. Even her heels, branded with her own fashion brand 'Costanza' confirmed to you who this person was.

"Of course, I am a bit disappointed that you — how do you say? — compromised their location and safety to me, even as their bodyguard." She spoke, your body still laying paralysed against the lush bed that Vittoria had no doubt prepared for you. Ribbons of the finest silk bound your hands together, even as the drug forced you to stay put. It seemed she wanted to be very very sure that you wouldn't escape her, again.

Even the dress you were wearing, it was designed by her. Her brand's ribbons were on your body, a mark of her.

Your Father had disapproved of your relationship, with both of you two being girls and all... but you hadn't expected her to go this far.

"I can't trust someone like that out of the field. Who knows, if someone offers you some money, if you'd spill the beans on this little stunt of mine." You heard something click, and your head snapped over, eyes widened.

Then a gunshot sounded, causing you to scream before a body slumped to the ground, blood bleeding out from the shadows.

"Ay, aye, my Belleza, you should have told me you were awake." Her hips swayed as she emerged from the shadows. Her beautiful crimson red dress showed off the body you loved so much.

"Vitta, what the hell." You muttered as your attempted to raise yourself out of bed, only to be held down by the drugs in your system and the silk ribbons restraining you.

Slowly, she stalked towards you, like you were a prey she was ready to kill and feast on. But then, she simply sits on the edge of 'your' bed and begins to undress herself, slipping her zipper down as it revealed a petticoat underneath, and a corset that held her curved body together like a contorted doll, laced too tightly. You were so happy to get her out of it at one point, but when she stripped this time, it was intimidating.

"Darling." She whispered as she leaned in to caress your cheek. "I had to." She smiled, and that smile was so wicked, like the demoness Lilith had come to life in front of you.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

When you first met Vittoria, it was at a gala. A gala meant to celebrate Vittoria Costanzo's newest fashion collection, based on something you didn't bother listening to. You dressed in whatever your Father wanted you to dress in, which was most of the time, dresses that appealed to the male gaze in hopes of finding you a catch of a husband he could give you away to.

"Ah... Mister [l/n], what a pleasure to meet you." The woman that approached you was stunning. Her strawberry blonde hair was tossed into victory curls, showing off her gorgeous neckline and strong collarbone. She was dressed head to toe in red, the colour of blood. Even her lips, so delicate and beautifully shaped, were stained in that perfect shade of crimson that seemed to draw in attention to her and only her. You wondered whether she had informed everyone that she was the only one allowed to wear red on that day.

"And who might this cute little lady be?" Little lady? You were about the same age as her.

"Ah, this is my daughter, I don't believe you've met." Grinned your Father as he pat you forward, introducing you to the woman.

"A pleasure to meet you." You curtsied quaintly.

Instead of returning the curtsey, Vittoria snatched your gloved hand and planted a kiss there. Like a gentleman would to a lady. The red lipstick stained your gloves, marking you as her own.

"The pleasure is all mine." Her eyes glinted and you felt your cheeks heat up, as if she could see right through you. "As much as I'd love to stay here and chat with the both of you, I have to go entertain the rest of my sponsors." Vittoria grinned charmingly, "I'm sure you understand, Mister [l/n]." She waved goodbye to the two of you and you swore you saw her wink in your direction.

Before you could compose yourself, you heard your father groan and gag. "I cannot believe a woman like her would dare show her face and intentions like that."

"What do you mean?" You turned to him. Your father was never a pleasant man, but he would never say something so outright.

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned down. "That woman is rumoured to be queer." He spat out the word like it was the worst thing he could say. "Of course, a working woman would be something like that. She has no man in her life, so she wants to prey on innocent girls." Laughed your Father, which made you cringe.

"I will go get a cup of lemonade." You said to him as you flitted away like a butterfly as he went to talk to some other influential man.

Just as you picked out a drink, one of the waiters came over to you. "Madam Costanza has told me to deliver this message to you." You tilted your head as you looked at the tray he was carrying, a small card placed on it. You hesitantly took it and flipped it over, only reading it when you saw that no one was looking in your direction.

"That dress looks amazing on you. Perhaps if you come to my studio one of these days, I could design an even better dress for you." The card was sealed with a kiss from her red lipstick. Your gloved fingers smeared over the stain as you let out a sharp breath. The card wasn't signed, but you knew who had written it to tempt you.

Thus was the start of your affair with Vittoria Constanza, the most skilled fashion designer in Italy.

So how in the world did it end up this way? Your Father had figured out that you were having an affair with the lady and barred you from leaving your room, trying different forms of 'therapy' on you to convert you back into a normal woman. But nothing worked. He grew angrier day by day because of that. Not to mention, an illusive crime syndicate had decided to ruin his business with backstreet dealings. They exposed his tax fraud and more, which caused your Father to grow bankrupt and yet still, he did not allow you out of his grasp.

Then, that same mafia that ruined your family's business stormed your house. It was too obvious, not at all like the subtle actions the mafia normally acted out. It was chaotic and messy as they slaughtered any and all bodyguards that tried to fight back.

You felt strong arms behind you, force-feeding you some spill that you almost puked out. But the man simply shoved it in.

The last thing you saw was your Father's head being blown open by the a gun that Isabella held. She had pulled the trigger, and you screamed weakly before collapsing in the arms of the man.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Vittoria leaned over. "Are you feeling better? You've been out for a bit." She said in such a sweet tone, cooing at you like she had done when she cradled you in her arms inside of her fashion studio.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Vitta, Darling. Your Vittoria." She smiled. "Don't tell me those drugs changed your memory, my dear!" She chuckled. "I would have to kill the scientists that gave it to me."

"That's not what I meant!" You tried to get up, but you were restrained. Thank god the drug was starting to wear off, though, at least you could use your hands now. "You- you're part of the mafia." You said, terrified of the woman seated over you.

"Oh dear, I'm not just part of the mafia. When I join something, I make sure that I'm always at the top of it." Overconfidence dripped from her tongue as she rolled her eyes, "I rule the mafia. And I've taken you in to be a Queen by my side."

"Are you fucking crazy!" You yelled at her.

"Crazy in love, yes." She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "I understand that you don't want to forgive me right now, but this is just a spat between lovers. You'll forgive me eventually." She smiled softly, pressing yet another kiss to your restrained form.

You weren't sure of what lay ahead this odd fate God had thrust you into but you were sure you would never forgive Vittoria.

"I love you." She whispered, pressing yet another kiss, this time to your forehead.

"In this world of shadows, you're the only light in my life. So I won't let you escape."

[moon-river-me]

hey i saw you're open to requests!

What about a hotch x reader fic where he's reunited with an old friend on a case and he gets all flirty and flustered? No angst, happy ending if poss 👀

Aaron Hotchner x lawyer!reader

sfw, reuniting, fem reader <3 no haley or jack mentioned and no specific season

Eyes meet across the room. Warmth fills his gut. He knows those eyes, he memorized those eyes, he loved those eyes.

“Aaron?” your voice still sounded the same, like honey and warmth, like the soft and lulling pitter patter of rain on a spring’s night. Just how he remembered.

You made a B-line for him, at a determined speed. That’s another thing he remembered about you, so determined. Throughout all of law school you both would compete, for anything and everything, you almost always won.

“It’s really you, huh?” looking at him with so much admiration he needed to break the contact. “So, what’s a hotshot FBI agent doing here? Come back to beat the score.” You jest, hitting his elbow with your own. The score was something sacred back in your university days. It was a tally between you two, one that would update every time one of you got a higher grade, an award, a commendation, or stayed sober the longest, the last one was always biased. He fondly remembered nights of drunken giggles and takeout while watching badly written court tv shows on your thrifted couch.

“Oh no, those days are long gone. Any more tequila and my liver will go into failure.” A ghost of a smile paints his lips.

“I still get flashbacks after a mere whiff of the thing.” Your laughing sounding more of an amused snort, not caring who saw you. That was something Aaron always loved  liked about you, not once in the entire time he knew you did you ever care about how others viewed you. You were so uniquely you that he truly believes if another you appeared one day, the earth would stop spinning.

Emily and Morgan walked up behind him; he could see their smirks through the back of his head. “Hotch, I didn’t take you for a tequila connoisseur,” Derek was in view now, offering his hand to you, “Derek Morgan.”

“y/n l/n,” you state as you shake, “and you should have seen him in our second year of law, god I thought I was going to have to drag him to emergent care some nights.” Your words were embarrassing, but your eyes were filled to the brim with joyfulness, you make eye contact once again and it is as if the world stops. “But of course I was no better so I would be a hypocrite to say anymore.” You grin, your lip getting a slight tug from your teeth. Aaron felt himself blush as his brain began to create images of that lip, and those teeth, and that smile, and oh those beautiful eyes.

You noticed the change in his demeanor, you always had. Except this time, your eyes twinkled in victory. “So, what do you guys need?” you turn you head towards Emily, although your gaze is stuck like honey to Aarons eyes.

“We were told that you were the prosecutor for the case we are working on. We came to discuss some things about the trial.”

“Oh of course, let me just grab the file. One second.” You turned to walk to your office; it was just principle that Aaron followed you, no other reason.  “Come on agent Hotchner, the file isn’t going to find itself, I need your expert profiling skills to uncover it.” You laugh as you reach your office. Aaron looked at his very amused coworkers and felt the flush of his cheeks get 2 shades darker.

“I don’t know who she is or if they have a history, but he followed her like a dog.” Morgan states, a belly laugh following as he finishes his senses.

Emily observed you through the glass, your head thrown back in laughter, and Hotch’s eyes staring at you with something that could only describe as a child on Christmas morning.

“He is whipped.”

A/N

short and sweet but trust me I will start doing longer ones.

requests are still open, please give feedback.

ik it's not the best but I hope you like it.

[stqrgirlie0]

⋆✮theodore nott-pt 2✮⋆

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

the nott family has expanded with wealth over multiple generations, an abundance of wealth. perhaps not as much as the malfoy family, but certainly a fair share. considering this, one would think that theodore nott would be just as much of a prick as his father and every other male in his family is. however he’s not. quite the opposite actually, simply put- theodore is different. logically he wasn’t supposed end up how he has end up: as an actually nice human being, but i suppose we should thank his mother for this. Mrs Nott, born into the Shafiq family, derived from immense wealth as well the community of the Scared Twenty-eight. On a rainy night of March ‘86, Theodore, at the young age of 8, witnessed his mother’s murder by the hands of Rabastan Lestrange. Since then theo has frequent and violent flashbacks, keeping him up at night, leading to severe insomnia. Draco Malfoy is the first friend he befriends before joining Hogwarts, and so creating a strong brotherly bond between the two. theo is very fond of narcissa and thankful for her presence as a motherly figure, but of course this doesn’t stop him from missing the warmth of his mother..

Starting Hogwarts and making new friends wasn’t very hard for Theo, having spent most of his time by himself, in solitude, (or with Draco) theo had absolutely no problem in drowning out his surroundings. However this would have to change, he realised this as soon as he stepped into the great hall, bustling with students, nothing like theo had ever seen before. Arriving at the Slytherin table, full of new-joiners and boisterous upper years, theo quietly took his seat next to Draco. Everything about Hogwarts was beyond Theodore’s imagination, the laughter, the decorations, the colours, the people. Over the next few weeks, theo gradually emerged from his shell, gaining confidence the more he talked to others. Soon his group of friends expanded, he was like a magnet. Everyone wanted to talk to him, everyone wanted to be friends with him, it was a shock to say the least but what can one say- Theodore Nott to this day still has that charm. 1st and 2nd year flew by, full of mischief, trouble, and memories that would be unforgettable. Speaking of memories, theo will probably remember every single memory he’s ever had (possibly because the first 8 years of his life he had so few) but he will literally remember anything and everything. theo rarely went back home for the holidays, so when summer was finally over, he was more than happy to start Hogwarts for the third year. (this year EVERYONE got their glow up, and best you believe our man theodore did asw😻😻) theodore’s third year at hogwarts consisted of the friend group to dilute into five members- him, draco, mattheo, lorenzo and blaise. the five got up to no good- staying up late in each other’s dorms doing god knows what, sneaking out of hogwarts into hogsmeade and making their teacher’s lives miserable. not shockingly the group also managed to gain a whole lotta female attention, including theo, but unlike the others theo was quite unresponsive towards this and kept to himself and his friends, (lucky for us😝).

fourth year- things got messy. this year brought him and mattheo closer than before, initiating their very own brotherly bond. they would spend late nights up at the astronomy tower and come forward with their inner thoughts and feelings. theo feels a real sense of trust when talking to Mattheo about his mother, and likewise for Mattheo while talking about his father. if you think about it, Mattheo and theo are so similar yet so different, only more the reason for them to be getting along well. when i said things got messy, i was referring to the first party the gang was invited to. ravenclaws surprising quidditch victory lead to a huge rager thrown in their common room, with students from every house invited. now, why would they say no? that very night, the miraculous creation of fire whisky was discovered, they can all handle alcohol pretty well, but going to classes the next day was the real test.. yet this didn’t stop them from hosting regular shot nights in their dorms. midway through the year, draco’s interest had piqued in one of the greengrass sisters. (of course as we all expected) astoria was one of your dearest friends and seeing her so happy in a relationship with draco made your heart swell. so this bond caused the affixion of you, along with your two other best friends- pansy and daphne, with the group of boys. little did you know that this decision would result in you and a certain boy becoming one..

#a part two bcs you guys asked so kindly🙌🏼🥹 #kinda sad at the beginning and slightly rushed at the end😬 #i think I’m gonna do a part 3 but lmk if you guys’d want that!!

taglist- @iamgayforyourmom1510

[zzthekaiju]

So, Godzilla X Mothra as a Monsterverse movie, hmm...

Well, I got a lot of replies to the big comic saying that they’d like to hear my pitch for a GxM movie. So, here you go!

The film should be, at its core, of the romance genre variety. For both the kaiju and the human sub-plots. The overarching theme should not only be the Monsterverse’s usual “natural balance” motif, but also that of loving one another despite our differences and flaws, or perhaps because of them.

After all, “If you love a person, you accept the total person. With all the defects. Because those defects are a part of the person.”

