#he wants supposed to get a beard at first but it's second nature for me to draw him with one at this point
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on his way to win Ed's heart back!
#hansoeii returns with yet another devastating steard fanart#he wants supposed to get a beard at first but it's second nature for me to draw him with one at this point#anyways enjoy#ofmd#ofmd fanart#our flag means death#our flag means death fanart#stede bonnet#stede bonnet fanart#Rhys Darby#my art#fanart
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The Ole Switcheroo.
The Justice League and the Justice League Dark are in need of some questions answered about the alarming numbers of tears in reality coming from this small nowhere town in Illinois and don’t seem to be stopping any time soon. So using every bit of summoning and containment magic the JLD have and the most prominent source of energy they could find in the city they decide to summon the owner of the energy.
***
“And you’re sure this containment spell will hold whatever comes through,” Superman asks as he observes Zatanna and Constantine marking out the circle.
“Should, most beings from that dimension have very specific powersets but all of them include basic flight, invisibility and intangibility. Hence why the civilians of the city refer to them as ghosts.” Zatanna says as she finished her marking with a flourish.
Batman grunts in response as he’s looking over data, J'onn focuses on Zatanna after she lists the powers, “I assume that is why I am here? Those powers are remarkably similar to Martian abilities.”
“Yes, should the being somehow escape we will need you to retrieve them if they become intangible.”
“Understood.”
“Ready John?”
“Let’s get this shiteshow started, luv.” John Constantine picks up a book and begins speaking in a voice of white noise and screams, the circle lights up an eerie green and wisping into the air before a flashing light reveals a white haired teen in a a jumpsuit floating in the air.
“What? How did I- Where am I?”
Batman steps forward, “That’s not important right, we just want to ask you a couple of questions about Amity Park.”
“Then I can leave?”
Several of the League Members share some looks before Batman answers, “If you aren’t a threat to this dimension.”
“Awesome, I can leave then.”
“That remains to be seen.” Zatanna cuts in, “First lets start with your name, can we have your name?”
“No, sorry but you can call me Phantom.” the teen chuckles at a joke he only knows.
“You can call me Zatanna then, the others are Superman, Batman, Constantine, and Martian Manhunter.”
Phantom perks up at the last name, “Wait, like a real Martian? I thought they died out a long time ago.”
“You know of us,” J’onn asks, perplexed.
“Yeah, there’s a few of you guys floating around the Zone,” Phantom shrugs before resuming looking at the circle, “Is this like a question circle? I couldn’t stop myself from saying that.”
“It shouldn’t be, it is merely a summoning and containment spell. Constantine?”
“Mighta slip some truth spellwork into it, had to be sure it was telling the truth. Pan dimensional beings aren’t really know for being trustworthy, Zatanna.”
“Constantine,” Zatanna shouts at the man in outrage.
“First of all,” Phantom interrupts, “Not an it, I’m a he and second I don’t exactly have a problem with the spell. Just be aware that it’s reduced your any number of questions down to three and then I get a turn asking the questions. Deal?”
“Deal,” Batman says before the two magic users can speak. “I’ve already thought of the most prominent question we needed answers for.”
“Alright, shoot.”
“We have been noticing an alarming number of dimensional tears in a small town on our planet and your energy reading is almost always in that town. Why?”
Phantom tilts his head stroking an imaginary beard, “Hmm, I’ll allow that as a single question I suppose. The dimensional tearing is a combination of a couple of reasons; the city is in a thin spot between your world and the Ghost Zone or the Infinite Realms as some of the older ghosts call it. The other reason is because there are a couple of human scientists who have punched a permanent hole into the Zone, usually natural portals appear and disappear at random and usually only for a few seconds at most. Honestly I surprised you’re worried about the portals now when the Bermuda Triangle has existed forever.”
“What does the- No, nevermind.” Phantom smirks at the Batman’s almost slip of a question. “You still haven’t answered my question; why is your energy signature always in that town?”
“Because it’s m̷̢̨̛̰͍̮̝̪̞͉̩̬͕̣̮̱̻̎͋̉͘ͅį̵͍̫̭̱̝̮̯̞̝̺̤̺̦̝͖̜̅̉̂̊́̑̿̆̈́̕͝n̴̫͎̼͇̭̾ẽ̵̱̭̗̥̱͕̒̋͛͂͆̑͝͠ͅ, I protect it by sending the other ghosts back to the Zone.”
“Who are the most dangerous beings from that dimension and are they a threat to this world?”
“That depends on who you- Me and Clocky. Wait really? Huh, I mean I guess I could see it; Space and Time. I guess this circle means like, the Truth and not what I believe to be true. That’s good to know. Anyways that’s your second question, best make the last one count.”
Batman thinks for a moment, looking over Phantom with a new eye at the revelation that he was the most dangerous, him and this Clocky being at any rate, “If there is an Incursion of beings from this Ghost Zone, how do we protect the earth.”
“You don’t. I do. That’s three questions,” Phantom snaps his fingers and the world blurs as it spins, coming back into focus as Phantom is now outside of the circle and the League is in it. Phantom takes on a sharp tooth grin as he pulls a notebook from inside his body, “Now my first question is for Martian Manhunter; what was Mars like when the Martians were alive?”
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Friends to lovers + sexual tension tropes: Charlie's wrist is injured but he needs to shave so he asks reader for help. Have fun!
Close Shave
I’m a slut for this kind of thing tyvm
Okay sidenote but this turned out so much cuter than I anticipated
"Careful now..."
You're rolling your eyes, retracting the razor in your hand from his stubbled cheek. "Don't be such a baby, Charlie. I know what I'm doing," you tease the apprehensive man. "I do have some experience in the shaving department, you know."
He mumbles, "Yeah well, that's why I asked."
"Still can't believe you managed to slip on that ice on your porch—even after I told you to do something about it no less! Said somebody was gonna get hurt. Now here you are, wrist sprained—more irritable than ever—and too helpless to even shave your own face."
Charlie's gaze meets your own and for once you feel something brewing in the pit of your stomach. Staring into his eyes, fingers grazing along the side of his jawline—you could never deny he was a handsome guy.
"I mean really, Charlie. What would you do without me?" There's a wide grin accompanying your lighthearted words.
"Yeah yeah," he scoffs, "Just get on with it will ya?"
There's the familiar look that manages to flash across his face for but a split second. The one that has his brows furrowing, eyes rolling back. The one that cautions you to cut your shit. A look you've seen from him far too often.
It wasn't like you didn't know what you were signing up for when you accepted this strange task of his. The two of you were close friends after all. Stuck through nearly the worst of each other throughout the years you'd known him.
Yet something felt different about this.
The way you were standing with him in the middle of his bathroom. How still he stayed while your hands caressed the sides of his cheek, faces so close his cologne felt dizzying. The way his lips seemed to naturally form a frown, eyebrows furrowing, whenever he was contemplating something.
Shit—you had to admit the sprouting grey hairs lining that beard of his were making you feel some type of way. A way that had you questioning your morals. Maybe your entire friendship. And like it didn't help when your thigh brushed against his anytime you moved in closer.
