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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 9 months

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Comet Donati [Chapter 6: No Control]

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, mental health struggles, all-you-can-eat sushi, bodily injury, violence, hungry deer, Selena Gomez, angst!!!

Selected Chapter Quote: “He can’t see on that side, you fucking snake!”

Word count: 9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

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Your last day waking up in Singapore: lying in bed and watching the shadows of birds shoot across the ceiling like falling stars. Your wrist aches in its splint. The door to the balcony is wide open. The wind blows in hot and damp off the South China Sea. You hear him before you see him: the swipe of a keycard, the swinging of the door, the clop clop clop of undoubtedly neon Crocs against the hardwood floor.

You look over at him, not moving from the bed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Then Aegon notices something in the tiny trashcan beside your nightstand that’s cluttered with souvenirs. Nestled between empty soda cans and Starburst wrappers is a mostly full pack of birth control pills. He stares at it for a while before he says, tentatively: “Trying for a little bundle of joy? With anyone I know?”

“Definitely not.” You sigh, turning back to the ceiling, morose. “Baela and I did 23AndMe like a month ago, and we just got our results back. She’s distantly related to royalty. I have a defective gene that makes me extra susceptible to blood clots. So if I take hormonal birth control I could have a stroke or something.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Aegon says.

“Yeah.”

“But it’s good you found out, you know? I wouldn’t want you dropping over dead.”

“Yeah,” you say again, flatly, ungenerously.

“Hey, no big deal, Stargirl. You know I’d use condoms anyway.”

“Well I might at some point in my life want to have sex with someone who’s not you, so.”

Aegon steps closer; he appears upside down as he studies you from above, sunburned forehead knit into thoughtful grooves, smelling like Tiger Beer and Axe body spray and…you think…chicken wings. His hair is in disarray, his aviator sunglasses tangled in blond knots. He’s wearing a lavender tank top, like dusk, like a bruise. “Ohhhh, I get it. This is an Aemond and Shelby thing.”

You hate that you’re so transparent, like a window wiped clean of fog and fingerprints. You hate that he’s right. “Why are they even together? What the hell do they have in common?”

“Now or before?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well, before…” Aegon scratches at his cheek. There is a bug bite there, a tiny pink welt left by the venom of a mosquito or a spider. “It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Aemond got the satisfaction of boning the kind of girl who would have screamed if he touched her back in high school. Shelby got a massive career boost. She had 900,000 Instagram followers when they met. Now she has over 20 million.”

That recurring, futile refrain: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

“And I won’t lie. They had some good times.” Aegon grins down at you. “Just like we did.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” Aegon ponders this. “Now I think they’re both lost. Neither of them knows what comes next. Aemond leaving Comet. Shelby hitting that age when people like her start checking off the husband and kids boxes. When you’re thrown off a ship, you cling to the life raft, even if it’s small or ripped up or half-deflated or whatever, right? You try to hold on to what you have left. You return to what’s familiar. And that doesn’t make it right, but it’s what people do.”

“It is,” you agree mournfully. “So Aemond was the one who broke it off.”

“Yeah.”

“And then he took her back.” She called and called and called, he finally answered.

“He had a moment of weakness. Now we all have to live with it.”

“I didn’t know that.” Then you sit up on the bed and look at Aegon. “When the label wanted to get rid of Aemond, why didn’t you fight for him?”

“That’s just the way of the world, Stargirl.” He shrugs, an inevitability, good weather, bad weather, sun and clouds and storms. “He couldn’t stay in the band the way he is now. And the problem isn’t what he looks like. The problem is in his soul. But I have no idea how to fix it.” Aegon smiles, warm like summer. “I thought maybe you would. That’s why I called you.”

“You didn’t even know me,” you tell him. “I was just some girl from a bar.”

“No,” Aegon says softly, and he does not elaborate. And then, bright and cheerful again: “You’re really going to earn your paycheck at our next stop.”

“Where are we going?” You recall the names you’ve heard bouncing around since Comet arrived in East Asia, the cities you’ve seen on banners and t-shirts and Instagram posts. “Bangkok? Kuala Lumpur? Manila? Jakarta? Seoul?”