 Obviously, Godzilla and Mothra are at the center of the kaiju side of the story. Big G is still patrolling for rogue titans while Mothra has made residence in Indonesia. Monarch returns with Madison Russell trying to prove her worth as a part of it. However, not only is her stubborn attitude grating on everyone, but her head is in a whirlwind because of Mothra’s newest ambassador: A good-natured and pacifistic young lady her age native to where the big bug titan lives. She and this newcomer (we’ll call her Lora for simplicity’s sake) are a mirror to Godzilla and Mothra. Also, Bernie and Trapper should return because there was NO way they weren’t having eyes for each other in the last movie.

As for our two kaiju, their relationship hits a snag when a new titan shows up with an uncanny resemblance to Mothra. And yes, this will be the Monsterverse’s answer to Battra (we’ll call him that here from now on). Battra is something of an older brother to Mothra, and the two have a very strong connection. Unfortunately, Battra’s way of handling protecting the Earth runs counter to how Godzilla does it (as in, wipe out human settlements and attack titans for the most minor of infractions), and Big G tries to handle it the only way he knows how (ie, beating him to death). But not only is Battra much stronger than he lets on (complete with an ability to control plant life), but Mothra intervenes on her ancestor’s side out of familial loyalty (she’s unaware of Battra killing people at this point), causing the king and queen to come to blows until she and Battra emerge victorious, driving Godzilla away.

This turns out to be a really bad move, as Battra is determined to wipe out humanity, believing them to be a scourge that Mothra foolishly trusted. Mothra doesn’t realize her mistake until Battra wipes out an entire village for the crime of being near a forest. She tries to stop him, but nearly gets killed before retreating.

Monarch’s main goal throughout the film is to reunite Godzilla and Mothra, requiring them to look high and low for clues to how this unique symbiotic relationship came to be. A major stop is the Hollow Earth Iwi tribe, which shows how the two met in the first place, and gives Jia a chance to enter the narrative. As time goes by, Madison and Lora’s relationship goes from “unstoppable force meets immovable object” to them finding common ground, and eventually falling in love. It’s them that enables Monarch to hatch a plan. With the help of Jia, and Madison’s mastery of the ORCA, they set Godzilla and Mothra up to meet again. Of course, they’re all rather surprised to see Godzilla so thoroughly heartbroken and ashamed of himself that he submits to her like any titan would to him. But as Jia translates Mothra’s thoughts, the insect Goddess and her king make up for each other’s faults.

Soon, it’s Godzilla and Mothra vs. Battra. But it’s not easy, as Battra has mastery over the elements, giving him an advantage over Godzilla by summoning giant plants to ensnare and attack him. Mothra gets in a lot of good hits, but in the end, it’s a combination attack from king and queen that destroys Battra’s wings, and reduces him to harmlessness. To show how much he trusts his queen, Godzilla allows him to live and Mothra to decide his fate. She ultimately has him confined to the same place she lives so that he has familial company. It ultimately ends with Godzilla and Mothra resting at the area where they first met, as Monarch watches from a safe distance with Madison and Lora sharing their first kiss. At least one person, probably Bernie, states that it’s the best double date ever.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

If anyone has other ideas/opinions, feel free to let me know!

[w2sarcher]

exploring europe | harry lewis

summary: y/n & harry travel around europe together face claim: dua lipa

word count (minus the instagram posts) : 2.5k

a/n: hi!!! this is a bit of a longer instagram au with short blurbs following each instragram post . hope you enjoy! also please send in any requests, i'll be more than happy to do them <3

more stuff by me : masterlist

-

first stop: ireland

liked by vikkstagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username guinness and a couple of goats ☘️🇮🇪 tagged wroetoshaw

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freyanightingale cool girl 😘

wroetoshaw don't pretend you enjoyed the guinness

calfreezy harry necking pints, shocker

vikkstagram are they circulr sunglasses i spot in the first pic? ↳ y/n_username ofc, the only glasses i wear!!!

faithlouiseak can't believe you're gone for a month

ynw2slove harry and the goat !!!! 🥺

sidemanxixfan too many goats in one photo dump

-

In the rolling green hills of the Irish countryside, where the air was crisp and the scent of flowers hung in the air, Harry and Y/N found themselves on a mission to find the perfect pint of Guinness. It was the third day into their stop-off in Ireland, and the pair had landed themselves in the middle of nowhere.

''Just get your phone out and look on maps; there's gotta be a pub around here somewhere,' Harry sighed. 'I mean, we're in Ireland of all places,''

Y/N rolled her eyes. They'd been walking for over twenty minutes with no luck—Harry mumbling about having a feeling he knew where he was despite the fact he had never been to this part of Ireland. It must have been his pro-Geoguesser skills talking, but right now those skills were useless and they were lost. 

''I've got no service, H. We're in the back end of nowhere.'' Y/N laughed, watching as the boy looked around the endless green fields, not a house or person other than the two of them in sight, just a few cows and sheep.

''Alright, well, trust me,'' he said clapping his hands together. ''I think 5 more minutes walking this way and we'll find something.''

5 minutes turned to 10, and 10 turned to 20, but eventually, they found themselves wandering into a quaint pub nestled at the edge of the smallest town either of them had ever seen. Harry was thrilled, gloating at the fact that he had managed to get them here with no directions, leaving out the point in which he had to thumb a random car down and ask the person driving where the closest town was. Y/N kept her mouth shut, letting him have his moment.

So their mission to find the perfect pint continued, Harry ordering them two pints of Guinness and two packets of Tayto (Irish crisps), eager to partake in this quintessential Irish tradition.

''You know, this pint is going to blow your mind.' Harry spoke, placing a glass and coaster in front of his lover.

''Oh, I bet'' she laughed in response, rolling her eyes when he wasn't looking. ''What'd you say we just neck it? Make it a competition?''

Harry narrowed his eyes, staring at her with a look that said, 'as if you think you could beat me necking a pint' without actually saying it.

''Come on, it'll be fun,'' Y/N said, opening her bag of crisps.

''Alright, doll, but don't be complaining when I annihilate you'' stopping to point at her ''and this pint of Guinness.'' Harry spoke and Y/N sent him a playful eyeroll back in return.

''3''

''2''

''1''

''Cheers,'' they both said, clinking their glasses together and then tapping the bottom of the glass on the table, a drinking tradition they always did whenever they necked their drinks. 

The creamy foam tickled their lips, dancing on their tongues as they tilted their heads back in hopes of downing the liquid. While drinking, they traded friendly banter and teasing glances, Harry kicking Y/N's leg under the table in hopes that she'd get distracted.

What felt like an eternity was probably only a few seconds for the pair. In the end, it was Y/N who emerged victorious, hitting her glass down on the table before Harry could finish his own.

''Ha!'' Y/N laughed as Harry placed his glass on the table not long after her. ''Better luck next time, babe.''

''I let you win that, by the way,'' he said, taking a crisp from the opened packet on the table.

''Oh, shut up, you're such a sore loser, H.'' Y/N replied, laughing as Harry failed to meet her eye. One thing Y/N loved but also hated about Harry was that he was a terrible loser when it came to accepting defeat, and as much as she knew best to not wind him up even further, she found it hard to conceal her triumph.

''How about another round then?' She grinned at the moody boy across from her and said, ''Maybe I'll let you win this time.''

...

second stop: france

liked by behzingagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username mickey and minnie in disneyland 🇫🇷 tagged wroetoshaw

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calfreezy this is actually quite cute

ksi bring me back a present from disney pls 😁

faithlouiseak aww enjoy

taliamar missing you already 🥺

theburntchip course harry's got the minnie ears on

behzingagram harry looking fire with that headband on

wroetoshaw ❤️

w2sfan2 as if y/n's managed to drag harry to disneyland

sidemanxixfan bet harry begged for the minnie ears

-

The second stop on Harry and Y/N's travels was France, and the pair had found themselves in Disneyland Paris. Harry wasn't necessarily a massive Disney fan, nor was Y/N, but she had said she wanted to go at least once in her life, and Harry was not one to ever say no to his girl.

So the pair found themselves in the heart of Disneyland, surrounded by the charm of Main Street, stumbling upon a little photo booth adorned with twinkling lights and colourful decorations.

"Look, Harry. A photo booth!" Y/N exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ''Let's get some pictures!''

Harry grinned, following her, and she pulled his arm, his heart happy that she was happy.

They stepped inside the booth, greeted by an array of playful props—oversized sunglasses, feather boas, and, most importantly, Minnie and Mickey headbands adorned with sparkling sequins.

"Oh my god,'' Y/N said, reaching for a pair of Mickey ears and placing them on her head. ''Here, you take the Minnie ones.''

Harry laughed, taking the pair of Minnie ears for himself. "Hope these fit on my big head.''

With giggles of delight, they struck playful poses for the camera, their laughter echoing in the small booth as they captured memories that would last a lifetime.

As the flash illuminated the space, Y/N leaned in close to Harry, her eyes shining with happiness. "I love this, H. It's like we're teens again, just having fun together."

Harry smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Reminds me of that shitty little photo booth we did back in Guernsey the first time you came to visit.''

They soon emerged from the photo booth, their cheeks flushed with excitement and their smiles reaching from ear to ear as they collected their pictures.

Looking at the pictures, the pair laughed at one another's silly poses, both agreeing it would look perfect stuck on their fridge with a magnet back in their London flat.

'Definitely worth the 12 euros.''

...

third stop : the netherlands

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by ksi and 420,924 others! y/n_username a few days in dam 🇳🇱 tagged wroetoshaw

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chrismd10 hope he fell off his bike

behzingagram what's in those cookies lads 👀

ynw2slover amsterDAMN harry is so fit

sidemenfan1 gorgeous in the first pic

tobjizzle enjoy guys 💙💙💙

theburntchip hope harry wasn't as drunk as he was when he went dam with the fellas ↳ y/n_username he was even worse😭

-

The third stop of their trip around Europe was the Netherlands. The pair had found themselves in the heart of Amsterdam, where the streets buzzed with energy and the scent of freshly baked stroopwafels wafted through the air.

Amsterdam was always quite nostalgic for Harry and Y/N. It was one of their favourite places to visit, not just with the two of them but also with their friends. They knew all the good spots to go, the best bars, restaurants and especially what cafes served the best weed brownies.

''First night in Amsterdam, what'd you say we start with a brownie?'' Harry questioned, knowing that this would trigger a long night ahead of them.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, knowing what the pair were like when they were high, but ultimately her curiosity was piqued by the suggestion. "Oh, I don't know, Harry. Isn't it a bit early?"

Harry shrugged, taking her hand in his. "Come on, Y/N. When has that ever stopped us? Plus, we're in Amsterdam; where else are we gonna get the chance to get stoned off a shitty little brownie?”

With a nervous laugh, Y/N relented, allowing Harry to lead her into a cosy cafe that the pair had visited a few years prior. They ordered two brownies and two cans of Diet Coke and found a quiet corner to sit and indulge.

As they took their first bites, the rich, chocolaty flavour melted on their tongues, leaving behind a lingering warmth that spread through their bodies.

Y/N looked at Harry, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Do you feel anything yet?"

Harry shook his head, his expression uncertain. "Not yet, silly. Takes a while to kick in. ."

As they waited, Y/N and Harry exchanged nervous glances, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The pair had gone on a booze boat earlier that day and were only just feeling like the alcohol was wearing off—perhaps the two mixed together wasn't a great combination.

More time passed and suddenly , a wave of laughter overcame Y/N, and her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Harry, I think it's starting to work."

Harry chuckled, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him, his eyes looking larger and puffier than usual. "You're right, love. I can feel it too."

Their laughter filled the cafe, drawing amused glances from the other customers as Y/N and Harry lost themselves in the joy of the moment.

As they sat together, hand in hand, Harry and Y/N realized that sometimes the best adventures were the ones shared with the person you loved most, especially when they ended in fits of laughter and memories that would last a lifetime.

''There's no one else I'd rather get completely baked with.''

...

fourth stop: stockholm, sweden

liked by wroetoshaw and 410,293 others! y/n_username celebrating midsummer in 🇸🇪 tagged: wroetoshaw

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freyanightingale pretty girl

wroetoshaw i'm still sneezing from all the flowers

calfreezy bog suits the flower crown

chrismd10 bog looking cute? can't believe it

faithlouiseak come home i miss you 😭 ↳ y/n_username only a few more weeks xxx

ynw2slover omg harry in the last pic?????? 🤤

sidemanxixfan mum and dad being adorable as per usual

-

The next stop for the pair was the picturesque countryside of Sweden, where the summer sun danced on the fields of flowers and the air was sweet with the scent of blooming blossoms. 

Unknown to Harry and Y/N when booking the trip, they found that the days of their stay aligned with the midsummer festivities that Sweden had to offer. Y/N, with her bright eyes and infectious laughter, eagerly anticipated the festival, whereas Harry was less enthused. 

As they joined the festivities in the village square, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement. "This is so good, H. It'll be such a laugh later, making flower crowns and dancing around the Maypole.'' 

Harry forced a smile, but inwardly, he cringed at the thought of wearing a flower crown. While Harry was a boy most definitely secure in himself, the thought of a few flowers stuck to his hair made him feel a bit daft. "Yeah, it's great, Y/N. But do we really have to wear those flower crowns?"

Y/N eyes widened in surprise. "Of course we do, H! I've seen you wear questionable things over the years; surely a flower crown isn't where you draw the line?'' 

Reluctantly, Harry followed Y'N to the flower crown-making station, ultimately knowing that she was right and he had just been silly. They were greeted by a table overflowing with colourful blooms and delicate ribbons.

As Y/N eagerly began crafting her crown, Harry hesitated once more, feeling out of place amidst the sea of flowers. "I don't know, doll. I feel silly wearing this."

She laughed, gently placing a crown of pink and red roses on his head. "Oh, stop it, you look lovely! Trust me, everyone wears them. It's part of the fun."

Harry grumbled under his breath. The thought of the boys slating him in the group chat once they got a hold of a picture of him wearing the flowers, was in the back of his mind. Pushing the thought away, he decided to go along with it for Y/N sake, knowing all the boys had probably done a lot worse to please their missus. As they joined the other villagers in dancing around the Maypole, Harry felt him ease into the festivities a bit more, feeling comfortable with Y/N's reassuring grip on his hand. 