"How close of a cut do you want?" You ask, stepping back for a moment to snatch the shaving cream—and to calm yourself.
"Just keep the mustache."
"Should have guessed," you tease, lathering your hands, "Wouldn't want to frighten the guys at the station."
This comment earns you a small chuckle.
"Might scare you too," he adds.
You're smiling, nodding your head as you once again place the now lathered palms of your hands against the sides of his face. It's surprising to you just how soft his skin feels despite the stubble—which frames his jawline so nicely. You even find yourself sulking over how much of a shame it is to shave it off.
Gradually your laughter dissolves into a gentle silence that fills the air. You're impossibly close now—closer than you already had been—eyes locked together, breath fanning against his cheek. You're tight lipped, eyes darting down to focus as you begin to press the edge of the sharp razor to his skin.
An outstretched arm reaches out, hand clasping the edge of the counter in front of you. Charlie lets out a long sigh, eyes pursed shut, "Careful," he willfully reminds you.
"I thought you trusted me."
"Yeah well that was before you held a razor up to me."
"You asked me to do this, remember? You don't wanna back out now that I've already started."
Cue another drawn out sigh.
"Suppose not."
"Now try not to move so I don't nick you."
Charlie grumbles compliantly.
The first swipe you take is slow and cautious—the blade scraping down the bristles lining one side of his cheek. A breathy gasp slips past his lips—a sound that may or may not have caused your heart rate to spike. Or heat to pool in the pit of your stomach and your face for that matter.
"You doin' okay?"
"Of course." One swipe. "What's up?" Another.
"Just checking in."
You hum out something of a response, turning to the sink to run the razor under water before swiftly wiping it on a towel. "How're you holding up?" You ask, pressing the blade to his skin once more.
"Just fine," he answers before adding in a, "So far."
"Whatever you say." You're smiling to yourself—you can't help it when he's teasing you.
"You almost done yet?"
Heaving a small sigh, you take a swipe close to his chin. "No," you respond.
"I'd be done by now."
"Want me to rush?" You threaten.
Charlie laughs, "Take all the time you need," voice low in your ear.
You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.
"That tickles."
Heat flushes to your cheeks once more. "Suck it up," you advise, breath fanning the crook of his neck.
Another chuckle exits his lips and you can feel it rumble from deep within his chest. "Not pulling any punches today, huh?" Charlie says, tilting his head back to allow you more access as the razor begins to drag underneath his jawline.
"Afraid so."
For a second you look up to catch the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth and you find yourself briefly lost in the way his teeth ever so slightly rake against the bottom of his lip. Merely a second and somehow you manage to press just hard enough to cut his skin.
"Dammit—!" Charlie winces, pressing a hand to the wound.
"Oh shit—! I'm sorry!"
It's a small nick. Nothing intense. But that doesn't stop you from panicking.
"I'm really sorry...I didn't mean to—!" You stammer, urgently turning around to grab a damp towel—
—before stumbling backwards.
But Charlie manages to pull you to him, holding you securely to his chest so that you’re trapped between him and the counter, faces mere inches away. “Careful, sweetheart,” he nearly whispers, “Don’t need you all hurt too.”
If only he weren’t so damn smooth.
Because now you’re left absolutely breathless.
“Let’s finish up, huh?” Charlie suggests, brushing your hair away from your face.
“Good call,” you manage to say.
#team charlie#charlie swan#charlie swan x reader#my writing#twilight#twilight renaissance#charlie swan deserves better#request#kinda projecting bc i also recently injured myself#but like in the most uncool way lemme tell you that popping your kneecap out of place while getting in the tub is not fun#certified uncool moment
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It is time for my favorite game...
Good Omens, What If.
Now yesterday, I read an amazing post by @ishomieokay, who postulated a very convincing theory that Aziraphale was going to end up being the Big Bad, because Supreme Archangel power was going to corrupt him.
Naturally this made me sad -- until I really started to think about it.
What If - Aziraphale did become power-mad?
What if he did become 'You Bullied Me And Now I'm Your Boss, Bitch' Supreme Archangel. Like it would be so FUCKING BAMF. Utterly horrifying, but utterly BAMF. He walks through the elevator, one of the archangels says something snide (my money is on Sandalphon, asshole), and Aziraphale just Supreme Archangel kicks him through the Heavenly Moon Door and makes him Fall.
And while the other archangels are standing there, gaping, he straightens his collar and says, "I think you'll all find I have very little use for abusive language. Do keep that in mind. Where is my office?"
After that it's like as it's Lucifer 2 - The Principality Strikes Back. Aziraphale censuring angels left and right. Uriel doesn't get kicked - Uriel gets beaten for what they said about Crowley and then thrown out for a million mile dive. He makes Michael re-do the entire Second Coming. He's punching and kicking a hole in the archangel system that should be filled by someone who is willing to pull on the brakes. But no one does! Everyone is Too Fucking Scared.
The Metatron realizes that he hasn't trapped Aziraphale up there with them, they are all trapped here by A z i r a p h a l e. Aziraphale who is going to burn everything down because none of it is worthy (Aziraphale isn't worthy) of God's Love and they are just going to tear Heaven and Hell down to the nubs in the floor, and maybe Earth too because you know what, none of it is worthy of God (Crowley).
Finally, Saraquel has had enough. She slaps the Down Button to Earth. Rolls herself into whatever dive bar that Crowley is in, and tells him point blank that if he doesn't help stop Aziraphale, it's going to be worse than Armageddon. Everything is going to be destroyed down to atoms, even wine.
Crowley gets to do two things that he's probably always wanted to do. One, he gets to be James Bond. Breaking into the Heaven (the Bond villain lair), knocking out some angel guards, maybe even punching Metatron in the face for getting them all into this situation in the first place.
Second, he gets to kick open the doors to the Supreme Archangel's office, stare Aziraphale down from where he's seated behind his invisible glass desk (I imagine him petting a white duck. Why? I don't know.), looking forbidding and dressed in a silver white that matches his hair and his beard. Stereo-typical God, y'know.
And they stare at each other, for a long moment, glowering with all the hurt, and pain, and still - still - love that they have both known for six thousand years.
Finally, Aziraphale speaks, his purple eyes flickering, "So what exactly are you supposed to be?"
Crowley smiles That Sharp Smile, that one that Aziraphale adores. The one he actually fears. Crowley reaches behind his coat, and says, "Me? Crowley. Anthony J. Crowley. And I'm now the world's greatest magician, because I'm about to make you disappear." Aziraphale tenses in his throne, filled with that same sense of dread and can it be, hope? that Crowley is here to end him.
Crowley doesn't look away as he growls, "Hocus Pocus, Supreme Arsehole." He pulls in front of him .... a bird cage. With a nightingale in it. Who immediately begins to sing. Crowley takes off his glasses, looks Aziraphale dead in the eye, and speaks in a rough voice. "I forgive you."
And just like that ... the Supreme Archangel crumbles down into dust, leaving behind a weeping Aziraphale.
End scene.
... I'd probably add some explosions in there. Just for fun. Oooooh and when Crowley is kicking ass through Heaven the song that plays is 'Don't Stop Me Now'.