“Tokyo.” Aegon is still smiling, though in an off-kilter way now, uneasily, his murky ocean-blue eyes somber. The scene of the crime. Where the accident happened. Where Aemond believes his life ended. “We’re performing at the Budokan.”

~~~~~~~~~~

White clouds turn to sapphire waves, then emerald green fields and forests, then buildings in a million different shades of grey that stretch on forever, steel and concrete and asphalt and glass. Tokyo is the largest city you’ve ever seen, the largest city imaginable. It is a labyrinth that makes you think of the hay mazes that farms back home set up each autumn; it beckons you in and then dares you to leave.

As the band hurries through Haneda Airport, you are pursued by paparazzi and hyperventilating fans. The usual suspects—Aegon, Daeron, and Jace—can be relied upon to high five, smile, flash peace signs and hand hearts, blow kisses, pass out crochet astronomical objects, and shout such endearments as (woefully mispronounced) “Konnichiwa!” and “We love you, Japan!” Shelby waves like she’s goddamn Princess Diana. Aemond bows his head, his eyes enigmatic behind his sunglasses, his steps swift. Luke holds Rhaena’s hand; Baela walks with them. You hide behind Cregan. He casts quite a large shadow.

“I look real rock and roll now,” you joke, gesturing with your splinted arm.

Cregan replies in his rumbly subterranean voice: “I think I have you beat.” He pulls up one of his sleeves—floral print, silk, Valentino—and shows you the underside of his right forearm. Bisecting the flesh from his wrist to the crook of his elbow is a long, faint, moon-white scar that you’ve never noticed before, never even heard anyone mention.

“Oh, ouch! You broke it?”

“Compound fracture.” He covers his forearm again with his sleeve.

“When? How?”

Cregan hesitates. Suddenly, he no longer wants to be having this conversation. “Years ago.”

Just outside the airport waits that trusty fleet of black, tinted-window Escalades; but Aemond has requested that his 1960 Gold Star be there too. He takes his keys, helmet, and jacket from one of Comet’s hulking security guards. Shelby’s detail is notably more subdued since that night in Singapore; the man who dislocated your wrist has been exiled from the tour. Aemond climbs onto his motorcycle and starts the engine. The sound takes you back to Rome: when your hopes and spirits were high, when you and Aemond were still living on the light side of the moon.

“You in the mood for a ride, Shelby?” Aegon asks, smirking unkindly, taunting, chomping loudly on cotton candy flavored Bubble Yum. “Don’t forget your helmet. We’d all be lost without you.”

Shelby combs out her beachy blond waves with her artful fingers, tan, reedy, nails turquoise and adorned with golden koi fish. “You’re psychotic if you think I’m getting on that bike.”

“Jesus,” Jace mutters. He is as shocked as anyone by his abrupt demotion to only the second most villainous person in Comet’s retinue.

Aemond doesn’t react, doesn’t say anything to Shelby, doesn’t even look at her. But he does glance over at you. And the words rise in your throat like a burning sun at dawn: I’ll go, I’d love to go, I trust you, I want you. But before you can say anything, Aemond has knocked the kickstand out of the way and is weaving through thick afternoon traffic towards the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. And as the Escalades roll and the band chats around you—indistinctly, abstractedly—you keep staring out the window and searching for glimpses of Aemond like the rare flash of a meteor in a city sky; but you can’t find him.

Criston knows he’s brought Comet to dangerous ground, peppered with quagmires and landmines. So he has planned a ruthlessly hectic itinerary. As soon as you’ve received your room key and unpacked, it’s time for dinner at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant down the street. Criston herds the band there like the rugged Australian cattle dogs that your parents have back in Kansas City nip at the heels of snorting, intractable Black Angus bulls. You sit between Baela and Aegon, who is wearing his neon green tank top, matching Crocs (per usual), and khaki cargo shorts. He’s also gulping sake bombs until they dribble down his sunburned face. Countless varieties of sushi and side dishes rotate by on a conveyer belt, colorful little plates waiting to be snatched up: salmon, tuna, eel, octopus, shrimp, miniature omelets, fried tofu, Wagyu beef, squid, yellowtail, veggie rolls, chicken and pork dumplings, seaweed salad.

“You okay over there?” Aegon asks, grinning as he watches you stab at your eel sushi, topped with some kind of mayo-like sauce and delicious but tragically challenging to eat.

“I didn’t know how to use chopsticks before my dominant hand was put out of commission.” You glare down the row at Shelby. She glowers back. Since that night in Singapore, you circle each other like snarling undomesticated animals, wolves or coyotes. Now you’re on her radar. Now she knows there is something—that mysterious, ever-shifting, worrying something—between you and Aemond. She just doesn’t know what it is. Neither do you, neither does he, neither does anyone.

“Want me to feed you?” Aegon slurs flirtatiously. He plucks up a piece of your eel sushi with his chopsticks and promptly drops it in your lap. “Oh. Fuck.”

Baela presses the button on the counter to summon the server. “I’ll get you a fork.”

“You are a saint,” you tell her. “Patron saint of initiative. Or drive, whichever you prefer the sound of.” Aegon is mayhem, Aemond is lost causes. What am I?

“And you are an uncultured hick from Kansas.”

You smile at her. “Missouri.”

Your fork soon arrives. A few seats down the row, you hear Shelby ask innocently, like it doesn’t mean anything: “How old is Louis Tomlinson’s son now?”

Aemond shrugs. He’s watching the conveyor belt for vegan options; he keeps missing them when they pass by. “I don’t know, five?”

“No, Freddie?!” Luke says. “He’s gotta be like seven now. We saw him last summer at Niall’s pool party.”

“He was so cute,” Shelby says. She’s sitting on Aemond’s good side, as always. She rubs his back and you fight the urge to break her fingers one by one, snapping them in half like dry autumn twigs, lifeless and hollow. “Wasn’t he cute, honeybunch?”

“Sure,” Aemond replies distractedly. And of course Shelby is the type of person who believes that becoming a father will heal a man, rather than just dooming his children to be collateral damage.

Aegon peeks over the conveyer belt at the chefs who are preparing plates in the middle. He lurches and wobbles. Criston covers his own face with his hands, mortified. “Hey, hey, can I get a Crab Rangoon please?”

A chef says something in Japanese, soft and polite but clearly imploring him to sit back down.

Aegon repeats slowly: “Crab! Rangooooooon!”

“Hey dumbass,” Jace says. “That’s Chinese. We’re in Japan.”

“Oh. Right.” Aegon sighs, retreats, and orders himself another sake bomb.

You grab a plate of veggie rolls and another of fried tofu sushi off the conveyer belt and pass them down the row to Aemond. Shelby sends you the most venomous of glares, but Aemond mouths when she’s not paying attention: Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two shows in Tokyo, two performances on the stage where Aemond was mutilated. Of course, you don’t see mutilation when you look at him. You never have. You see the way the light hits the angles of his jaw and nose and cheekbones and think of marble faces in museums, generals, kings, saints, angels. You see the crystalline blue of his right eye and think of rivers, cool and rushing and clean. You see the ethereal haze of his left eye and think of other planets. You don’t know why everyone else reads his scar and blindness as a tale of unspeakable ruin. You can’t imagine seeing Aemond that way. It would be easier, less painful, simpler for you if you could. Maybe you could stop wanting him. Maybe you could stop dreaming about him, wisps of longing and memory that escape you as soon as you wake.

Aemond does not attend Comet’s concerts at the Budokan. They’re the only ones you’ve ever known him to miss. He rides out on his Gold Star instead, and then reappears to join the band for their post-show ritual in Jace’s suite, grim and quiet and scribbling in his black-paged notebook, smoking his cigarettes, sipping his Brambles. You cannot blame Aemond. You weren’t here last December when a piece of rigging collapsed during soundcheck and nearly killed him, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it; you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at the rafters during shows, wondering exactly how it happened, picturing Aemond bloody and unconscious on the stage, half-blinded and robbed without knowing it yet.

Tomorrow night is Comet Donati’s final performance in Tokyo, but today Criston has a day trip planned. He has filled every spare second of this tour stop with distractions. The band travels by bullet train (or shinkansen) and then local railways to Nara, the city that served as Japan’s capital in the 700s. Criston hires a tour guide—an 80-year old man called Toru-san, who possesses an incalculable amount of knowledge and also a very, very thick accent—to lead you all around Nara Park to see Isuien Garden, the Kasuga Taisha Shrine, the Nara National Museum, and finally the Great Buddha. Nara Park is full of food and souvenir vendors, as well as 1,200 sika deer that you can pet and feed, albeit at risk of being trampled by overenthusiastic herbivores. There are signs posted with warnings to exercise caution, complete with cartoon illustrations of deer gone rogue.

It’s 95 degrees outside with 80% humidity. You are drenched with sweat and guzzling boba tea. The handle of your bag from a gift shop is slung over your splint. Toru-san, despite his long pants and cardigan sweater, is looking spry as ever and is deep in conversation with Luke and Rhaena; he is regaling them with a bottomless well of Nara trivia. Cregan and Daeron are still browsing through gift shops, mostly for the opportunity to escape the heat and hover, sighing with relief, in front of every electric fan they come across. Aegon, lobster-level red—you aren’t sure if he’s more sunburned or flushed—is snoring under a tree as deer nibble at his cyan tank top and white cargo shorts. Aemond purchased probably $200 worth of deer crackers and has attracted a sizeable crowd of furry new friends. He’s like he always is around animals: beaming, immersed, at peace. Shelby is capturing pictures and video clips of him from a distance.

Nearby where you stand under the shade of a black pine tree, Baela is dressed in a crop top and yoga pants and stretching in the middle of a patch of grass. She keeps having to stop to shove deer away from her as they tiptoe close, searching for snacks. Jace is using Google Translate to flirt with a crowd of Japanese fangirls who have recognized him. They are giggling so loudly you can hear them from across a field. Baela is trying to ignore this. She falls out of a pose and sighs irritably, then walks over to you. Together, you watch Jace for a while, you slurping on your boba tea, Baela frowning with her hands on her willowy waist.

At last, she says: “Sometimes we love people who we know don’t deserve it. But that doesn’t make us love them any less. We just hate ourselves for not being stronger.”

“I think you’re incredibly strong, Baela.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Strong enough to leave him. Strong enough to begin living your own life again.”

Her expression is suddenly uncharacteristically vulnerable, fearful. “I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve never been an adult without him.”

“You’d figure it out. And you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have Rhaena, and Luke, and ballet, and all your friends and family—”

“And you too, right?” she asks. “You’ll still be my friend? Even after you go back home?”

You are stunned into a silence that Baela first mistakes for rejection. Her face falls. “No no no, I’m not hesitating, you just caught me by surprise. Of course I’ll still be your friend after the tour is over. I’ll be your friend forever.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“And you’ll visit me in prison if I snap one day and throw Jace into a meatgrinder?”

You laugh and hug her, your sweat dampening each other’s clothes: her orange crop top, your Backstreet Boys t-shirt. “Absolutely. For sure.”

“Okay. I gotta go practice some more.” She spends long hours down in the hotel gym while everyone else is sleeping or partying or preparing for shows, running and stretching and yoga and repeating the same dance routines over and over again. You applaud and whistle as she leaves. “Stop,” Baela complains, but she’s grinning.

You procure another boba tea. You find a nice shady spot on a bench. You check your phone; there’s maybe fifteen more minutes until the band is scheduled to leave for the train station to begin the journey back to Tokyo. Naturally, Criston has dinner already planned: kaiseki ryori, a traditional multi-course meal. You wonder if there will be vegan options for Aemond. Your eyes drift back to him. They always seem to. He’s dragging his palm down the face of a ten-point buck as he feeds him a crumbling brown cracker. There’s a fawn curled up in Aemond’s lap. His blond hair is slicked back off his forehead, his black shirt mostly unbuttoned. Sweat gleams on his chest. Your fingertips ache to draw sloping lines and lazy circles in it.

“I never worried about him,” Criston says. He’s appeared beside you, arms crossed guardedly. You move over so there’s room for Criston on the bench. He sits, distant and troubled. “I always worried about the others. Aegon and Jace especially. But not Aemond.”

“Because he never needed you,” you say quietly.

“He didn’t,” Criston agrees. “And so I wasn’t there to protect him that day.”

The day of the accident. “From what I understand, it wasn’t something you could have prevented.”

“No, I couldn’t have stopped that piece of rigging from falling. But I could have made it so he wasn’t standing under it.”

You wait for Criston to explain. That’s an element that people often underestimate: the power of waiting for someone to be ready.

“It was soundcheck,” Criston says. His voice is strained, hushed. He repeatedly touches the stubble of his beard, a nervous habit. “Aemond was on time, as always. Aemond was exactly where he was supposed to be. But no one else was. Aegon and Jace had gone off to a strip club or a burlesque show or something, I don’t remember. They came back to the hotel and were absolutely hammered, they were crawling around on the hallway floor and puking in corners, laughing hysterically, completely out of their minds. Cregan and Luke were there trying to get them cleaned up. I was on the phone with Cregan, he was pissed, probably the most angry I’ve ever heard him, he kept pausing to yell at Aegon. He’d dragged him into a cold shower, but Aegon was fighting, trying to bite and kick him and whatever the hell else. So eventually I decided to go to the hotel and deal with it. Aemond offered to go with me. I told him no, you stay here, I’ll bring the other four even if I have to get the security guys to toss Aegon and Jace over their shoulders and carry them. Then I left.”

“And that’s when it happened,” you realize. “While you were gone.”

“Yes,” Criston says. And he gazes across Nara Park, here in body but his mind trapped in the maze of the past.

“You had no way of knowing what would happen, Criston. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should have told him to come with me back to the hotel. Or I should have stopped Aegon and Jace from getting wasted. If they’d been on time, if soundcheck had happened as scheduled, no one would have been standing where that piece of rigging fell. Aemond would still be the leader of Comet. He would still have his face, his sight, his life.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say again.

“Alicent blames me,” he confesses. And you only know who she is because you’ve asked Aegon: the wife of Viserys Targaryen, the mother of his three sons. “She’ll never forgive me.”

Is that really why she avoids you, Criston? Or is there another reason? “If that’s true, it’s only because she’s feeling a lot of horrible things—grief, pain, regret, guilt—and she’s directing them at you. You haven’t earned them. You’re just the person standing in the line of fire. They’re a reflection of Alicent’s inner turmoil, not of your own worth. I think you’ve done a phenomenal job trying to keep this band safe and happy. And I know it’s not easy. I know it’s damn near impossible.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, looking at you with large, dark, truthful eyes like a dog’s.

And you imagine a world in which you’d never seen Aegon after that night in Kansas City, never met Aemond, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, Cregan, Daeron, Criston. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Criston reaches over and—for a moment, so briefly you could have imagined it—rests his hand on your shoulder like he sometimes does to Aemond and Luke. Then he leaves to collect Cregan and Daeron from a shaved ice vendor. Shelby has strolled over to consult with Toru-san, presumably so she can add his trivia to her Instagram posts and TikTok videos. You go to Aemond.

“I have a confession to make,” he says solemnly as you approach.

The oxygen vanishes from your lungs; you try to hide this. “What is it?”

Aemond smiles up at you. “When the tour guide was leading us here, I thought he kept saying that the park was full of bears. And I didn’t want to kill the mood or anything, but I was definitely concerned about going on a field trip to feed over 1,000 uncaged bears. I am very, very relieved that he was in fact saying deer.”

You chuckle and sit next to Aemond on the grass, petting the fawn in his lap. It blinks sleepily at you, its fur soft and spotted, its ears pricked up and curious.

“What’s your souvenir for this stop of the tour?” Aemond asks.

You pull it out of your bag to show him: a small stuffed sika deer complete with floppy felt antlers. “Isn’t it adorable?”

“It is,” he says. “Are you going to have room for all these keepsakes in your apartment back home?”

“Already fantasizing about me leaving, huh?”

“No,” Aemond says, seriously now. Deadly serious. “No, I’m not.” And then Criston is shouting through cupped hands for everybody to huddle up so you can all head to the train station.

It’s not until the band is trekking out of Nara Park towards the blissful promise of air conditioning that you realize someone is missing. When you look around, you see Criston, Aemond, Shelby, Aegon (rubbing his eyes and yawning), Baela, Jace, Rhaena, Luke, Cregan, and a smattering of security guards dressed in black.

“Wait,” you say. “Where’s Daeron?”

A chorus of confusion: “What?” Huh?” “He’s not here?” At last, Criston spies him sitting alone on a wooden park bench, glumly eating through his mountain of shaved ice.

“What the hell is he doing?!” Jace says impatiently, swiping perspiration from his forehead.

Aegon massages your shoulders. “I think this might call for your particular area of expertise, Stargirl.” And when Aemond’s eye flicks to Aegon fleetingly, resentfully, you think for the first time: And where were you, Aegon, when Aemond was waiting all those months ago? Whoring, drinking, self-destructing in ways that take other people down with you? Then you leave him.

Through the heat that lays thick over the city like a tangle of vines, you trudge to the bench where the youngest Targaryen brother is lingering. “Daeron? What’s wrong?”

He stares gloomily down into his shaved ice: blood-colored, strawberry, ichigo. “Everyone thinks I’m always joking and optimistic, but I’m not.”

You ask gently: “What are you really, Daeron?”

“I don’t know what to be. That’s the problem. I worry about it all the time. I can’t win. If I’m sad, then I’m ungrateful for this tremendous opportunity. But if I’m happy, it’s like I’m dancing on Aemond’s grave.”

“He’s not dead, Daeron,” you say.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“But a lot of the time people talk about him like he is. You speak around him, over him, through him. Do you think he doesn’t notice?” Do you think he can’t feel the weight of that dark gravity that roots him to the earth? Do you think he can disentangle who he is from the wreckage that has buried its shrapnel in his bones?

Daeron isn’t insulted by what you’ve said. Instead, he seems fascinated. He seems grateful, like you’ve sat down to help him with an especially baffling puzzle. “What would he want from us, do you think?”

“I think he wants to know that his time in Comet wasn’t wasted. That even if he leaves, he will still be a part of this family. I think he wants to be acknowledged. He doesn’t want pity or awkward silences, he doesn’t want to pretend that the accident never happened. He wants to know that his life will go on in spite of it.”

Daeron ruminates on this, taking a bite of his towering mound of shaved ice. “If I said something about him at the last Tokyo show tomorrow, do you think he’d mind? I’ve had this idea for a while, but I didn’t know how he’d take it.”

“That depends on what you say.”

Daeron asks, peering up at you with large pale eyes: more translucent than Aegon’s, more harmless than Aemond’s. He has been shown more kindness than either of them; he is perhaps less deep, less singularly brilliant, but also less burdened. It is a trade many would happily agree to. It is a trade they would pay for in blood. “What should I say?”

You smile at Daeron. “The truth.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’d like to take a moment to share something with all of you,” Daeron says into his microphone as soon as Comet finishes The Worst Way To Be. The audience lowers their cheers to a reverent, intensely attentive murmur.

“Wait, what?” Baela whispers to you and Rhaena as you stand in the front row. Shelby, who had been looking rather bored, whips out her phone and begins a live stream. Aegon, Jace, Luke, and Cregan are upbeat and beaming—as is expected of them, as is required—but they pass each other nervous glances like folded paper notes in a high school classroom. This is not in the script.

“I just want to say thank you,” Daeron continues. His voice reverberates off the walls of the Budokan. “Thank you to all of you guys, of course. Our amazing, incredible fans. Thank you for letting us live this dream of a life.” There are claps and whistles, shrieked declarations of undying adoration. Daeron takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking; you can see the microphone tremble. “And thank you to my big brother Aemond.” Instantaneously, the crowd goes as close to silent as it is possible for a stadium at max capacity to be. The others are gawking at him openly now, unable to paper over it with masklike smiles. “I had been following Comet around for years before I got the offer to officially join. So I know how much work and talent Aemond poured into this band. I’m beyond honored to be up on this stage tonight performing for all of you, but I wish it could have happened a different way. I wish Aemond could be here too. And no matter where he goes in the world or what he does next, he will always be the person who made Comet Donati possible. And he will always be my greatest inspiration. I love you, man. We all love you.”

And the audience erupts into deafening cheers and applause, all for a soul who could not bring himself to attend the show. There are chants of We love you, Aemond! that go on for more than five minutes. Aegon is shouting as loudly as anyone; Jace, Luke, and Cregan are running around the stage and encouraging the crowd. They are a little shellshocked, but they are genuine.

Even Jace, you think, you marvel. Even Jace is honoring him. He doesn’t hate Aemond after all. He provokes and he taunts, sure, and he crosses lines on occasion, but Jace doesn’t hate Aemond. He might even miss him.

For their last night in Tokyo, Criston has grander aspirations for the band than the usual wind down in Jace’s suite. He gets everyone—Aemond included, fetched from the bar of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, already several Brambles deep—into the Escalades to drive to Club Camelot, where Criston has reserved one of the three floors for Comet. It swiftly fills like a flute of champagne: women in sparkling gowns, men with baiting smiles, security guards and label executives and friends and acquaintances and models. The tiles on the floor are black and white, but bathed in sapphire luminescence that covers everyone like rain. Empty hands are filled with frosty bottles and glasses clinking with ice. The song that thunders out of the speakers is a throwback: Butterfly by Crazy Town.

Cregan has acquired a harem of sorts; you look once and he’s flocked by three gazelle-like companions, you look again and there are five of them. Jace is mingling freely. Aemond is talking to Daeron—thanking him, it appears, offering heartfelt gratitude—while Shelby greets a pack of influencer-types as they arrive. They squeal and jump up and down with her in their clicking stilettos, then take turns snapping each other’s pictures. Criston actually appears to be somewhat relaxed. He sips on a Sapporo Premium and chats with one of the guys from the label, gesturing casually with his expressive hands. Aegon is curled up in a booth with Selena Gomez. Yes, Selena freaking Gomez. He keeps playing with her glossy dark tresses and making her giggle, propping his sunburned face up on his knuckles, glowing in that way that he does. It’s not just for you. It’s never been just for you. And sometimes he’s close to you and sometimes he’s not, and right now he’s on the other side of the solar system, he’s out in the Oort cloud, he’ll be back to visit earth in a few hundred years. Aegon disappears into the bathroom every few minutes. You see smudges of white powder on his hands, under his nose. If he tried to talk to you right now, you wouldn’t know what to say to him. He would feel like a stranger.

You’re watching Aemond. You wish you weren’t, but you are. He’s in all black, the top three buttons of his shirt undone. You nurse a Bramble and follow Baela, Rhaena, and Luke around the dancefloor, barely able to hear them over the music. Luke is lightheartedly making fun of Baela for something. Her earrings? Her shoes?

“I’ll have you know that I’m very important around here!” Baela cries over the music. “I’m the patron saint of drive!”

“Patron saint of driving herself to the Gucci store, maybe,” Luke says.

They’re all laughing. You feel like you’re observing them through a transparent wall, like you’re at the aquarium and they’re a dazzling rare species and you’re some grubby kid with your palms pressed to the glass. What am I still doing here? Why did I ever think I belonged here?

You break away from Baela, Rhaena, and Luke and drift by Shelby and her fellow influencers, not intending to eavesdrop but catching a few fragments of their conversation like Jupiter and Saturn capture moons. As Aemond talks to Daeron across the room, Shelby is lamenting her love life. She thinks she’s being discrete, but she’s had more than a few gin and tonics.

“No, he still…he probably doesn’t want me looking at him…he’ll let me blow him, but he won’t actually…you know…?”

And you remember what you told him on that balcony in Reykjavik: I think you haven’t fucked anyone since the accident, and you’re terrified to.

You were right. You’re still right. And here you are, like mirrors: Aemond not fucking Shelby, you not fucking Aegon, and there’s no especially good reason for either except that it just doesn’t feel right. After a while, Shelby and her entourage leave to check out another nightclub down the block. More photo opportunities, you suspect. A change of scenery.

“How’s your wrist?” Jace inquires. He’s found you loitering on the outskirts of the dancefloor. He’s wearing a black sequined blazer with nothing underneath except skin and ink. He’s unsteady on his feet, a Vesper sloshing in his glass. Now the song that’s playing is Ed Sheeran’s I Don’t Care, featuring Justin Bieber. In the booth she’s sharing with Aegon, Selena Gomez audibly groans.

“Great. It actually feels better when no one talks to me.”

Jace cackles, far too loudly. “You are hilarious. Hey, hey, listen.” His free hand skates around your waist. Instinctively, you jolt away from him.

“Nope.”

“Listen.” He grips you more adamantly. “Let’s do this.”

“No, no, that’s a very kind offer but I’d rather chew off my own limbs, thank you.”

“Look, I don’t care if you’ve hooked up with Aegon,” Jace purrs into your ear, sweating out vodka and gin, his curls brushing against your cheek. “Hell, I don’t care if you’re still hooking up with Aegon. I’m better than him. I have to be, right? That fat drunk. I’ll show you.”

You try to pull away from him again. You’re wearing the short sparkly dress you bought in Reykjavik, black velvet and silver stars. “Jace, don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Stargirl, give me a shot—”

“Jace,” you say harshly, your eyes blazing. “Do not touch me.”

“Okay,” he sighs; and, to his credit, he releases you. He holds up his palm in surrender. “Okay, fine, but when you change your mind—”

Aemond soars in out of nowhere, a comet, a meteor, the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. His fist connects with Jace’s jaw. Jace’s Vesper goes flying; blood spurts from his mouth, split lips and lost teeth. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” Aemond is roaring. He has Jace pinned to the floor, black and white and sapphire and red. “When she says not to touch her, you don’t, you hear me?!”

People are screaming and descending upon them, trying to pull them apart. Your Bramble shatters against the tile floor. Criston is here, and security guards, and Baela and Rhaena and Luke and Aegon. Everyone is talking at the same time, so it’s almost like no one is. Jace is striking at Aemond from the ground. Aemond hits him again, and again, knuckles into defenseless flesh and bone, blood vessels bursting, nerves on fire. The music stops, the lights come on.