The music played, and laughter filled the air and he found himself getting caught up in the joy of the moment. He twirled Y/N around the dance floor, the flower crown long forgotten as they lost themselves in the magic of Midsummer.

''Guess I don't look that daft after all.'' he shouted over the crowd. 

The music and dancing continued until the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky blazed with hues of orange and yellow, Harry realized that sometimes embracing tradition meant embracing the ones you loved—even if it meant wearing a what he had once described as a 'silly flower crown'. And as he looked at Y/N, her eyes shining with happiness, he knew that celebrating Midsummer with her was a memory he would cherish forever.

...

fifth stop : greece

liked by ksi and 420,924 others! y/n_username aye aye captain! 🇬🇷 tagged wroetoshaw

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behzingagram cute little sailor @wroetoshaw

ynw2slover you are so stunning!!!!

sidemenfan1 greece looks so pretty

theburntchip me and sabina were there the other week, unreal place ↳ y/n_username my favourite place i've been so far

wroetoshaw fit ↳ y/n_username me or you? ↳ wroetoshaw me obviously

-

Greece was the next place that Harry and Y/N had found themselves on their travels. Swimming in the tranquil waters of the Aegean Sea, Harry and Y/N set off on a boating adventure, hearts light and bellies full from the fruit that they had devoured at breakfast. 

As they cruised along the shimmering surface of the water, Harry's playful antics grew more and more daring, fueled by the warmth of the sun and one too many shots of Ouzo. 

''Y/N, prepare to be amazed!'' he exclaimed, his voice slurred with intoxication as he stood on the edge of the boat, a grin on his face.

''What are you playing at now?'' Y/N rolled her eyes, accustomed to Harry's antics. 

With a flourish, Harry announced his intention to perform a daring flip off the side of the boat—a feat he was certain would impress Y/N. 

"Get your camera out, this’ll go viral!" Harry declared, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Reluctantly, she reached for her phone, trying to suppress a giggle as she aimed the camera at her swaying boyfriend.

But as Harry prepared to launch himself into the air, his balance faltered, and he stumbled awkwardly before falling unceremoniously into the water with a loud splash.

She burst into laughter, unable to contain her amusement, as she watched Harry emerge from the water, sputtering and coughing.

"You've had an absolute stinker," Y/N teased, her laughter echoing across the lake.

Harry sheepishly climbed back onto the boat, his pride wounded but his spirits still high. "A proper howler," he replied, trying to save face as he joined Y/N in laughter.

As they continued their boating adventure, Harry's failed flip became the stuff of a legend, a story they would retell for years to come, a moment that Y/N would be forever grateful she got on camera.

-

last stop: iceland

liked by behzingagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username ice ice baby 🇮🇸 tagged wroetoshaw

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calfreezy sick pictures

faithlouiseak omg only a few more days and you're home 🥺 ↳ y/n_username can't wait to see your face!

taliamar very aesthetic

theburntchip got me wanting to book a trip to iceland asap

wroetoshaw ❤️

w2sfan2 kinda sad the europe travels are over

sidemanxixfan no more europe content i'm emotional

-

The last stop on their travels was Iceland, where bubbling geysers and towering waterfalls painted the landscape in hues of wonder. It was their final day of their holiday, and Harry and Y/N found them immersed in the tranquilly of the Blue Lagoon. 

As they waded into the warm, mineral-rich waters, Y/N let out a contented sigh, her worries melting away with each gentle ripple.

"This has been amazing, Harry," Y/N said, her voice filled with awe as she gazed around at the ethereal beauty of their surroundings. ''The best few weeks of my life, I think.''

Harry smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection, as he reached for Y/N's hand, admiring the black swimsuit that clothed her body. "Glad we picked Iceland as our last spot, best way to end it I think.”

They floated together in blissful silence, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the rocky shore. And as the night sky darkened, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness that their holiday was coming to an end.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Y/N whispered, her voice tinged with longing. ''Gonna miss it being just us.''

Harry squeezed her hand, his gaze soft with understanding. "Me too, lovely.“ he paused moving his other hand to graze over her cheek. “But we'll do it again some time soon, I promise. Anytime I've got a few days free on the calendar, they're all for you.''

Y/N smiled, holding out her pinky finger and latching it on to his. "Promise.”

With a promise made, they watched the sun set over the horizon, holding each other close, talking about the precious moments they had shared over the last few weeks—moments filled with love, laughter, and obscene amounts of alcohol. Moments they would remember forever.

...

wroetoshaw posted an instagram story!

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hollytoshaw: thanks for reading!!! this is my favourite instagram au i've done so far so i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i did making it <3333 pls send requests to my inbox. thanks for all the love so far <333

[lev1hei1chou]

Monopoly

Gojo x reader ft. Nanami, Yuji and Megumi Genre: Fluff Words: 575 Synopsis: Gojo and the gang play monopoly Masterlist

It was a cozy evening at your and Gojo's apartment, and you had invited Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori, and Kento Nanami for a casual game night. Little did you know that when Monopoly came out, chaos was about to unfold.

The game board was set up on the coffee table, money neatly stacked, and everyone promptly took their places around the board. Satoru, ever the enthusiastic one, couldn't contain his excitement.

"All right, you guys! Let the games begin!" Gojo announced with a dramatic flair, his vibrant eyes gleaming.

Nanami, as always, was calm and collected, his stern expression hinting at the seriousness he would bring to this seemingly innocent game. Megumi and Yuji were ready for the challenge, though it seemed that Yuji's eagerness might lead him into trouble.

The first rule was established by Gojo, of course. "Whoever rolls the highest gets to be my partner. And trust me, you want to be my partner."

Nanami raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. You rolled the dice first, and miraculously, you got a six. Gojo rolled next, and to everyone's disbelief, he also got a six.

"Looks like it's destiny, babe," Gojo winked, earning an eye-roll from Nanami.

As the game progressed, Gojo began introducing the most absurd rules. "If you land on my property, you owe me a massage. And if I land on yours, I get one. It's only fair, right?"

Nanami, having none of it, deadpanned, "We're here to play Monopoly, not engage in questionable transactions."

Meanwhile, Yuji was oblivious to Gojo's schemes, already planning how to spend his virtual millions. Gojo, seeing the opportunity, tried to convince Yuji to trade his prime properties for a mere railroad.

"Come on, Yuji, it's a special edition, super-fast, interdimensional railroad! Beats those boring streets any day!"

"Really?" the younger boy asked as if he believed Gojo's words.

Thankfully, Nanami and you intervened, saving Yuji from a potentially disastrous deal. Nanami sighed, "Stick to the rules, Itadori. Don't let him fool you."

But Gojo wasn't discouraged. He continued trying to implement new rules like "reverse rent," where the one landing on the property received money instead. His antics had everyone in splits, except for Nanami, who maintained his stoic demeanor.

As the game progressed, the tension rose. Gojo's fortune was fluctuating, and Nanami strategically acquired a Monopoly. Megumi silently amassed a small fortune, while Yuji struggled to understand the intricacies of trading.

At one point, Gojo suggested a rule that made everyone contribute money to a community chest for a group spa day. Nanami, unamused, said, "We're not here for spa days, Gojo. Let's focus on the game."

As the game neared its end, Megumi emerged as the silent powerhouse. He strategically bankrupted Gojo, acquired valuable properties, and built hotels with a poker face that rivaled Nanami's. Gojo, undeterred, proposed a last-minute rule change, but Nanami put his foot down.

"We're playing by the rules, Gojo. Accept your defeat gracefully."

In the end, it was Megumi who emerged victorious, much to everyone's surprise. Gojo, ever the sore loser, pouted for a moment before flashing a grin.

"Alright, alright, you win this time, Megumi. But next time, I'm bringing my own set of rules!"

Despite the absurdity and occasional frustration, the game night ended with laughter and camaraderie. As everyone bid their farewells, Gojo couldn't resist teasing one last time.

"Next time, we're playing strip Monopoly!"

Nanami sighed, "I think I'll pass on that one."

[eu-nicola]

Beyond Friendship - Percy Jackson x Reader

summary: In a journey of years, you and Percy discover that your connection goes beyond friendship.

warnings: without ( maybe clarify that I don't like what I wrote )

thanks to @lady-ashfade for the amazing divider

You and Percy were in front of the mysterious Oracle of Delphi. With determination in their eyes, they decided to accept this journey so that no one else would have to go through any danger. You didn't imagine that such a mission would ever be given to you, but you were still willing to do your best to emerge victorious.

Not even a week had passed that you and Percy had already set out on the path for this task, you certainly still had a long way to go but with Percy by your side things became easier for you.

“Do you think we're ready for this?” Percy asked you.

“Yes, I believe it, we are children of our Gods and that makes us stronger and more intelligent, that's what my mother always tells me.” You answered him while you settled on a couch in a hotel that your mother had arranged for you to get to.

“Have you always been close to your mother?”

“As far back as I can remember, she claims me from the first minute i arrived at the camp. I felt honored to be her daughter.”

“I'm glad that at least one is close to a God.” While Percy was saying all this you could tell how he really wanted to be close to his father.

“The gods act in strange ways, don't worry, I'm sure your father wants the same thing, it's just difficult.”

"I guess so".

"Percy, you know we should start planning what we're going to do." You asked him.

“Yes, well, I haven't thought about it much. Do you have any idea?".

“Maybe we should go to the temple of Athena, there is a hidden library there.” Said.

“That sounds good but now I want to sleep, rest.” After that you and Percy fell asleep as fast as you could.

As the days went by and you investigated the clues, you and Percy without realizing it became closer and every time you spent time together you got along better. Percy's bravery and cunning complemented perfectly with your beauty and insight.

In every dangerous situation both found themselves in, supported each other, trusting in yours abilities and the special connection they had discovered. Together, they overcame obstacles, faced mythological creatures, and challenged powerful enemies trying to stop them.

With each step they took, the enigma slowly unraveled. You and Percy discovered that the Oracle of Delphi held dark secrets that threatened the fate of the demigods and the balance of the world.

Armed with their bravery and determination, they faced the powerful enemies that protected the Oracle. They no longer seemed like just two children but rather young people willing to do whatever was necessary to protect their loved ones.

This journey had lasted for years where you had made new friends and new people had joined you in the same situation, in that time you and Percy realized how much you had learned from each other. Their connection had grown into something more than friendship.

Together, they continued to face challenges and celebrate each achievement. Their connection grew even stronger, becoming an inseparable team. At the end of your journey, you and Percy had completed everything and solved the riddle, which had taken you down difficult but never impossible paths.

When they finally returned to Camp Half-Blood, their names were already echoing throughout the camp and even Olympus, for now everything was at peace and they hoped it would stay that way.

[missdawnandherdusk]

All Good Things to Those Who Wait

Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

There goes the last great American dynasty

Who knows if she never showed up, what could have been

There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen

She had a marvelous time ruinin' everything

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8

Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12

The Chapter That Never Happened  Chapter 13

Chapter 14  Chapter 15

Summary: tying up some loose ends :)

A/n: *emerges from the void*

Everything has an ending. The best stories, and the worst ones. Looking back at my story, there was no better ending I could have asked the stars for. I lost people I loved but I also stood for what I believed in and led an army to victory. No one would forget what had happened in those days. The days of the Great War. 

But what is life without tying up a few loose ends. You’ve come with me this far on this journey, and now as I look back, perhaps there are some things that you’d like to know. Some conversations you’d like to hear. Some people you’d like to meet or see again. So, here are those loose ends, tied together.

**********************************

I stepped onto the porch of my childhood home. It was in the efforts to try and find my mother, and try to find some peace and meaning after the past years. Draco came with me, at my side. 

“She’s not here,” I sighed, knowing before we even stepped foot in the house that my mother wasn’t waiting for me. “And somehow that hurt’s more,” 

“She’ll come in her own time love,” Draco soothed. Maybe he was right, or maybe I’d always be searching for her in the stars like I looked for my father. 

Draco and I sat on the porch that night, watching the sun set and the fireflies come to life in the meadow that blanketed around us. 

“You cast a patronus,” Draco said as I laid my head on his shoulder, watching the wildflowers dance in the wind. 

“I know,” A smile touched my lips. 

“It was a dragon,”

“Yeah,” I took his hand into mine, thinking back to the first night Draco cast his own patronus with my father’s wand. How things had changed since then. “My mother always told me that one day I’d find my patronus and it would watch over me like my father,” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“I don’t think you need anyones protection,” The humor in his voice gave way to the smile that I couldn’t see. 

“It’s still nice to have someone beside me—to fight alongside me,” 

He was quiet a moment before airing his doubts. “Do you think that maybe…” I knew where he was going with the thought, because it had been chipping at the back of my mind. 

“Because they’re so different we’re not meant to be together?” I mused, finishing his worried thought. 

“Yeah,” He sighed.

“No,” I sat up, facing him. “I think they’re just right for us. I’ve thought about it—more than I should. But in reality… if we think about it, your lion,” 

“Aslan,” Draco’s fingers brushed over my locket. A smile crept to my lips and I nodded. 

“And the first task,” 

“The what?” I had caught him off guard, a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Our fourth year, that first task of the tournament.” Realization struck him. 

“Our patronus’ show the start of us—when we really first started to trust each other.” I took his hand back into mine. “They’re not so different after all,” 

He laughed without fear and kissed me softly, before pulling me closer. “The start of us,” Draco mused, and maybe he could see them like I could: a younger me standing there, skeptically looking at a younger Draco. Before the war, before the long nights, secret kiss, tears, laughter, love and loss. Two kids who took a chance. 

When the sun cleared the horizon and its final rays fading, Draco and I headed inside—to the empty house that still promised to protect me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a knock on the door. In the week that we had been here, no one had disturbed out haven. No one knew we were here.

Draco looked up from his book. I dislodged myself from the couch and his arms, and went to answer the door, on guard. I stared at the one standing before me, not knowing how to quite process it. 

“Hi, mum,” I whispered. 

“Hello,” 

Time stilled around us. Everything came rushing to the surface only to be stopped by my unparted lips. One thought escaped. 

“I did it,” my voice was barely audible. 

“I’m so proud of you,” 

Tears stung my eyes. After all was said and done relief flooded through me more than anger did. Perhaps it was the peace that blanketed the Wizarding world that calmed my hurt. 