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So I know that Ezra’s flirtation with the Dark Side is generally considered to be his lowest point in the series, and AUs where he’s an inquisitor are almost always tragic and depressing…but for a while I’ve been playing around with an AU that’s basically a cracky dark comedy — one where Deputy Director Wren of the Advanced Weapons Research Division carries on a sometimes-secret-but-other-times-not-so-much romance with the new Grand Inquisitor. 🤪 For some reason I’ve had a ton of fun writing dark!Sabezra from their own Imperial POV, so I wanted to share this meet-cute (or meet-evil?) snippet:
“You know, this would have been a lot easier if you were already dead!”
“Do you expect me to apologize for that?!”
“Yes, yes I do! This entire errand is completely beneath me!”
As a Mandalorian — even if her people reviled her — Sabine had no particular affinity for Force-wielding maniacs. The galaxy was a lot better off without thousands of do-gooder Jedi frolicking from system to system, starting wars and spreading chaos on their endless crusade to convince themselves of their own piety. She knew significantly less about the Sith and their acolytes, but after a total of twenty minutes in the company of the Grand Inquisitor, she couldn’t say that her opinion had improved much.
“Too bad for you, Governor Tarkin wants me back in one piece,” she spat. Brushing hair out of her face, she peeked from behind the stack of supply crates to fire a few more shots at Saw Gerrera’s terrorist minions, still pouring out of the base by the dozen. “Half of these traitors are wearing stolen Imperial armor. If High Command stopped dumping credits into Stardust and gave me what I needed to mass-produce the Duchess, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
The inquisitor’s red blade hummed past her ear as he swatted a blaster bolt back across the airfield, striking a Tognath directly between the eyes. Standing over her, shielding them both from the Rebel volley with one arm folded behind his back, he did cut an impressive figure — tall and broad-shouldered with his dark hair tied into a knot and beard trimmed meticulously, he wielded a cold resolve that Sabine was very glad to have on her side at the moment…not that she’d admit as much, of course.
“In case you didn’t notice,” he hissed, “I’m wearing Imperial armor too!”
“Believe me, I noticed!”
As miserable as her capture had been, her rescue wasn’t going very well either. Gerrera’s men had blown up the inquisitor’s TIE before they could escape, and the old Republic airbase — now a Rebel airbase, she supposed — was nestled in the heart of a canyon, providing an irritatingly effective natural defense against enemy fighters and bombers. Their reinforcements were already long overdue, but at this point, nothing less than a platoon of death troopers could drive off the swarming rebels.
With a flick of his wrist, the Grand Inquisitor sent a thermal detonator sailing back the way it’d come. “I’ll be having words with Admiral Konstantine when we return,” he snarled, which Sabine understood as a rough translation for, “I’ll be throttling Admiral Konstantine when we return.”
But ‘when’ seemed to be a bit optimistic. She knew that even with the Rebels’ archaic weaponry and pitiful training, it would only be a matter of time until the two of them were overwhelmed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an Ishi Tib and Twi’lek setting up a heavy blaster cannon on a tripod — and as amusing as it might’ve been to watch the broody, quippy dikut beside her get smoked like a womp rat, she needed him alive if she had any chance of surviving herself. (Also, as an artist, she couldn’t bear to see a face like that pulverized by a bunch of insurgent rubes.)
Raising her blaster, she fired three shots: the first struck the Ishi Tib in the flank, sending him stumbling into his comrade; the second caught the Twi’lek in the gut, right as he began to unload on their position; and the third took out the leg of the tripod, which collapsed onto its side, spraying those nearby with a short burst of friendly fire.
“You’re welcome!” she barked. With a sharp elbow to his thigh (a very well-muscled thigh, as it turned out), she earned herself an indignant huff, probably the closest the inquisitor ever came to expressing gratitude.
#I’ve already got a ficlet planned where Sabine has to file a workplace relationship disclosure form#and Krennic is like “uhhhhhh if Dr. Wren is in a serious relationship that might mean MARRIAGE and BABIES and that’s not good for quotas”#so he hides from her for weeks until he gets a midnight visit from the GI#needless to say the form gets signed lol#but Sabezra bragging about each other’s evil shenangins to their coworkers????#Galen Erso: “Should I put you down with a plus one for the office Life Day party?”#Sabine: “Nah better make it a minus three instead. My husband can’t go anywhere without killing at least four people hahahaha.”#and of course…#Ezra: “My wife invented this weapon that incinerates Mandalorians by turning their ancient cultural heritage against them!”#Vader: “The ability to incinerate Mandalorians is insignificant next to the power of the Force.”#Ezra: “Yeah yeah yeah I know but it’s just so cool!!!!”#sabezra#sabine wren#ezra bridger#sabezra fanfiction#my fanfic
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Harry Potter Characters + Love Languages II
Part I
Neville Longbottom
Expressing
Acts of Service
Neville is always willing to put himself out for others, as we see when he helps Harry out during the third task.
Neville's grandmother was never one for physical affection or particularly kind words either, so I think that the language Neville has had the most experience with is acts of service.
For Neville, love is making sure you're always fed and never, ever cold.
Best believe this guy gives you all his sweaters. Those lovely cable knit ones too.
Very shy when it comes to giving compliments, but he's always thinking adoring thoughts.
"Neville," you gasp. "You didn't." You look up from the box in your lap in utter amazement. "Your favorite sweater? The one your Nan knit by hand?" He ducks his dark head, avoiding your eyes. "Well," he says. "Well. I know- I know you really like it. And I've got loads. Of sweaters, that is. I've got loads. So I want you to have it. Happy Birthday."
You're silent.
Neville's cheeks are reddening rapidly. "There's a scarf. I- I've been practicing my crocheting." When you don't reply, he rambles on, "I know it isn't much, but I thought you'd like it, so I-"
"Neville Longbottom, you are the greatest partner on earth," you announce solemnly, and then launch yourself at him. "Oh," he murmurs into the kiss. "Oh, alright."
Receiving
Words of Affirmation
Neville struggles a lot with self esteem, and like I said, his Nan doesn't seem as if she was very verbally affectionate.
A partner who is constantly telling him how valuable he is would be amazing for him.
He wouldn't believe you at first. He finds it really hard to accept the fact that anyone could think highly of him, hell, he can hardly believe you're dating him in the first place.
After you've been together a while, he knows that you mean every word you say and it flusters him even more.
He also gets very bashful during physical contact. I'm talking stuttering, physically CANNOT look you in the eye, hands trembling, ears RED
It takes him quite a while to be comfortable with touch, but if you're patient with him, he'll come to really enjoy it.
Once he does, he loves holding your hand. It just makes him feel so safe. Even linking your pinkies is enough.
"You're so cute," you murmur idly. You're sitting on a couch in the common room together, holding hands as Neville reads. He chokes on air. "What?" His fern-colored eyes are stretched wide, his mouth is slightly ajar, and the tips of his ears are beginning to go pink. He looks slightly scandalized. "I said," you repeat, with a grin on your face, "You're adorable." His eyes dart from side to side, as though he thinks you might be talking to someone else. "I-well. Me?" he asks weakly. You laugh outright. "You. You and no one else, Neville."