“Aemond, stop!” you shout. “Aemond, Aemond, you’re going to kill him!”

“Let him go, Aemond, please!” Baela is yelling, and there’s raw terror in her voice.

Then Jace lands a solid punch at last, a hook that comes in from Aemond’s left. Blood pours from Aemond’s nose, it’s on his face and his throat, it’s running down his chest. Cregan arrives, locks his arms around Aemond’s waist, and heaves him away. Before Jace has a second to recover, Aegon wrenches him up by the collar of his blazer and slaps him open-handed across the face.

“He can’t see on that side, you fucking snake!”

Criston bellows: “Aegon, back up, back up, back the fuck up!” He finally gets a good look at Jace: bleeding, bruised, teeth missing, blinking dazedly at the spectators, too stunned to feel the pain yet. “Oh my God!” Criston whirls to Aemond, who is struggling against Cregan’s grasp. “How’s he going to perform in five days, huh?! Jesus Christ, he looks like he’s been butchered! How am I going to cover that up?! How is he going to sing?!” Criston pulls Jace to his feet; he practically has to carry him. Baela follows after them, more distressed than you’ve ever seen her, flowing tears and strangled sobs. Rhaena and Luke go too.

You, Aegon, and Daeron rush to Aemond. He’s bent over and spitting blood onto the floor so he doesn’t choke on it. “Not broken,” Cregan pronounces after examining his nose. “Just gonna bleed real bad. Needs pressure on it.”

“Are you okay?” Aegon asks you, a hand careful and tender on your face. He’s back again, for a minute, an hour, a day.

Your voice quakes. “Yeah.”

“What did Jace do…?”

“Nothing, nothing that bad, I mean he grabbed my waist but—”

“Aegon?” Selena Gomez says tentatively, waiting nearby and hugging her arms around herself.

“Yeah, one second, love. Give me a second.” He appraises Aemond and whistles. “Man, you are wrecked.” And not just physically. He’s incensed, he’s in shock. You reach for Aemond’s hand and he lets you take it.

“You got him?” Cregan asks you.

“I’ll clean him up. I’ll take care of him.” And as blood continues to run down his face, you draw Aemond towards the bathrooms. You lead him inside the women’s room and lock the door, blue walls and white florescent light. Somewhat ungainly—relying mostly upon your non-dominant hand—you press a pile of paper towels against his nose and tell him to hold it there. Then you wet more paper towels and wipe down his knuckles, his face, his throat. The blood on his chest has run beneath his glossy black shirt. We match, you think randomly. “Can I…?”

He yanks the shirt over his head, then returns the mass of crimson-stained paper towels to his nose. Fortunately, the bleeding appears to be slowing. You erase the smudged trail of scarlet that runs all the way to the waistline of his dark jeans. When you reach the end of it, Aemond flinches away from you; not a pained flinch, but a fearful one. He turns his back on you and walks to the other end of the small and shadowless room. He braces one palm against the wall and sighs deeply. He throws the wad of paper towels in the trashcan and then covers his face with his hand, shaking his head.

“Aemond,” you say. And you wait for him to look you in the eye. It takes a long time. “What do you want?” Why were you watching me and Jace? Why did you lose control?

“Nothing,” he replies immediately.

“That’s a lie.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” you insist, your voice fracturing. “It does matter. Just tell me what you want.”

“Why, so you can let me down easy? Or worse, pretend to be into it to make me feel better, to help piece me and my fragile little ego back together? I don’t beg for anything. You really think I’m going to beg you to want me?”

“No, you’re too fucking proud, you’d never even ask for it. You’ll beat people half to death for things you’re too much of a coward to say out loud, and I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?!”

“Then why are you even in here with me?! Just go back to Aegon, I know that’s what you want. I guess you’ll have to wait in line behind Selena Gomez, but he’ll work his way back around to you eventually.”

“Jace stole something from you, right?” you say. “You feel like he stole the band from you after you were kicked out, and then tonight you felt like he was stealing something else, and that’s why you freaked out and almost murdered him—”

“No. No, because you’re not mine.”

“What do you want, Aemond?” you ask him again, tears of exhaustion and desperation in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he says, coming in closer. “So you’re absolved, you’re free to go, I don’t need your goddamn charity—”

Your good hand juts out, and what you plan to do is plant it against his bare chest and push him away. What you do instead—as if by muscle memory, a reflex, an instinct—is reach up to plunge your fingers into his hair. And then his palm is cradling the small of your back and his lips are on yours, moving seamlessly like how currents thread through the ocean. He helps lift you up onto the counter; there is just enough room between two of the sinks. Your legs link around Aemond as he presses himself to you, lips still tinged with coppery blood, bare chest, his waist, his hips. Your back hits the mirror—cool and unyielding, the ink of his lyrics flat against the glass—with enough force to make a thump.

“Are you okay—?”

“I’m more okay than I’ve been in years.”

He tilts up your chin and kisses you deeply, dizzyingly, his tongue darting between your lips. He tastes like his Brambles, sweetness cut with the bite of gin, and smoke, and something else too, something that’s just purely him, something you could drown in like the river of his clear right eye. Gently, you bring your fingertips to his face, to his scar. “Don’t,” he pleads softly, pained.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Don’t—”

“Aemond, look at me.” And you hold his face still so you know he hears you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There has never been anything wrong with you.”

You watch it hit him like a stone into water, ripples that wash away everything he’s felt before. He knows you mean it, he can feel it, the same way you can feel the care with which he caresses you, not just lust but engulfing warmth, wordless veneration. He whispers between kisses: “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

Your lock your gaze with his, then reach down to unbutton his jeans. It’s difficult with the splint, but you manage. You think he might stop you, you prepare yourself for it, but he doesn’t. Instead, Aemond’s hands vanish beneath your dress and slip off your panties, black lace you hadn’t planned on anyone seeing tonight. As you kiss his face—jagged scar, flushed cheek, the slope of his jaw—his fingers slide into a pool of staggering heat and wetness.

He moans. “Oh fuck, that’s for me?”

“I’ve wanted this from the start.”

“Show me…show me how you like it…”

You guide his hand to exactly the right spot and give him a rhythm, a pressure, a pace that rolls a euphoric shudder down your spine. He’s barely touched you, and already you’re shaking all over; you’re throbbing, you’re dazed with that delicious needful aching, you’re gasping into the sweltering, salt-strewn dampness of his neck. His fingertips stroke you in commanding circles—only a few times—until you’re on the precipice, until you stop him. You’re ready, even though he’s huge: long and thick, revealed as he tugs down his jeans and boxers. He pins your uninjured hand against the mirror and kisses and bites at your throat as he eases himself inside you: a stretching that is intense but not unpleasant, hunger being satisfied. And when he thrusts—carefully at first, waiting for you to tell him he can be rougher—there are so many layers of pleasure that it stuns you, it leaves you speechless. Has it ever been like this before? Never, never, never, not once, not for a moment, not with anybody. His future was stolen from him, but he’s taken your past from you; he’s carved it out like a gemstone from the earth and locked it away in a vault no one remembers the passcode to.

“I’m so close,” you whisper, you beg. “Aemond, please, please, I want to come for you…” And you gasp as his fingers skim down your belly again, stroking you forcefully as his thrusts become deeper, quicker, impossibly powerful.

His voice is low and murmuring. His scent is everywhere; it’s all you know how to breathe. “You okay, baby? You alright?”

“Yes, yes, oh God, Aemond, don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so well, you’re almost there.”

“Aemond…yes…I love this…”

“I love you.”

He what…? He WHAT…??

And it doesn’t just drag you over the edge; it pushes you, it propels you, you go plummeting off the cliffside and freefall for miles. There’s no disguising it. You have to bury your face in his chest to keep from crying out, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving indents like crescent moons. Aemond, fighting his own climax viciously, lasts just long enough to fuck you through the aftershocks and then empties himself not just physically but also of the shame and aimlessness of the past seven months, of his fears, of his suspicions.

“Wait,” you say as he pulls away from you. You yank a paper towel out of the dispenser and wet it with cold water. First you cool his forehead and the back of his neck with it, then you wipe his fingers and his cock. Still perched on the counter, you wet another paper towel for yourself.

“No,” Aemond tells you. “Let me.” He takes it from you, opens your thighs, and kisses your mouth—teasingly, biting and sucking your lower lip—as he spreads your folds and cleans them of his seed, abundant hot white fluid that you can feel dripping out of you. As he passes over where you are most sensitive—where you can already feel longing for him rebuilding brick by brick—you jump a little, and you both laugh. I could go again, you think. I could do this with him forever. And then, as Aemond descends from the chemical high like a plane gliding down towards a tarmac, you watch as those old familiar poisons—shame, aimlessness, fear, suspicion—begin to fill up in him again, slowly but unmistakably.

He throws out the paper towels and takes several steps back. He starts putting on his clothes, staring at the wall, then at the mirror, not at you but past you, at himself, his clear river-blue eye wide and vacant. He looks horrified by what he’s done; or perhaps, rather, by what he’s said.

You grab your panties off the counter and step into them, readjusting your dress. “Look, uh…if you didn’t mean what you said…that’s totally cool. I get it, sometimes people say things in the moment that aren’t real, there’s the oxytocin and the dopamine, and I don’t want you to feel…uh…you know…like you have to keep up a false pretense or anything…”

Aemond turns around and walks out of the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

“Okay,” you say to yourself. “Okay. I can fix this.” You use the toilet quickly—UTIs are not welcome here—and then head out onto the dancefloor.

The lights are dim again, and thank God for that; your makeup is smudged, your hair unruly, your eyes glazed, your dress rumpled and stained. Cregan is the only person still waiting. “Hey,” he says flatly, then squints at you. You avoid his astute greyish eyes.

“Hey. Where is everyone?”

“Criston took Jace to the hospital. Baela is there too. Rhaena and Luke are back at the hotel. Aegon is presumably balls deep in Selena Gomez. Aemond just sprinted out of this club and I’d guess he’s headed back to the hotel too. Daeron went after him. I think that’s everybody.”

You shift your weight from foot to foot uneasily. “Shelby?”

“Oh, right. Haven’t seen her. Still out with her friends.” His eyes sweep over you. “On a scale of one to ten, how homicidal would she be if she found out about whatever happened in that bathroom?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Uh huh.” Cregan strides towards the stairwell that leads down to the front door. “Let’s go.”

Back at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, you swipe your keycard and flick the lights on in your suite. You stand there alone, feeling the evidence of what you’ve done: sore muscles and bruised skin and pooling wetness, both yours and his. You are absorbed with thoughts of what you’re going to say to Aemond when you confront him, how much of your truth you are willing to bare. And then your eyes catch on the small trashcan beside your bed, which reminds you of the one back in Singapore, which reminds you of your pack of birth control pills discarded on a pile of crumpled soda cans and snack wrappers.

I haven’t taken a pill in days. How many days? A week?

“Oh my God,” you breathe. And then, more frantically: “Oh no, oh no, no no no…”

What do I do? What the hell do I do?

You race out into the hallway and knock on Baela’s door. Nobody answers. You try Rhaena’s next. She appears in her pajamas, pink and dotted with tiny green Tyrannosaurus rexes. “Hi,” she says agreeably enough, but she’s rubbing her eyes drowsily.

“Hi. I’m really, really sorry to bother you, but it’s an emergency.”

She perks up considerably. “Okay, how can I help?”

“Where’s Luke?”

“In the shower.”

“So he can’t hear us right now?”

“No, he can’t.”

“Good. Do you know when Baela will be back from the hospital?”

“Not anytime soon,” Rhaena says. “She messaged me that Jace needs stitches and has a concussion. They’ll be there all night, at least.”

You exhale, a defeated little squeak. “Is Aegon around? With or without Selena Gomez?”

“No, they haven’t come back yet. I have no idea where they are.”

“Okay.” You swallow noisily.

“What’s going on with you?” Rhaena asks, concerned.

“This really is not a Rhaena situation. This is a Baela or Aegon situation.”

“Alright, but neither of them are here. So I’m who you’ve got.”

You stare at her. “I need Plan B. Do you happen to have any Plan B?”

“Plan B…? Like, you just had unprotected sex with someone Plan B?”

“Yes, exactly, that one.”

Rhaena gapes, scandalized. “With who?!”

“Confidential,” you say briskly. “Do you have any or not?”

“No, I definitely don’t have any Plan B lying around.”

“No,” you groan. Tears are welling up in your eyes. “What am I going to do? How do I get Plan B in Japan?!”

“We’ll figure this out,” Rhaena says. She dashes to her nightstand to grab her iPhone. “Don’t panic. It’ll be okay. Let’s Google 24-hour pharmacies in Tokyo…”

You don’t have Criston here to summon an Escalade—nor would you willingly risk him finding out about this—but Rhaena uses Google Translate to ask the hotel’s front desk to call a taxi. She shows the taxi driver an address, figures out how many yen you owe him, and then asks him very politely (if haltingly) in Japanese to wait ten minutes while you’re inside the pharmacy so you can take a return trip as well. He seems to agree.

Rhaena accompanies you into the pharmacy and repeats these steps: Google Translate, an exchange of yen, the receipt of a service. She tells you that based on her quick research, Plan B is usually by prescription only in Japan, but pharmacists will sometimes be willing to prescribe it on the spot to a patient in need. Rhaena spends a long time typing out a message for the middle-aged, bespectacled pharmacist, then points to you. This is my friend, the maybe-pregnant slut from Missouri, you imagine her saying. She needs emergency contraception. It’s really in all of humanity’s best interests for her not to continue her bloodline.

“You have to show him your ID,” Rhaena tells you.

You give your passport to the pharmacist, and then he hands you a small package. You and Rhaena purchase a bottle of Coke Zero as well. You gulp down the single tablet as the pharmacist watches with bushy raised eyebrows, amused. You are pleased to discover that the taxi driver has waited, and within fifteen minutes you and Rhaena are back at the hotel.

“You’ve talked to a lot of people tonight,” you tell Rhaena matter-of-factly as you ride the elevator back up to the band’s floor.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I did. I mean, I’ve been practicing. And you needed me.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say.

Rhaena smiles sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“And I’ll be even more proud of you when I get my period.”

She giggles, she trots off to her suite, you retreat into yours. You collapse onto the floor and gaze up at the ceiling, studying the specks and grooves in the tiles like constellations.

“It was only one time,” you say to the ceiling. “I was on the pill for years. That takes a while to leave my system, right? I mean, what are the odds? It’s fine. It’s totally fine. Nothing’s going to happen, right?”

Right?

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #Aegon Targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #Aegon II Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen II x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader

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knightprincess · 11 months

Text

Moon Goddess (Commander Wolffe x Medic Reader

Word Count: 1.3k Warning: Super fluffy Wolffe (I refuse to apologize) Note: Reader is a Night Sister (She/her pronouns used)

Wolffe had always been known for his stoic persona, the tough exterior with little patients for those who annoyed him—the signature eye roll when attempting to hold back some snarky comment. To the outside world, he was little more than another battle-worn Clone Commander with a brilliant tactical mind and commitment to getting the job done. But to those who truly knew the Wolf Pack's leader, he was protective, caring, and loyal to the letter. Despite what his rough exterior would say, he enjoyed the quieter moments of shore leave. He enjoyed watching the boys let loose and have fun, even if he did have to break up a few fights or retrieve some from the military prison afterward.

Yet there was one thing Wolffe looked forward to when news of shore leave came. Going to the quiet silver apartment skyscraper not too far from the military base. Visiting the beautiful medic to reside there. (Y/N) was her name, she was a Night Sister from Dathomir. The pair had met when Wolffe had lost his eye at the hands of Ventress, at first he'd been weary of (Y/N), he'd been rude to her, letting his anger and frustration for what happened out on her, despite her doing nothing more than trying to help. (Y/N) had remained calm, listening as he ranted and gently tended to his scarring injury. She'd shown kindness when few other civvi medics would have.

Wolffe could remember his search for her. He'd regrettably not gotten her name then. So when he'd been on shore leave again following his injury, he'd tried to find her. Although hadn't been successful, he'd asked around. Most of the civvi medics had cowered away from him in fear and likely judgment. Comet, Boost, and Sinker had all offered their help in looking for the medic Wolffe referred to as the mysterious Night Sister. Even Cody had offered to keep an eye out for the Dathomirian woman. Only when word reached Fox, did Wolffe finally find out her name. The Commander of the Coruscant Guard knew her well and was often tasked with escorting her to and from the military base. With her name, also comes the information she'd been temporarily paired with the 187th Legion and had been sent out into the field.

The Commander of the 104th Legion soon pulled himself from the stroll down memory lane, finding himself outside the towering apartment complex. A small grin appeared on his lips, knowing his Moon Goddess would be waiting in the small paradise she'd created on the balcony of her penthouse apartment. A garden that never ceased to amaze Wolffe or bring him a foreign sense of peace. The Coruscant Moon above always bathes the tranquil garden making it appear even more magical than normal.

"You're late again" came the soft voice of (Y/N) the moment she'd heard him enter her apartment. She'd been reading a book on one of the plush sofas, her eyes never leaving the pages, although the softest of smiles graced her pale lips. Wolffe wasted little time in following his normal routine when visiting the homely apartment. Rigorously taking off his armor and placing each piece in the footlocker (Y/N) had gotten especially for him.

"Could my dear goddess find it in her heart to forgive me?" questioned Wolffe, his words as even as her own had been before. A smirk appeared on his lips upon turning his attention to (Y/N), seeing her perched on the edge of the sofa, she'd previously been spread across, the soft breeze flowing from the open balcony doors blowing her hair slightly. "Forgive me for being late home again" effortlessly worded the battle-worn commander, watching as her eyes shone with surprise, an expression painted on her pale grey features to match. "What?" questioned Wolffe, when her shocked expression didn't disappear.

"You called this place home" commented (Y/N), her soft grin reappearing, as his word slowly sunk in. Wolffe merely stepped closer to her, his own stern expression seemingly replaced with one of relaxation and undying affection for the woman before him.

"What else would it be?" asked the battle-worn Commander, as he finally came into arms reach of her. Wasting little time in pulling her closer, into the customary affectionate embrace and stealing a kiss from her mere seconds later. (Y/N), offered a small giggle shortly afterward, wasting little time in welcoming him home once more. With little hesitation (Y/N) directed him towards his favorite place, waltzing off toward the kitchen mere seconds later if only to fetch his favorite fruity drink and snacks. "What did I do to deserve such a Goddess?" voiced Wolffe, tearing his gaze from the view from the balcony, only for it to land on a better one.

(Y/N) chuckled as she placed the tray she'd been carrying on the small side table between the two comfy sun loungers. Wolffe wrapped his arms around her from behind, turning her to the view from the paradise the balcony offered. His chin rested on her shoulder as the breeze blew over the pair. The shimmering moon seemed even bigger from there, nothing seemed to overshadow it, not even the noise of the traffic below could disturb the peace to flow over Wolffe now. (Y/N) soon turned her head slightly, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Hearing the sigh escape him, knowing he'd be reluctant to leave when the time came again.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum cyare'ika" whispered Wolffe, being sure his words were only loud enough for (Y/N) to hear. Ensuring they would remain a secret from the rest of the galaxy. "This war may be cruel and its own brand of torture, but it also brought me to you" effortlessly voiced the Commander of the Wolf pack, his rare softness remaining even when his mind took him to the teasing his brothers had subjected him to. Sinker, Comet, and Boost always with something to say when he'd return to the base when shore leave ended, Fox too would make a comment or two. Cody would simply ask if he knew of another who'd be willing to give him a chance at the same happiness. Whereas Rex would simply give that knowing smile and welcome him back. General Plo had long since worked out what brought an immovable grin to his lips, yet never said a word of it, instead wishing him a good few days away from the war and asking how the shore leave went upon returning.

"Nu nulis tu kian, nuyak, Menuo Massassi" replied (Y/N), speaking a language she was sure most of the galaxy would have forgotten. Although the language had an undesirable reputation of being associated with the Sith, it was also the language of her native Dathomir. Wolffe returned his loving gaze to her, an ire of curiosity glimmering in his golden eyes, highlighted by the moonlight cast upon both of them. "Love you too, my Moon Warrior" repeated (Y/N), once again calling him by his pet name, a name Wolffe only accepted from her.

"When the war's over, I'm taking you to find that peaceful place you dream about" commented Wolffe, opting not to say the words lingering on the edge of his tongue, knowing his Moon Goddess already knew she was his home. At the same time, the battle-worn Commander began to think about a future with (Y/N), going on an adventure together to find the peaceful paradise she'd dream about almost every night, the calm lake and soundless waterfalls, the endless rolling hills filled with grass blowing in the winds, the towns shattered across the landscape but also blending it to the picturesque scenery around them. A place the war hadn't reached nor existed. A place where love could be more than a well-kept secret between the two, more than a passing pet name.

"But for now, remember kar'taylir darasuum will ratiin cuyir olar" softly spoke (Y/N) turning herself in Wolffe's arms, placing her forehead to his, as she gently traced the scar down his eye. Finally allowing herself to be at peace, with the man who had captured her heart and refused to give it back. Instead, he'd entrusted her with his own fragile one, along with the silent promise of loving her for eternity and longer.

Masterlist

#star wars oneshot #Clone Commander Wolffe #Commander Wolffe #medic reader #Female reader #night sister reader #fluff #romantic fluff #fluffy wolffe #reader interactive #star wars reader insert #cross posted on AO3 #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on quotev

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siriusheadspace · 4 years

Text

illicit affairs - sirius black x reader

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You and Sirius start seeing each other in secret around Hogwarts since his best friend Remus has a crush on you, but is too shy to act on it. Inspired by "Illicit Affairs", by Taylor Swift.

A/N: God, all of a sudden I developed this hyper fixation with Sirius. I got a bunch of ideas for stories with him (and all of them inspired by songs lol) but this was the one that felt more structured. I haven't written in a while and English is not my first language so be kind lol

Words: 2k ish

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head Keep your eyes down

You could swear the entire Hogwarts castle heard your hitched breath while you tried to make your way to the Gryffindor tower as silently as possible. Sirius was the one to leave first this time, heading for his dormitory while you had to count to 300 - you forgot your watch this time. You were sure it was his time to wait, but you didn't contradict him after he zipped his pants, gave you one last rough kiss, and said "Later, then?".

Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return

It took some time to develop this relationship to the point where you didn't have to talk and check each other's stories to avoid being caught. You knew your friends and roommates didn't believe you were risking getting caught and losing house points just for a night walk around the castle, but they gave up on you telling them who you were seeing.

Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop

It started last year, in your sixth year in Hogwarts. You always had a crush on Sirius, but that's not uncommon - nearly every girl on your year couldn't help falling for his long, silky hair, his gray eyes, his long, yet toned body, and, of course, his devil may care attitude. But he never really paid attention to you, just some light flirting in a party at the Gryffindor common room one time; you were pretty sure he didn't know your name. But it changed last year. You can't quite point to when, exactly, you noticed the Marauders would go quiet once you walked by. But it got to the point where you would always notice. You'd pass by them on purpose, flattered by the attention Black was finally giving you. But you didn't notice that it was his friend, Remus, that gave you the most passionate looks.

What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

At a party right after a Quiddich match, you decided you would do something about it and give Sirius the chance to make a move. You took hours getting ready, borrowed a dress from a friend, the cleavage more revealing than anything else you ever wore, the fire whiskey burning your throat and your shyness. Once you came down the stairs, you could feel the glances at you, running up and down your body, another rush to add to the whiskey and to boost your confidence. Your friend group was close to the Marauders and you thanked the gods for it. You were all dancing together, and Remus excused himself after a few songs - you later figured he might be trying to get confident enough to make a move - once Sirius perfume got to you. Sandalwood, something citric and tobacco, all mixed to intoxicate you. You started dancing closer to him, and, in a spike of lust, grabbed his hand and went to an empty room. He looked confused but didn't complain when you pushed him against the wall and kissed him fervently. You felt his smirk, his excitement, once he pushed you back against a table and pulled your legs around him so he could lift you and sit you on it. He only stopped to catch his breath once you were panting and pulling his lower lip between your teeth. You felt like a goddess when his long fingers explored your body, lingering on your exposed curves. You unbuttoned his shirt while he unzipped your dress, and, without giving it a second thought, with a spark of pain between all the pleasure, you had your first time with the infamous Sirius Black.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares

When you were finished, the combination of soreness and embarrassment started to make your chest heavy - the first time of many. Sirius was a gentleman, though, helping you fix yourself enough so it wasn’t obvious that you were doing what you just did, not commenting on the blood, or when your nails pressed against the skin of his shoulders out of pain. You felt his stares during the next few weeks, trying to find a way of talking to him and meet him again, maybe on a date, something more romantic than snogging on dark, empty classrooms. One night, you were reading in the common room and noticed him alone, leaning against the wall, close to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Once he felt your eyes on him, he left the room, and you felt a rush, getting up, counting to ten, and following him to another empty classroom, where he quickly took your book off your hands and moved them to his neck.

It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

You were anxious to repeat his steps, standing against the wall, waiting for him to look at you. But he sure followed you to yet another empty room. That time, you actually had a conversation after you were done, but it was far from the romantic invitation for a date at Madame Puddifoot. "You need to be less obvious", he said, buttoning up his shirt. "I just did what you've done last time", you said, pulling your skirt up, feeling the warmness between your legs, the humiliation of being scolded like a kid by the person responsible for it. "But if it's going to happen that often", he smirked, "we have to figure out a way to do it in a way that people don't have to pay the tiniest amount of attention to find out, baby", he completed, and started scheming. You agreed to his plan: whenever any of you wanted to see the other, you'd send a note with a smiley face, something that wouldn't be revealing and wouldn't mean anything to anyone but the two of you, and you'd meet at three in the morning at the come and go room. "It's safe. And it has an appropriate name, don't you think?", he laughed, and you shot him a weak smile. He walked to the door but before he opened it, you put your hand on his arm. "Sirius", you said, and he noticed that he liked the way his name sounded on your lips when you were composed as well, and scolded himself for the flutter in his chest caused by it, "Are you doing something this weekend? I thought we could go to Madame Pu..." "We shouldn't be seen in public, doll", he said, trying to give you one of his smirks, but you noticed how his eyes still looked sad. It didn't matter, though - the weight of rejection pulled you down and you had to use all of your energy not to break down crying while going back to your room. Sirius went first. Once you were about to go up the stairs that would lead to your room, you heard his laughter with his friends coming from the other staircase. Unbothered by your encounter.

Leave the perfume on the shelf That you picked out just for him So you leave no trace behind Like you don't even exist

You've dealt with by rationalizing it in many different ways. You thought that the next time you got a piece of parchment with a smiley face, you'd just ignore him, happy to imagine him alone and pathetic, waiting for you. But you never had the strength to do it. You'd always fix your hair and some makeup and went straight back to his arms.

Take the words for what they are A dwindling, mercurial high A drug that only worked The first few hundred times

"Why does it have to be like this?", you asked, feeling brave, six months after your first encounter. "Y/N", he said - you felt a shiver up your spine like you always did when you heard your name in his voice - "I'm a bad friend. And I'm trying to avoid coming to terms with that", he completed with a sad smile on his face. Once he noticed your confusion, he explained how he started noticing you after Remus admitted to having a crush on you, but never had the guts to tell you. That Remus made him notice things about you he wasn't paying attention before - how your lips would pout when you were concentrating during Charms, how your soft curves were visible under the heavy wool of the sweaters you liked to wear - but it was you, in a burst of attitude, pushing him against a wall that made him give up on being a good friend for Remus on what concerned you.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And stolen stares They show their truth one single time But they lie, and they lie, and they lie A billion little times

You accepted your status as a shameful secret. Remus still gave you fond looks and eventually had the courage to get close to you, trying to help with your DADA homework, complimenting haircuts, holding doors open to you. And you thanked him with your heart full of guilt, Sirius' stare burning on your back. After one of your encounters, Sirius brushed his fingers against your cheek and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You were still shocked at the demonstration of affection when he left the room first, and you started counting to 300 again. 151… Is he falling for you? 208… It can't be. It has to be just physical. Why would he fall for you and still keep you as a secret? 299… It clicked. He could fall for you a million times, it would never be as important as his friendship with Remus. And you loved him a bit more because of that. 300.

And you wanna scream Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else

You tried seeing other guys. You went on dates, and you blushed at their compliments, but none of them had a fraction of the effect of Sirius had on you. You still hoped he noticed when one of them would hold your hand on the way to Hogsmeade. You could only hope it hurt him as much as it hurt you to see him flirt with other girls. To listen to his voice calling them "baby".

Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

One night, you were whispering his name with him already inside you, your shirt undone, your bra unclasped, your skirt pulled up, when the door opened. The pain in Remus’s eyes as he understood what was happening in front of him was something you knew you would never forget. Sirius left you there, dressing himself quickly while apologizing profusely to his friend. You turned around and tried to fix yourself, and they left without even looking back at you.

And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times

None of them ever spoke with you again. It was as if you were taboo. Even James and Peter wouldn't pay attention to you once you spoke in class or told a funny joke to your friend in the common room. You figured it was fair. They had to do what's best for their friendship. And if pretending you didn't exist was the price to pay for that, they'd all pay it. When you saw them all laughing together, joyful, you knew you'd do the same.

But, sometimes, you could swear you felt Sirius’ gaze against you. And you knew that was as close as he'd get to ever touching you again.

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Kjæreste (King Liam x f!MC)

Summary: They have a day all to themselves full of love and cute moments of togetherness🧡

Kjæreste: (Norwegian) Dearest, Beloved One; Term of endearment for one's romantic partner😍

A/N: This is the giveaway prize for my lovely @parkdoesthings who won a place in my followers and birthday celebration giveaway. Wren, I hope you like it and the way I used the prompts you gave me. Writing them for the first time made me nervous as well as happy. Really hoping that you like this🧡

Prompts used: @parkdoesthings gave me the prompts "I missed you, so much" kisses + dessert. In addition to these, I have used Prompt 3, 14 and 16 from this prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting. Feel free to send in more requests, I am always accepting!🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤎

Pairing: King Liam Rys X f!MC (Odette Dawson)

Word Count: around 2K

Rating: General

Category: Fluff

Triggers: A few curse words (Just 1 or 2)

OTHER WORKS

The golden hues filtered through the strains of the satin drapes, filling the place like the aroma of a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The birds taunted each other playfully, all lost in their plays. A few of them beckoned her to join them.

She certainly would have, if she had those mystic spells, radiating sparkles on clicking her fingers, turning into an appealing blue jay, adorning herself in the summery blues and whites, just like the sky right now.

She had been lying awake for quite some time now, sleep being a long-lost pal. The silk of her covers ran like water under her fingers, and if it were someone who had not been accustomed to it, the sensation would have been enough to cradle them into a deep siesta.

Finally, she pushed herself to get up. The gentle sloshing of water around her as she gently placed down herself into the dreamy tints of the bathroom soothed her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt as if she was in a pond amidst a forest, all alone enjoying the tranquillity, as the woody scents dazzled her senses and the solitary rose petals caressed her skin.

It was unwinding and comforting, not to live by a schedule, blabbering all day around with stupid dignitaries or argue about some variety of apples.

Ugh, Apples!

The only downside of marrying the king of Cordonia that she could think of. She could go on about her list of grievances she had with apples, but right now, if she thought about them for a second more, she would throw up.

And when in Loire Valley, never think of those gross little piece of mischief, she made it her motto.

Especially when they make you vomit.

The soft pink fabric fluttered in the merry breeze, the net covering her hands, making her look as elegant as the chandelier that now adorned her majestic room, every thread glowing like diamonds on a bracelet.

She gives a twirl, she wants to feel the fluffiness of the holiday, but yet she couldn't.

Not when there is someone she has been waiting for, eagerly, unabatingly.

Now and then, she would pick her cream-coloured cellular, glide to the balcony, leaning down to make out the appearance of a car, her chestnut brown locks dancing joyfully.

A shrill cajoled her out of her reverie, and her heart leapt to a beat of joy.

The soft music playing in the room seemed even more melodious to her as her feet lead her to the doorway with a swift dance-like motion.

She opened the door, the dazzling smile brightening up her face like a 100-watt bulb.

Only to find the waiter standing there with her breakfast.

Her face fell as if it was not a royal buffet, but trays full of apples in front of her.

And when the waiter blushed thinking that he was the reason for her joy, her anger built up like the pressure in a pressure cooker.

She knew a stream of rudeness would escape if she opened her mouth, hence she sealed her lips, put on the exercised smile and stepped aside for him to enter.

Breakfast was other-worldly. She had quite forgotten the sheer deliciousness a classic French breakfast carried in itself.

Her mouth was an adobe of butter, chocolate and coffee, and all her objections vanished with a bite of that melt-in-mouth croissant.

The weather showed a solemn change as the white were replaces by greys and the golden slowly muted down.

She didn't really love rains, any season for that matter, but she could deal with everything. She decided to go down for a stroll, deciding that she had little to do in this room all by herself.

The softness of the Earth under her shoes, the multitude of colours in front of her soft brown eyes, the splendid fragrances filling her nostrils, the melody of nature playing in a loop in her ears and the sweetness of the solitude making her heart flutter.

All her senses were enamoured as she twirled around the gigantic flower garden.

A golden yellow butterfly greeted her by landing on one of her fingers, wanting to hold her finger and take her on a tour around her adobe.

Both of them silently exchanged a few words, and Odette happily agreed to get enamoured by the fluttery beauties and silky petals.

But she hadn't taken a step when two palms softly covered her eyes. She was startled but knew better than to scream. Her heart told her that it was someone she knew and not someone who would try to harm her.

As if someone would even be able to get past the heavy security

Her ringed hand gently reached for the hands which were still placed on her eyes. She felt them, a metallic feel of a ring, gave her a serotonin boost. Her heart danced and the smile that was waiting for its chance finally spread on her face, making her look like a goddess.

With a gentleness equal to the one when they were placed, Odette removed the hands, didn't even bother to open her eyes and kissed the person behind her with so much love that one would have melted into golden honey by its power.

But he didn't.

Their love wasn't cancelling out each other, it was multiplying to become so powerful that it would engulf them forever.

Placing the foreheads together, Odette finally opens her orbs, which shone like brilliant diamonds, to look up at the person whose arrival she awaited. The blush that spreads on both of their faces is automatic.

He twirls the stray lock that adorned her beauty around his finger, his hand, the ringed one, tightly wrapped around her silk regalia.

"I missed you so much! You know how impatient I am, and yet, you made me wait." Odette whines lovingly, the smile never leaving even through her complaint.

"I am sorry, Ette! There was an emergency apple-themed event-"

Odette's eyes narrowed, and an unamused pout took the place of the preceding grin.

"Can we please skip the apple talks, please? I did not come here to escape about those vomit-inducing pieces of shit."

All the while, Liam chuckled, always amused by the thought that out of everyone, he fell in love with that gorgeous lady who hated apples.

"Soo... Now that you are finally here, what are we supposed to do? Just stand here staring at each other?"

"I mean, that wouldn't be bad either."

"C'mon, Li! I didn't travel all the way to here to stand and stare at you. I already do that, every time, at Cordonia." Even though she had spoken it matter-of-factly, it made him blush and grin.

Even more because he had been doing the same, every moment she had been with him, right from the day he met her.

But he had always been a hopeless romantic, she had not.

Whenever Odette told him that he was the one who had made her realize that love and soulmates actually exist, his heart would start running a marathon in his chest. He still couldn't comprehend how someone like him had ended up getting someone like her as his queen.

Every poem, every romantic song, pales in front of the hues of their love, and since words were not enough to express it, he made sure to show it to her, every day, every time, every moment of his life.

"We will do whatever you want to do! This vacation is all about you, after all." He said as she linked her arms into his, but not before she made a wordless promise to the butterfly that she would come back and go on the tour.

As Liam led them towards the car, Odette pulled him back.

"Not the car, Mr Rys. Loire valley has enigmatic forests, and if we are not doing a forest trail, we will seriously miss out on the greatest beauty, the beauty of nature."

And he was in awe, again.

This is the side of Odette that makes her the queen he wanted by his side. How much respect and appreciation she has for everything, especially nature. He happily gave in to her demand.

The soft crunch of some dried leaves and the earthy scents enveloped the area. It wasn't secluded, now and then, the excited chirps and melodious tweets of the feathered beings spread through the air.

Odette's eyes joyfully travelled all around her, the multitude of chrome spreading a happy surprise through her heart.

"My Queen"

She looked up at him, their browns dissolving into each other.

"You know what these hues remind me of?"

"What?" She asked in a silent whisper.

"You."

"Your colours. The multi-chrome of your attributes, and the elegance they add to your persona. They make you charismatic"

"Liam, Yours is the only colour I want to get painted in."

Their lips meet like muscle memory, without any initiation. It was a reflex registered in the record book of their cerebrum.

Their thoughts entangled, arm around each other, the trail ended before they realized. They were now standing in front of the eight o'clock café.

"It isn't eight o'clock yet, but there is something special I've got arranged in here for you." Odette winked, pulling him in.

A few silent whispers later, Odette took Liam to the secluded first floor of the café, only for him to get the surprise.

The arrangement was a large table with his favourite board games, Carcassonne and Scrabble, neatly arranged on it. If he had been a kid, he would have screamed up and down, and circle danced with her.

No one had ever done something like this for him, and he doubted someone ever would.

Well, except her.

The next hours were filled with mindless laughs, funny fights, fake waves of anger and joyful screams.

The voids between those were filled with delicious coffee and melt-in-mouth gelato that had been specially arranged, again by Ette.

She had ordered flavours he had not heard of, and with the constant consumption, he had become a fan of the chocolate fondente flavoured one.

Utterly tired of the endless rounds of gameplay, they finally took their leave while thanking the people their generously for bearing their shenanigans.

Who would have guessed that board games would be so much fun even after years of not playing?

Not them, definitely.

"Just one more spot, and then we will go back, I promise." Odette winked, again.

He doubted if he would ever be able to refuse to her enigma even if he wanted to. One look and he would do anything to make her smile the way he likes.

The surprise that emerged in front of him posed such a stark contrast to the one before that for a moment he felt like he had got a tour of the polar opposites.

His eyes travelled up to the dazzling Ferris Wheel, standing majestically up before them.

"Just executing my idea of experiencing opposites in a day, that's it."

He wanted to kiss her as his life depended on it. But before he could get hold of her, she was already rushing towards the ticket counter, and he followed.

It was the last ticket, and gladly, they had managed to get it. They rushed to enter their cabin, hand in hand, adsorbing the cheerful air around.

The view that met their eyes was heavenly, like a piece of God's adobe fixed neatly amidst the man's land. Their eyes shifted once outside, and the next minute they found themselves staring at each other, eyes sparkling like stars of the endless sky.

She was his flower moon, the happiness and love she brings to his life matching with the fertility and flowers May brings with itself, which is what the Flower Moon symbolizes.

She shines differently from everyone, a unique sight for anyone who lays their eyes upon her, dazzling brilliantly.

The brilliance that pales every obstacle, every pain with the power of her love, she was destined to stay with him forever.

The wordless promise he made holding her hand, that he would fight with the worst if it was to keep her in his heart's labyrinth.

She was the one who made his heart beat, after all.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @jessiembruno

Liam x Odette: @anotherbeingsworld @ao719 @hopelessromanticmonie @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

something part 3--calum hood

A/N: This is it! The final piece! Thank you for bearing with me while I took you on this rollercoaster of emotions and for being so kind while I took my break. Much love💕

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking weed, dealing with heartbreak, sexual situations

Part one || Part two

***

Five months have gone by and Calum tried to push the idea to publicly date Missy away as best he could. The guys even tried to help, but inevitably he was forced to say yes. Calum’s reading over the itinerary he and Missy have to follow over his morning coffee. He takes a sip remembering when she was brought in to discuss the arrangements. It was the Monday following the best and worst weekend of his life with Y/N.

Calum’s body language is screaming ‘leave me the fuck alone I’m pissed’ as he sits slouched in the chair, arms folded against his chest and his hands in fists. His facial expression mirrors a rock, hard and unforgiving as Missy walks in with her manager and the band’s PR liaison. He watches her with hard eyes take a seat next to him, Calum purposely shifts his chair far away from her. She frowns slightly then smiles politely to the rest.

Calum listens as the team discusses the arrangement. How it will benefit both the band and up the ante on her modeling career.

“To be tied with one of the most desirable bachelors will increase magazines wanting to feature you,” Christina the liaison explains excitedly. Calum can’t help but snort.

“Pair her with Styles’ then, he’s more notorious than I am,” Calum grumbles.

“We couldn’t get in contact,” Missy’s manager says, her voice clipped as she narrows her eyes at Calum. “It will boost record sales for your music—”

“And we want the first single to be the love song, ‘Through the Dark.’”

Ashton, Michael, and Luke’s heads whip to Calum who has become even more outraged. It can’t be that song; he wrote that about Y/N.

“With the new romance rumors and the song, it will be a hit in no time, probably surpassing the charts of Ariana Grande and Styles combined.”

“No, we’re not having that be the single,” Ashton tries to dissuade the agreement that neither member of the band was a part of.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t written about Missy,” Calum says. His voice is as monotonous as his face. From the corner of his eye, he sees Missy look at him with a quizzical look.

“So what? No one will know except the people in this room. The relationship will last about eight months, until the album is officially released, and touring starts. You’ll inevitably break up because Missy will be too busy modeling around the world and you gentleman will also be touring. Everybody wins.”

There’s grumbles amongst the band, Calum’s jaw clicks in anger. He turns his gaze to the window, sees the clouds rolling in as his private life is being scheduled like he’s some sort of robot. He closes his eyes thinking of Y/N, and how she looked in that flower crown and then how she looked with the petals scattered in her hair like she was some type of goddess. Then he sees her with tears in her eyes.

“Calum?”

He opens his eyes and turns at the sound of his name. It’s just him and Missy in the conference room. He’s getting really tired of hearing his name if it’s not from Y/N’s lips. She moves a little closer to him in her chair, an apologetic look on her face.

“Kind of surprised ‘fake dating’ actually happens. I’ve heard rumors and look, they’re true.”

“Imagine that.” He rolls his eyes.

Missy feels the iciness in his tone, and she tries again.

“Look, this is weird for me, too. It was all my manager’s idea which is insulting because if I need a fake boyfriend to get more modeling gigs then her faith in me isn’t all that great. I don’t think of you that way—”

“Your kiss at my party said otherwise.”

“I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone. And…all right, maybe I did have a crush on but when that girl—”

“Y/N?”

“Right, her. When Y/N showed up and I saw the way you looked at her…I couldn’t compete with that. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Too late.”

“What happened? Maybe I could talk to her—”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it, Missy, all right? She’s not even talking to me, so I highly doubt she’d talk to you. The woman of my dreams ended things before they even began, and I couldn’t even tell her I love her.”

Missy’s quiet for a moment then offers a kind smile.

“Sounds like you want to talk about it a little….”

He pushes away from the table in a huff then stops with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll play this act if it helps you in some weird, twisted way but it means nothing to me. We’ll do all the proper pap shots and appearances but no physical contact whatsoever. Those are my limits.”

He storms out as he hears a quiet ‘okay’ and the guys are waiting for him down the hall. They try to reach out for him, but Calum continues walking.

Calum looks down at his notebook, sketches and doodles of flowers are scattered about the page. Their stems and vines looping through the words that are constantly running through his head. He takes a long drink of his coffee, letting the bitterness warm his insides.

After the meeting with management and Missy, Calum called Y/N. He texted her. He knocked on her door. It wasn’t until Crystal told him to give her space did he really back off. He knows Y/N didn’t mean what she said. That night they shared was something special. From how she was so perfect with his untimely manner to how she took care of him while he had allergies from the flowers he picked. And finally, to the way they connected.

The radio in his car is still broken, but he doesn’t listen to music anymore, he can’t because it reminds him of Y/N. Everything reminds him of her.

It’s not like Missy is a bad person. She’s actually become a good friend to Calum and respected his boundaries he set up for their ‘relationship.’ The only touching that happens is by her with her hand holding onto his arm, and even that is just for pictures. No hand holding, no hugs, no kisses.

She’s gaining the hype her manager wanted and Calum has remained off social media as soon as it started. When he’s not rehearsing with the guys or doing PR with Missy, Calum’s secluded himself to his home and music room all while being viewed like a goldfish in a bowl.

So, he writes. He writes about flowers in hair, flowers pressed between bodies and flowers held together by a chain. He also writes about strawberries. He hasn’t eaten one since he kissed her last.

Y/N’s been keeping herself busy, well, as much as she can. Everywhere she goes she’s reminded of Calum. Especially when she opens her closet and sees the small wooden box she placed his bouquet of flowers and flower crown in. She couldn’t find it in herself to throw them away.

That first week after what happened with Calum she spent it crying and listening to sad music. Her heartbreak had her rethink of past moments with Calum. All of the ‘what if’s’ are now ‘will nots.’ Which is way too close to ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ for her liking hidden in the petals of the flowers.

She ignored his calls and texts.

The first time she saw them together was a month after the whole ordeal. She thought she was in a good place and as she was scrolling through Instagram on her lunch break she saw the first picture. Calum and Missy were walking along the pier going in and out of shops. They were wearing sunglasses and Calum didn’t really show much emotion but if he knew paps were around, he never did.

What Y/N zeroed in on was Missy’s hand on Calum’s arm.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she closed the app without even reading the caption. She deleted her Instagram and Twitter apps that day.

When she got home she opened the box of flowers, their scent mixed in with the cedar wood twisted her heart. Very delicately, she lifted the bouquet from the box. Calum’s chain was still wrapped around the now dry, frail stems.

She should throw them out. She almost did. She couldn’t. The dried flowers were the only reminder that what happened between her and Calum was real. That it actually happened. How could she let that go? Even if he was the one that got away and kept getting away?

“You did this Y/N,” she muttered to herself placing the flowers back in the box. “You made him leave before you could get attached.”

The next day there was a knock at her door. Not expecting anyone she peeked through the curtains and saw it was Ashton with a pizza box and a plastic bag.

“Ashton…what are you doing here?” she asks upon opening the door.

“I come bearing gifts of the heartbreak kind,” he grins sheepishly holding up the box and bag.

“Is that a champagne bottle I see in that bag?” she asks seeing the slender neck and gold foiling.

“It is. And caramel ice cream.”

“All right. You can come in,” she allows stepping aside so he can enter.

“So,” he sighs falling heavily against the couch. The pizza box is open on her coffee table, he has a glass of water while Y/N is holding onto the bottle of champagne. His hazel eyes take her in, “how are you?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she scoffs pressing play on the Marvel movie. She decided on Infinity War. “It’s been a month, so you think I’d be okay. I was told that however long you were with someone, that’s how long it takes to get over them divided in half. So, if you’re with someone for a year, you should be over them in six months. Calum and I were…’together’ for a day so it should have been twelve hours, right? But nope.”

She takes a long chug of the champagne until it makes her eyes water from the bubbles. The sweet nectar bites at her tongue and teeth.

“Who told you that math?”

“An old boss of mine,” she shrugs.

“Well, it’s stupid as shit. There’s no time limit for how you fall for someone just as there’s no time limit for you to lose feelings. You have feelings when you have them.”

“We went on one date, Ashton. I shouldn’t be this bent out of shape over that.”

“Hey,” he pinches her shoulder affectionately until she looks at him. His face softens. “You and Calum always had something between you. From an outside perspective, I get why you both danced on that line between friends and something more. You’ve both been hurt and there was always something in the way.”

“Or someone,” her eyes drop at the thought of Missy. Then she thinks of the photo she saw of them and rubs at her eyes, so the tears won’t come.

“My point is,” he stresses grabbing hold of her hand, “you’re allowed to feel hurt and sad and angry.”

“I’m trying so hard to not feel that way all the time, but it…it’s so consuming sometimes.”

“I know. Before you drink the whole bottle, eat some pizza, we’ll watch the movie and we can talk some more, okay?”