“Mum,” My voice broke into tears. Amity wrapped around us as—after years—I got a hug from my mother. 

“I’m so sorry, honey,” She whispered, stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry,” 

I nodded into her shoulder, letting all of my bottled-up tears come out. All of the stresses from war and the nightmares that plagued me at night—my mother was still there to hold me tight. It didn’t matter that I was still hurting from wounds she inflicted, to know she was there, willing to hold me tight, and call me hers was enough. 

“Y/n, are you—” Draco came out and paused. I pulled away from my mother and looked at him. He gave me a soft smile and nodded, heading back into the house. 

“Is he upset with me?” My mother asked. I laughed hopelessly. 

“I don’t know,” I said, wiping away my tears. 

“Are you?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” My voice softened. “There’s so much right now… so much to sort through…” 

“There is.” She didn’t deny it, and maybe it was comforting that someone outside of my peers acknowledged that I had been through a lot, and in turn that had caused a lot of heavy burdens on my heart and soul. 

My gaze drifted back to hers. 

“Do you wanna come in?” I asked. 

She shook her head. “That’s not what you want, nor need,” Reaching our she placed per hand on my arm, soothing me before I could argue. “I’ll be around if you need me, but until then, the house is for you—it always has been. Build a life,” She smiled and looked through the window—probably at where Draco was inevitably spying on us. “You’ve found a good one,” 

A smile touched my lips. 

“Thanks mum,” 

My mother inhaled sharply and nodded. “I’ll be off then,” Turning to go down the porch stairs, she paused. “He would be so proud of you,” 

Tears burned my eyes again, as I wrapped my arms around her, needing her to hold me just once more before I could let her go. Because in her arms was also the love of my father that was taken from me too soon by this war. A war that I saw an end to. And maybe in that moment, the war within me ended too. I wasn’t the daughter of a Death Eater and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I was the daughter of Walt and Elizabeth. And that was enough

“Goodbye my love,” My mother said softly. “I’ll always be around.” 

“Bye mum,” I smiled as she wiped away my tears. “I love you,” 

“I love you too sweetheart,” 

I waved goodbye, and with a spell, she was gone. I turned to go inside. The door clicked softly behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Professor McGonagall?” My brows pulled together. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” 

“This is a summons for you,” She held out a parchment, the usual stern look on her face was replaced with pity. 

I took the parchment and opened it, scanning the delicate print. My heart sank. 

“This is… this—“ I gaped. 

“I’m afraid so,” McGonagall sighed. “There was nothing I could do,” 

“Draco?” I called into the house. He was beside me in a moment. I handed him the parchment. “This is serious?” She nodded again. 

“I’m sorry my dear,” 

“A court summons? They’re putting her in trial!?” Draco demanded. 

“Kingsley is very set on it. And he is the new Minister,” 

“I saved the school! I helped defeat the Dark Lord! I—really!?” Tears pricked my eyes. 

“There’s got to be some mistake,” Draco insisted. “She’s not a Death Eater, she doesn’t even have the mark!” 

“I’m sure that the ministry will see that, but I’m afraid that I cannot do anything about the summons,” 

I scrubbed my face and sighed. “Thank you Professor. Can I invite you in for some tea?” 

“That’s very kind dear, but I’m afraid I must be on my way,” She bowed slightly then disaperated from the porch. 

I stood there a while, lost in my thoughts. Draco gave me a gentle squeeze and kissed the crown of my head before disappearing inside. My feet took me off the wood of the porch and into the softness of the grass. I sank to the ground beside a fence post. The sun began to set. My eyes watched the horizon. Millions of thoughts swirled around my mind with no discernible direction. 

Was there even a case for me to be innocent? Is this what everything I had worked for come to? To be seen as a criminal for holding a crumbling cause together? 

____________________

“Where is she?” Abby asked, helping Pansy through the fireplace. 

“Out front, watching the sunset,” Draco sighed, opening the front door. “She’s been out there a while,” 

“Can’t imagine why,” Pansy muttered. “They’re seriously putting her on trial?” 

“Yep,” Draco sighed. “All this time I thought I’d be the one, and yet…” 

“I’ll go talk to her,” Abby kissed Pansy’s cheek. “You guys get to work,” 

“Thank you, both,” Relief flooded Draco’s voice. 

Abby snagged an old afghan off the back of the armchair and went out through the small meadow. She draped the blanket around your shoulders and sat beside you in the grass. You laid your head on her shoulder. She could see the dried tear tracks on your cheeks. 

“How—how could they do this?” Your weak voice held deep betrayal. 

“I don’t know,” Abby answered honestly, taking your hand into hers. “But we’re not going to let them get away with it.” 

“I don’t—I can’t defend myself in court—I,” You dissolved into tears. “Haven’t I done enough?” 

“More than enough,” Abby affirmed. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna work it out—you’ll see,” 

“How?” You asked. 

“Well, you’ve gathered quite a few allies who owe you once or twice,” Abby pointed out. “And others who just love you anyway. Draco and Pansy are working on it now,” 

“Wha—what?” 

“We’re gonna build your case,” Abby promised. “And get you acquitted.”  

“They’re…” A sad laugh left your lips. You laid back on the grass. Abby knew you were searching for the first stars in twilight. 

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abby smiled at you. “Just rest,” 

The days past and my trial date approached like a storm on the horizon—but whether it was just rain or a hurricane, I couldn’t tell. Draco assured me that it would all be okay—he tried to tell me about everything done to build my case, but I wasn’t interested. Grateful, thoroughly, but I knew that if I learned anything about it, I would pick it up myself and try to fix it and my weary heart couldn’t handle that and keep beating like it was supposed to. 

So, I dressed smartly and took Draco’s hand before we took the Floo to the Ministry. I kept my head low, and tears at bay. 

Though Draco, Abby and Pansy accompanied me into the court room, I had to sit alone for the trial. The distance was drowning. I sat in the hard wooden chair, facing malice and prejudices. Kingsley looked almost predatory, as if he could pin the entire war on my shoulders, casting the blame on me. 

I flinched as the charges were read against me. The list of dead was longer than I thought. I didn’t dwell on the days of the Battle of Hogwarts, nor the events that occurred. They haunted me in my dreams, make no mistake, but what was real and what was a nightmare I lost the ability to discern. 

Was that much blood really on my hands? 

My faith in myself began to waver. Maybe I did deserve to be locked up. A few years in Azkaban with dementors sucking my life force might make me forget what I had done. 

Surprise flickered on my face as I saw Remus Lupin stand to my defense as an attorney. It was the first time that I had actually taken note of who was in the room. There had to be at least thirty people all gathered behind Draco and Pansy that I could see—more filed out the door in the back. All faces of those I loved, I had fought beside, I had grown up with. 

The static in my ears tuned in and out of Lupin and Kingsley conversing. It wasn’t until their voices raised to shouting that the static was drowned out. My eyes flickered up from he thread in my hands. 

“She cast unforgivables! She killed! She’s dangerous!”

“Death Eaters who were threatening our lives! The lives of wizard kind everywhere! She stopped a genocide!” Remus shouted back, obviously frustrated. “She showed remarkable strength and courage in a time of great darkness, and you will not diminish that.” 

“They are unforgivables! We have laws for a reason!”

“If I may,” McGonagall stood and the entire room quieted. “That list of names that you read was a long list of Death Eaters who have either escaped from Azkaban, or are known Death Eaters and have killed before. Miss Y/n had very hard decisions to make. The ministry found itself incompetent for lack of a better word. She, along with her friends, engineered an army to face the Dark Lord. Over the years what she went through has turned her into who she is today. She fought along side the other heroes who stand before you. She will be counted among them. You would not punish an Auror for the same thing and you will not punish her.”

“But—” Kingsley was red in the face. 

“If you put her in jail, you put the rest of the rebellion too,” The voice that piped up from the crowd surprised me. It was Harry. He stood and all eyes went to him. “Without her, I never would have been able to defeat Voldemort. Dozens more would be dead. You send her to Azkaban… then you’ll send me too,” A hushed gasp filled the room. A small one escaped my own lips.

“Mr. Potter,” Kingsley tried to regain control of the room. 

“And me,” Abby spoke up. 

“And me,” Neville stood. 

Soon everyone around me was standing on my behalf. Pansy, Luna, Ginny, all of the Weasleys actually, Ernie, Hannah, Emme, Blaise, Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fleur, Tonks, Remus, McGonagall, Moody, Sprout, Flitwick, and others I couldn’t see in the vast room. Kingsley faltered at the large defense behind me. 

“You send her then you send each one of us,” Harry spoke clearly. “I’m your stupid chosen one, even if she did something wrong, don’t I have clearance to pardon her or something?” 

A smile crossed my face. Intense silence stretched on consuming time and space until it was suffocating me. 

“Very well,” Kingsley sank back into his chair. “Y/n you have been cleared of all charges and sentencing. You are free to go,” 

Relief flooded through me as the room erupted in cheers. I met Draco’s eyes and he was smiling with pride. I collapsed back into that wooden chair in tears. There was a swarm of people around me, all making sure that I was alright, but they all parted for Draco to reach me. 

“Love?” He asked softly, kneeling before me. “I’m here,” He pulled me into his arms and we shared the embrace of lovers. As I exhaled, the weight of the world fell to the floor. 

I was free. 

I was acquitted. 

Now, I just had to find my innocence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Draco?” It was a crisp autumn morning. He looked up from the newspaper. “I’ve been thinking,” 

He smiled and set down the paper, giving me his full attention. I almost wished he didn’t. 

“I… I know it’s been a long road here… and since we’ve met it’s kinda been hell.” A sad laugh left my lips. “There’s a whole world out there Draco,” My eyes flickered to the willow growing outside the kitchen window. 

“Yeah?” He prompted softly. 

“Don’t you want to go see it? Be young and reckless and not have to feel like—like you’re running an entire school?” I gestured. 

“I do,” He confessed softly. “We are still young Y/n, we have a long life ahead of us,” 

“…You still want it with me?” I felt as if the oxygen was being vacuumed from my lungs. “We were just kids when we met Draco. We went through a war together—and now it’s over. The war. You don’t have to stay here,” This house was just as haunted as I was.

“What—where is this coming from?” Draco stood, rounding the small breakfast table. “I want to be with you. I want to share my life with you,” He took my hands into his. “So, let’s go travel the world together—learn who we are outside of the war.” 

Hope sparked in my chest. “Really?” 

He laughed softly. “Oh my darling, you are one of my best friends, I’ll go anywhere with you,” His words lured me to melt into his warm embrace. We sat on the kitchen floor. He stroked my hair softly. 

“Just for a while,” I mumbled. “There’s so much we haven’t seen,” 

“I know,” The smile was evident in his voice. “And it’s going to be incredible—and we’re going to learn how to heal along the way,” I nodded into his shoulder. 

“I was thinking about maybe even living muggle for a little bit,” The confession was a weight from my shoulders. “I need space.” 

“Okay,” His soft agreeable caught me off guard. “I think it would be good for both of us actually. And maybe even fun,” 

I laughed softly as tears formed in my eyes. Leaning against him I watched the morning sun move across the wooden floor. 

“I love you,” I whispered softly. “And if you… if I’m not…”

“Hush,” it was a soft reprimand. “I think you’re right. We need time away from it all. To find who we are away from it all,” 

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll come back,” I promised. 

“I know we will,” Draco smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Knowing you, you’ll want to come back and help build a better system,” 

My cheeks flushed red. I hadn’t told anyone about my ideas to make Hogwarts better—to make the Ministry better, hell to even make Azkaban better. It was time for things to change. I smiled to myself. Maybe I was more rebellious than I thought. 

And yet, Draco knew—he knew all the little plans in my head that were hidden just for me. Being known felt like belonging—and I belonged with him. 

**********************************

Traveling with Draco would always be saved in my memories until I died, and when it started to slip, it would be saved into a pensieve. I wouldn’t forget. 

We bought a muggle car and drove it until it felt right to stop. It wasn’t the famous places where we found ourselves, rather it was the forgotten places where we felt most at home. Where I could stand on a cliff edge and just scream and laugh and no one was around to hear me. Where Draco and I would sit at the edge of a river and send down leaves that held our biggest regrets, our losses, and our fears, learning to let go. Where we would sit in cafes and draw what we saw around us and enjoy pastries and tea. Where we could dance in the middle of a crowded room with other couples who didn’t know us from Adam. 

But that is a story for another time. 

For now, I’m sure you have a burning question that you’ve been waiting for me to answer. 

And yes. 

Draco did take me to go and see Phantom of the Opera in Paris like he promised. 

Oh, and we got married.

But, again, that is a story for another time. 

There is one last person I want you to meet before I close. 

**********************************

My heart caught in my throat. 

“Draco?” I squeaked out, leaning against the bathroom counter. “Draco!” 

“What? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He was frantic, looking for danger. 

“I’m… pregnant,” I whispered, looking at him in wonder. “Draco… I’m—“

“Holy harpies,” 

Realization flickered across his face as it rose into an elated expression of joy. A victorious laugh as he scooped me up and twirled me around our lavish bathroom, in our muggle flat in the suburbs of London. His joy was contagious as I giggled in his arms, holding onto him. He set me down, stroking my face softly. Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

Draco must have seen some fear linger in my stare. Some uncertainty that was well justified. 

“The war is over,” Draco reassured drawing me back into his arms. “They’ll be safe. We’ll make sure of it,” 

I nodded, curling my fingers into his sweater, my smile returning. 

“I’m gonna be a mum,” I laughed. 

“And you’re going to be absolutely brilliant.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Absolutely brilliant.” 

“And you’re gonna be a great dad,” Tears pricked my eyes. “God, I don’t know the first thing about being a parent,” A nervous giggle left my lips. 

“We’ll learn and figure it out,” He stroked my cheek softly, stealing another kiss. 

A thousand parenting books, a baby shower, and a few doctors appointments later, Draco and I were curled up on the couch in our flat as the fire crackled in the hearth. 

We had yet to settle on a name—to be fair we narrowed it down a lot, but with every new suggestion came a new round of anxiety that it wouldn’t be just right. It left me up at all hours thinking of it; so much so that Draco had to find a pregnancy safe sleeping potion so I could get proper rest. 