Cedric Diggory
Expressing
Physical Touch
His father is very affectionate with him, so it just comes naturally.
He's very respectful about it though. He'll grab you in a tight hug and then pull back to ask if it's alright with you.
Cedric uses kisses as currency. By this I mean that if you upset him slightly, he'll insist on a cheek kiss to make up for it. You ditched a class without him? Kiss on the cheek. You stole his food? He doesn't mind, as long as you kiss his cheek.
Schedules study sessions for the two of you. He brings lots of snacks and water to keep you hydrated. He's a very patient tutor and rewards you with a kiss when you focus.
Cedric loves it when you lay on him.
"Merlin's beard, Cedric," you exclaim. "I thought you were half decent at quidditch." Cedric is stretched out on a cot in the hospital wing, with a cast on his left arm. Lying so still, he looks dead, vampiric. For a few seconds your heart stops, and then he winces playfully up at you, and the illusion is broken. "Ouch. Words hurt, you know."
"Bet they don't hurt as much as flying directly into a bludger," you retort.
"Nothing does, I suppose," Cedric grimaces. Then he looks up with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you going to kiss it better?" You stare.
"Cedric Diggory, you have broken your arm. You have a broken arm and you want me to kiss it better?" He nods, honey-colored hair falling over his brow. "Pretty please?"
Receiving
Quality Time
Cedric is very busy most of the time, what with prefect duties. quidditch, and trying to keep up with his grades. If you make an effort to spend time with him against his oppressive schedule, he will be head over heels for you.
Please, please, please go on walks together. Cedric knows a ridiculous amount about any animal you could come across, and with him, every walk is a nature walk. He's the kind of guy to follow an ant to make sure it gets safely back to its hill.
If you go to his games, you'd better believe he's going to do his very best to give you a win. The fact that you're supporting him is almost euphoric, and he can't help but apply the adrenaline to chasing the snitch.
"Diggory dives for the snitch, he misses, he HANGS OFF HIS BLOODY BROOM, HE'S GOT IT, THE MAD LAD'S GOT THE SNITCH, AND HUFFLEPUFF WINS!" Lee Jordan screams into the microphone. "RAVENCLAW, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LOSE TO A TWINK?" Cedric's jubilant expression drops visibly, and you burst into laughter. You move down the stands towards him.
"Good game, twink," you greet him, throwing your arms around his neck. "Oh, not you too," he sighs, looking down at you with mock sadness in his golden brown eyes. "And here I was about to thank you for the victory." "Thank me? Whatever for? That was all you, Ced," you protest. Cedric pulls back to look you solemnly in the eye. "Thanks for showing up. You made me want to win, for you. That energy? That win? It was for you."
#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x you#cedric x reader#neville longbottom#neville x you#neville longbotttom x reader#idiotic ink#fanfic
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Gallavich Nature & Wilderness Prompts 🌿
Prompts for fics, headcanons, or discussion, art, etc. Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt! If any fics like any of these have already been written, please feel free to recommend them to me!
Mickey’s on the run from the cops. He needs a place to stay until the heat dies down. A small logging town seems his best bet. Even better, the logging company needs workers - cash in hand and no questions asked. How hard can logging be? Turns out - very and his hot boss, Ian, with his flannel shirts and rugged beard, doesn’t help matters.
The lighthouse stands on an isolated, dangerous point. Mickey’s worked there ten years and he’s scared off every single guy who’s come to work there. He prefers to run the lighthouse in solitude. His boss disagrees and keeps sending people. Ian’s the latest one and he doesn’t find Mickey scary in the slightest. In fact, he finds him kind of funny and this is definitely not the image Mickey is trying to project.
Ian and Mickey barely know each other but they’re paired up for their company’s nature retreat. That means sharing a tent in the middle of a forest for a long weekend. Each pair is given a different set of coordinates and they have to camp there for four days in isolation. Mickey doesn’t see why they can’t just pretend they went and stay at home, Ian wants to use his ROTC training and do everything by the book. It’s going to be a long few days.
Best friends for as long as they can remember, Ian and Mickey are about to leave middle school and enter high school. But when things at home get bad for both of them, they decide to run away. Should be simple, right? And how hard can it be to survive on their own? Turns out living off the grid in the nearest forest is pretty tricky and two city kids are not cut out for it.
Mickey’s stolen a bunch of cash and he needs somewhere to hide it. Deciding that a state forest is a good place, he digs a hole and buries the money. Ian is a park ranger who keeps seeing a suspicious man entering the forest late at night. He watches the man for a few weeks, curious as to what he’s doing. By the time he realises the man is hiding (probably) stolen money it’s too late because he’s got a crush.
Ian doesn’t end up going to jail for arson, which is a good thing because Mickey ends up in witness protection rather than prison. He finds himself under an assumed name, working at a hotel in the depths of a national park. When the hotel offers a raffle to win a weekend stay for people who leave their business cards, he can’t help but rig it so Ian wins. Meanwhile, Ian is confused about how and why he’s won a weekend away at a hotel he’s never been to, in an area he’s never visited. Still….it’s free so he goes and is greeted by a very familiar face.
Mickey has always been able to grow things. It comes naturally but it’s a rare talent. Because of this, he hides it. Ian has always dreamt of growing vegetables and flowers and has spent his life trying to cultivate them. He’s not had much luck on his allotment so far, until one day he does. Mickey has always been drawn to new growth and unfortunately he lives next to a communal garden. He’s done a good job of suppressing his powers but he can’t help but encourage the redhead’s plants.
It’s supposed to be a fun weekend camping in the woods, celebrating their second wedding anniversary, but a wrong turn and bad cell signal leads them to get lost. Then things get worse - the weather changes, one of them gets sick/injured, and they wonder if they’re gonna make it to their third year of marriage.
Ian has a new job for the parks department and his first task is a month long stay at an isolated lakeside cabin to monitor the wildlife. He’s looking forward to the peace and quiet. What he’s not expecting is that there is a guy squatting in the cabin. Mickey’s illegally hooked up to cable and wifi and has a massive store of food and booze. Oh and he’s not leaving just because some parks department dork has shown up.
Mickey is stranded and injured in the woods after his dog ran off. Ian is the search and rescue guy that finds him. But Mickey isn’t leaving without his beloved dog and if that means going deeper into the woods, then that’s what he’ll do. Ian tries to promise him that the rest of the team will find Mickey’s pet, but Mickey just will not let himself be rescued. Looks like Ian is going to have to stick with him.
Ian’s been training for the ROTC survival weekend but when he and his siblings get taken by the DCFS, he’s not allowed to go. Mickey knows how much this retreat means to Ian, it’s all he talks about, so he decides to surprise Ian. He promises him a weekend at his place, but when he shows up to get Ian, he drives him to the forest. Their weekend turns out less survival based and more romantic than either of them could imagine.
The desert is comfortable, a place where people can disappear. And that’s what Mickey likes. He can run from his life in Chicago and enjoy the anonymity of being a bartender in the middle of nowhere. He likes the quiet nights where he can smoke outside and there’s no one and nothing around for miles except stars. But then a guy from Chicago starts to frequent the bar and this guy, Ian, despite being a stranger, is bringing up far too many memories of city life. Memories that he thought he’d blocked out….