About halfway through the movie Y/N’s hugging the ¾ full bottle against her chest as a comfort object. She never drinks her sadness away, she knows how dangerous that is, but it feels nice to have her head not feel so full because all her thoughts are tumbling out to Ashton. His arm is around her shoulders in comfort as she leans into him.

“You always thought there was something between us?” she asks.

“I didn’t think, I knew.”

“What’s the difference?” she stares at him quizzically; the bubbly made his words confusing. Ashton smiled at her response.

“He’d always tell me how he wanted to ask you out. He’d ask if you were coming to any dinner or party we had. But he was scared to ruin your friendship and in my opinion, I think it scared him how close you two got so fast.”

“Hmph,” she slumps against the inside of his arm.

“Your song played while we were driving that night, you know.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Drive,” she giggles at the comedy of it all. “He gave me wildflowers with his chain around it and bought me a flower crown.”

“It sounds like a great night.”

“It was! But then he got sleepy cause he was allergic to the flowers, then he passed out on me. But I liked it…” she takes the last sip of her champagne then pouts that it’s empty.

“One is enough for you,” Ashton chuckles placing the bottle next to the pizza box. He settles back next to her and they watch the movie for a moment.

“I saw their picture today,” she says somberly. “I know it’s fake. But they’re both a catch…so it’ll be no surprise that it’ll become real.”

“Y/N—”

“It happens all the time Ash,” she shrugs. “I’m the person before everyone’s happy ending.”

“That’s not true. Look at all you and Calum have been through together. This damn arrangement is a roadblock for sure, but you two are the final drive.”

“That…kind of makes sense. I can’t tell,” she shakes her head.

“It’d make sense a full champagne bottle ago,” he mutters but she hears him.

She nudges him in the ribs playfully until they’re both laughing.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says and moves down the hall.

Ashton checks his phone to see Luke is trying to console Calum, too. It was hard for him to act with Missy today. Luke reports that Calum has had only one drink but is smoking a lot of weed to help clear his head and wants to drive to Y/N’s house.

When Ashton has finished replying to keep an eye on him, Y/N is standing next to the couch. He looks up at her to see she has her arms wrapped around herself, her lower lip caught between her teeth, but he hears the quick gasps of her sobs.

“I really hate this, Ashton.”

“C’mere,” he opens his arms to her and hugs her tightly.

“It’s really hard being lonely.”

She cries into his shirt, finding comfort in his embrace and friendship.

Y/N’s found a good friendship with Max from work. Nothing romantic at all, but he makes sure they do a lot of fun things together. It’s been almost five months since that night with Calum and when Y/N comes across a photo of him and Missy together, Max is there to take her to the beach or a movie to distract her mind.

Now when she sees photos of them it doesn’t make her go in her closet to look at the wilted flowers. It’s still a sting in the thorn of her heart but it’s more bearable. The first single off their new album was ‘Through the Dark’ and it made her cry. Max found her laying on the floor of her room with it playing on a loop, the box of flowers unopened but lying next to her. He laid next to her and held her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She’s meeting up with Max at his place for lunch and she was craving the chicken Caesar sandwich from the bistro on the pier. It wasn’t until she saw her that Y/N remembered this is a favored spot for Calum and Missy to be spotted and there she was. Standing off the side of the counter looking gorgeous in a spring dress.

Y/N tried to keep her head down as she ordered.

“And what’s the name?” the cashier asks.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Y/N? Oh, it is you!” Missy says suddenly next to her.

“Got it this time, thanks. We’ll call you when your food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. She takes a deep breath and turns to Missy. “Hi.” She looks around the shop expecting to see Calum and trying to prepare herself to come face to face with him.

“He’s not here,” Missy says quietly glancing around the shop as well then grabs Y/N’s wrist pulling her to the far end of the sandwich showcase. “He’d actually hate me for even talking about this…and to you but…I’m so sorry. For everything. My manager came up with this PR stunt.”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it’s for publicity,” Y/N tries to get away from this situation as quickly as possible while also keeping herself together. Her neck is warm, and her breathing has accelerated in a slight panic.

Missy grabs her wrist again but pulls her into the women’s bathroom. Y/N’s affronted at the boldness of Missy’s actions.

“It is all publicity, I swear! I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Calum but he’s miserable. We’re friends now and all he talks about is you. How funny you are and kind you are. He really misses you,” Missy continues with a frown.

Y/N sighs. She really does seem nice but she’s still keeping her guard up. How could she not?

“He really cares about you, Y/N.” Missy stresses squeezing Y/N’s hand for emphasis.

“Missy, look. I appreciate you telling me all this. You… you actually seem really nice and genuine which makes it that much harder for me to dislike you.”

“I get that,” Missy nods her head, “but he really, really cares about you.” Her eyes grow bigger each time she said really, and Y/N gives her a confused look.

“Yeah…you um…you said that?”

“No, he…ugh he’s going to hate me, but he loves you. ‘Through the Dark is about you. He told me you’re the girl of his dreams when we met the Monday after his party. I’ve felt horrible all this time.”

Y/N stares at Missy while she processes what she just heard.

“When did he tell you that again?”

“His party was Friday, and we met that Monday to discuss the logistics of this stupid ploy. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for kissing him in front of you! I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone, and I told him I did have a small crush on him but when I saw the way he looked at you it went away. I swear!”

“He really said he loves me?”

“Yes! When we’re not out getting photographed he’s always writing in his notebook and drawing flowers in it. Not that I’ve read anything,” Missy adds in a rush. “It’s just over his shoulder I saw it a couple times before he closed it.”

“Yeah but that was months ago, I’m sure he’s already caught feelings for you.”

“No, he hasn’t. Trust me. He’s become more like a brother to me, honest. I’ve been trying to force him to talk to you and our ‘contract’ is up in a few months anyway for the album release. I want to break if off early publicly so you can finally be together but he’s so stubborn he won’t.”

Y/N laughs lightly at how fast Missy talks. She’s not sure if it’s out of keeping this all to herself for so long or if that’s really how she is, talking a mile a minute.

“Thank you for telling me this, Missy. I…I can’t believe I’m telling you this since we don’t really know each other but I love him, too. I’ve loved him for so long but I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him to do this deal with you because he and I only had one night together,” Y/N explains.

Missy’s eyes widen and she squeals in joy. “You love him too?! Oh, this is great. I’ll arrange for you two to meet up and—”

“Missy, Missy! No, no don’t do that. It’s been too long,” Y/N shrugs. “I doubt he’d want to see me.”

Missy plants her feet on the ground firmly, her face turning very serious very fast. Y/N’s a little taken aback at the fierceness in her gaze.

“Do you want to be with him?” she asks.

“Um..yes.”

“And you love him?”

“Yeah…”

“Then let me help you fix this, please. It’s the least I can do for coming between you when it wasn’t my plan to do so in the first place.”

Y/N takes a deep breath. She’s really starting to like Missy; she has a good heart.

“Okay. How can you help?”

“They’re all planning to go to the Invisible House for a week. I can’t go because I have a shoot to do in New York, but Ashton told me that Calum will be there a couple days before they all arrive.”

Y/N mulls it over, her mind thinking of ways to make it up to him. To apologize. To make him realize how sorry she is and how special he is to her. That despite all the hurdles and messes they’ve been through, that something they have is meaningful.

Then, she gets the perfect idea.

“Do you know when he’s going to be there?” Y/N asks and Missy smiles.

“I know all the details, Y/N.”

The drive to the Invisible House is pretty boring without his radio working so he hums to himself as he drives. Calum’s glad he decided to head there a few days before the rest of the group shows up. The pictures are immaculate and he’s excited to try out the hundred-foot pool.

He texted Missy when he was leaving, and she responded with an encouraging text in return.

‘Have fun! Let me know how everything goes 😉’

He’s confused by the winky face but appreciates it all the same. He’s glad to have her as a friend.

When he arrives at the building it’s dusk, the stars are just dusting the sky and the house is a glowing violet in the desert air. He stares at it for a moment, taking in the beauty of the panes of glass, breathing in the cool desert night. If they were all here a year ago maybe Red Desert would have been Purple Desert.

He shakes his head in disbelief. He’s starting to sound like Luke.

He grabs his belongings, two suitcases and a duffel bag and makes his way to the entrance. Ashton and Michael will be bringing the instruments for a jam session, so he didn’t pack his bass.

Once the door is unlocked, he’s mesmerized by the space before he hears music playing. Was that supposed to be playing? He sets his things by the counter and walks further in. The pool is lit up in a light blue and purple with glowing white lotus flowers floating on the water.

There’s flower petals beneath his feet as he walks the length of the pool. It’s a sweet aroma that fills his nose. Then he panics and thinks Michael has this set up for Crystal. He does not want to walk in on them having a private moment, but that’s hard to do in a glass house.

When he’s at the halfway point of the pool, the soft music becomes a bit louder and he recognizes the drum and guitar chords of Something by The Beatles. His mouth goes dry as he comes to the living area at the end of the pool to where Y/N is standing.

There’s petals on the carpet and she’s holding a white flower in her palm with a flower crown on her head. He’s at a loss for words.

“Hi,” she welcomes quietly.

“Hi…what are you doing here?” he wishes he didn’t ask such a dumb question.

“I should have rehearsed this beforehand what I wanted to say but I had to make sure this was all perfect before you got here. Um, I’m here for you. I know it’s been so long, and this is all my fault in the first place. Pushing you away and I thought I was protecting myself.”

She takes a step forward.

“I’ve been a mess without you, Cal. I miss you, so much it hurts. I think of you all the time, and that night we spent together. Your necklace is still wrapped around the flowers you gave me and that’s what made me think of doing this,” she gestures to her flowers on display all around. She takes another step forward. Closer to the step of the living area, closer to Calum.

“We’ve had our fair share of messes with each other. And it’s my fault for the last one so it’s my responsibility to rectify it. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, how much that night meant to me.”

Another step forward and Calum is reminded of that night in his room. How he came to her, now he’s the one on the receiving end. He watches her with bated breath, and he knows she’s nervous (like he is) by the way she’s playing with the white flower in her hand.

“And the more I thought about the messes we’ve been through it made me think of the Lotus flower. It grows through the mud but when it breaks through, it’s this vibrant and full flower,” she takes two steps and is right at the edge of the step. She holds up the flower.

“And it’s like we’re the flower. We’re growing through the mud and I called it quits before we really bloomed. And…” she takes a shaky breath then laughs nervously, “this sounded romantic in my head but now it sounds super cheesy. But when I heard you were drawing flowers it made me feel like we were still connected.”

She doesn’t say anything more and neither does Calum. Then, when she looks up at him it all makes sense. What they’ve been through these last several months, that was their mud.

“Can you say something?” she whispers, “I’m starting to feel like an idiot and that this was a really stupid idea—”

He lifts her up to his level connecting their lips together. He brings her against him, and she wraps her arms around his neck, their lips getting reacquainted with each other. She tastes like strawberries and smells of flowers and he’s filled with bliss. He feels whole again.

“I love you,” he gasps when they pause to catch their breath. “I should have said it months ago, but I was scared. I thought it was too soon.”

“I love you, too. I’m so sorry for what I said that day. I wish I didn’t—”

He silences her with another kiss.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I understand why you did it, sweetheart,” he cups her cheek and gazes into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“We really are a mess,” she laughs brushing his curls from his face.

“A beautiful mess,” he corrects sucking a kiss from her lips then holds her against him in a tight hug. He never wants to let go.

“Was this too much?” she asks moments later.

“No, it was perfect, thank you for doing all of this for me. I’ll be honest,” he stands up straight to look at her, “I thought I was walking in on Michael and Crystal.”

Y/N laughs and continues laughing until Calum kisses her and she’s left gasping.

“How about we try out the pool?” he mumbles.

They spend a good forty-five minutes in the pool. Soft touches and kisses are exchanged until they reconnect as one. They’re surrounded by the glowing flowers and the ripples they create from their movements. Words of love are spoken and moaned, echoing throughout the space.

They transition to the bed that is also covered in flower petals. Calum kisses down the length of her body, his lips ghosting over her core. Their eyes lock as he attaches his mouth between her folds, his tongue swirling around her bud.

Her legs squeeze around his head on their own accord as she’s vibrating with pleasure. The moans are continuous as he works her over into her second orgasm of the night. When it surpasses, she’s giggling quietly as Calum peppers kisses to her thighs.

“Wow…”

“That good, huh?” he remarks, his lips smacking against her skin bounce off the walls.

“Yeah but…” she rises up on her elbows to look down at him. “Is that all you got? You told me you’d make me cum eight times when we were in your bathroom. Or was that just talk?”

“Oh, you want to be a little sass, huh?” he bites down on the fleshy part of her thigh. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” she smirks.

“Because now I’m going to make you cum ten times.”

“Okay, Cal, I was just jo—OH!” She falls back against the bed as she’s already filled with intense pleasure.

Suffice it to say, Calum did make her cum nine more times. The overstimulation and her noises got him riled up and he had to be close to her again. He made love to her slowly and tenderly. He gave her gentle kisses and she molded to him.

Before she fell asleep he was stroking her face after she drank some water, he really exhausted her.

“How did you know I was going to be here?”

“I ran into Missy at the bistro I love. She explained everything,” she replies sleepily. She’s struggling to keep her eyes open. “I like her, she’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I think she and Max would get along,” she yawns snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll take your word for it. You can go to sleep you know.”

“I want to keep talking to you,” she squeezes his lower back.

“We can talk all day tomorrow. And tomorrow night. And the next day, and the next…”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” she smiles closing her eyes. “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Two days later the rest of the group arrived, and it was a happy albeit awkward reunion because Calum and Y/N were still naked in bed. They spent their time eating, watching movies, and having sex as much as they wanted. It was perfect but also took a lot out of them.

They were both fast asleep until their names were shouted, and Calum scrambled to cover Y/N up.

“I’m glad to see you, Y/N but I’ll hold off on the hug until you aren’t naked with Cal,” Luke laughs.

“We’ll go bring in the rest of the stuff,” Ashton giggles then winks at Y/N.

“Please tell me this was the only place you had sex,” Michael asks peering at them both with narrow eyes.

“Umm…”

“Ugh!” Michael throws his hands in the air. “You guys better not have left messes anywhere!” he complains walking back towards the main kitchen area.

Calum looks over the wall separating their ‘room’ from the rest of the house and turns to her.

“We’re done with messes, yeah?” Calum grins down at her and she nods bringing his face closer to hers.

“Something great came from the mess,” she agrees and slots her lips with his. They’ll have to be super quiet now.

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @haikucal @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @superbloomed-c @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton

#calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum angst #calum hood smut #calum smut #calum 5sos writing #calum writing #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #5soso fic #calum hood fic

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x13)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 13: That One Stranger

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: eep sorry

Word Count: last weekend was a blast!! My cousins, my brother’s best friend, all of us gathered and karaoked while drunk. Bro’s bestie even brought dad in for a song and two and broke a few glasses coz he was THAT drunk. Poor dude even apologised for that.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera was coloured in darkness when it heard a troubled and tired whine. It took a second or two to come out of someone's backpack- quite possibly Javier's- to record you nearly lying over a rhino-like alien with a dinosaur-like tail. Your eyes looked sad and frustrated, your limbs tired- hanging on either side of the slow creature carrying on its own pace. A scarf was thrown over your head that ended up covering your face, making the camera shift towards the tall figure of Loki walking beside the new transportation service. His figure- with the usual black jeans and equally black shirt- was covered in a cloak that protected him from the harsh rays of the neighbouring star. "They're gone. Stop whining," he ordered without even looking at you. "The only breathing insane person you need is me."

Lulu, who was sitting over your back now, was enjoying the languid bumpy ride through the desert that was filled with little crowds around the oasis -found around every two kilometres- while his camera recorded Javier sitting on his rhino facing you guys. You pulled the scarf away from your face and pouted, letting your face rest in your palms. "But they are all so cute." A blink later you turned your eyes towards Loki and smirked. "OoooOoooh!-" you deepened your voice- "'The only breathing insane person you need is me'-" and then squirmed out loud- "you naughty-naughty. You teasing me. You naughty-naughty!" Loki turned to face you, his steps so in sync that he was right next to your face the whole time his eyes kept yours captured. "What exactly is it that made my words tease you, darling?" All the playful giggle vanished as soon as it had come. You felt your body straighten at that smirk running wild over his lips while Javier's camera caught the change in the shade of your face.

You: *annoyed* You have to be really careful how you go about joking around with Loki 'cause that son of a bitch can turn anything into something sexual. *looks at the camera* *feels a shiver go down your body*

Loki: It is *stresses* so easy to make Y/N uncomfortable. All I have to do is make her think I am thinking something impermissible and then sit back to watch her fumble. *chuckles* It's one of my many talents. *feels a confidence boost*

"You are so annoying sometimes," you muttered under your breath while scratching an itch on the back of your neck. "Sometimes I forget you get a high out of making people miserable." "Oh, no. The high is solely out of annoying you," Loki pointed out innocently. Grabbing one end of the scarf, you flipped it in the air to smack Loki's back with it. "You do not deserve any of the lava cakes I make in the future!" "Thank the Norns. They kept giving me the worst pains." "You sonova-" Another flick of your scarf was easily caught by the God to pull you towards him. You nearly fell on his chest if not for your hands landing on those pecs first.

You: *mouth opened in an 'o'* *blinks slowly* I think I grabbed his boobies. *purses lips* *thinks for a long moment* *camera pans in* *raises brows* those are some really hard boobies.

"What." Even when you were sitting on the rhino- who came to a standstill on its own at the moment, clearly sensing some heat in the moment- Loki did not have to bend his beck even a smidge to stare right into your soul. "What," you spat back a bit hesitantly, trying your best to fume, taking your hands away from his body to hide them somewhere before they were executed for their crimes. "You are being quite bold these days," he commented while wrapping the scarf around his hand, never letting his gaze falter. "I was always bold-" you shrugged- "especially when it came to anything that had to do with you." Loki chuckled. And licked his lips. The camera caught the one strong inhale you took in. "What did you expect would happen in the long run? That I would go all soft and mushy on you like those fangirls you have on earth? Stand outside your home and shout-" "Loki?" The voice wasn't yours. You could never carry that kind of sultry weight in your throat even if you wanted to. It felt like it had come with the wind. Or maybe an echo? It wasn't until you looked at Javier's camera that you looked behind you and found a woman dressed in red standing within inches of you, giving you a mini heart attack, leading to one great fall. Loki could have broken your fall if he wanted to but from the look in his eyes, he was stuck on the woman he was seeing standing a few feet away from him. Lulu's camera caught this woman perfectly. From every angle, she looked human. Her pale skin was akin to a glass moulded in the shape of a Goddess. Her thin lips were coloured a shade of purple. Her eyes a shade of blue that was darker than usual. They were less of an ocean and more of a pool hidden in the caverns that were bottomless and unexplorable. A red cloak covered her head- except for a few strands of silver hair- and the rest of her body. It was not hard to miss for the cameras recording a couple of things that happened in a little span of time; like the slipping of your scarf from Loki's hands, the rhinos excusing themselves from the scene, the nervous fluffing up of Lulu at the sight of this stranger, the sudden chill in the air in the middle of the desert making the animals- and you- shiver. On top of that, the piercing rays of the nearest star seemed to get dull by the second till the camera realised there were clouds gathering above them out of bloody nowhere.

"Is that really you? Loki...son of Odin...and son of Laufey?" "It's Freya," you whispered, internally correcting this stranger who was visibly making you quite uncomfortable. "It has been a while." She completely ignored you if she heard that. Her smile seemed to stretch from one ear to another at the sight of the God- who was evidently the only thing she wanted to see. "Aellae." It was not the name itself that produced the moment but the way it came out to make you turn towards Loki.

You: *frown at the void* It was almost like he was recalling something he had...lost. Like that one book that you repeatedly read and then it just disappeared one day only for you to find out that you had yourself kept it in an ultimate secret place that you yourself forgot about. So, when you find it you feel guilty for facing it again. *breathless* *camera pans in* *looks at Javier* does this make sense? *blinks at Javier who is signing something* *frowns harder* What do you mean why it's gotten me all worked up? I mean *stutters and points in the distance* *camera pans in Loki and Aellae standing in the distance looking at each other and not really talking much* W-who knows what's the history there. Like is she a friend or foe? Or a fr-o. *camera pans back on your face* *tsks* of course, this doesn't make sense. None of this does. *looks at the pair and crosses her arms* *fumes at no one in particular*

"I thought I-" "Lost me?" Aellae simply smiled. "You should know better than that. After all, it is me, my love." There was no hesitation in the movement of your eyes when you looked at Loki for an answer to that statement. If it wasn't for the brilliant observation of this talented boy named Javier, one would not have caught the slight movement of his eyes when he wanted to glance at you from his peripheral vision while taking in a lungful. "My love," you stressed that last word to make sure Loki understood the question scratching beneath the sarcasm. There was a slight roll of his eyes followed by him completely closing them for one elongated moment. "I have been waiting for this day," Aellae continued, making a part of you itch for completely ignoring your presence, "when I finally found you again." The tilt of her head and that hollow gaze that tried to be soft gave her an eerie touch. "And to think I was only living on your memories till now." Aellae took a step forward and stopped when she found the God taking the lead with this one. In this situation, the angle mattered a lot. Because from where Lulu stood- right on your shoulder- it looked as if this stranger had taken a step where could she step right where the distance between her and you two was the same. From where Javier stood, his camera saw Loki step towards Aellae while completely blocking you from the boy's view. But what he did record was Loki bringing forward his hands for her. That hollowness in her eyes suddenly swirled into an ounce of mild ecstasy. when she put her hands in his and felt his thumbs rest on top of the back of her palms. "It has been one long while," he concluded, forcing Javier to walk- with quite the struggle- in the sand to pan in on this confusion fused with this piercing hint of disappointment on your face.

"I'm sorry," you sputtered, "come again?" "Title of your sex tape," he muttered under his breath. "Hm?" Aellae turned in question. "Nothing, my dearest," the God assured her before turning to answer your question. "I said you are on your own now. Look for a cavern at one of the oasis and they will drop you at a shelter. Hopefully." Your head did feel the just of surprise even though the last twenty seconds of their hand-holding had you all ready for a surprise. Words were being a stubborn bitch in your lungs- never escaping your mouth right this moment and all your could do was exhale and mock a burst of laughter at those words. "And then? And then what?" Your heated brain really could not think of anything else. Loki shrugged.

You: *shouting* THAT SON OF A BITCH SHRUGGED!!! *pointing at yourself* AT ME!!!

"I don't know. Look for a rainbow." Without another word, he turned back towards the woman. Just like that. The only sound was that of the wind running through the desert as you, Javier and Lulu watched Loki walk away with this strange creature. It took a minute for the little one figure out, for when he did, he pressed his stomach and stood up on your shoulder, his heart beating faster than it usually did. And when the realisation dawned on him, Lulu jumped to the ground to take a few steps in Loki's direction and yell for him to come back.

'Member the way You used to say I was your meaning? You'd always need me

You just stood there, dried lips parted, eyes shrinking under the gaze of the star, arms dangling with nearly no life in them. For a second there, Javier felt you were about to fall, for Lulu's camera caught the boy come to your side, ready for anything that was bound to happen.

Did you forget What that shit meant? You were my answer You were what mattered

But all you did was stand there with disappearing emotions just like those two disappeared with the last sand dune in front of you. With the last silhouette of Loki gone in sand, you closed your eyes, worrying your companions for that stretched moment.

Lived at your place Know the way that I taste Yeah, you know things Yeah, you know things

"He knows," you whispered to yourself, your brows furrowing together, your fingers curling into fists.

I met your mom Even got us a dog That ain't nothing, oh

A piercing scream came out of your lungs making the little floof jump five feet into the air to land away from you while Javier's camera recorded his three-second jolts before falling straight down from his hands.

Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me, know Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me

"HE FUCKING KNOWS!!!!" Your voice was at the edge of a massive breakdown, shaking while your eyes blurred themselves in this uncontrollable rage.

You always will