“Elizabeth?” Draco mused, after my mother. I pursed my lips. It had been a suggestion that circled around. 

“I’d like it as a middle name,” I decided, the thought had been mulling over in my mind. 

“Okay done,” He smiled, reaching over to stroke my stomach before resuming his massage of my sore feet. 

“Still need a first name.” I pondered, leaning my head against the back of the couch. “Narcissa?”

Draco snorted. “I’m not calling our daughter by my mothers name,” 

My heart fluttered when he said our daughter. 

“Well we need something,” 

“How about Lucy?” That was a new suggestion: one not voiced by either of us. 

“If that’s some way to get me to name her after your father I swear to Merlin—“

Draco burst out laughing shaking his head. 

“Godric, no. Ugh,” he chuckled. “No, love, Lucy as in the first one to find Narnia. Ya know, that book you read to me all those years ago. The current theme of our nursery?” 

“Oh,” my eyes widened at the thought, my heart softening. “Lucy,” I looked down, caressing my stomach when I felt something odd. Frowning I pressed my palm over the area. Draco caught my confusion and grew very concerned. 

“What? Is she alright? What wrong?” 

“Nothing,” I grinned. “She’s kicking—I think she likes her name,” I reached out for his hand and placed it in the same spot where mine resided as I felt her kick again. 

“Hello little Lucy,” Draco whispered softly. “I can’t wait to meet you,” 

Tears pricked my eyes as I watched him talk to her softly. And like every night, Draco got up and made me my tea that had Sleeping Draught in it—which he brewed specifically for me. It reminded me of our school days when he would spend class time brewing me anti-anxiety potions. It warmed my heart that his habit didn’t wane even with the years past.

That night my eyes fluttered open. I woke in the night, barely awake and ready to fall asleep again when I heard a soft voice. At first I thought Draco was trying to speak to me but I quickly realized that he was talking to someone else. 

“You’re going to be one of the greatest wizards to ever walk the earth,” he murmured softly. “You’ll be kind and smart like your mother. You’re going to love her so much. We already love you so much.” 

I let my eyes drift closed as a smile touched my lips. I resisted the urge to reach out and take Draco’s hand, in fear that he might become bashful about the situation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A small bundle of warmth rested on my chest, peacefully sleeping. My hand rose and cradled the small thing, tears pricking my eyes. My other hand was still clinging to Draco’s. 

 Lucy Elizabeth Malfoy. 

There were tears in Draco’s eyes as he reached out and with the softest touch caressed her tiny head. 

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured. “You did so well,” 

Exhausted, I let my eyes close, knowing that all was right with the world. Lucy would grow up in a world free from the threat of Voldemort and Draco would be by my side to protect her. We had already bled and fought and now we would make this new world we fought for, right for her. 

A new legacy. 

A new hope. 

.

masterlist

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more like this:

two by two

Beautifully Beastly

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[discoscoob]

✧ ˚ BREAK THE CHAIN

˙ ✩°˖🏛️ ⋆｡˚ Donnie Barksdale x Reader x Kevin Lomax

CW: toxic and abusive marriage, physical abuse, possessive and jealous behaviour, threats of violence.

Synopsis: during the turmoil of your divorce proceedings against your abusive husband, you and your lawyer confront your husband's relentless refusal to accept the end of your marriage. 2.6k words.

˙ ✩°˖🏛️ ⋆｡˚

“How can he do this? How can he get away with spewing such venomous lies about me? He knows the truth. He knows what he put me through. Why can’t he just admit it?!” you emerge from the courthouse, alongside your lawyer Kevin, trying to seek some reassurance after yet another gruelling day in your divorce hearing. You’re on the verge of tears, wondering how much more of this you can take before you reach breaking point.

In a desperate attempt to tarnish your reputation and undermine your credibility, your soon-to-be-ex-husband, Donnie, and his sleaze-ball of a lawyer, hurled accusations of infidelity and deceit against you, claiming that any abuse you endured during your marriage had not been at the hands of your husband. His entire defence was built on a lie, shifting the accusation of abuse onto fabricated lovers, stating that you were trying to pin the blame on him and make him out to be a monster.

The touch of Kevin’s hand grounds you, takes control and pulls you back to reality before you spiral any further. Gently brushing the soft pad of his thumb against your knuckles, you can’t help but compare how smooth and gentle his hands feel to the rough and calloused texture you were used to feeling from Donnie’s.

“Listen to me,” Kevin’s velvet tone pulls your focus away from your intertwined hands and you look up into his gentle eyes that are full of calm determination. “Donnie is grasping at straws, he can make as many accusations as he pleases just don’t let them get to you. These claims only show how desperate he is to regain control over the narrative. His lies hold no weight in the eyes of the law, they’re nothing but baseless accusations. We have the truth on our side, nothing can change that.”

“What if the truth isn’t enough?” you worry, casting your gaze downward. Your mind is plagued with doubt, brought on by the accusations of betrayal to dismantle your claims of abuse.

“Trust me, Y/N,” Kevin gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb to guide your gaze back towards him. “I’ve got this, alright? Donnie will slip up eventually.” promise radiates from his gaze, while he speaks with unwavering confidence.

For Kevin, litigating a case is like playing chess, he has the skill to anticipate every move the opposition will make and he has every counterattack planned in advance. He knows when to sit back and observe and when to strike, possessing the ability to unravel an opponents case with strategic attacks that ultimately secure victories for his clients. He has no reason to believe this case will be any different.

You draw strength from Kevin’s optimism, like a soothing balm over your doubts and anxieties, once again the gentle brush of his thumb against your knuckles grounds you.

“If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I could get through this.” you mumble as you rest your forehead against Kevin’s shoulder, in return you feel his arm wrap around you, offering the comfort you were seeking.

“Enough of that,” Kevin’s melodic accent whispers in your ear, soft and mellow, as he pulls you closer. “You’re strong, Y/N, stronger than you know, you hear me? I’ll be by your side you every step of the way but don’t for a second underestimate your own strength and resilience.”

Before you can respond, the shrill sound of Kevin’s ringtone interrupts the moment. Withdrawing his embrace, he digs into his suit pocket to pull out his phone and inspect the caller ID.

“I oughta take this real quick. Wait right here, I won’t be a minute.” he sighs while offering an apologetic glance for the disturbance. Your focus lingers on Kevin as he jogs down the remaining steps of the courthouse to take his call in private.

As you stand alone, your attention focused on Kevin as he takes his call, Donnie lurks in the distance, like a predator stalking its prey. His menacing glare is pinned directly on you as he seizes the opportunity and closes in on you. Only once his rough grip is sending a jolt of pain through your arm, do you realise you’re no longer alone.

“We need us a li’l chat away from all these folk tryna fill your head with bullshit.” Donnie’s menacing drawl growls in your ear, dripping with venom as he roughly hauls you to the secluded side of the courthouse, away from prying eyes.

“That slick-talkin’ lawyers got some nerve wrappin’ his arms ‘round what don’t belong to him, I reckon he’s tryna steal you away from me.” Donnie’s rugged face is inches from yours as he cages you in against the red brick wall. “Now you might think I’m stupid but I ain’t blind to what’s been happenin’. You and that fancy lawyer of yours been fuckin’ for months behind my back, ain’t that right?”

“No, Donnie.” your breath shudders through your quivering voice as your estranged husband intimidatingly looms over you. “You’re wrong.”

“Bullshit, Y/N!” Donnie’s tone is laced with distrust as he narrows his suspicious eyes down at you. “Ain’t no way you’d be divorcin’ me if it weren’t for that son-of-a-bitch tryna lead you astray. He’s the one behind this whole fuckin’ mess, whispering his poison in your ear since the start, ‘cause I know you ain’t got the money for no know-it-all lawyer like him, so somethin’ ain’t adding up right.”

“Donnie, that’s enough. Let her go.” Your heart leaps at the sound of Kevin’s commanding voice breaking through the tense atmosphere.

Donnie’s head whips around in the lawyers direction with thunderous expression. “Mind your business, Lomax. This is between me and my wife.”

“It is my business when someone’s threatening my client.” Kevin stands his ground as he confidently steps between you and Donnie. “Now leave her alone otherwise you’ll leave me no choice but to get the police involved. And I’ll give you this tip for free, Donnie — getting arrested for harassment sure as shit ain’t gonna do your case any favours. So if I were you, I’d be on my way.”

With a huff through his flared nostrils and his chest heaving with rage, Donnie begrudgingly relents and takes a step back. “This ain’t over, you hear me?” he stubbornly reminds you both as he takes leisurely steps back with his chin raised in defiance. “I’ll be damned if I let any man think he can steal what’s mine.”

With one final menacing glare, Donnie storms off towards his pickup truck leaving you trembling against the brick wall as all the tension floods out your body. Kevin’s arms are around you within an instant, offering you the security and care you desperately need.

“Told you he’d slip up, didn’t I?” Kevin’s voice carries a subtle note of triumph as he rests his chin against the top of your head.

˙ ✩°˖🏛️ ⋆｡˚

“Mr. Barksdale, earlier in this trial, you made some rather bold accusations against my client, Mrs. Y/N Barksdale. Accusations of infidelity and deceit. Is that correct?” With a professional tone, Kevin addresses Donnie, who is sitting at the witness stand.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Donnie responds as he shifts uncomfortably, his dark eyes bounce between you and Kevin.

“And yet, despite the seriousness of these accusations, you have provided no evidence to support these claims.” Kevin confidently paces in front of the witness stand but his challenging glare never leaves Donnie. “Meanwhile my client, Mrs. Barksdale has provided the court with medical records documenting incidents of abuse at your hands.”

You notice a subtle twitch on Donnie’s face as he momentarily glances away, a sight you were all too familiar with when he was trying to hold back the anger that was starting to boil beneath the surface.

“Just ‘cause she got some bruises don’t mean I put them there.” Donnie shrugs, triggering an uncomfortable twist in your gut as you watch him so nonchalantly reject accountability for the hell he put you through.

"Mr. Barksdale, the medical records clearly indicate patterns of injury consistent with physical abuse," Kevin rebuts, while maintaining a firm and professional manner. "These are not just 'some bruises.' They are documented evidence of repeated incidents of violence against my client."

"Just 'cause she's got some marks, suddenly it's all my fault?” he scoffs, his voice laced with contempt. “Them injuries could've come from any one of them men she was runnin' around with behind my back.”

“You know, Mr. Barksdale, it's getting rather tiresome hearing about these mysterious lovers of Mrs. Barksdale's that you've yet to prove the existence of.” Kevin rolls his eyes as a note of boredom enters his tone.

Donnie’s jaw clenches tightly as he glares at Kevin, fury burning within the dark shadows of his eyes and his nostrils flaring as he barely maintains his composer. A pulsating vein on the side of his neck displays the rage that is threatening to erupt at any moment. Donnie decides to keep his lips sealed.

“Mr. Barksdale, during your marriage to Mrs. Y/N Barksdale, did you ever exhibit signs of jealousy or possessiveness.” Kevin smoothly continues his cross examination, undeterred by Donnie’s visible signs of anger.

Donnie’s face twitches with irritation as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his darkened gaze briefly flickers in your direction before settling back on Kevin.

“I fail to see how it’s any of your damn business.” Donnie’s voice is twinged with the slightest hint of a growl as his chest starts visibly heaving with his poorly concealed rage.

“Order!” The judge immediately scolds Donnie for the slip of his tongue. “Answer the question, Mr. Barksdale.”

“I reckon every man’s got a right to protect what belongs to him.” Donnie finally admits through thinly veiled irritation.

“Is that what you call it, Mr. Barksdale?” Kevin leans forward slightly, as he steps closer to the witness stand. “Is that what you were doing yesterday, outside this very courthouse, when you forcibly hauled my client out of sight of any potential witnesses and pinned her against a wall with the intention of intimidating her?”

Leaning forward in his seat, Donnie grips the edge of the witness stand until his knuckles turn white. “You got some goddamn nerve twistin’ the truth like that.” his menacing voice rises with fury. “I was tryna have a private conversation with my wife but you can’t resist stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong. You’re nothin’ but a snake in a fancy suit, tryna fill my wife’s head with your poison and steal her away for yourself but I ain’t gonna let you have her. She’s my goddamn wife! Mine! She belongs to me and no ones gonna tell me any different!”

“Order!” once again the judge pipes up with an authoritative tone, trying to control Donnie’s outburst. “Mr. Barksdale, I will not tolerate that kind of hostility in my court! This is your final warning.”

“Your honour, I believe Mr. Barksdale’s temperament speaks for itself,” Kevin calmly addresses the judge in a composed manner. “His outburst here today offers us a glimpse at the mere surface of the ongoing abuse and intimation my client has endured throughout her marriage to Mr. Barksdale. I have no further questions.”

“Mr. Barksdale, you are on thin ice. One more outburst like that, and I will hold you in contempt of court. Do you understand?” The judge turns to Donnie with a disapproving frown after acknowledging Kevin’s statement.

Donnie offers the judge a curt nod, but the his clenched jaw and sneering expression betray the anger that is still running through his veins like boiling hot magma.

As soon as Kevin sits back down beside you, your hand is immediately enveloped by his, the soft touch is a soothing comfort easing the discomfort and tension that still lingers within from Donnie’s outburst.

“You alright?” Kevin whispers, his eyes radiating concern as gives your hand a gentle squeeze, understanding how triggering hearing Donnie’s outburst might have been for you. When you offer him a silent nod, he sends you a wink that you find comforting, as it showcases his ease and confidence. “It’s almost over now.”

˙ ✩°˖🏛️ ⋆｡˚

“After careful consideration of the evidence presented in this case, it is clear to this court that Mrs. Y/N Barksdale has endured significant hardship and abuse at the hands of her husband, Mr. Donnie Barksdale. Therefore, it is the ruling of this court that the divorce petition filed by Mrs. Y/N Barksdale be granted. Additionally, a restraining order shall be issued against Mr. Donnie Barksdale, prohibiting any contact with Mrs. Barksdale or her immediate family. Furthermore, Mr. Donnie Barksdale shall be required to undergo anger management counselling and attend regular check-ins with a court-appointed counsellor to ensure compliance with the terms of this ruling.” As the judge announces the ruling, a wave of overwhelming relief rips through your body. Raising a trembling hand to you mouth you sob into your palm as you look at Kevin, just to make sure you are hearing correctly.