Mickey is the groundskeeper for a summer camp. He’s looking forward to the two weeks of quiet before the chaos of summer. He’s planning on doing his final bits of work all by himself. Ian is the overeager camp counsellor who shows up early by accident. Mickey is pissed but there’s nothing he can do. As things are not completely set up yet, Ian has to share Mickey’s cabin.
When their school offers a field trip for low-income students, Ian jumps at the chance and manages to convince Mickey to go along too. It’s an overnight trip to an island on Lake Michigan. Everything goes fine until the morning they’re supposed to leave. Ian and Mickey wander off to have some alone time and end up being left on the island. By the time their teacher realises, it’s too late to go back so they’ll have to spend a night in the wilderness.
Ian’s never heard of equine assisted therapy and it sounds expensive and daunting. But his therapist thinks it will be good for him and they’ve found a charity that offers extremely discounted lessons. Besides, they say it’s just learning to ride a horse, not any sort of special training, so how hard can it be? Mickey’s worked at a stables on the outskirts of the city for several years after his juvie parole officer gave him the choice between that and working in a factory. He’s never taught anyone to ride but when the instructor for the specialist program leaves abruptly, Mickey finds himself teaching a handsome redhead everything there is to know about horses….
Mickey’s a tattoo artist who has lost his inspiration. When a city-wide competition offers a cash prize that could save his studio, he enters despite not having done a good tattoo in awhile. He wanders the city looking for anything to inspire him and comes across an exotic plant centre. Ian is curious about the new customer who begins to come in regularly - not buying anything, just looking closely at the plants and rudely telling Ian he doesn’t need any help. When he eventually does share his story, Ian is intrigued and decides to find Mickey the perfect flower to inspire him.
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DannyMay 2023. Day Nineteen
"No Ctrl+Z/backspace"
Ao3
Summary: After he witnesses everyone he loves die in an explosion, Danny meets a being that looks like a man. Crossover with the Sandman.
Warning: Suicidal ideation. Major character death.
- - -
Danny was empty, in core and heart. He had hollowed out in the span of seconds; he had been whole, seconds ago when his family was alive and he was void now that they were dead.
He knew he would keep moving, at some point, he had already gone through this. Dan had already gone through this.
But right now, he would stay here, kneeling next to what would become the grave of those he loved.
“Well, there it goes again.”
Danny looked up through his dishevelled bangs and found a mountain of a man standing next to him, contemplating the scene sadly.
“What are you?” Danny asked him plainly.
There were several little things about this guy that painted a bigger picture that Danny couldn’t really see and that someone normal would not even know existed. But even if Danny couldn’t see what it was he knew it was there.
“I am… Andy, that’s my name.”
Danny only kept on staring at him, unblinking, until the being finally sighed and gently pulled Danny to his feet with unrelenting strength and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s walk, Danny. There are things we need to talk about.”
- - -
Danny followed Destruction as they made their way through ruins and more ruins. Destruc- Andy, since that’s what he preferred to be called, had explained a bit about himself, his nature his post, and why he had left it all behind.
“Well,” he said, turning back to face Danny, “mostly, all.” His smile came mostly as a grimace as he looked down at him, only receiving an impassive stare in return.
“The thing is, with beings like me, with concepts like me, is that when we don’t do our job it tries to do itself, restore its balance.” He looked sadly at him. “In my case, that’s easy. Plenty of beings willing and ready to destroy things, you know? But sometimes,” he pursed his lips, and continued, “sometimes, the universe tries to replace me with someone else, but it can’t really do my job without me, so it’s just- senseless mayhem… that helps no one, that means nothing, and of which nothing comes, nothing changes.”
“.... Dan, me.” Danny whispered, wading through the grief and the pain to wrap his mind around this new development, this new problem.
“Yes.” Andy said. “That’s, heh, that’s the only time I ever touch my tools, because otherwise…”
“So you’re here to kill me.” Danny said quickly, bluntly.
Andy flinched, and sat down in a tree stump in the desolated forest they had stopped at.
“It’s not… something I want.” He said, scrubbing a hand down his face, his beard.
“But you have to do it. You will.”
Andy looked at him, with something Danny couldn’t name gleaming in his eyes.
“It’s not something you should want, either.”
Danny stopped himself from snapping at him to not tell him what he should or shouldn’t want; this was- something big. If someone like, like whatever kind of being Andy was had to come see Danny even though he had quit. He couldn’t just jump into it because- because there was nothing else he wanted anymore.
“But none of that matters.” Danny said, putting the pieces together. “Because this wasn’t my second chance. It’s yours. Clockwork- you were supposed to kill me the first time around, but you didn’t, and that’s why Dan… that’s why he existed.” It stung, to know that he wouldn’t have succeeded, that all of this, his hope, his effort, weren’t supposed to bear fruits, that he was doomed.
Who the fuck made these rules? Who decided that, because one guy didn’t want to spend the rest of eternity destroying everything and anything Danny’s loved ones had to be screwed over? How was that fair?!
“It’s not… that I have to kill you, Danny.” Andy was staring at him, and Danny knew he was being measured up, his worthiness to live weighed. “I don’t know why my father would accept getting involved, when he’s… never mind; but killing you is not the only option.” He stood up again, and closed the distance between himself and Danny, who stared back unflinchingly.
He had already lost everything, he wasn’t afraid anymore.
Andy lifted a fist, up to Danny’s chest, and in it he held a sword’s knob.
“I could give you my post.” He said. “You could become Destruction of the Endless, take over my- over the realm, become properly immortal.”
“What would happen to you?” Danny asked.
“Don’t worry about me.”
Danny scowled. That’s not how it worked; he worried and cared and protected, that was his thing.
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, no.”
Andy snorted softly. “We are between a rock and a hard place, yeah?” He chuckled. “I’m- I’m sorry, Danny.”
Danny looked at him steadily and, somehow, managed to give Andy a small sad smile. “Me too.”
Destruction shifted the grip in his sword, and swung.
- - -
Hello, it is I, over-thinker extraordinaire. How is it that this isn’t an awful, jumbled mess of a first draft? Did you cheat and edit it? No! I planned out every paragraph at least three times in my head before writing them down in my notebook. What is in my notebook is here.
The only things I erased were misplaced quotation marks, where I thought I was closing a dialogue but realized it should be going before I even started the narration, because I hate misplaced quotation marks when I read and even more when I write.
I knew I just couldn’t do any first draft not because I think it has to be *perfect* from zero, but because if I felt I needed to change the course of the story and couldn’t because of what I had written, I would be upset, and that’s why this took me several days to write. For example, Danny wasn’t supposed to die, Destruction was only there because of the havoc, and wanted to tell Danny he could move on in spite of his grief, but you see what happened.
Another little thing I allowed myself was spelling mistakes, mainly because English is not my first language and I get confused with certain words that I’m good with in Spanish, so.
Anyway I’m planning on posting this separate and edited once I finish the event if the volcano doesn't explode!