"That son of a bitch knows how bad it is for me alone in a strange land," you croaked, trying to kick some sand with your boots. Javier signed something from outside the frame to you. "Hey, you're not alone. I'm here too," Lulu's camera caught his words. You looked at him for five seconds. "You lost your socks while sleeping on your first day. You were wearing those bloody socks." Javier- clearly offended but also guilty- mocked a gasp as he took a few steps away from you. The soft strings of guitar added to the air around you looking in the distance where nothing could be seen now. No one. Sand for infinity and a few oases that did not lead to him.

Feet were dragged through the stubborn sand that let won't you walk straight. All the effort that was going into being angry was now running down towards your legs. But that did not stop you from fuming so hard that the camera could catch the difference in your features.

See, I know What it is, what it is, what it is, babe

But as the camera panned over your face, it seemed more of a sullen sulk and less of that rage you had just shown.

See, I know What it is, what it is

And were those tears in your eyes that you were trying to blink away? That you were trying to hide from Javier as much as possible?

Let me miss What it is, what it is, what it isn't Let me miss it Let me miss it

Giving up, you walked towards the first oasis in your way, populated generously by desert animals and a few nomads. The tents seemed somewhat similar to those you found on earth except for the spherical air pockets surrounding them to keep them cool. One of the nomads was kind enough to open the doorway for you and bow down in their own way, making the rainbow stone in his necklace reflect the starlight right into your eyes as you entered the place. "Did some order a seven-spice rainbow with a generous dash of sexy on the side?" The light that has just left your eyes came back with a sweet gasp. "My White Knight!" you nearly choked on your own joy. .

The camera felt itself shake when the rainbow drink was kept on the table. Thanking White, you dragged the sparkly fizzy thing towards you to get a taste. "So-" White furrowed his brows licked his lips in a thought- "you're saying Loki did leave you but he did not leave you." You just nodded, your lips not ready to leave the straw. "Easy," White ordered with a serious face, receiving a pinch from Green and Orange sitting next to him without looking away from you. Both of them seemed to be caught in a sweet trance that was clearly you. And when you finally did leave the straw, the elated sigh of a content throat made both of them close their eyes and smile. "Oh, God! This is so goooood," you exclaimed as no voice came out of you. "Y/N," your White Knight called out to you, "focus." You set the drink down and straighten yourself. "Yes, sir," you whispered. "Not that much of focus," he muttered while clearing his throat, adjusting himself where he sat. Violet rolled his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean when you say he did not leave you?" You looked at Violet and put your hands on the table. "I mean that I don't think he went with that woman....goddess...witch...whatever...on his own. I think he was kinda kidnapped." All the boys- except Orange- shared a look with each other. Orange was just too engrossed in you at this point. "Are you sure he just didn't go on his own?" Green stressed. "He would be one dumb bitch to leave me alone like that," you nearly shouted before going for that unicorn juice again. "There must've been a reason." Orange nodded vigorously in agreement. "Very dumb bitch," he tsked. "Because he knows I will kill him if he did-" you sipped the cold fizz- "and if I didn't, our family definitely will." The camera panned in the emotion of slight disbelief White felt as his eyes remained hollow while that smile was still stuck on his face. It took him a few seconds to bring himself to mutter, "our...family," and scratch an itch on his neck. "So," you burped and excused yourself, "before anyone from my home flies here just to kill him, I am going to rescue him." "Whaaa-at?" Sky mutters from behind the bar counter. "Help you go after some strange and powerful witch that we have absolutely no idea about?" Javier's camera- which Javier had in his hand as he stood right behind Sky- recorded the endless stash of weapons and potions kept behind the bar right there within Sky's reach. The camera especially zoomed in on the one bundle of spears marked 'Witch skewers: Do not wash, Do not touch. Poisonous'. "And that too on such a short notice?" Sky faked a laugh.

Sky: *tired* Of course we know Loki's been kidnapped. White: *casually* Of course, we'll help Y/N. Violet: *stone face* I'm down to hunt some bad girls any day. White: *sighs* I really wish we could leave him with his kidnapper though. *pause* *everyone mumbles in agreement* *silence resumes around the table* Orange: *thinking while looking at the void* but that would make Y/N sad. *nods and pouts around the table* Red: Once we rescue him, let's kidnap Y/N. *hums of agreement around the table*

"Okay-" you place the empty glass on the table and get up to look around the table before looking into Javier's camera, "let's go save a God today."

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki series #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fluff #loki #It's The Avengers #fluff #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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lightdancer1 · 2 years

Text

I will note to make things clear in my own stories (as much for myself as anything else)

I write Agni as wearing lamellar golden armor as a kind of cosmic archetype of a cosmic generic East Asian soldier, as a mirror of the Fire Nation in the AUs where there's no direct indication that the plotline of the Fire and Water verse spills over into others. Where she glows with unlight and her armor takes on a dark green hue she's straight up the Azar of Azarath/God on the Gilded Throne, and this is a sign of very bad things following for that entire world.

Agni wearing armor is also a nod to the depictions of Huitzilopotchli in Aztec/Nahua lore and imagery, showcasing that the deity changes in some aspects of perception (replacing the cotton armor of the Sun Warriors with the metal lammellar of the Fire Nation) but not in a lot of other ways as the self-perception of the Goddess is independent of her followers. Which is in line with how I write my takes on deities and religions.

Other than the Christian God (which is a case of Wishmastering the concept of prayer to a point that saying "God damn it" is still a prayer and thus counts as boosting the power of said deity) no deity in my works relies on the power of prayer to exist, and even the Trinity technically doesn't. They just cheated to use it as a power boost, the entity would exist whether or not the religion did.

Gods and Goddesses exist independent of the religions that worship them, may be entirely unpleasant entities (Agni in the Fire Nation style certainly is, and that I have her as female is specifically a reference to the Japanese Amaterasu) but it's seldom a match 1:1 or even 70:30 to what the religion says about them.

Most of the deities in my ATLA verses exist for a simple reason. They provide the one thing that the setting, absent the Avatar, lacks. Spirits that are friendly to humans. Deities might be and are unpleasant at best (like most polytheistic deities in real life lores/mythologies) but they are still friendly to humans. The likes of Wan Shi Tong and company, OTOH, have views little better than those of Vaatu and his 'kill all humans' approach.

#worldbuilding #atla aus #deities and pantheons in the avatar-verse #agni

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years

Text

Met Gala || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter go on a mission to capture Harry Osborn at one of the most heavily guarded places; the Met Gala.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s note: I watched Ocean’s 8 and Hoco back to back and thus, this fic was born.

Warning: Fighting?? Creepy dude??? IDK man a busted lip?

-----

When you were recruited for SHIELD, you knew you would be needed to fight alongside the avengers or workaround in the advanced lab in the Helicarier but never in a million years did you think Fury would send you and Peter Parker on a mission to infiltrate the Met Gala. Celebrities you stalked all day on twitter were now inches from you, wearing gorgeous ensembles from famous designers you could never pronounce and you were hardcore fangirling.

You tried to keep in your excitement as you looked across the room, seeing your favorite actors and influencers all mingling together without a care in the world. You were breathing the same air as Beyonce and Harry Styles, dear god, life felt great. Little did they know, this event had been hijacked by New York’s charming new villain, Harry Osbourn. Your mission with Peter was simple; find Harry and take him back to SHIELD’s headquarters for questioning without causing a mass distraction.

As you reached for a crystalized champagne glass off of one of the server’s silver platter, you hear a tsk sound off in your hidden earpiece inside your earrings.

“ Drinking on the job,” Peter clicked his tongue as he looked behind his shoulder, scouting you from across the ballroom,” your mother would be so disappointed.”

You smiled and took a small sip, taking in the room,” I’m blending in Parker. You should do the same. As for my mom, I’m in the same room as Idris Elba so I think she’ll be more jealous than upset.”

You took a quick glance towards Peter, who was sitting at a vacant table. He wore a black suit with a thin gold and blush material lined thinly along either side of the opening of his suit jacket. The inside of the suit was a simple white button-up that had no buttons at the top, revealing a bit of his chest.

While it was the Met Gala and you were excited to see what kind of flashy SHIELD had managed to get, they went the opposite. They gave you a black, long sleeve gown with a delicate lace pattern towards the bottom of your dress. Even though it was already out of your comfort zone from how fitting it was, the dress had a deep V cut on your chest that gave little to the imagination. While the dress was flattering, you knew you could’ve settled for your old prom dress when you heard that the gown you were wearing was two times the price of your apartment.

“ My little Peter Parker looks like he’s going to a Las Vegas communion,” you teased as you gave him a distant longing look,” but you look nice. You should wear suits more often, maybe then you could get a girlfriend.”

“ Ouch, Y/N,” Peter laughed, even though his heart stung a bit,” just because you look like that doesn’t mean you can go around breaking my heart.”

Even though Peter couldn’t see you from where you were, you still felt your cheeks to see if it was noticeable that you were blushing hard. Ever since sophomore year in high school, you had always hopelessly flirted with Peter but his attention was always Spiderman this and Spiderman that. It wasn’t until your senior year that you both would flirt with each other shamelessly yet that made things even harder for you. Now you weren’t sure if he was just joking or actually flirting with you and you could only blame yourself.

“ Keep your eyes open for Harry, not me,” You said as you finished your champagne glass and set it down at a table,” but I like the attention so you may continue flirting with me after we’re done with our mission.”

You heard Peter gasp loudly followed by silence which made your heart stop.

“ Peter? Peter do you have eyes on Harry?”

“ No! I think Blake Lively is about to come up and talk to me, bye!”

You craned your neck and sure enough, you picked Peter out of the crowd and saw the goddess herself sitting next to him smiling. Lucky bastard. You kept your eyes glued to Peter as you collided with someone.

“ Woah watch yourself there,” You heard as you felt your anxiety raise through the roof. Please don’t let it be Pedro Pascal, please. I would die from embarrassment if I just bumped into the Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal, himself.

You apologized but when you hesitantly looked up, hoping it wasn’t a famous celebrity you had obsessed over, your heart dropped. Harry Osborn.

“I’m sorry but do I know you?” Harry asked as you thought quickly of what to do,” I swear you look familiar.”

You weren’t prepared to see him so soon, your plan of attack was to find him not for him to find you. You snapped yourself out of it and focused on what you knew best, flirting.

“ No, you don’t. Trust me, you would remember a face like mine,” you said smoothly, feeling your confidence boost from the energy of the night and most likely the dress.

Harry smirked,” I like you already. I’m Harry, Harry Osborn.”

Oh you knew. You knew everything about him from the countless files that SHIELD had provided you. His estranged father was Norman Osborn and is the president of Oscorp, one of the leading multinational corporations in the US. Harry was around the same height as Peter, standing at 5' 10, weighing 170 pounds, and had dark blue eyes that held more than just a charming sparkle. You knew how he liked his coffee, why he hated Halloween, where he vacationed when he was in grade school, and when he lost his virginity. Knowing how much intel SHIELD had on Harry was not only scary for him, but for you since who knows about dirt Fury had one you aswell.

“ Michelle Jones,” you said on the spot, not wanting him to know your real name. He reached for you hand to shake but instead, placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

You smiled politely even though you mentally rolled your eyes. You just needed to get him somewhere private so you could take him out with the tranquilizer that Peter had in his pocket.

“ So Harry, what brings you to the Met? You must be pretty influential to get an invite,” you said as you started walking away from your spot, knowing that there was an exit behind the staircase and that Harry would follow you.

“ I would call myself an entrepreneur, I dabble in some tech companies here and there. Just changing the world one robot at a time,” Harry shrugged as he followed next to you, taking the bait,” I bet you’re probably into something along the lines of modeling.”

You couldn’t help yourself but to let out a lousy laugh as he held a set of double doors open for you, leaving an empty hallway,” That’s cute but no, I’m one of the leading programmers at Stark Industries. But sure, I guess I’m just a pretty face too.”

“ Brains, beauty, and an attitude? Well today’s my lucky day then,” he flirted as he placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in close to your ear,” let’s get out of here yeah?”

You almost showed your visibly disgusted expression on your face but you hide it well underneath a sweet smile,“ I admire your boldness and while I am very flattered, I have a boyfriend. I think he would actually love to meet you, let me just go find him.”

“ Y/N, there you are,” Peter’s voice piped behind you as you watched his face fall for a second and then recover,” who’s your friend?”

Your smile faltered,“ R-Right, this is Harry Osborn, Harry, this is my boyfriend...Ned.”

Peter shook Harry’s hand as Peter tried to hide a grin from the fake name,” Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and looked between you two as Peter placed his arm around your hip, bringing you closer,” Well Ned, you’re a lucky man. She’s very smart and might I say very beautiful.”

Peter clenched his jaw as Harry looked you up and down longingly as if he could see straight through your gown. You felt Peter’s grip on your waist tighten but he knew that he had to stay calm so he didn’t compromise the mission.

“ Yes, Y/N is the whole package,” Peter said a bit more confidently as he gave you a small kiss on the cheek,” aren’t you baby?”

Before you could open your mouth, Harry interrupted and took a step forward,” That’s funny, she told me her name was Michelle.”

Peter looked back at your face and while you were now panicking on the inside, you only nodded in response,” Michelle Y/N Jones. Only my close friends call me Y/N.”

“ Really? You know, now that I’m really thinking about it,” Harry looked between you two and pointed at Peter,” you look like a...Peter Parker. And you, Look like a Y/N L/N. Which is funny because I know two people who work for SHIELD who are allegedly after me. Funny huh?”

Your breath hitched and without thinking, Peter lunged at Harry and the two wrestled to the floor. You watched as the two struggled on top of one another before Harry got the upper hand, giving him a few good punches before he started to choke him.

You looked at the cart next to you and grabbed a bottle of Champagne before slamming it over Harry’s head. In an instant, Harry slumped over on top of Peter who breathed a sigh of relief.

“ D-Did I kill him?” You asked as you dropped whatever was still intact of the bottle.

Peter shook his head, taking in your appearance. While you didn’t have any physical marks on you, your hair that was neatly tucked into a bun was now loose and all over the place.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Peter asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his lip was definitely busted,”Y/N I am so sorry about blowing your cover and I’m sorry that you-”

You leaned over towards Peter and planted a light kiss to his cheek, which made him instantly turn red. You didn’t know what came over you but the damage was done, now you just had to get out of here.

“ Less talking and more lifting,” you said softly as you both looked down at Harry who was very much unconscious,” The car is waiting downstairs for us so I’ll grab his legs and you grab his arms?”

“ I can carry him myself,” Peter said and you knew he could because of his ‘super strength’ but you shook your head and insisted over a hundred times that you were a strong, capable woman.

Peter took one last longing look at you since his face couldn’t get any redder and nodded as the two of you both lifted Harry down the private staircase. The two of you said nothing, only sharing an occasional groan as you used most of your strength.

“ So what, are we dating now?” Peter asked as he accidentally bumped Henry’s head against the railing.

You huffed and stepped carefully, not wanting to trip over your dress,” I know I drank like three glasses of champagne but I would definitely remember if I asked you out, Parker.”

“ Well you introduced me to Harry as your boyfriend.”

You stopped moving and placed Harry down on the stairs, your muscles that you hardly ever worked on were already aching. You placed your hands on your hips and shook your head,” Okay well, I technically said you were Ned so that means Ned is my boyfriend.”

You swallowed and looked up at Peter,” But if this is your attempt at trying to ask me out then yes, I will go out with you...only if you carry Harry the rest of the way.”

Peter hid his huge grin and only shrugged plainly, even though he wanted to jump out of excitement,” Fine by me.”

You watched as Peter lifted Harry with ease as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

“Show off,” you said as Peter smirked, knowing that he could get used to this.

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ghostgothgeek · 3 years

Text

Blush. Chapter 7

Hello! Finally another update!

Rated M for language and actual sex ed talk.

FFN || AO3

---

“Hey guys,” Sam smiled warmly at her two friends as she shut her locker. “How’s it going on your end?”

Danny didn’t look directly at her, but muttered a “hey”.

Tucker snickered next to him. “Oh, I think Danny is having the time of his life!” Danny elbowed him in the ribs, “Ow! Hey, I even used a life or death pun for you!”

“That bad, huh?” Sam laughed. “Can’t say I’m doing any better though. By the way, Danny, I’m going to have to...warn you about a few things. Your secret is still safe, but there’s still going to be gossip about you. Both of your halves.” Sam shut her brain down before she went back to that fantasy. “Sorry, I really tried. The girls at this school are indubitably so fucking stupid, they wouldn’t know what the actual truth is, even if it bit them on the nose. Honestly, how they even made it to twelfth grade is beyond me.”

Tucker noticed Sam getting all worked up and frowned. “Hey, the day’s almost over though!”

“Huh? Wait, what do you mean gossip?” Danny finally looked up at her.

“Ugh, Paulina has some twisted thoughts.” Sam rubbed the sides of her head as she tried to calm down. “She’s been the biggest pain in the ass all day. Just be prepared for any gossip that Phantom flies commando, and know that I tried to stop it.”

Danny’s eyes went wide, “why would they-?”

Tucker busted out laughing, “You HAVE to tell me how that happened!”

“Ugh guys, please not now.” She grabbed each of their shirts and pulled them towards the cafeteria.

“Man, I wish I had my PDA! I hate being out of the loop!” Tucker complained.

Sam unpeeled her banana, trying to ignore any innuendos and return to normalcy, as she listened to Tucker’s bellyaching. She took a large bite as her stomach growled. If Skulker hadn’t shown up on the way to school, she probably would have been able to actually grab some breakfast before this whole ordeal. Sure, she had a salad waiting for her, but that wasn’t going to cut it today.

“Damn, look at Manson deep throating that banana like a pro!” Dash quirked. Danny snapped his head to look over at Sam. Oh god. Woah...wait NO!

Without missing a beat, Sam chucked her half eaten banana at Dash, hitting him directly in the face. She smiled proudly as Tucker chuckled next to her.

“Nice shot, Sam!” Tucker held his hand out for a high five, which Sam returned. Dash made an attempt to take a jab at her, but Kwan stopped him. Kwan had to protect both of his “best friends”, after all.

Danny was silent, unable to comprehend his enjoyment of Dash’s misery at Sam’s behalf. That’s my girl, he had thought. Ugh, why? Why did he keep coming back to this? Sam is just a friend. Dash’s dumbass comment just stirred the pot even more. Now Danny had a new fantasy about his best friend to worry about. He looked over at Sam again and blushed before quickly looking away. With the amount of times he’s blushed today, he didn’t think it was possible anymore. And what is she talking about with all these rumors?

Tucker nudged Danny with his elbow and raised an eyebrow at him as Sam caught up with Valerie and raced for the salad bar. “You okay? I thought you’d always dreamt of Sam hitting Dash in the face.” Tucker laughed to himself. “I know I certainly have.”

“Not the only dream of Sam I have…” Danny muttered to himself.

“What?” Tucker looked at his friend again.

“What?” Danny looked back at him confused, grabbing a tray after Tucker.

“What was that now?” Tucker smirked as he grabbed two burgers. Terrific, Tucker had heard him after all.

“Nothing,” Danny said sternly before grabbing some mac n cheese.

“Uh huh.” Tucker’s smirk grew as he piled more food onto his plate.

“It’s nothing!” Danny insisted as he grabbed the rest of his food and followed Tucker to their table.

“Alright, alright. Calm down dude.” Tucker sat down and immediately took a bite of one of his burgers.

“Sorry,” Danny sighed. “Between dumbass number one and dumbass number two over there,” he pointed towards Elliot and Dash, “I’m not thinking straight.”

Tucker nodded and swallowed as Danny took a sip of his drink. Tucker looked over at Sam, pursed his lips, then paused for a moment before saying, “you know, Sam is actually pretty hot, now that I think about it.”

Danny spit his drink out across the table and started coughing. “What?!”

“Oh relax, I’m not gonna steal your girlfriend or anything,” Tucker rolled his eyes as Danny muttered some “she’s not my girlfriend” line. “I’m just saying. I mean, she’s super cool and fun to hang with, she looked great at the freshman dance, and she already has made mini skirt Friday an everyday kind of deal! Like if she just lost the tights or whatever, holy smokes. And like, dude, she has boobs. BOOBS. We’ve been so close this entire time!”

Danny caught his breath and scoffed at Tucker before realizing he kind of had a point. If Danny had learned anything that day, it was that he definitely had conflicting feelings about Sam. It wouldn’t surprise him if other guys started noticing her more as well. Actually, they had, if you counted dumbass number one and dumbass number two.

Danny forced out a small laugh, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, I kinda…” He trailed off before getting a nod of encouragement from Tucker, silently letting it be known that this conversation was strictly between them and would most likely never be repeated again. “I mean, she’s Sam and she’s so pretty and smart and cool and she hangs out with us, like what the hell? And I ran into her in the hallway earlier after dealing with Johnny 13, and I was bleeding and stuff and her boobs were like, right there in my face while she was trying to help me and with all this dumb sex talk, I had to run to the bathroom before anything happened or became noticeable. I’ve been embarrassed more than enough for one day.”

Tucker let out a loud laugh and slapped Danny on the back. “Damn, dude. I didn’t think you’d ever admit anything.” Danny’s hand immediately went to rub the back of his neck and his face turned crimson for the millionth time that day. “So you ran into Sam, huh?” Tucker wagged his eyebrows suggestively and laughed again when Danny threw a fry at his face. “Don’t worry, dude. I still respect the bro code. I won’t say a word. But like, excusing the fact that she’s like a sister to me for a second, what were they like?”

Danny opened his mouth as he thought of something to say, before jerking forward after Dash slapped him on the back (hard) and took a seat next to him. “You’re talking about Manson, right? She is pretty hot. You’re a lucky man, Fenton.”

Was Dash actually...being nice to him? Because he thought that he and Sam were actually...doing things together. What the fuck was happening today?

“What’s she like? Really?” Dash stole one of Danny’s fries.

“She’s definitely feisty, that’s for sure.” Elliot smirked as he sat across from Danny. This asshole again?!

Danny made tight fists under the table. “Shut the fuck up and leave Sam alone! You guys dated for like a week! That’s nothing!”

“It was enough to cover all of the bases, if you know what I mean. And I’m pretty sure you know what I mean.” Elliot smirked while holding up his phone with the picture on it and leaned back in the chair, nearly falling over as Danny stood quickly from the table, shaking it in the process. He was ready to pounce.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Danny growled as he got all up in Elliot’s face. Elliot accepted the challenge.

“No, I don’t think I will. But what I do think will happen is me and Sam again.”

Dash raised an eyebrow at the two boys arguing, “What’s with this? Is Manson like, secretly a sex goddess or something? Maybe I’ll hop on that too.”

Danny’s eyes flashed green for a brief second before almost being knocked over by Tucker, who shoved him out of the way.

“You have a phone?! How did you sneak that in? Can I please have it for five minutes? Please?!” Tucker made a grab for the phone as Elliot held it behind him.

“Depends. What kind of dirt do you have on Danny and Sam?”

“Oh man, where do I start?”

“TUCKER!” Danny glared at his friend, not believing he was actually considering this.

“Oh man, this I gotta hear.” Dash leaned in for a better listen.

“Okay, one timeback in middle school, Danny-” Tucker’s sentence was muffled as Danny slapped his hand over Tucker’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up!” Danny hissed.

“Oh no, please go on,” Elliot smirked as he waved his phone in the air, “You may just buy yourself 2 minutes.” He tried removing Danny’s hand from Tucker’s mouth.

“Get lost, Elliot.” Danny stood from the table and stared him down again. “Tucker isn’t that desperate.”

“Eh, I think he is,” Dash chimed in. “Foley looks like he’s about to shit a brick.” All three boys looked at Dash, just now remembering he was there.

Across the cafeteria, Sam raised an eyebrow at the crowd around their usual table and looked back at Valerie. “Thanks again for having my back in there. I really owe you one.”

“Nonsense. If anything, take it as repayment for how much you guys have saved my ass from ghosts. And for me trying to kill your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but thanks.” Sam grabbed a tomato from her salad bowl and popped it in her mouth. “Hey Val, do you want to sit with us?”

Valerie grinned, “Love to, thanks. And he’s not your boyfriend yet. I’ll help get you there.”

Sam laughed. “Okay, sure. We really should hang out more, you know. I need a boost of estrogen every once in a while.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Valerie stopped in place for a moment, staring at the guys at their table. Sam followed where Valerie was looking and ran closer to her friends.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Sam yelled as they approached the group of guys who were trying to tackle each other across the table. Danny and Elliot were staring each other down as Elliot held his phone as far back behind him as he could while Tucker, half on top of the table, reached for it. Dash was actually the most civil at the table. They all paused and fell silent as she spoke up. All four of them were staring at her with a weird expression on their faces. “What?” She questioned cautiously, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious. Valerie snickered to herself, taking a wild guess as to what (or who) the boys had been arguing about.

“Uh, nothing.” Danny forced Tucker back into his chair and sat back down next to him. “They were just leaving.” He glared at Elliot.