The smile of triumph Kevin’s face is enough to confirm that you weren’t imagining it, as sobs of relief continue to shake through you, Kevin pulls you into his embrace. Leaving a kiss on your forehead, his soft hand gently strokes your back, soothing the overwhelming emotion that has taken over your senses. His comforting clean scent envelopes you as you burrow into the crook of his neck and wrap your own arms around his shoulders.

“Let’s get you outta here.” Kevin whispers in your ear, before he helps you out your seat, a sturdy arm around your waist keeping you steady. Only once your on your feet do you realise Donnie is being restrained by security as his fury filled eyes glare daggers at you full of unrestrained rage and malice.

“You filthy whore! You connivin’ bitch! You think you can just walk away from me?!” Donnie’s thunderous voice echos through the courtroom as he’s held back by two security guards, his body thrashing to escape their unyielding hold. His long hair flying around his face as he spits and snarls like a wild beast. “You’ll never get rid of me! You and that damn fuckin’ snake of a lawyer! I’ll hunt you both down, you fuckin’ hear me?”

Kevin tries to get you away from the commotion as quickly as possible with a protective arm around you, urging you to not look at your now ex-husband as he swiftly ushers you out of the courthouse.

As the sunlight strokes your face, you take a deep breath of the cool breeze that welcomes you like a reprieve, sweeping away any echo of Donnie’s rage that still rung in your ears. You lean into Kevin’s side, grateful for his steady and calm presence beside you.

“You’re free now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Kevin whispers into your ear with a confident assurance, dismissing the validity of Donnie’s threats. When you lean your head against his shoulder, he cups the nape of your neck before leaving a tender kiss on your temple.

“I wanna get away from here.” you whisper, as Kevin gently tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze.

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.” Kevin promises without any hesitation, “just tell me where.”

Kevin’s promise makes anything seem possible, like no dream is too big and by his side you truly feel like the world is your oyster.

“I’ve always wanted to visit New York…” you look up at Kevin, your eyes over brimming with hope for a new beginning.

“New York it is.” Kevin smiles down at you, mirroring the yearning for an adventure in your eyes and he takes your hand in his and leads you towards his convertible.

⋆｡°✩ note i: in the beginning I kinda wanted to leave Kevin and readers relationship up to interpretation but I think that ending gives away the fact that they’re a little more than just lawyer and client.

⋆｡°✩ note ii: I have an idea for a prequel revolved around how Kevin and reader met and began their affair which I might work on depending on the response to this fic!

[bokuroar]

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂!! 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 & 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 “oh.” 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻t (pt. 2)

↬ you can find part 1 here ♡ i was supposed to use another song but i wanted to stick with the theme of the first part ^^ enjoy !

↬ hq characters (osamu, iwaizumi, kenma, daichi) x gn!reader

ꕤ you open the door to welcome osamu and the heavy grocery bags he cradles in his arms. without so much as saying hello, he automatically lets himself in kicking his shoes off in your apartment. with stuffy nose you ask him, “what’re you doing here at 10 in the morning? doesn’t your shop open at 9?” osamu chuckles, his warm smile spreading across his face. "it does, but i couldn't stay away any longer, you’re a mess who needs to eat." he jests. throughout the day, osamu stays by your side, bringing you comfort and joy with every gesture. he makes you soup, entertains you with funny videos thanks to his twin, and even brings over a stack of your favorite books to read together. it’s like he knows exactly what you need without you having to say a word. oh.

ꕤ “we better walk fast, ‘zumi. looks like it’s gonna pour anytime soon.” you mumble as you look up to the looming clouds and instinctively reach your hand out to feel any droplets. iwaizumi brings out his old, trusted, albeit rusty umbrella that you swear he had since god knows when. he sheepishly smiles, “can’t have you sick now, can we?” as you continue walking, you engage in light banter and reminisce about old times. the conversation flows effortlessly, just like it always does when you're together. "you remember that time we got caught in a torrential downpour during our first year of high school?" iwaizumi asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "how could i forget? good thing we found that cafe to hide in until the rain stopped.” you reply. "yeah, and then we spent hours talking and laughing we didn't notice they needed to close the shop." iwaizumi recalls fondly and adds, "that was the day i knew we'd be friends for a long time." he smiles warmly, his gaze softening as he looks at you. uh oh.

ꕤ “ah, am i hearing this right? the kodzuken challenging me to beat him in a video game?!” you jokingly gasp at your longtime friend, kenma, who only rolled his eyes at your mockery. “stop acting weird, this won’t be the first time i beat you,” he smirks. you grin, accepting the challenge with a competitive glint in your eye. the game began and you both immersed yourselves in the virtual world. as the match progressed, you notice kenma's occasional slip-ups, as if he was letting you win. "are you sure you're not going easy on me?" you tease. he blushes slightly, trying to hide his intentions. "you wish. you just had practice," he replies, his eyes betraying a hint of affection. after a thrilling game, you emerged victorious. "looks like you owe me that boba," you retort playfully, savoring the taste of triumph. in that moment, kenma smiles, realizing that he felt more of a winner in making you smile than winning a video game. oh no.

ꕤ holidays are better spent with people. the more the merrier, at least that’s what daichi’s household believes in. and his big family isn’t enough, daichi always celebrates with his close friends—including you. amidst the ongoing debate which is the best christmas dessert, he turns to you, "i’m so glad you could make it today. my family loves having you around during celebrations." you smile warmly, "i wouldn't miss it for the world, dai. your family and our friends always make these holidays unforgettable." as the holiday cheer enveloped the room, daichi's eyes were fixed on you as you engage with his younger siblings. you had picked out thoughtful gifts for each of them, and he watches with a mix of fondness and admiration as they unwrapped your presents, their faces lighting up with joy and gratitude. he could get used to this. oh?

© bokuroar (2023) – do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, repost my work on other sites without permission.

a/n: i can’t not write this bec of the love the part 1 got T____T i wanna hug all of u !! thank u !!! 🥹🤎 ik this took such a long time but still hope you liked reading this just as much hehehe <3

thanks for stopping by ☕️ talk to me?

[youryurigoddess]

The stuff dreams are made of, or the interesting case of Anthony J. Crowley

We’ve talked a bit about Crowley’s trauma and his way of reclaiming the narrative in the past, but it’s time for some deep dive into the story he’s trying to tell. A story that meanders through the fabric of time and space, slightly changing with the human fashion trends, but slowly and surely bringing the demon closer to a certain angel like the red thread of fate.

1793

Some stories start in a garden, some even Before the Beginning, but this one starts with an Arrangement. Or, to be precise, a little bit after that.

See, most of the iterations of Crowley we saw throughout the history until then didn’t delve too deep into human cultural tropes. If anything, they were the inspirations behind more or less prominent biblical figures, maybe some nameless villains matching his demonic provenance and role assigned to him by his employers.

But in the hustle and bustle of the revolutionary Paris, Crowley emerges as a prototype of the Scarlet Pimpernel — a chivalrous Englishman who rescues aristocrats before they are sent to the guillotine. Stan Lee famously called him “the first character who could be called a superhero”.

Sir Percy Blakeney, the main character of the novel and the West End play under the same title, leads a double life. Appearing as nothing more than a wealthy fop, in reality he’s a formidable swordsman, a quick-thinking master of disguise and an escape artist. Even his own wife, Marguerite, has no idea.

Unfortunately Marguerite is being blackmailed with her brother’s life to find and expose the wanted Pimpernel. She regrets betraying her husband the moment she's forced to do it and spends the rest of the plot working to save him. She does, they make up, and return together to England.

In Aziraphale and Crowley’s case there was just a short stop for crêpes. But what seems to be an inspiration of a specific scene might as well come up later in the wider perspective of the show, so keep in mind those fragments of the musical’s libretto:

We all are caught in the middle

of one long treacherous riddle.

Can I trust you?

Should you trust me too?...

We shamble on through this hell

taking on more secrets to sell

'til there comes a day

when we sell our souls away.

We seek him here, we seek him there,

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!

Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?

Where is that damn elusive Pimpernel!

1941

The London Blitz is when we see a full-fledged iteration of the superhero Crowley performing dashing and heroic deeds under the literal cover of darkness and air bomb smoke. In a bespoke double-breasted suit and a fedora — still free from the unfortunate modern connotations from the internet culture — he’s clearly channeling Humphrey Bogart as a private investigator Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941) now.

It all starts with a woman and a simple plan gone wrong: Spade’s partner is shot dead, just like the man he was supposed to be tailing upon the request of a mysterious Miss Wonderly. And when a very soft-looking, sweet-scented man named Joel Cairo appears in his office willing to pay a hefty price for a "black figure of a bird", Spade starts not only a new job, but also his own quest for truth.

On the surface, The Maltese Falcon ends happily: the killer gets caught, and the hero winds up with the Falcon. But Spade's victory is completely hollow. The Falcon itself, originally meant as a symbol of loyalty, transforms into a symbol of a corrupting, futile, and self-destructive greed that makes people betray their own loyalties.

The treasure is just a worthless forgery and he’s fallen in love with the criminal — one of the first femmes fatales on screen. Despite his feelings for her and a kiss, Spade gives her up and submits the statuette as evidence, describing it as "the stuff that dreams are made of".

Remember the eagle lectern? The eagle was believed to be flying highest in the sky and therefore closest to heaven, symbolizing the carrying of the word of God to the four corners of the world. Aziraphale in the 1941 church scene is the closest to Heaven we’ve seen him on Earth. Just look at him: dressed in a smart, well-fitted coat with peaked lapels, symbolizing his Heavenly allegiance, and doing good this time not as a work assignment, but of his own accord. Being the closest to Heaven means the furthest and most unattainable for a demon like Crowley.

The Maltese Falcon is a metaphor for unattainability — things out of reach to desire and fight for, although never truly possess. It’s “the stuff that dreams are made of”. But Crowley secured the original — made of gold and encrusted with jewels, but hiding its real value under black enamel — eerily reminiscent of the demon himself and the unending kindness behind his inappropriately tight black clothing.

Quoting Michael Ralph — the production mastermind behind Good Omens — from the S01E04 “Saturday Morning Funtime” DVD commentary, “We wanted to tip our hat to the Maltese Falcon as being a precious object that no-one thought really exists but it does”. So we can safely assume that Crowley can and will achieve his dream in the future.

1967

Do you know what else happens in 1941 in Scotland? Ian Fleming, a British naval intelligence agent, meets with the famous occultist Aleister Crowley and asks him to lead the interrogation of newly imprisoned Rudolf Hess — a leading member of the Nazi Party in Nazi Germany appointed Deputy Führer — given the two men’s shared enthusiasm for the occult.

This meeting has a significant impact on Fleming’s work as a writer; Aleister Crowley becomes the inspiration for his first villain Le Chiffre and creates a blueprint for most of the James Bond’s franchise ever since 1953, the publication date of the novel Casino Royale.

Meanwhile our Anthony J. Crowley believes in himself not being the villain he’s usually and sometimes forcefully painted as, but a superhero in disguise. The character of James Bond in particular inspires him so much that he buys petrol to get the limited You Only Live Twice (1967) window decals for his Bentley, dons his own tactical turtleneck, and sets off to organize a heist like no other. Sean Connery style.

Like a typical superhero, Crowley’s once again both saved and betrayed by his love interest. Aziraphale leaves him with a thermos of Holy Water, a faint smile, and a hope that they’ll soon match their speeds to meet halfway at the Ritz. The cancelled heist is not an ending, but a promise of a new beginning. And the fact that UK decriminalizes homosexual acts in the very same year is more than telling in this regard.

2019

An exceptional situation calls for exceptional solutions, and what’s more important than the impending Apocalypse? Demon Crowley does his best to put the arsenal of his 20th century film inspirations to good use.

"Ask yourself, do you feel lucky?" Crowley drawls, clearly imitating (although slightly misquoting) the titular Dirty Harry (1971). He’s hoping to be menacing and making the point of being the one on the right side of the law and history.

Some situations require more than quoting action heroes is not everything though. He knows what to do:

A jeep was heading purposefully towards the gate, and it looked as though it was crowded with people who were about to shout questions and fire guns and not worry about which order they did this in.

[Crowley] brightened up. This was more what you might call his area of competence.

He took his hands out of his pockets and he raised them like Bruce Lee and then he smiled like Lee Van Cleef.

'Ah,' he said, 'here comes transport.'

When in doubt, Crowley acts. He transforms into a combination of a stoic martial arts phenomenon and a sardonic, menacing character. His smile alone — even on Aziraphale’s angelic face, as seen in one of the final cut scenes — seems to be enough to ward off evil spirits, angels, and humans alike.

But we all know that even as breathtaking performances as those can’t protect anyone from the cogs of the Heavenly machine and its plans.

2023

No wonder that Crowley’s tactical turtleneck comes back in style after mere four years of retirement with a self-introduction “Former Demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”. Something has changed during this time; he’s more mature now, not playing pretend by hiding behind the usual veneer of sarcasm and movie quotes anymore. Finally comfortable with the fact that this is his own story and there’s no need to become anyone else than himself.

The bookshop fire and the Heavenly trial still seem to haunt the demon in a way that makes him realize what all humans know: that every hero is his own biggest enemy. His ultimate dream might effortlessly change into his greatest nightmare any moment now, and the only thing he can do about it is hover in a two-minute distance from the epicenter of his feelings. But Crowley has no time to work on it when a new mission appears, to protect his angel from Gabriel and the combined powers of Heaven and Hell. Even if this — rather ostentatiously — is the last thing he wants to think about at the moment.

Crowley tries to plan ahead, while his story slowly warps into a different genre due to Aziraphale’s interruptions. He eventually changes back into his usual Henley shirt after agreeing to swap places and guarding the bookshop while the angel is off to Edinburgh, collecting more clues. Did he finish his personal quest off-screen? Did he just give up on it in the whirlwind of matchmaking shenanigans? Remains to be seen.