#Danny Phantom#The Sandman#Danny Fenton#major character death#Destruction of the Endless#DannyMay 2023#DannyMay2023#dannymay#day nineteen#no ctrl+z/backspace#suicidal ideation#ghostly-scrypts
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Well well, I took the time to analyze almost second by second what little can be seen of Eddie's room.
Simply, why not?
(I hope that in volume 2 this Friday we can see more)
First of all, shot of his bedroom door from the inside, we watch Eddie hurry to his room already with his pretty dark eyes on his beloved guitar which I want to call Betty for some reason (don't tell me he doesn't would name his baby)
We can notice parts of two posters, and two warm light lamps. The poster on the left I assume is that of a movie, I can't figure out which one. The one on the right is a skull that I feel could be from a band of the time, movie, or just a cool illustration (if anyone knows please enlighten us in the comments) From this moment we can say his room feels warm, because of the lighting and how it is reflected on the walls...
(He looks so excited in this shot omg) We can clearly see a TV here, so we might think that his bed is just on the other side of the picture. I had not noticed the TV until I did the analysis. Anyway, I don't quite understand what he has on top of the television, it looks like a kind of neon sign or something like that... What do you think? I think it's not a window... But there seems to be one behind the TV.
Well, the room doesn't seem to be very big so let's say we're in the middle (? We can see a little more of that light anomaly above the tv (? And then we already notice the beginning of a kind of big banner/sign that you can tell it must have been painted by hand. I can't quite understand what it says but we can think that it is referring to his band or probably about some protest he may have attended. I'm probably wrong, but that black cube in the corner of the furniture looks like a kind of speaker or something for his music, then some random things.
Eddie finally manages to get to his guitar Betty (? And we can see that he is a womanizer because he has ANOTHER GUITAR MORE BASED ON THE FLOOR. We could say that it is acoustic because of its supposed round shape, perhaps. Behind this guitar that we could call Daiana (not because it's almost the same as my name...) We see an amplifier of the time, it doesn't look very good but I'm 99% sure that it is. We see the final point of the flag and finish noticing that it was written with red spray paint. A smaller lamp and then we see what I imagine to be flyers with dates from his favorite bands, or from his band itself.
A bandana hanging from his lamp, and below some sprays that can be spray paint, whipped cream, or shaving cream which I doubt because I doubt he will grow much of a beard (? but who knows. A giant poster, probably his favorite since it is also next to Betty, the mirror that reflects her beautiful face. A jean jacket hanging, and there is also another black amplifier on the right that seems to be under A RED YO-YO? Or is it a marijuana grinder hahahah. Above the black amplifier there is a skeleton that I don't know if it's 3D or if it's a very well done poster, maybe related to Iron Maiden.
Last image, please, look at his precious little face, so happy to see his most precious object in his natural habitat.
We can see a beer/soda can on the side, more band brochures, one of which seems to say "Metal Night" which we can assume is an under date where several bands played, probably his too. There is a very small and colorful skeleton, which I would have used on a t-shirt in my teens, but I can't quite remember where it came from...
And that have been all! I really think that the fact that it is such a small room and such his world makes it cozy and warm. A place where you would feel safe. I would feel that way if they asked me! I hope we see the other side of his room in the last few episodes when he goes to get his guitar and gives us an amazing guitar solo.
Please comment if you think I missed something, if you recognized a poster, figure, etc, and tell me if you liked this necessary analysis of Eddie's room ♡
#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#netflix stranger things#st4#st s4#stranger things s4#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson simp#eddie stranger things#86' baby#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine
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| riverrun library; two lovers meet and put it all on the line.| omer and lucrezia
When Omer say in the sept before arriving at Riverrun, he stayed there for hours. He was there for so long a Septon asked him if he needed a place to sleep. It's then he realized he'd need to shave his beard soon and would do with a change of clothes. The Tully's were always kind to him. Casimir being one of his dearest friends, oldest. Strange thing about life. Two of his best mates were Kings. And soon one would be his goodbrother. His goodbrother that would marry Lucrezia Redwyne. And that hurt him. It didn't hurt because he thought from some place of jealousy. It hurt because their duty to Cedric and the Reach would always come first. Nothing would get in their way. Not even the love they shared.
And though they could not spend their lives in each other's arms, it didn't mean he wouldn't talk to her. While he sat in that sept, he thought of all the things he wanted to say to her. And he something came to his mind. There is so much she doesn't know. So much he's been hiding away as he lived in the bottle and used drink to feel a man. And now, as their world pulled him apart, he desired her to know the man he was and the man he is. Perhaps, one day, there would be something for them. Maybe the River King would end the betrothal. He couldn't see why. Unless the pools of emerald he enjoys drowning in come around.
Omer asked her to meet him somewhere privately. Drew a little map to the library if she didn't know where it was on the vast grounds. Better to tell her now. Better to put it all out there. Things that meant nothing could mean everything. How could he say what he needed to say? Plainly. A sober Omer Florent didn't shy from the truth. He didn't hide. Never did he deal with the fallout from the North, and now he had no choice. The Ironborn dreams. The cultist. And now, a civil war brimming. Bubbling to the surface.
"Thank you for meeting me here, my lady." Omer smiled at her., it was brief as he took he hand and kissed the back. He pulled out her chair, then took a seat across from her. "There are a lot of changes happening rather quickly. And I thought of you the entire time i read and reread that letter about Iona Tully. I thought of how in love with I am. And how I want to find anyway to make you my wife and yet there are parts of me you don't know. Parts of me no one knows and I can't push away things and pretend that because they mean nothing to me, they don't hold a weight."
Omer started right away. The knight of the realm, the well respected Lord Commander, appeared with ease. But it was more than his natural preference for formality. Even if a part of him would never return from the North, before Lucrezia Redwyne sat the Omer Florent who could have had her as his wife, had he been a man months ago.
"When I returned from the North...I tried to play a game of being okay. Staying away from people and drinking. I drank so much that so mornings I woke up still drunk. I like to think I hid it well, but by the time we were in Dorne, I was a mess. And I took Gareth Hightower into my bed in the Kingguards tower. A way to avoid the loneliness, I suppose. If I wasn't alone, then no one could take me. If my bed had someone else in it then how would they choose me a second time? And no, I won't sit here and tell you of every woman who shared my bed but this...I know this is something you must know. And I don't know why. Honestly, I forgot he existed after horseshoe rock. I didn't see him again. He came around. Talking. Hanging out on my couch as I worked. But I never touched him again. I didn't touch anyone after that...I didn't know why."
Omer stopped talking. He knew why.
"I know why. It's because when you came to be on that ship, I thought of the summer they attacked the Arbor. I thought of looking at you and telling you I need you. I thought about the day I left and how we promised to not forget. How I promised I wouldn't forget you and I didn't. I pushed it away. I tried. And I think, for a while, it worked. But you chose me. And it was like having your favor in a tourney all over again. It was like feeding squirrels with you and watching dolphins. And I no longer wish to live in darkness. To live in whiskey bottles and drinking arbor gold until I can't see."
Omer pushed his hair away.