When the faux goth and the jock refused to move, Sam slammed her tray down on the table. “Get the fuck out of here before I start kicking people. I have my good boots on today.”

Elliot was the first to make a move to leave. “Told ya, feisty.”

Dash stood as well as he looked Sam up and down. Actually not that bad. Fortunately, Sam missed that, but Danny hadn’t. He was practically seeing red as Dash returned to his own table.

“We’ll talk after lunch!” Tucker whispered to Elliot as he passed by on the way back to the other end of the cafeteria.

“What was that all about?” Sam sat down and stabbed her salad with her fork before taking a bite.

“Elliot and Dash are being shitheads and pushing all of Danny’s buttons today,” Tucker announced as he started his second burger.

“Do I wanna know?”

“No.” Danny picked at his food, shutting down that conversation.

Valerie sat down next to Sam and across from Tucker. Noticing his fidgeting, she smirked, “Must be a tough day for you, huh? No technology of any sort?”

Tucker groaned, “It’s killing me! It may actually kill me!”

“Stop being so dramatic, it’s only been a few hours and we’re almost done,” Sam pointed her fork towards Tucker, “You wouldn’t believe all the shit I’ve had to go through today.”

Danny looked up at her, “What happened? Are you okay? Did anyone say anything to you?” He glanced over towards the A Listers’ table, where everyone was passing around Elliot’s stupid phone and making crude noises and gestures towards Danny when they noticed him staring. He flushed again.

“Chill, I’m fine. I’m just apparently the school’s gossip victim for the day.”

“Yeah, Paulina has been pretty ruthless today,” Valerie pointed out as she started her lunch.

“Fuck!” Sam groaned, which gave a certain part of Danny’s anatomy some life again. “I got salad dressing all over my leggings.” She started unlacing her boots.

“W-what are you doing?” Danny squeaked.

“Taking them off. I don’t want to smell like vinaigrette for the rest of the day,” she started peeling off her leggings and with a brief hand from Valerie, she crumbled them into a ball and tossed them into her backpack before she started lacing up her boots again, careful not to lift her legs too high for anyone to accidentally see anything.

Tucker’s eyes widened slightly, as if his conversation with Danny earlier had somehow summoned this to occur. He looked at Danny and raised an eyebrow as if proving his point.

“Don’t even think about it,” Danny warned lowly.

Valerie hid her smirk behind her hand as Danny gripped the table. Danny and Sam were both smitten with each other and both so, so oblivious to the other person’s feelings.

“Anyway, uh...yeah, you’re probably going to hear some gossip, just please know it’s not my fault.” Sam sighed and took another bite of her salad. “Honestly, how I have gone almost 4 years without seriously injuring Paulina is beyond me.”

“I’ll admit, I’m a little shocked too. But you definitely wanted to deck her after she said you were cheating on Fenton with Phantom,” Valerie chuckled as Sam whipped her head towards her and sent her a menacing glare. Valerie just shrugged, knowing damn well what she was doing. Danny and Sam just needed a little nudge, and she was gonna give it to them.

“Oh my god, WHAT?!” Tucker burst out laughing, some of his soda coming out of his nose in the process. Gross.

Danny’s head snapped up as a light pink blush dusted his cheeks. “Uh, w-what? Paulina thinks...you and I...and you and Phantom?”

Sam groaned as she set her empty tupperware container back into her backpack. “Yes, Princess Shit-For-Brains thinks I’m intimate with both sides of you.”

“At the same time?” Danny asked.

“Oh I don’t need to hear this!” Tucker covered his ears.

Sam kept her head down, hair covering her face, as she blushed a deep dark red. “I tried to stop it, I swear.”

“Suuuureeee you did. I bet you hated that implication,” Tucker smirked.

Sam managed to whack him in the back of the head from across the table, nearly giving Danny another pleasantly unfortunate view once again.

“Hey! When I said I wished girls would hit on me, this is not what I meant!” Tucker rubbed the back of his head and readjusted his beret.

Sam smirked. “Be careful what you wish for. Desiree can pop up at any moment.” Tucker’s eyes widened.

“Desiree?” Valerie whispered.

“Genie ghost. Gotta be super careful around her,” Sam replied. Valerie nodded.

“I...uh, okay...well, thanks? For...trying to stop it?” Danny said uncertainly. He had noticed in the past that when he was Phantom, his emotions definitely were stronger and he had always felt more overprotective of Sam. As Phantom, he almost seemed to have less control over his emotions.

“No problem,” Sam muttered quietly.

“Okay, but can you please explain the “Phantom goes commando” thing?” Tucker leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

Danny hiccuped, and to his relief, it was his ghost sense. Oh thank god. He stood up, receiving a few looks from the other tables.

“I gotta run, I need to...basically die of embarrassment elsewhere,” Danny said slowly. Nobody seemed to think much of the phrasing. Though Tucker and Sam both immediately caught on.

“I’ll come help you not die,” Sam replied. Anything to get out of this situation. She elbowed Tucker before standing as well. “Come on, we need to help Danny not die.” Tucker waved her off, as Valerie finally understood what was happening.

“You two lovebirds go on ahead,” he told them, “they’ve got this,” he whispered to Valerie. Danny narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don’t go around telling a bunch of our secrets,” Danny spoke with an underlying threatening tone. Tucker nodded.

“Of course. But you are losing your fries,” he informed him, and the teen helped himself to the remaining fries on Danny’s plate. Danny accepted this, and he motioned for Sam to follow him. “Also…” Tucker threw a condom at Danny. Danny shot him a look and let the condom bounce off of his chest and land on the floor. Sam hastily grabbed her backpack, and they both fast-walked out of the cafeteria, earning several stares and eyebrow wags.

Danny groaned, “Ugh, fuck me!” He was sick of this.

“Damn, well now we know who initiates it. Never pictured Fenton to be the dominant one,” Dash laughed. Danny growled and began to turn around before Sam pushed him forward and out of the cafeteria.

“Not now. We probably have Kitty and I assume Johnny to worry about right now.” Once out of the cafeteria, Sam pulled out her wrist ray and put it on. She searched for her pocket knife in her boot, pulling out the Ecto Lipstick Laser by accident. “Ahh!” She dropped it as if it had been on fire and watched it roll down the hallway. Danny raised an eyebrow at her. “Nothing!” She quickly replied as she ran forward to grab the weapon and put it back in her boot. “It’s just the Ecto Lipstick! I swear!” She said a little too loudly. God damn the Fentons for making their inventions look like vibrators. God damn Planned Parenthood for pointing that out in the first place.

“I know?” Danny raised an eyebrow at her as they rounded a corner. “Let’s just get rid of Johnny and Kitty and hope that takes up the rest of the day.”

“Oh, there you two are!” Speak of the fucking devils.

Danny flinched as he turned to see the ghostly pair that had been harassing them both all day. Kitty and Johnny stood together, both grinning excitedly.

“Can’t you guys just go fuck around with each other and stop fucking around with us?” Danny complained. Kitty gave a small scowl.

“We’re trying to help,” Kitty insisted. “I know Johnny already talked to you, but I’m pretty sure he left out some important stuff, like make sure you wash your hands. Clip and file your nails so that they’re not sharp or super long, make sure your hands aren’t freezing. Foreplay is very important.”

Danny wanted to die. He glanced at Sam, who seemed to mirror his emotions. Her face was red, and she wasn’t even looking at the pair, instead digging through her backpack. Likely in search of the Fenton Thermos.

Johnny gave an amused scoff, and he waved his hand. “Nah, it’s not that important,” he replied. Kitty shot him a look that could re-kill Pariah Dark himself. Johnny instantly seemed to realize his mistake.

“Yes. It. Is,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“I mean, we could overshadow you to show you how it’s done if you want,” Johnny suggested.

Danny and Sam both froze, eyes wide, and turned a brilliant shade of red before spitting out objections.

“NO! Nope! Not necessary!” Danny yelled as he covered his eyes, thinking that would somehow block the mental images in his head. “I can’t...Sam...ughhh. No, gross.”

“Well don’t seem too excited now,” Sam spat sarcastically, rolling her eyes in the process.

“N-no! It’s not that I wouldn’t want...I mean you’re pretty and...I like...I mean, you...what do I mean?” Danny groaned and dragged his hands down his face.

“Oh, dude,” Johnny shook his head, “don’t go there unless you want to be sleeping on the couch.”

“But I-” Danny started until Sam slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Chill out, Romeo. Now is not the time to remove your foot from your mouth.” She removed her hand before Danny licked it. That was something Danny and Tucker did. Ugh, boys.

“Nice touch ditching the tights though. You definitely had boys’ heads turning...even a few girls’.” Kitty tried to get them back on track.

“Uh, what?” Sam looked down at her legs.

“Yeah, even that big blonde sporty kid was saying some pretty graphic things about you,” Johnny added.

“WHAT?!” Danny snapped his head back towards the cafeteria.

“Oh that hit a nerve! Jealousy works, you know. That’s how I keep bringing Kitten back to me,” Johnny grinned.

Kitty rolled her eyes, “Yes, that is exactly what happens.” Her sarcasm was almost as good as Sam’s.

Danny completely ignored the ghosts bickering, focusing his attention on Sam. “Did you hear that? DASH was talking about you like that! I’m gonna kill him…” He trailed off as he made a fist and looked back towards the cafeteria.

“Danny, chill. It’s not a big deal. Dash isn’t into me because I spilled salad dressing on my tights,” Sam rolled her eyes and set her hand on Danny’s shoulder to bring him back down to Earth.

Danny swapped his attention back to her. “Uh, no...look, I mean, you’re very attractive and you’re only wearing a crop top and a mini skirt, it’s an easy step away from imagining you naked.” Sam raised an eyebrow as she put a hand on her hip. “N-not that I am imagining that, and not that I wouldn’t want to! I mean of course I’d want to, it’s just - you’re just….I’m going to stop talking now.” He glanced down at the floor and hoped he could somehow dig himself out of this pit that he just kept digging deeper for himself.

Sam pressed her lips together, both amused and flattered with only a hint of embarrassment, “You think I’m very attractive?”

“And he wants to see you naked,” Johnny added.

Danny’s eyes widened before he snatched the thermos from Sam’s hand, his face burning. “Alright that’s enough of you two!” He promptly sucked them into the thermos, spitefully shaking it a bit before putting it into his locker. “They can sit there the whole weekend for all I care.”

“Do you though? Think I’m attractive?” Sam asked shyly. “I feel like you and Tucker just see me as one of the boys and that’s how everyone sees me. I’m not cute like Paulina and Star.” She saw the panicky look on his face and smiled a bit, “I’m not going to hurt you if you answer this one. You have a free pass.”

Danny looked like he was having an internal debate in his head about whether or not she was telling the truth about letting him off the hook, but when he looked into her eyes, he knew she really wanted an answer. He never would have guessed that Sam was a bit insecure. He gulped before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh…” Was he really about to admit this? Out loud? To himself? To her?! He couldn’t help it, she was giving him a free pass. He started at her pale legs and trailed his eyes up her body to her perfect hips, pausing at her breasts for a few half seconds longer than he probably should have, and finally setting on her face. “Yes,” he choked out, his voice husky, “very much so.”

Sam relaxed a bit at his answer, feeling relieved. She smiled softly as she approved of his answer, and then that smile became quite sinister. “And you want to see me naked?”

Danny was a deer in the headlights, opening his mouth to speak before deciding against it. He couldn’t tell if this was still part of the free pass or if she was just fucking with him now. He was mostly sure it was the latter. He grabbed her hand and yanked her down the hallway towards the classroom. “Yeah okay, don’t wanna be late for that sex ed class!”

Sam laughed heartily as he hastily fast walked them from one personal hell to another.

#Tucker is my favorite part of this entire chapter #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #fic #stephanie writes sometimes

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tipsycad147 · 3 years

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Lilac in Magic and Medicine

Spring tends to be a favorite time of year for a lot of people. You walk out the front door and the birds are chirping, the weather is nice and there are flowers everywhere! As a Garden/Green Witch, I love plants and finding out ways to use them. One of my favorite plants, even though they are only around for a short amount of time, are the Lilacs. We have several Lilacs on our property that were planted by my great grandparents that still bloom every year. Lilacs are edible, have some medicinal uses and of course, contain magical properties as well. Keep reading to learn more!

Lilacs in the Garden

Lilacs, or Syringa Vulgaris, are a short term blooming shrub. It’s most commonly found in Planting Zones 3-9 here in the U.S. Most lilacs only bloom for about 2-3 weeks; but early and late blooming varieties can be staggered to increase your bloom time to a total of 6 weeks. Lilacs are available in 5 colors ranging from white, to magenta, to the traditional lilac purple.

Lilacs grow on old wood, so pruning after the spring is vital. A hardy specimen, lilacs can be transplanted by cuttings very easily to add more to your garden. Our lilacs draw bees, birds and butterflies with it’s tantalizing scent so we always try to keep them blooming.

Did you know Lilacs are actually part of the olive family? Native to the Balkan Peninsula in Southeastern Europe; people emigrating from Europe brought the shrub with them to grow and preserve a piece of home. Western pioneers brought lilacs with them during the 1800’s. Now you can find lilacs that grow nearly wild in abandoned lots or parks. Lilacs prefer full sun and a slightly alkaline soil to grow and bloom. The wood is a sturdy type that can be hollowed out to make a variety of tools.

These shrubs are a beautiful plant and even though they have a very short season; their vibrant green grey leaves(which are heart shaped) and the clusters of fragrant flowers make it worth having. But a commonly asked question every Spring is; “What can I do with my lilacs in that short amount of time?” Turns out there are a couple of medical, edible and magical uses for lilacs. I’m going to touch on the edible and medical real quick. Then give you some ideas of how to use lilacs in your magic as well!

Lilacs as Food and Medicine.

One thing I’ve started to learn as a witch, herbalist and homesteader is that there’s a use for practically every plant! We harvest at least a dozen or more plants from our yard every Spring and Summer; not counting what we add to the gardens, harvest from the forest or buy online!

Starting out, I was surprised how many other uses most flowers can have, besides just being pretty to look at. Given the short bloom time for Lilacs, I never really thought about using them until this year. But it turns out that 2 weeks is plenty of time to gather and dry flowers for all sorts of projects!

Lilacs in the Apothecary Cabinet

Lilacs are astringent, aromatic and a bit bitter. While most of the medicinal uses stem(see what I did there, ha) from the leaves and fruit, the flowers still have their own uses. Ingesting raw flowers leaves a dry feeling on the tongue but are bursting with flavor.

The most common use of Lilacs is as an astringent. Many common weeds and plants are astringent, including but not limited to: sunflowers, black walnut, black raspberry and stag-horn sumac. Many people are already familiar with the commercially produced astringent known as witch hazel.

Lilac flowers can infused with witch hazel or a carrier oil. That can then be used for acne, fine lines and wrinkles and other anti-aging properties

Using lilacs as an aromatic is completely different. An aromatic works by causing irritation to the place where it is applied. (Think about how sensitive the GI tract is.) Which in turn brings more blood flow and thus promotes faster healing! Gastric issues such as excessive flatulence or constipation are normally remedied very quickly by eating just a few small flowers.

Infuse lilacs in your favourite carrier oils to make salves, soaps and lotions. Lilacs are good for sunburn relief or soothing scratches, light burns and itches. As well as the previously mentioned astringent properties.

Other Uses for Lilacs

As beautiful and lovely as lilacs are, the fragrance is a fleeting memory once spring is over. Unfortunately, there’s no way to preserve the fragrance in an essential oil. Like many florals, it would take a lot of flowers and would be very expensive. There are some ways to preserve the flavor and aroma through absolutes, enfleurage and infused oils. The Experimental Homesteader has a great tutorial and more info about making your own lilac essences.Find that Here

Most commonly, lilacs are used for garnishes and flavoring for foods and drink. From sugared flowers on cake to lilac ice-cream and lemonade; there’s a number of sweet treats you can make with these cute purple flowers.

Some of my Favourite Uses for Lilac include:

Tea

Lemonade

Infused Honey

Wine

Jelly

Ice cream

Syrup

There’s a ton of tutorials for each of these on Pinterest!

If you would like to try the lilac jelly recipe its super easy! Head over to our Forsythia Jelly Recipe but switch out the flowers for lilacs instead!( Find that here)

Lilac honey is super easy, just add the flowers to honey and let sit for 2-6 weeks.

Make a simple lilac syrup by simmering the flowers in a sugar water mix on the stove. Use that syrup to flavor your lemonade or top your favorite dessert(or pancakes!) Plus it’s a gorgeous light purple color so it makes for a great gift.

Lilacs in Magic: Green Witchcraft

Using Lilacs in magic has a slew of myths and stories behind it; as well as a few ways to use it in your own personal spells.

What’s in a Name?

Lilacs have a few names depending on the area and connections. In Arabic, “Lilak” means purple. In Greece, Lebanon and Cyrus, lilacs are referred to as “paschalia” due to the fact that they bloom around Easter. (Or as they call it “Pascha”.)

Actually, the scientific name for Lilacs(syringas vulgaris) is thought to be derived from the Greek word “Syrinx” which means pipes. This is due to the wood’s hollow nature. Which brings me to the next section of Lilacs in magic: the Greek origin story.

The Legend of Syrinx

According to Greek Legend, Syrinx was a dryad (also known as tree nymph) who was a follower of Artemis, goddess of nature and chastity. Pan, as god of the forest and ruled by an bestial nature and lust, sought after her beauty. As a follower of Artemis, Syrinx was sworn to chastity and denied him. He chased her to the nearby river where Syrinx sought help from her cousins, the naiads, or river nymphs. With their help, she transformed into a Lilac bush, also commonly called a pipe tree or reed tree. Pan, frustrated that Syrinx had slipped from his grasp; cut 7 branches from the gorgeous lilac tree and tied them together into what we know as pan pipes today.

The Pipes, combined with Pan’s mournful music over his lost pursuit, holds merit in the language of flowers.These purple petaled flowers symbolize lust, love, and the fleetingness of life in general.

Lilacs Magical Properties

Blooming Lilacs show up for a short period during the Spring, typically between Beltane and Litha. (May-June). Much like honeysuckle, dandelions and forsythia, lilac contains spring energy and helps to jump start your life. Use it to give yourself a motivational boost, a mental or physical spring cleaning. Or use as an energy charge for your job or a new business venture.

Lilacs are commonly used for spells involving: exorcisms, banishing negative energy, love and lust spells. As well as protection spells and spells symbolizing the balance between life and death.

Lilac for Protection

Plant lilacs around your property to protect those inside its boundaries. Planting lilacs by your front door keeps negative energy from entering your home.

Bringing cuttings into your home is supposed to help banish negative energy and spirits. Except for some superstitions in certain parts of the UK. It was felt that white lilacs were too close to death and were very unlucky.(Unless it was a 5 petaled white flower which were considered extra lucky.) Lilacs were commonly placed inside coffins to cover the smell of death, much like gladiolas and other “funeral flowers”.

Hanging lilac branches over a newborn’s crib was said to encourage them in growth of knowledge and wisdom.(Especially in Russia)

Lilacs for Love and Beauty

When used in love and lust spells, lilacs are best for short fleeting summer romances or flings. Adding lilac oil to your wrists and behind the ears helps to draw love your way. You can also use lilacs for a spell to bring the fun and light back into a relationship.

To combine the medicinal uses mentioned earlier as well as the magical uses; Lilacs infused in witch hazel for a facial toner can be used to promote beauty, glamour and attracting love.

Celebrate Beltane by making a flower crown for yourself or your love.

Lilac Wood and Flowers

Wrap and dry lilac bundles to make your own incense smoke bundles. Combine with rose, lavender and sage for a love incense. Find out more info on wrapping and drying at Proflowers.

Use the wood from the Lilac to make wands, staves or runes. Lilac wands are good for banishing evil or negativity, raising psychic energy and vibrations, and attracting love.

Lilac Trivia

Lilacs are part of the Olive family. The Oleaceae or Olive family also includes olives(obviously), jasmine, forsythias and ash trees.

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson enjoyed the scent of Lilacs and planted them in their Gardens.

Vincent Van Gogh and Claude Monet were inspired by the colors and appearance of lilacs. They included the flowers in several paintings such as “Lilac Bush” (1889 Van Gogh), “Lilacs, Grey Weather”(1872 Monet) and “Lilacs in Sun”(1872 Monet).

In the Victorian Era, widows wore lilac blossoms on their lapel. This served as a reminder of their love and the shortness of life.

Lilac is considered the traditional flower for the 8th Anniversary. This means it is a suitable gift as well.

The Celtics regarded the lilac as “magical” due to their incredibly intoxicating fragrance.

In the United States, the lilac is the official state flower of New Hampshire. It represents the ‘hardy’ nature of its people

Lilac Magic Correspondences

Latin Name: Syringa Vulgaris Other Names: Pipe Tree, Reed Tree, Common Lilac Element: Water Planets: Venus Gender: Feminine Deities: Artemis, Pan, Gaea, Hades, Persephone, Hera* and Hestia* (*white flowers only) Powers: Expansion, Growth, Protection, Life and Death, Spirit World, Love, Psychic Ability Use for: Love spells, Protection Spells, Exorcisms, Aromatherapy, Beauty Magic, Body care(magical or not) Crafts/Recipes: Toner, Tea, Honey, Ice cream, Syrup, Wands, Runes, Staves, Garden/Home Boundary, Incense, Dessert Garnish

Are you in love with Lilac yet?

Even though Lilac only visits for a short amount of time; it leaves us impatient for it to come around again. Even if you missed this year’s harvest, save this info for next year so you can fill your home with yummy flowers and magic next spring. Feel free to save this info for your Book of Shadows or Grimoire pages. Also, make sure you visit our other Magical and Medicinal Plant Pages.

Will you add Lilac to your magic workings?

If you want the smell of lilacs even after the season is done; we offer a Lilac goat’s milk soap in the Store that smells exactly like this luscious plant! Made with nourishing oils and skin safe fragrance oils; its safe for sensitive skin and makes for a great Mother’s Day, Best Friend or Self Care Gift.

If you are new here make sure to check out all of our other blog posts over on the Blog Page. And don’t forget to follow us on Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram for farm photos, trivia, shop updates and more!

By Ariana

https://greenmanmeadows.com/using-lilac-for-magic-and-medicine/

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thewillowbends · 4 years

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Lucifer Fanfiction Recs

It's about time I did one of these for this fandom! This is by no means comprehensive or even everything I've read that's saved in my bookmarks. You can see more of them here if you want to see a fuller listing here. Instead, I've just randomly selected a few of my favorites that I'd like to boost for now, and I'll likely do another eventually with more.

Multi-Chapter Fics:

A Refraction of Light Author: Matchstick_Dolly Rating: M Genre: Adventure/Romance/Drama (Pick one, there are many!) Characters: Whole Cast, OCs Status: Complete Summary:The Sinnerman's legacy lives on in the LAPD as a new street drug is tied to a string of heinous murders. While Lucifer and Chloe struggle to solve the mystery plaguing Los Angeles, they discover they're stronger together than apart. In Hell, Cain climbs his way to the top. Why I Loved It: There's a lot of really good longfics in this fandom, but this one is definitely up there as one of my favorites. Elegantly structured with a complex, provocative, and excellently woven plot, it's an AU that takes off where season 3 ended and goes on a winding journey exploring Deckerstar, the meaning of miracles, and the nature of Heaven and Hell. This story is a monster - it's literally second place for highest word count on Ao3's Lucifer section - but it's worth the time it takes to watch it unfold. It's one of the few that I've seen really tackle the moral question of damnation and what the existence of Hell tells us about God in a thoughtful way. I started following this back when it was only at nineteen chapters and enjoyed it every step of there way. There's not one event or character that winds up wasted. I'd love to see it get more love.

Title: A Bloodless Cut Author: Moan Diary Rating: G Genre: Gen Characters: Chloe Decker Status: Complete Summary: She’s not the first woman to find herself alone in front of her bathroom mirror, scissors in hand, martyred hair littering the sink, suddenly face-to-face with the cold certainty that she’s made a terrible mistake. Why I Loved It: Post-S4 was ripe for a lot of Chloe character pieces, and this one stood out for me in terms of how it engaged her mistakes and flaws frankly while still giving her space to grow and excel without Lucifer.

Title: A More Gradual Descent Author: Liannabob Rating: M Genre: Gen Characters: Amenadiel, Lucifer Morningstar Status: Complete Summary: Amenadiel brings Samael back to Hell. Again. And again. And again. Why I Loved It: The relationship between the brothers has a lot of space for exploration, but few fics have done it to the extent and complexity as this one. It tracks the relationship between the two of them through history, from shortly after the fall right up to the start of the second season, and also their differing relationship to humanity as the world changes over and over with human industrial revolution. This is something I wish the show had thought about doing, even on a lesser scale, so it was satisfying to see a talented author take this on.

Title: A Divine Spark Author: umbrafix Rating: T Genre: Gen Characters: Lucifer Morningstar, Linda Martin, related cast Status: Complete Summary: There have been no new angels created in the time since Lucifer was cast down from heaven. What if God wanted something different in the deal that Lucifer made with him? AU from S1 Ep13. Why I Loved It: This was such an unexpected pleasure. I clicked on it out of curiosity and wound up devouring it in one night. This is a notable divergence post-S1 - there's no Goddess, for instance - and it definitely has some flavor of the comics to it, but what's so compelling about it is how provocatively it examines Lucifer's character, particularly in relation to Linda. Very creatively done with such a unique concept.

One-Shots:

Title: Devil Wind Author: mishasan7 Rating: M Genre: Comedy Characters: Lucifer Morningstar, Mazikeen, OCs Summary: Two cops are called to a disturbance down on the beachfront... a 911 call reported cannon fire, random screaming, and... tornadoes? It's just another day at the office for Long Beach PD at this time of year... or is it? Why I Loved It: It's funny as hell. It's the sequel to her previous fic, "Devil's Haircut," which is a spec fic about how Lucifer and Maze decided to head to Los Angeles prior to the reveal in "City of Angels." Just lots of fun and cleverly done from the perspective of two original characters who just...absolutely do not know how to deal with two infernal idiots.

Title: Perspective Author: Ithil Rating: T Genre: Drama, Character Piece Characters: Lucifer Morningstar, God Summary: The king was back, and order would be restored. Lucifer returns to rule hell, only to hear a very familiar voice offer HIM a deal. Why I Loved It: I've known this author since Underworld fandom, and I've always enjoyed the sharp, biting humor of her style. It's a great character piece and a caustic look at the troubled relationship between Lucifer and Hell and God.