In the S2 finale our master of disguise in yet another turtleneck proves that he can successfully infiltrate even the universe’s back office. We don’t know where he drives off in the end, but one thing is certain — he’s got a plan. And a world (and his dream) to save, like a superhero he is.

[ironunderstands]

GUYS GUYS GUYS I FIGURED OUT HOW THE FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE HAPPENED PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME RANT I CONNECTED THE DOTS I CONNECTED THEM 

SO I WAS HAVING THIS AMAZING CONVERSATION WITH ONE IF MY MOOTS AND I REALIZED, WE SEE THE SCENE IN THE “FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE” TAKE PLACE, or rather, SECONDS PRIOR LET ME EXPLAIN EEEEE

Ok ok ok ok so in our first meeting with Acheron we witness a very conversation between Aventurine and Dr. Ratio, where Aventurine says 

NOW KEEP THE THREE CHIPS AND RATIOS DOUBT IN MIND

ALRIGHT SO WE HAVE THAT NOW WHEN DOES THE LIGHTCONE TAKE PLACE???? ITS NOT CONFIRMED BUT ITS VERY EASY TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT ITS POST AVENTURINES ARGUMENT WITH DR. RATIO, FOR A NUMBER OF REASONS

a) Post-Argument Aventurine needs ratio not to doubt him and within the lightcone he does some Russian roulette to prove he never loses a gamble

b) Aventurine has virtually nothing on Pencony, literally nobody likes him or wants to partner with him and the family stole a lot of his stuff so he’s desperate for help and the trust of anyone, including Ratio, who doesn’t believe he can pull it off with so little resources and communication 

c) they leave that conversation on a bad note and that has to be rectified, the logical conclusion would be the lightcone is the rectification of the previous argument 

NOW, AND THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING; here is the descriptioj of the lightcone 

“You don’t believe me?” aka him confronting Ratios doubt, AND HE TAKES OUT THREE!!! THREE SHOTS!!!

Now where have we heard that before 

Ah, ratios doubt, and THREE chips. So, if you place the scene of the lightcone right after this one, you end up this this.

“Ah the charming audacity! To think that you, of all people, might emerge victorious dear gambler” (VICTORIOUS YOU KNOW LIKE THE FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE HUH HUHHHHHH REAJAJSJS)

“Three chips are enough. All or nothing”

“You don’t believe me?”

PROCEED THE REST OF THE EVENTS IF THE LIGHTCONE.

I COOKED I AM CORRECT IDGAF IF THIS SOMEHOW, SOMEHOW ENDS UP BIRTHDAY BEING CANON IT MAKES TOO MUCH SENSE AND LINES UP TOO DAMN WELL NOT TO BE GOOD NIGHT

[whencyclopedia]

Postumus

Postumus was Roman emperor from 260 to 269 CE. Marcus Cassianus Latinius Postumus was a trusted military commander of Emperor Gallienus (253-268 CE) and governor or Germania Superior and Inferior (Upper and Lower Germany). After the death of his father Valerian in 260 CE, Gallienus left him in charge of military operations in the west. It was a mistake the inexperienced and trustworthy emperor would soon regret, for the commander's own troops would take advantage of Gallienus's absence to declare Postumus emperor. It was a move that allowed him to establish himself as the ruler of the Gallic Empire, which included Gaul, Spain, and eventually Britain.

Rise to Power

Marcus Cassianus Latinius Postumus was an opportunist. While fighting the Persian King Shapur in the east, Emperor Valerian has been captured while attempting to negotiate peace and eventually died while in captivity, even suffering the humiliation as serving as the king's footstool. His unexpected death led to a crisis in the empire, for many inside and outside of Rome did not believe his co-emperor and son Gallienus was capable of managing the vast empire. Although he struggled to maintain his right to the throne and restore order, there was resistance.

From 235 to 285 CE, there were at least fifty claimants to the throne, and only one would die of natural causes, Claudius Gothicus. The Pax Romana, initiated by Augustus, was long over. In 260 CE Postumus would not be the only one to oppose the recognized emperor. Much of the resistance to Gallienus was in the east. For the next two years, there were at least seven pretenders to the purple. First, like so often before, after a successful victory, a commander would be declared emperor by his own troops. This time is was Ingenuus. Unfortunately, he would neither be recognized in Rome nor even step foot in the city; he was defeated by the Roman commander Aureolus at Mursa. While some speculate he was killed by his devoted troops as he fled the battle scene, others believe he committed suicide to avoid capture.

Ingenuus' once dedicated army quickly switched their allegiance to Regalianus, the governor of Upper Pannonia. Again, this supposed reign was short-lived. He was overcome by Gallienus, and like so many others, allegedly killed by those who had initially supported him. With the urging of their father, two more emerged to claim the throne, the brothers Macrianus and Quietus. In 261 CE Macrianus and his army advanced into the Balkans only to meet Roman forces and be severely defeated. Quietus, who had remained in Syria, was routed at Emesa where the townspeople turned on him and put the would-be emperor to death.

Continue reading...

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 2)

WARNINGS: None

Word Count: 5k

—————

“Lady (Y/N)?”

I came back to myself suddenly, no longer stuck inside the memory of my introduction to Lord Tywin. Remembering that day made me even angrier than I had previously been. How on earth was I supposed to believe Baelish? Because either he was lying, or Tywin Lannister was desperate. Gods, the thought of denying him much needed assistance was a sweet one.

“Lady (Y/N), I understand that you aren’t fond of Lord Tywin, but I implore you to think not only of yourself. Look at your two siblings. Dare I say that they would very much appreciate this alliance,” Lord Baelish said, folding his fingers together in his usual manner. My eyes narrowed, because if there was one thing I would not stand it was being played. Not by this disgusting man, especially. 

“What are you getting at, Littlefinger? I’m not going to play Lord Tywin’s dirty game, nor yours just because you think-”

“Lord Baelish, would you permit us a few moments alone? To discuss this offer amongst ourselves,” Margaery interrupted, letting go of Loras and instead reaching out to touch my shoulder. I wondered how she tolerated having to manage her two older siblings. 

“Certainly, Lady Margaery. I would suggest that you take all the time you need, but it is also a rather urgent offer. Stannis intends to take Kings Landing, as you know,” he replied with his meek tone. Every time I heard Baelish speak I wanted nothing more than to press a blade to his throat and make him stop. 

I watched him leave the room, though the air of disturbance he had brought with him did not disappear. The second that the door closed, Margaery sighed out and turned to me, placing both of her hands on my arms. 

“(Y/N), I beg you to consider this. An alliance with House Lannister would be more than good for us, and if you’re honest with yourself you know I’m right. Sansa Stark’s betrothal to Joffrey is entirely irrelevant while her family is still in open rebellion, we could easily find a way to marry me to him. I could be queen. And Stannis Baratheon doesn’t stand a chance against both us and the Lannisters, which means that Loras would stop behaving… well, like this…” Margaery reasoned, pulling me aside and keeping her voice at a whisper. We both looked over at our brother who was sitting down at the table with his head in his hands. I’d never seen him like this before, and I couldn’t deny that it was distressing. 

“I… I understand where you’re coming from, Margaery, but this is Tywin Lannister and Petyr Baelish. The second that the war is won they’ll turn on us for rebelling against the crown, don’t you see that? Littlefinger and chaos go hand in hand, he isn’t here simply to ‘help’ us. And I don’t trust that Tywin Lannister is being genuine; I would rather die than believe otherwise,” I pointed out, grimacing at the idea of having to work alongside him. Margaery could see right through me, though. 

“I know how much you hate him, (Y/N), for the gods sake everyone in all seven kingdoms does. But you need to put that aside for House Tyrell. Remember that it took father almost an entire year to forgive you for what happened at Casterly Rock, and it was only because of grandmother's relentless convincing that he decided to let you represent House Tyrell in the Greyjoy Rebellion. Had it not been for that, who knows if he would’ve named you commander of our army. It is a title he can still revoke and give to Loras. However, if House Tyrell were to emerge from this war victorious because of a decision that you decided to make…” my sister reminded, not so subtly suggesting that if I played our cards right it might cement my position. I scowled, hating that she would use that logic on me.  

“Margaery, I don’t appreciate what you’re suggesting,” I muttered in reply, not hiding my glare whatsoever. My sister often played just as dirty as I did. 

“I know you don’t, and that’s why you’re going to listen.”

“It’s exactly why I’m not going to accept Lord Tywin’s offer, because it puts us in too much danger. I am not as foolish as Ned Stark, Margaery. When Kings Landing is safe and Robb Stark is dead, where will the lions turn their attention?” I questioned rhetorically, knowing that my sister understood all of the implications that came with us having chosen to back Renly. 

“Their attention will be on us no matter what we do, sister. But if we don’t ally with Tywin Lannister, they’ll be even more likely to remember it. If we help them defeat these enemies, the Lannisters will be certain to show us at least a little gratitude. And when I marry Joffrey and provide heirs, they’ll be forced to forget it. Plus, we would be reinforcing his claim. How many other houses are rushing to do that?” Margaery pointed out, giving me a sort of pleading look. She was pleading for me to see her side of it. To do the ‘right’ thing.

“If we join now, sister, I would be no better than Lord Tywin himself—sacking Kings Landing and ordering the murder of all the remaining Targaryens just so that King Robert would not distrust him,” I insisted wildly, making an excuse more than anything. I would never admit that, but deep down I knew it. 

“That is something entirely different, (Y/N), and no matter how good you are at lying it’ll never be good enough to fool yourself. You must put your anger aside. For me—for Loras! I am begging you, sister. I am begging you to be the reasonable, intelligent, and pragmatic leader that you usually are,” Margaery whispered, her stare so intense that I had to look away. I couldn’t recall a single time in my life that she had ever insisted upon something with such passion.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and shaking my head to myself. Gods, what was I doing? I swallowed, blinking a few times and then taking several strides to my writing desk. It was dark, but the light from the hearth was enough to see what I was doing as I reached for my ink and quill. 

I grabbed a sheet of parchment with a sort of resentment, taking my anger out on the poor material as I scratched down some irrelevant words of agreement and signed my name at the bottom of it. This was nothing but a formality, and I hated myself for doing even this. 

Both Margaery and Loras watched me roll the thing up and seal it with golden rose. There was a sort of gratitude in both of their eyes, and for just a moment it made me less angry about what I was doing. 

If I was going to go against my principles for anybody, it ought to be them. They were worth far more than Tywin Lannister, and that was a fact I had to continually repeat to keep myself from tearing the paper in my hands. 

I approached my door, opening it and being met with Ser Elias’ armored back for just a moment as he moved aside. Baelish stood there, and the smug look on his pathetic face almost made me reconsider. From the moment that he had suggested Stannis and my siblings, he had won. He knew that, otherwise he wouldn’t have been smiling. 

“Where does Lord Tywin intend to meet us?” I questioned, knowing that the upcoming battle was so restricted on time that we would need to meet somewhere. Littlefinger would’ve been instructed to tell me where, too. 

“Tumblers Falls, my lady.”

I made a noise of affirmation, promptly handing him my scroll. He gave his little bow in return, and my stomach sank as I watched him go down the hallway. It felt as though I had just sold my soul.

I shook the feeling away, turning around and looking back into the room. My acceptance of Lord Tywin’s proposal seemed to have revived my younger brother, for he was on his feet and more alert than he had been in hours. The prospect of killing Stannis Baratheon was ringing around in his head, I supposed. 

I sighed once more, giving him a nod.

“I’ll call the banners, Loras. Go wake father.”

—————

It was early in the morning when we met with Lord Tywin and Lord Randyll Tarly, neither of whom sparked any joy in those around them. As we had approached their camp and seen the banners flying, I wondered if this was perhaps the most miserable alliance in all of history. Although—even despite my deep anger and annoyance—the thought of Tywin Lannister and Randyll Tarly having dinner together and sitting in a grim, brooding silence was somewhat amusing. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” 

I turned to Loras, raising both eyebrows to signal that I hadn’t entirely processed what he’d said to me. He sighed and opened his mouth to speak again. “(Y/N), you mustn't let this grudge interfere with things. Pretend that this is your first time meeting Lord Tywin, or- or remind yourself that it’s been 11 years since you last saw him. I cannot imagine he bears any intense animosity toward you, you were only a girl when it happened,” he said, attempting to calm me.

“Well I still bear intense animosity toward him, even if it has been 11 years. I pray that you understand, Loras, how little I truly want to be a part of this alliance. I am doing it for you and Margaery alone, because I am your older sister and it is my job to see to your happiness. If it wasn’t for the two of you, I would’ve gladly declined this offer,” I grumbled, shifting in my armor. I had been wearing it so much lately that I wanted nothing more than to be entirely free of it, even if just for one entire day. 

“Well, if it’s any motivation, sister, I’m certain that father will be more than pleased once it’s all over. Perhaps he’ll even step back from our army entirely,” Loras added on, hoping that at least one thing could console me. I sighed, shaking my head. 

“I would’ve found another way to make father entrust me entirely.”

“Perhaps, but this way is the best.”

As we entered the encampment, Loras and I instantly stopped all conversation, continuing on with just a few bannermen as the rest of our army settled in with my father. He was at the back, of course, just as most seasoned lords were. It seemed the older one got, the more comfortable they became leading men from the back. My father did it, and so would Randyll Tarly and Tywin Lannister. Loras and I would lead the vanguard, though. I had no doubt about that. 

It was no difficult task to find Tywin Lannister’s tent, and the two of us dismounted rather gracefully. It was a sort of Tyrell appearance that we meant to keep up. People never suspect roses of anything, which was perhaps one of the most advantageous things about our house. 

“Sister, if you should like it, I can speak with Lord Tywin in your place. I don’t want you to become too aggravated,” Loras offered quietly as we approached the entrance. I instantly shook my head.

“No, thank you. I’m hateful, not incompetent.” 

The guards stationed outside Lord Tywin’s tent obviously knew who we were, for it did not take any real common sense to decipher us: two obviously rich young adults dressed in armor and green capes. They announced our names and then opened the flaps of the tent, holding them until Loras and I were completely inside. 

As I entered, I instantly set my eyes upon my sworn enemy. I could not even process that this man was an ally, seated at the table and gazing down at his map. His hair was almost entirely white now, though it had a sort of blonde shine. His beard still had a bit more color, but was distinctly white along the edges. I noted the same piercing eyes when he did us the ‘honor’ of looking up. 