"There's a different between worthy and ready and I'm sorry it took me so long to be ready. And I'm sorry for telling you all this and that I keep talking. And I understand if you get up and leave right now. I just want you to know... I am ashamed of who I've been these last months and I love you. And I know love isn't enough and I know we have duties to our King and our realm, but I will never not love you. And for a man to love someone, he has to give her his heart and bear his soul. So, here I am, my soul on the table. Heart already in your hands."
Omer takes a drink of the fruit juice in front of him, running his tongue over his lips. "I guess I want you to know everything. And if the Gods ever decide to give me a chance to have you as my wife, as my forever, then I hope we both will want to answer."
| @lucreziasredwyne |
#.*. scenes from a love story; lumer#.*. lucreziasredwyne threads#.*. omer threads#i got carried the fuck away you don't have to match this
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imagine being the ex-friend of the slytherin crew. [she/her] (no voldy bc ew)
had this thought at 3am last night while fangirling with my friend last night. sorry for any errors <3
angst, mentions of parents disowning child, blood prejudice, mention of childhood/forbidden crush
- [ ] you had known draco, blaise, theo, pansy, astoria and daphne since you were very young.
- [ ] since you all were two to be exact. your parents were close and your birthdays weren't too far apart, so it was only natural that you all became a crew growing up, anxiously waiting for your eleventh birthdays.
- [ ] you all were inseparable. you learned to fly together, talk together, walk together... hell, you had all learned you were wizards together.
- [ ] you were always closer to blaise than the rest of the crew. you were younger than him, though not by much, and he seemed protective over you. as inseparable the rest of you were, blaise couldn't go anywhere without you, and the same goes for you to him.
- [ ] how ecstatic you were when you all got your hogwarts letters! you were going to be in the same year and hopefully, probably, the same house!
- [ ] it was expected of you all to be in slytherin, all coming from very long lines of prestigious pureblood serpents.
- [ ] the other six were more than confident that they would all be in slytherin together. you? not so much.
- [ ] you were very nervous, to say the least. you didn't portray the slytherin traits as much as the others.
- [ ] and when pansy or blaise would try to reassure you that it would be fine, you couldn't help but wonder if they were trying to convince you or themselves.
- [ ] and because you didn't portray the serpent traits, that made them all extremely protective of you. blaise especially, draco and theo coming close in second, and the girls just wanted to make sure you were okay.
- [ ] but the moment the sorting hat yelled out a name that wasn't slytherin, everything stopped.
- [ ] your friendships with your lifelong friends, your crush on blaise (okay, that didn't go away), everything you grew up with just... disappeared.
- [ ] your now ex-friends wanted nothing to do with you, even your parents didn't want to speak to you. your housemates were cruel, jesting about how you were a stain on their house, and a snake deep down.
- [ ] it was safe to say you had no one.
- [ ] the crew started being mean to you somewhere around christmas of first year. before then, they had just ignored you. just like everyone else.
- [ ] after christmas though... they seemed to have a new hatred for you.
- [ ] especially blaise, which hurt the most. you swore you were seeing things when you thought you saw sadness somewhere in his eyes whenever he was rude to you.
- [ ] you were alone for the remainder of first year, and for the first two months of second.
- [ ] that's when you met luna, neville and ginny. you guys were thick as thieves, and for the first time for two years, you were actually happy.
- [ ] of course, your childhood friends were still mean to you, nothing had really changed on that part. but you were... happier, and that hurt them. because you happier without them, and that wasn't how it was supposed to be.
- [ ] they supposed they should be glad that you were doing better. last year, they were going mad out of worry for you. apparently you had stayed at hogwarts for christmas out of request from your parents, and it was christmas day when the adults told the rest of them to stop associating with you.
- [ ] it remained fairly passive over the next few years, you remained close with luna, neville and ginny, and had even befriended the golden trio and the twins!
- [ ] the serpent squad didn't like that too much, but they supposed your current friends were better than no friends, and as long as you were happy, they were happy
- [ ] but they still continue their kind-of bullying. they weren't as cruel to you as they were to others, but words still hurt and boy do they have a snake's tongue on them.
- [ ] blaise could hardly stand being away from you but his mother had made him swear that he would not associate with you, the blood traitor.
- [ ] all he wanted to do was hold you, but he rather bullied you instead.
- [ ] it was the beginning of sixth year when draco and pansy had gone too far. the other four were just watching blankly, trying not to let their discomfort show as the two reprimanded you, mocked you, and insulted you in the middle of the great hall. calling you a blood traitor, a stain of your family name and house name, and even going as far as saying "no wonder your parents don't want you, just look at you!" while the all the slytherins around them laughed. or at least, pretended to.
- [ ] you had looked at them for a long time, teary eyed and red faced, just trying to understand what you did to deserve this. until you nodded your head, said "okay," and walked out of the great hall.
- [ ] they heard your friends call your name, your closest ones even running after you.
- [ ] theo and blaise looked like they were about to beat draco to death, astoria and daphne were just disappointed in pansy, they knew how much she missed you, and yet she ruined any chance of you forgiving them.
- [ ] blaise eventually decided against killing the blonde and ran after you, the rest following suit after a moment.
- [ ] it didn't take them long to find you, sobbing against a wall with your head in your hands, ginny, nev and luna all crowded around you. rubbing your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.
- [ ] "i don't know what i did to deserve that," you cried, sniffling as you wiped your nose on your sleeve and looked and ginny.
- [ ] "oh love, you didn't do anything," the ginger said, wrapping her arms around you.
- [ ] "don't listen to them, y/n! they're just prats!" assured nev, leaning against the wall awkwardly, with one hand on your back.
- [ ] luna played with your hair, "yeah, y/n, they don't deserve your love and kindness."
- [ ] "thank you guys. i mean it. without you three i don't know where i would be." you laughed, but no part of it was humorous.
- [ ] draco, being the blonde he was, decided it was a good time to intervene, "hopefully alive, haha."
- [ ] the six of them had come out from around the corner, feeling ashamed and wanting to hit themselves for making you cry.
- [ ] "what do you lot wanf? haven't you done enough?" asked ginny, placing herself in front of you.
- [ ] "yes but.."
- [ ] "no, you don't get to talk. now piss off before you do even more damage."
- [ ] "we just want to apologize," said blaise.
- [ ] you scoffed, "a bit late for that."
- [ ] pansy looked down, "we're really sorry, y/n, for what just happened and for everything the past six years. you know how our families are and they told us to stop talking to you... so we did."
- [ ] all feelings of sadness were gone now, pansy's words has ignited a flame within you, one you've been holding in for years.
- [ ] "stop talking to me? so that gave you permission to be bloody awful to me? merlin's beard, you six were worse than umbridge on her bad days! you could have just... i don't know, explained what happened in first year? and apologized for abandoning me? and maybe we could still be friends! but no, you lot ruined any chance of that ever happening again. so thank you for that." you paused to take a breath. your audience was wide eyed and shocked, not quite believing you had such anger in you... but oh man, you weren't done yet.
- [ ] "and let me just say, blaise, your insults hurt the most. merlin, i thought the world of you. i thought you were my everything. but that all just went away the moment you thought not associating with me, meant making my life a living hell."