Title: Let Me Down Slowly Author: Verbyna Rating: M Genre: Drama, Character Piece Characters: Chloe Decker, Daniel Espinoza Summary: A tear-out poster of Chloe in a bikini was tacked up in the break room for a whole day until Dan Espinoza tore it down. Why I Loved It: One of the few attempts I've seen tackle the tumultuous relationship between Chloe and Dan, tracking their relationship back to when it started all the way through to when it fell apart. Very sharply written character examination.

Title: The Long Reign Author: Baby Spinach Rating: G Genre: Angst Characters: Lucifer Morningstar Summary: Now returned to Hell for good, Lucifer seeks diversion among familiar faces. Why I Loved It: A very bittersweet look at Lucifer following S4. It just hits that perfect sense of melancholy in examining what a sacrifice entails while being a great character piece. The companion fic examines the story from Chloe's perspective and is, of course, worth reading, too.

Title: Loopholes Author: SpinnerDolphin Rating: T Genre: Dramedy Characters: Chloe Decker, Overworked Demons Summary: It wasn’t a perfect system, or even a very good one, but it was something, anyway. Season 4 spoilers. (Lucifer finds a way to contact Chloe. Kind of.) Why I Loved It: Told with humor and affection, it's a great post-S4 speculative piece that plays around with the concept of demon possession and how it may be utilized. It's sweet and romantic and perfectly bittersweet.

Title: Nothing Mortal Author: Erinyes_kiss Rating: E Genre: Drama, Romance Characters: Chloe Decker, Mazikeen Summary: Mazikeen finds the small joys of incarnation Why I Loved It: Gorgeously written Chlaze fic, a pairing that is sadly underutilized by the fandom. It was written during S1 and has that darker, biting tone of the story at that point. Just beautifully done all around.

Title: my piano sits against the wall Author: Cloudnine101 Rating: T Genre: Character Piece Characters: Lucifer Morningstar Summary: When Lucifer falls, all he can think is bloody finally. Why I Loved It: Excellent S1 character piece looking at Lucifer as both fallen angel to a man falling unexpectedly in love with a mortal.

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #fanfiction recs

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babetanatat · 3 years

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I was tagged by the always wonderful Quan (@billkinsdancing), the lovely Juliette (@ahysopae) & the darling Dira (@tichawongtipkanon) almost a month ago haha oops to do this thing so here it is lmao.

1. Why did you choose your url? Because I adore Gunsmile Chanagun with every fibre of my being and I wanted a url that was related to him. Yup.

2. Any sideblogs? Yes. @niwatem is my sideblog. I mostly use it to reblog Thai/Taiwanese/Mainland Chinese/Korean/Japanese dramas/actors/actresses/etc. I know I put a lot of that on here as well, but this blog also has a fuckton of K-Pop too and I know some people aren’t super into idols and shit so... yeah.

(I originally made it because I had planned on writing fic for 2gether/My Engineer/other Thai series and didn’t want that to clog up my main, ya know? But it’s been a year and a half and I haven’t written any fic at all.)

3. How long have you been on Tumblr? It will be 11 years on July 26th lmao fuck.

4. Do you have a queue tag? Nope. I run on a queue most of the time so I don’t see the need to have a dedicated queue tag. Good luck on guessing if I’m actually online or not lol. Spoiler alert: I probably am.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place? All of my Livejournal friends were talking about this new blog website called Tumblr so I made one for shits and giggles. I honestly didn’t think I was going to use it at all, but I’m still here so...

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp? Because Namtan Tipnaree is an ethereal goddess and I adore her.

7. Why did you choose your header? Because Bae Joohyun is very beautiful and I am very gay.

8. What's your post with the most notes? I have no fucking idea lmao.

9. How many mutuals do you have? No idea, honestly. Somewhere between 50-150? Idfk fam.

10. How many followers do you have? Almost 500 somehow? Which I cannot fathom at all because all I do here is reblog things from people a lot more talented than I am. I’m pretty sure a good portion of them are inactive though because the same 100+ people interact with my posts so...

11. How many people do you follow? 777, apparently. Welp, that’s embarrassing.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost? I’ve been here for almost 11 years so yeah probably.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day? Most of the day, honestly. Unless I’m sleeping/at work/too high to know where I am. I have no social life atm because of the pandemic so I spend probably way too much fucking time on here/Twitter.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Fuck no. I’m too old for that shit. But I will block people without remorse if they have terrible opinions and/or have fought with a beloved mutual. Get out of here with that shit.

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts? They’re a goddamn guilt trip imho. Being told that I ‘NEED to reblog this or else you’re a heartless MONSTER who hates children’ makes me not want to fucking reblog the post lmao. If I was going to reblog something that I felt needed to be signal boosted for one reason or another, but someone commented with ‘you NEED to reblog this’, this bitch isn’t going to do it now lmao sorry not sorry.

16. Do you like tag games? YES! I am terribad at actually doing them though. But please continue to tag me because it makes me feel so very loved, okay???

17. Do you like ask games? Yes. So much fucking fun.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous? I don’t think any of them are? I do have some mutuals that are prominent content creators in my fandoms that I never expected to follow me back because they’re way too fucking cool for me though, does that count?

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual? On several of them, actually.

I'm not going to tag anyone because I'm lazy as fuck (and everyone has probably done this by now haha), but if you see this and want to do it: consider yourself tagged.

An accurate depiction of me when I think about the mutuals I adore dearly:

#tagged #thank you so much!!#shut the fuck up anda no one cares #💖 💖 💖

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newts-fan-case · 4 years

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Pride - Henry Cavill x OFC

One-shot/Chapter number: This is part one of a new series/challenge I’m doing called “The Seven Deadly Sins” you can find more about it here.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC called Olivia, established relationship

Genre/Warnings: No warnings except for a little disclaimer: i took some creative licenses regarding the “movie” Henry is in, and the whole prep and red carpet stuff. Also, English is not my first language so a little help in grammar would be nice.

Rated: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,747

A/N: I just wanted to say hello to all the Cavill fans who are reading this, I hope you like this and hit me up with ideas for the next sins or prompts or any constructive criticism that you have. As always, the story is under the cut for better scrolling.

Pride: a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.

Oscar’s night.

One of the most important nights on Henry’s life, or maybe the most important to this day, at least. He was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Sherlock Holmes. And what a fantastic job he had done. His portrayal of the genius detective was phenomenal, and he showed a new side of the famous detective, doing a characterization that had never been seen before.

Olivia was so proud of him and his successes. He had already won the Golden Globe for best actor and she was sure he would win the Oscar too. He really deserved it.

They were preparing for the event. She was wearing a beautiful deep blue dress; it was flowy, and it barely brushed the floor. The dress was striking in its simplicity, not flashy at all because she wasn’t the main event. Henry was. But nevertheless, she looked ethereal in it.

They had been together for two years now and this night was the first one of them going to an event like this. How could she not be by his side in such an important night? She wasn’t going to be walking the red carpet with him, though. Olivia didn’t enjoy that kind of attention and she wasn’t a fan of pictures. Her decision caused a little quarrel, but Henry understood where she was coming from and he didn’t want to jeopardize her comfort and wellbeing. The important thing was that she would be next to him during the ceremony, cheering right by his side.

Henry entered the bedroom where a stylist was giving the finishing touches to her updo. Almost emptying a can of hairspray on her head. She looked gorgeous, so elegant and resplendent. Henry was elated for being the one man that got to be with such a marvellous woman. Olivia always said that he was the pretty one in the relationship, but right now she looked like a Goddess gracing his life with her presence and her smile. Where he a less humble man, Henry would say they would be the best dressed of the night.

“You look stunning, baby.” He said while approaching her. He took Olivia’s hand and made her turn around to appreciate her better.

She smiled when they locked eyes again.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, mister nominee.” She teased him, and he smiled at her, proud of his achievements too. “We ready to go?” she asked.

“Yes, I came to check if you were ready. Our driver is waiting for us and the one for the crew is here too”

“Alright, let’s go” She kissed him shortly and went to grab her clutch. It only had her phone, ID and lipstick. Then she turned to the stylist while taking Henry’s hand. “Barbara, thank you so much for helping me get ready. You did a wonderful job!”

“Hey, I only worked with what you already got going on, honey!” Barbara replied, following them out of the room.

Olivia smiled at her, the comment boosting her confidence a bit more.

The three of them, along with Henry’s assistant and publicist made their way to the elevators. There, two bodyguards joined them. And all of them made quick work of getting to the cars.

The happy couple along with Max, Henry’s publicist, rode on the first car, the others were behind them.

“So, Liv,” said Max, “you sure you don’t want to walk the red carpet with Henry?”

Olivia bit her lip and Henry squeezed her hand. She knew how important this was for Henry. They had already discussed it and she would be waiting for him inside, but she knew he wanted to ‘show her to the world’. Henry was proud of her and their relationship, and he wanted to show everyone what an exceptional woman he had by his side at every chance he got.

When she hesitated to respond, looking at Henry with an insecure look in her eyes, he said “Baby, we already talked about this, it’s fine if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable.” He kissed her knuckles and rubbed her hand to try and relax her.

“But… I know you want me there. And I want to be beside you too… at all times, but I- It’s- I’m just… scared”

Her eyes full of doubt pained Henry. He put his hand on her cheek, cradling it and making her look into his eyes.

“If you want to do this, I’ll be by your side at all times. I won’t let anything happen to you and if you’re uncomfortable we can cut it short. I don’t care.” He said firmly, she caught a glance of Max cringing in her peripheral vision. “And, we still can go according to plan, you go in with Lucy and wait for me. It’s fine either way.”

She bit her lip, hesitant, “you sure?”

“Of course. I love you. And I don’t’ want to put you in a compromising position”

“I love you, too.” She took a deep, shaky breath, “okay… let’s do it together then, I don’t want anyone getting ideas of stealing you from me.”

Henry beamed at her answer and chuckled. She put her hand around his neck and kissed him, smiling too. He softly caressed her face and deepened the kiss. They were in their own bubble, lost in one another.

“Mmh-hmm,” fake-coughed Max, making the couple part and look at him, “we’re almost there, lovebirds. And with the change of plans we need to sort quickly through possible questions they might ask you. Liv, you’re wearing…”

And that’s how they used their last minutes before they got to the venue. Henry was buzzing with excitement. Olivia was still a bit nervous, but she sucked it all up for her man and focused her attention on what Max was saying. She couldn’t ruin the night for Henry, she knew how important this was for him.

The car came to a stop and Olivia could feel her heart about to beat out of her chest, her hands were getting clammy and Henry looked at her.

“You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?”

She took a deep breath again, this time, smelling some of Henry’s scent. That calmed her down a bit and she nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“All right, but remember, say the word and we cut the carpet short. Okay?”

She bit her lip and nodded. Max only shook his head and muttered something, but at this point Henry wouldn’t let him make his girl feel bad, so he just gave Max a dirty look.

The publicist got out of the car first, making sure their bodyguards had arrived, and when they opened the door Olivia could hear the screaming of people and photographers.

Henry got out then, making the screaming increase in volume. He waved at the people and then stretched his hand to help Olivia out. She took his hand and exited the car very carefully. Mindful of the dress, watching that it didn’t catch in her heels and putting a smile on her face. She didn’t want any gossip about her looking like she didn’t want to be here.

The loud noises and the flashes almost gave her a headache, and after that first shock of noise and movement, the whole “walking the Red Carpet” was a blur. The only constant thing for Olivia was Henry by her side, with his arm around her waist and his whispered instructions or compliments in her ear.

She had to admit, after some time, Olivia did feel pretty good. Especially during the interviewing part, she couldn’t help but look at her man with adoration and pride in her eyes when he talked about the movie and the work all the cast and crew had done. And every interviewer made the point of saying how beautiful she looked. This, in turn, made Henry practically fawn over her and shower her with loving words and compliments. He really wanted to rub in everyone’s faces the magnificent woman that had chosen him to be with her.

Finally, they got to their seats. They were in the same table as Millie Bobby-Brown, who was there with her mother, and with the director of the movie, who was there with her husband. They all made small talk while waiting for the ceremony to start.

When the host finally appeared, the room quieted, and the show started.

The ceremony was going well for their table. Millie had won the award for best actress, which had made her mother, the director and Olivia cry because the young woman really deserved it and it was a huge accomplishment.

Next up was Henry’s category and Olivia could feel him buzzing with anxiety.

“Love, relax, it’s going to be fine. You were great and even if you don’t win -which is not going to happen-, it’s a great feat that you were even nominated” She tried to reassure him while intertwining their fingers and rubbing his leg with her free hand.

Henry sighed and gave her a quick kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, “and I’m already very proud of you either way.”

They smiled at each other for a few seconds and then turned their heads to listen to the presenters of the award. Henry composed himself before the camera pointed at him when they read his name for the nominations and waved politely. Meanwhile Olivia clapped beside him.

“And the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor goes to…” everyone waited with bathed breath. Henry could feel his heart pounding and his ears ringing. “Henry Cavill!”

The room erupted in applauses and Henry was in shock. Olivia’s voice was what took him out of his reverie while she hugged him.

“Congratulations baby!” she said in his ear and then gave him a quick kiss. “Now go, go, go!”

He kissed her again, not caring that the whole world saw them and then hugged the director on his way to the stage.

Onstage, Henry couldn’t help but bask in the attention and the applauses. He could barely see Olivia trying to wipe her tears of joy and he couldn’t feel prouder of his work and what his live had come to.

A/N p.2: I hope you liked it and as you might know, likes, comments and all that jazz are greatly apreciated. If you want me to tag you on the next part let me know! And I hope you all can accept me in the Henry fandom as a fellow thirster for this man. I’ve been lurking for some time and I’ve finally come out of my shell (i think) so if you want to chat or something hmu!

Also, if anyone wants to guide me in the hashtag game to get to more people and all that it would be greatly appreciated

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x original female character #cavillvirus #mywriting #henry and olivia #seven deadly sins #mine

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 4 years

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Where did the idea that Merlin is bad at healing magic come from?

Ok, that was a clickbaity title, I know where it came from: that scene in the Crystal Cave where he can’t heal Arthur’s wound. Possibly, also his struggle to heal him from the poisoned arrow in The Coming of Arthur Part 1. However, although I understand 1) the desire to nerf him at least a bit and 2) the delicious irony of someone as good as Merlin and who would like to be gentle as much as he does being crap at healing magic but good at combat, I don’t think this is very accurate.

I mean, this belief is the farthest thing from baseless. I mentioned TCC, and I can’t explain why he’d be unable to heal Arthur other than lack of skill (beyond theorizing that the magic of the Cave was impeding him because he was supposed, destined, if you will, to ask for Taliesin’s help and agree to look at the crystal in exchange, which admittedly doesn’t have much support from canon, or Merlin’s general lack of magical ability that caused him, for example to make a rose instead of a strawberry for Freya, although that was in the previous season). Then there’s TCoA, although that one’s a bit... complicated, for reasons I’l talk about in a minute, and, last but not least, there’s the Hollow Queen, where Merlin tries to heal himself but he can’t. Besides that, there are some instances when he didn’t try to heal people so we can extrapolate that he was unable, like when Mordred is hurt in The Beginning of the End, when Will and Freya are dying in The Moment of Truth and The Lady of the Lake* or when Arthur passes out in The Last Dragonlord.

The one from TCoA is complicated, because as I said before, he struggles, and by the time the scene cuts off it seems like he failed, but when Arthur wakes up, he only seems to have problems with the wound itself, not the poison, and doesn’t feel the pain until he walks on it. Then, without a hint of the fever he had before, he walks all the way to Camelot, a day or more, until he can’t go on anymore, but Merlin tells Gaius the spell didn’t work, BUT then Gaius says the wound’s infected, not poisoned, which would be explained by the whole traipsing about with a wounded leg and no treatment, so... I’m not sure what to make of it.

Then in THQ, there were the ameliorating circumstances of being... you know... dying from poison. It’s more a matter of power than healing skills (when he tries, his eyes flicker like cheap old lightbulbs when he tries to do magic). But we’ll count it.

So that makes it 5 times he would have liked to heal someone with magic but couldn’t due to what we can assume is a lack of skill (I’m not counting Mordred because I don’t think he’d dare to use magic in that case, since Morgana seemed to want to be involved and kept up to date in his treatment, proved by how she watched as he did it without magic), two of which are dubious because he seems to be at least partially successful or because there were extenuating circumstances.

Then there’s times where there were people to heal but the circumstances were... peculiar.

One was his father in The Last Dragonlord. He dies much more quickly than Will, not to mention Freya, which suggests an even worse wound than the one the woman who grew up with Druids, notable healers, said was too deep to heal. Merlin says he could save him, but Balinor cuts him off so he could give his last words, presumably because he, a man we also know possesses some healing skills, knew it was pointless. I really have to wonder if there was anything any ordinary sorcerer could have done (I mean, not to victim-blame, but I didn’t see Balinor trying to heal himself), that even Merlin himself pre-The Diamond of the Day could have done, so I’m reluctant to draw conclusions about his healing abilities from this.**

While he heals Gwen in With All My Heart, technically he does it not through any healing magic but by taking her to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and summoning the Triple Goddess, so it doesn’t help measure his skills either.

Additionally, (and here’s where I start to answer one of the most important questions in this post, which has remained unsaid until now, but which has underlined every single line to the moment: “what the fuck are you ranting about you big dumdum if all you’re going to do is agree that Merlin’s bad at healing?!” It’s about the refutation) there’s his healing of Morgana in TCC. This one’s also weird, because he does heal her, but he needed Kilgarrah’s help to do it. It’s possible that he only gave Merlin the spell, like he did with Sigan, but he has a strange sound effect in his voice when he casts it, so it could also be that he had some extra guidance from Kilgarrah to help him along, such as a power boost or an instinctual understanding of how to perform the spell. Like the last one, then, I don’t think this example gives us any reliable information on his healing skills.

But! It does start us off on the next part of this discussion, which is the times Merlin has successfully healed someone.

The earliest example of this is The Mark of Nimueh, where he heals Gwen’s father, Tom. He just sneaks in, puts a poultice under his pillow, casts the spell, sneaks out, and done! Man awake in seconds, cured by morning. Of course, success isn’t as interesting as failure (might be the reason why they continued this particular storyline by having Gwen accused of sorcery instead of just letting her live), but two things stand out about this healing. The first is that Merlin used a poultice for it, which will come up again later, so make a note of that. The second is that this happens before TCC, so it’s unlikely that Merlin just took that failure to heart and tried to improve.

But, TCC is the next time since then that he makes an attempt at healing magic, which, whew, talk about a time gap! That’s two seasons, and at least 2 1/2 years! Make a note of this, too. The time after that is, at least, in the same season - TCoA, in which we’ve settled that Merlin seems to have partial success with Arthur’s wound. (“Yes, you’ve already said this before!” Just go with it.)

Next, there’s The Wicked Day. We know that he did the spell right because everything went to shit. Once more, he used aids for the spell, a potion and incense form sage.

The very next episode, Aithusa, without a clear idea of what they’ve been given, only that they’ve passed out and have difficulty breathing (he might have figured out what it was from the smell of the poultice that he found in the stew), he manages to save all four knights and Arthur from poisoning, this time only with an enchantment.

Then he heals Gwen’s leg in The Hunter’s Heart. Once again, only a spell. Funnily enough, it’s the same wound he tried to heal in TCC, only in a different place.

Last but not least is the poison Gwen uses on Arthur in A Lesson in Vengeance. By the time Merlin has an opportunity to treat him, he’s moments away from death - Gaius says his heart’s nearly stopped, and Merlin himself doubts he has the power to heal him. No potions or herbs, although it’s interesting to note that he does motions similar to chest compressions.

So, to keep tally: his success rate when dealing with poisons and drugs is 100%, and it’s the same for times when he got to use aids such as potions and poultices. It also applies to all healing attempts not subject to extenuating circumstances (magical interference such as the Lamia’s spell or the blade being forged in a dragon’s breath, and when Merlin had to heal himself while he was dying) from TWD forward.

We can see him improve from TCC (season 3) to ALiV (season 5) - he actually makes significant improvement from TCC to TCoA, and from there to TWD and Aithusa. It seems like he learned from his experience in TCC and decided to make up for his lack of natural talent at healing magic by studying. And here’s where it gets really funny. Because we’ve established that there was a time, long before TCC, where he healed someone successfully, and that was Tom, in TMoN. If you’ll remember, around that time Merlin was much more likely to fail the first few (hundred) times he tried a spell, like the one to make that dog statue real and the one to enchant a weapon to fight the griffin. So, way back then, Merlin went, made a poultice, cast a spell and succeeded on his first try, when before (and after) that he’d have difficulties with new spells.

It... actually looks like he had a natural talent for healing magic.

Okay, hang on! you might say. You spent the first half of this fucking novel talking about his healing goofs, don’t come at me with this bullshit now! you might say.

And here’s where you should pull out those notes I asked you to make. Because between TMoN and TCC there’s a world of difference.

To start off, in the first one he had preparation. He’d been able to look for and study an appropriate spell in his book shortly beforehand and, most importantly, he had a poultice. He’s had a perfect success rate when using those. Look at Dragoon - I’ve talked before about how hilarious it is that Merlin struggles to turn off a spell most have trouble achieving, let alone keeping up. In that first ep, Queen of Hearts, Merlin prepares a whole ass ritual to age up,*** but later needs a potion to go back to his own age. On the other hand, every time after that he just casts the spell and he has no trouble undoing it. While it’s conjecture, it’s a pretty solid theory to say that potions and the like, as I’ve been foreshadowing, function as aids when casting spells. They can be necessary, but sometimes they just give the sorcerer a boost. It follows, then, that any spell cast without them will be weaker, such as, say, the one in TCC.

But! He doesn’t use potions for almost any of the other times, either!

Well, that’s kind of tied into my next point: time.

As we’ve established, almost three years go by between TMoN and TCC, and Merlin doesn’t try to heal anyone in that time. He does, however develop his magic in other ways. By The Moment of Truth he can summon a tornado! By Le Morte D’Arthur he can cast the spell he so struggled over in Lancelot! He can summon a shield that can withstand dragon fire! Went against a Sidhe and a Pixie! He- okay, he got better at combat magic. You might see where I’m going with this.

But right then, he needed to heal Arthur! He’d done it before! But... he’d gone rusty.

Honest to God. Yes, this is conjecture. No, I don’t have any proof other than what fits with canon. No, I don’t think it was intentional on the writers’ part.But in my mind and in my heart this is what happened. He was originally good or rather decent at healing magic, but after not using it and instead doing other kinds of magic for so long, during what were technically**** formative years for him as a sorcerer, that he actually lost the hang of it. To be fair, though, he makes up for it pretty quickly.

I didn’t think this through to the end before I wrote it, when I started I thought I’d just conclude there were more examples of Merlin being good at healing magic and that would be it, but putting it all together I’ve found a probably unintended pattern of Merlin having a natural talent for healing, but being forced to neglect it for the sake of combat magic. In conclusion, I’m sad.

*Scenes which I just watched to make this post and now I’m crying fucking hell what I do for stupid meta.

**I don’t apply the same logic to Freya because the length of time that must have passed between the scene in the tunnels and her death by the lake, not to mention the amount of jarring that she must have gone through in the trip, makes me think that there probably was a window of possibility there that they just didn’t have the resources to take advantage of. And. I mean. The strawberry scene. I’m just more likely to believe Merlin still had a way to go, magic-wise, but it’s also because of this that I’m not convinced that this is about him being bad at healing, specifically, as much as not being that skilled in magic overall.

*** I also rewatched the scene where he does it and ho-ho-ho-holy shit, his excitement at his idea is adorable.

****Because he was born with magic, he learned ways to use it way before going to Camelot, but this was a new stage of his studies that consisted f different things learned and different ways to learn them and different ways to apply them.

#Merlin BBC #Merlin #am I metaing yet?#I said in conclusion I am sad your honor

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