“Lady (Y/N), Ser Loras, thank you for coming,” he said casually, only holding our gazes long enough to be appropriate. I suddenly noticed the two men beside him, and based on their attire realized that they were Kevan Lannister and Randyll Tarly. 

“Of course, Lord Tywin. Nothing should please us more than an alliance to stop a common enemy,” Loras spoke first, using the term ‘us’ rather loosely in my opinion. I supposed there was some truth, though. I greatly sympathized with my brother and hoped that whatever grief he was processing would partly be healed by this endeavor. 

“We intend to move out in just over an hour. We should be there in time to surprise them and attack before they manage to cross the Blackwater Rush and reach the mud gate,” Lord Tywin said, rising from his seat. Lord Tarly did the same, and gave the Old Lion a simple nod before leaving the tent. I assumed they had previously discussed something. 

Kevan Lannister had remained at the table, and I found myself drifting toward the map and examining our plans for the evening. Seeing a fault, I looked up to find Lord Tywin already staring at me. He had not moved from the table, he had only stood up.

“Any criticisms for me this time, Lady (Y/N)?” He asked, voice icy and eyes equally so. I pressed my fists into the parchment as childish irritation found its way back to me.

“Yes, but I’ll try and make it constructive, my lord. Perhaps, by some miracle, you’ll be more responsive this time,” I scowled, trying my hardest to not be utterly disrespectful. I could tell by the look on Loras’ face that it was not a successful attempt.

“How reassuring it is, Lady (Y/N), to know that you’ve lost some of your vanity and ego,” Lord Tywin replied, face as firm as the stones that comprised Casterly Rock. Had I focused on anything but Lord Tywin, I would’ve realized that both Loras and Lord Kevan were open mouthed and ready to intervene should this conversation become explosive. 

“The sentiment is mutual, Lord Tywin.”

The two of us stared at each other for a good minute, neither relenting or breaking eye contact. Just as Lord Kevan stood up to speak, the Old Lion decided that he did not want assistance in this conversation.

“I have earned my pride, Lady (Y/N). Forgive me, but I find myself doubting how truthfully the same can be said of you,” he not-so-subtly insulted, his jaw emboldening with his anger. I felt my own teeth pressing together just before I replied.

“Quite truthfully, Lord Tywin, and if you have the decency to not be an insufferable cunt for once and actually listen to me, perhaps tonight’s battle can be added to the list of achievements that both of us have the right to feel proud of,” I snarled, serving the Lord of the Rock the brutally honest statement that he was so seemingly asking for. 

Loras attempted to put his hand out to me, but my sharp glare instantly made him freeze. Once he had, my eyes were once again on Lord Tywin. There was a glimmer of amusement, anger, and challenge in his eyes. I waited with angry anticipation for whatever he might say next.

With only a brief glance at his younger brother, something shifted. He decided to yield, simply moving around the table and standing beside me. I did not doubt he was furious, but I also knew that he understood the significance of our alliance and did not care so much to insult me as he cared to join the two largest armies in Westeros. 

“Go on then, girl. What would you have us do?”

His usage of the word ‘girl’ sparked fury just as he intended, but I knew it was now my turn to compromise despite that. And gods, it took so much strength. 

“Lord Tywin, based on the blocks you have laid out, I take it that you intend to have your troops north of the river?”

“Correct.”

“And that you would have Randyll Tarly accompany both the vanguard and my father south of the river?”

“Correct. What is your point?” Lord Tywin questioned, annoyance ingrained in his voice. I scowled, wishing he would learn to be patient for a single time in his miserable existence. 

“My point is that Randyll Tarly has the smallest number of men out of the three houses. The narrow stretch of land in front of the mud gate is too small for Stannis Baratheon to land any significant number of men on. What he is obviously going to do is have men land south of the river and take smaller boats to the mud gate while cannons from his ships attempt to batter the walls. It would be wisest for us to focus most men south of the river, for while our ships combat Stannis’ we need to prevent the rest of his soldiers from reaching the mud gate at all. We ought to have Randyll Tarly go on the north side of the river and instead join our two armies south of it. That, plus our collective vanguard, will prevent the continued crossing of the river. Plus, King Joffrey’s men will also be at the mud gate to assist Lord Tarly,” I explained, motioning with the different sigil blocks as I did. There was something inexplicably exciting about battle strategies. 

Lord Tywin thought about all that I had said entirely in silence, and after a moment he turned to look at his younger brother. Lord Kevan cleared his throat, nodding.

“It would be smart, Tywin. Lady Tyrell is correct in assuming that most of Stannis’ men will be south of the river. If we plan to move out earlier so we can beat them to it, we ought to make sure it’s effective once we do get there.”

There was another moment of silence, and then the older man beside me finally nodded. He seemed resentful that I had actually had a good idea, and it gave me satisfaction to see him bothered, even if it was subtly. Although, I had to admit that there was something else in his eyes. Almost like a look of revelation. 

“There is something else, my lords. Loras?”

My brother stepped toward the table, swallowing a bit anxiously. I did not blame him, the environment was unreasonably tense.

“I have the armor of Renly Baratheon. I believe that- well, if I were to wear it, perhaps some of the men that decided to join Stannis after his death will believe that he has come back and join our side,” Loras explained, making both of the lions raise their eyebrows. It was a clever idea, it could not be denied. Loras and I had discussed it before leaving Highgarden.

“A clever thought, Ser Loras. Perhaps that will be helpful,” Lord Kevan nodded, turning to his kin. Lord Tywin said nothing but similarly seemed appreciative. I wondered whether or not he would look so content if he knew it had truthfully been my idea. 

“Yes, perhaps. Kevan, would you inform Lord Tarly of the change in plans?” he asked his brother after a moment. Lord Kevan of course nodded and left us alone. I similarly whispered to Loras that he ought to prepare our own men to be moving out shortly, it was approaching noon and I expected it would be about half a day's ride to Kings Landing. We should want to be there at about dusk. 

Then it was only Lord Tywin and I in the tent. He had moved away from the map and toward a separate table. 

“Do you drink?” He asked suddenly, pouring himself a cup of wine. The question appeared odd to me, because of course I did. Who did not?

“Not before battles, my lord. When I have no height or strength advantages, my wits is all I have,” I told him, reasoning that perhaps he had meant to add ‘before battles’ at the end of his sentence. The Old Lion nodded.

“You’ve done well with them. Even if your temper has not simmered, nor your manners improved, you have at least become smarter,” he said, raising his cup to his lips. My eyes narrowed at him, and I wondered if it was possible for him to go even a minute without being utterly rude and annoying.

“Well, I would thank you if I was unaware of that fact. It is no wonder that I have gotten smarter, I have acquired more experience. And rest assured, Lord Tywin, it is only you that receives such ill-treatment,” I told him, fixing my gloves and flexing my hands to adjust. The leather was pleasant against the bitter cold, but the anger in me was causing a rising body temperature, and it was becoming uncomfortable.

“Ah yes, this treatment is reserved for insufferable cunts, is that it?” He shot back, hoping to make me feel small for calling him such a thing. How genuinely pathetic of him.

“Precisely. It’s good to know you still have your wits about you, Lord Tywin,” I affirmed, keeping my rock hard glare on him as he took a step closer and towered over me. I wanted to laugh, for he had attempted the same thing when I was a girl.

“You’d better be careful, Lady (Y/N). House Tyrell is an ally now, but that does not mean I’m going to accept your insults and childish behavior,” he said, speaking low and deep. 

“You forget, Lord Tywin, that my armies greatly outnumber yours. I will fight with you for my family, but nothing could ever possess me to feel civil towards you,” I replied, not afraid of his icy eyes. I would not take disrespect, nor would I ever permit myself to feel an ounce of fear. I was the Nightshade of the Garden now, not some 14 year old girl.

Tywin stayed quiet for a moment, and then turned around and walked a few steps to drink from his cup. As he set it down, he looked back at me and sighed with a sort of frustration. 

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed as though he was attempting to figure something out, and even if it was just a normal kind of observation, I immediately felt that he was scrutinizing me. It made me even more bitter, because after all, it wasn’t as though he was an adored man. Even he was not so prideful as to think that. 

“May I ask you something, Lady Tyrell?”

“No.”

“Why is it that you continue to hate me so much? I understand that you did not appreciate being informed of the fact that at the age of 14 you were not all knowing, but since that day I have done nothing more to slight you or your family. You, on the other hand, have been quite vocal about your contempt for me even despite it having been 11 years. So I ask, why?”

I stared at him rather seriously for a moment before laughing to myself in disbelief. Was he truly being serious? Why did I hate him? 

“I will be fighting in the vanguard with my brother tonight, Lord Tywin. I will see you after the battle, I’m certain. Men like you never actually partake in the fighting, after all,” I said, suddenly transforming into my sister as I gave him the most utterly charming smile that I could. He would expect anger from me, and so being polite would naturally frighten him more. 

I turned around to leave then, but his voice was sharp and clear in my ears.

“I have asked you a question, Lady Tyrell.”

Lady Tyrell… it was a title that I enjoyed hearing, but for some reason—that I assumed was my hatred—I could not stand hearing it from him. Gods, it sounded horrible coming from him. I almost wished he would revert back to ‘girl’. I had a feeling, however, that even despite his anger, manners would prevent him from any long term usage of it. I was a lady, after all. If he was going to be cruel to me, he was going to do it properly. 

“And I made it quite clear, Lord Lannister, that I have no intention of answering it. I will see you after the battle, my lord. Should you be in need of any more dire assistance from my family, you know where to find us,” I replied curtly, not giving him any opportunity to reply as I left his tent. I felt blood rushing to my face with a familiar anger.

Gods, I could not wait for this damned war to be over so I could return to Highgarden and never have to see the man again. And to be certain of that fact, I would pray for peace in the realm until he was dead. If only the gods would be so kind.

—————

“Does everything fit alright, Loras?” I asked, running my hands over his armor to make sure each part was properly in place. So far as I could tell, Renly’s armor fit him perfectly. 

“Yes, it fits just as well as my own. I fear the only thing that might not fit so well is his helm. His head was always far bigger than mine…” Loras trailed off, reaching for it and holding it in both of his hands. I could tell that looking at the helm took him somewhere else, perhaps deep into a memory. 

Seeing him this way calmed me, for it made this wretched alliance seem worth it. Even if Tywin Lannister was the worst cunt in all seven kingdoms, my brother deserved this. He deserved to avenge Renly and he deserved to shame Stannis. If this alliance meant he got those two things, then so be it. I would agree to it a million times for that, even despite my initial fury. 

I watched Loras pull the helm on then, and even though it was not a precise fit, it was good enough that there was no need to worry about it coming off during battle. For a moment, it was almost like I was looking at Renly again, and it was an odd sensation. Renly and I had been on good terms throughout the time of our alliance, and I had been saddened by his death to be certain. Wars just made it difficult to properly mourn anybody. 

“You know… even if I was only one of his knights and advisors, I was happy that way. Always with him, or at least near him. Gods, after my initial jealousy over his marriage to Margaery, that made me happy too. Their marriage would’ve meant he was never far,” Loras noted somberly, looking at himself in the mirror. Looking at Renly in the mirror.

It was an interesting thought, and one that I’d never considered before. The only reason that I had been happy about his marriage to Margaery was because it meant that it wasn’t to me. It had taken my father far too much convincing, and I was grateful that Renly hadn’t been offended by the second daughter. After all, he was a third son. Well, it was irrelevant. Margaery had always been better suited to marriage than I, and she had saved me from it. 

“Oh Loras…”

I had wanted to say something more to comfort my brother, but I found that nothing would come out. I had not a clue what to say to him, much to my frustration. Loras only reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of understanding. I was glad that he understood my sympathies. 

Just then, the flaps of our tent burst open and a young squire came in carrying my sword. The boy looked quite young, and it made me wary for a moment. How could a boy this young be trusted to do anything of real importance? Though, when I thought about it he was probably 14 or so. 

“Lady Tyrell, your sword. It’s been… it’s been coated in the poisons just as you asked. Ser Elias showed me how to do it before we left Highgarden,” the boy said, laying the sword down on a table as he attempted to catch his breath. He’d been running around, I presumed. 

“Thank you, young man. I’m certain Ser Elias taught you well.”

As the boy bowed his head and rushed out, I sighed. Gods, I missed Ser Elias. Even though he wasn’t anything close to a squire, he often took on such jobs because he knew that I trusted him more than anybody else. He had been with me when I’d learned how to use poisons and such as a young girl, and he’d picked it up just as quickly. There was never a doubt of his quality.

I moved over to the table, unsheathing my sword about halfway and inspecting the gleam. Yes, it had been done well enough. I pushed the weapon back in, a small smile emerging on my face. My use of poisons, especially when it came to weaponry, had become somewhat renowned throughout the seven kingdoms after the Greyjoy Rebellion. 

My father had originally had no intention to support Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark, but I had seen the opportunity for what it was. After remaining loyal during the king’s own rebellion, I knew that our ties to the crown were among some of the weakest, and to help suppress the Greyjoys would strengthen them. Of course, I had only been 15 at that time, and so it had taken quite a bit of convincing from both me and my grandmother in order for my father to grant me the privilege of leading men. The agreement had been that I would be given a host of around a thousand men, and that I was only to lead from the back—something I had not honored whatsoever.

When the rebellion had been successfully crushed, many tales began to spread about the 15 year old Tyrell girl who, at the head of her vanguard, charged straight into the battle and fearlessly plowed through man after man. And not only had I done that, but I’d also instructed all my men to coat their swords in poison. Thus, I was granted both command of the Tyrell army—for my father could hardly refuse me after I’d proven my skill and improved relations with the crown—and the nickname ‘the Nightshade of the Garden’. 

In my opinion, it was quite fitting. Well, fitting enough once I managed to look past the fact that nightshade is a consumed poison. I certainly had no desire to kill anybody that way. Not yet, at least. Spending too much time around Tywin Lannister and his family might be exactly the thing to change my mind. All I could do was pray that this war would be over soon enough, and the first step toward ending it would be tonight. For that reason, I prayed that my brother would get his wish: to see Stannis Baratheon dead by dawn. 

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