- [ ] you were, once again, crying. you took a deep breath and sadness took over you once again, you mumbled an "excuse me" and took off down the corrider.
- [ ] the serpent squad was stunned. they hadn't realised what they did effected you that much. blaise was upset with himself, disappointed, even. he felt the same about you, even if you both were too young for it to be love, and now he knew he never get it pack.
- [ ] theo cleared his throat and tried looking anywhere but at the trio in front of them, who were looking at the six with anger and disappointment.
- [ ] "you guys couldn't even begin to understand what she's been through," neville said after moments of awkward silence. "not long after the sorting ceremory, her parents sent her a letter, practically disowning her. before that, you guys abandoned her. she was alone for nearly a year and a half before we met her. and by merlin she was a wreck."
- [ ] ginny and luna chuckled, not out of humor, but out of irony. this situation was similar to the situation you were in when you met them.
- [ ] neville ignored them, and the curious stares the six were giving him, and continued, this time fueled by anger.
- [ ] "we were the ones who picked up the pieces. we were the ones who made sure she didn't die after losing everything she had ever known. we were the ones who made her smile again, happy again. we picked up the pieces because you weren't there, and you were exactly what had caused it in the first place." neville spit out the last sentence as if it were venom, hoping to hurt them as much as they hurt you.
- [ ] they were all on the verge of tears, daphne and astoria were holding each other and looked to be in the most pain, because they missed you the most.
- [ ] "i hope you lot are happy with yourselves, you're about five years to late to the pity party."
#harry potter x reader#harry potter oneshots#harry potter oneshot#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#harry potter one shots#harry potter one shot#harry potter fanfiction#slytherin#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini#draco malfoy#pansy parkinson#theodore nott#astoria greengrass#daphne greengrass#slytherin x hufflepuff#slytherin x gryffindor#slytherin x ravenclaw#these tags are all over the place#3am thoughts am i right
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Anyway, people actually said they would like some character analysis posts, so I’m writing one. And it’s going to be about Carth.
Specifically, about why I believe Carth doesn’t really love Revan.
I would like to preface it by saying that I am not trying to criticize anyone for liking the Revanasi ship. In this blog we believe everyone should be able to freely choose their favorite pairings! This is simply an analysis of the character’s behavior and dialogue in-game.
This situation is something in the game that could have easily gotten past me. I was never going to have my Revan romance Carth because the “bearded widower with a long lost son” thing just isn’t for me (Sorry, Carth! You’re still a bro!), and then I decided shipping Revan with Malak made for an interesting story so my pairing preferences were sealed. However, due to how the game is structured, Revan and Carth’s relationship develops in the same way right until the point he confesses - and while it makes sense, it comes with a very specific context.
Carth is a clearly moral character who is trying to help others and do the right thing. He states he became a soldier to protect others; that is in fact his entire concept of being a “soldier”: someone who fights to save people, as opposed to a “warrior” (as seen in one of the NPC banter scenes). On the other hand, his situation caused him a lot of grief - the “heroes” he looked up to turned on the cause, his mentor betrayed him, he didn’t get to his dying wife in time, he lost his son.
Most people would have called it quits at some point during this event sequence or sometime afterwards. Leave the fight to someone else, because they’d have given enough already, lost enough. But Carth didn’t. He’s still a soldier, still trying to save the Republic and everyone. He’s not even that jaded - traumatized, sure, but still a believer that people can be good and deserve help.
This brings us to Point Number One: what Carth really wants is to help Revan redeem herself. This is obvious in his confession scene. Specifically, he says “You don't have to be Revan, you can be so much more. (...) You have this huge destiny waiting for you, and I just fear that if you're alone it could swallow you whole. (...) Will you let me help you?“
And there it is. Carth believes Revan can change because, again, he believes people can be good. And he feels compelled to help because if she’s alone the darkness will take over her again, and he is someone who saves people. He doesn’t want to help her because he loves her; he loves her because he wants to help her.
I also want to call to attention the line “You don’t have to be Revan” as our lead to Point Number Two: Carth doesn’t see Revan for who she is. He constantly reneges the “darkness” inside her, even for a light-aligned Revan, which is understandable, but concerning when it means rejecting an entire side of your supposed loved one. And, most obvious of all, he directly compares her to his late wife twice. Twice. If the first comment might make one assume strong, stubborn women are his type, the second sets off alarm sirens.
So yes, I think Carth is a good friend who is ultimately confused about the nature of his feelings for Revan. Which also relates to Point Number Three: Like most others who meet her, Carth got caught up on his admiration for Revan. I know I make jokes about how any Revan is godmodding on charisma, but my poking fun comes from a place of truth. Throughout the entire game - and even in the sequel! - one can see how Revan impresses every character with her skill, cunning, power, or just her overall attitude. Everyone can’t help but admire the character in some way.
Carth is no exception to this. A lot of his dialogue has him gradually admitting his admiration, and while it can be seen as romantic, it is worth noting that his opinion is not that different from anyone who has spent time around Revan. In context, it reads less as love and more as the general starry-eyed observation of the powerful character facing her epic destiny.
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White Lies
Warnings: smut, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, overuse of the f word, riding, dirty talk, kinda sad ending.
Word Count: 5335
A/N: Sorry my inactiveness this past week, my loves! I’ve just had so much on my plate - hopefully everything will be back to normal this week xx
Also, let me know if my tag list still isn't working for you? I’ve had a few people having issues with it lately.
*** would just like to state for the record I do not condone cheating. Please do not read if this will upset or offend you in any way ***
The empty bottle of wine made Y/N’s body tingle with warmth. Andy’s larger body wasn’t feeling the affects of the alcohol as much, he was a different kind of drunk. His body was more tingly and warm from the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen laying so vulnerably against his side.
Y/N tried to act normal around him, she really had. She desperately attempted to treat tonight like every other night he’d come over to her place. But it was hard to act normal, when the secret of his she’d accidentally uncovered tormented her mind. Y/N knew that tonight was the last time she could ever see Andy.
She first met Andy only a couple of weeks ago when he was assigned to assist a case at the firm she worked at. He’d come in to the reception area looking smart and professional, but his mannerisms were slightly more on the causal side than most lawyer’s she’d liaised with. “Can I help you?” Her voice came out calm, almost soothing to his ears. Andy couldn’t ignore how beautiful she was, or the way his heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. “Yeah, is this where I sign in?” She was immediately attracted to his charm and dopey smile.
“My name’s Andy. M’gunna be working with…” He leaned his palms on her desk with a frown as he tried to wrack his brain, Y/N’s beauty distracting his mind from thinking straight. She watched with a soft smile as he quickly pulled out his phone, checking for the name of the person he was supposed to meet. “William Heartly on the Alberto and Bexley case.”
“Okay, Andy,” Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off of the charming man. Andy tried to ignore the throbbing of his cock as he admired her, just getting hard from the way she said his name. “I’ll let Mr Heartly know you’re here. Please, take a seat.”
A few days of borderline flirty remarks whilst waiting for the lawyer to come and collect Andy later, and Y/N had grown fond of the blue eyed visitor. They had become quite well acquainted with eachother. She adored the way he seemed to be genuinely interested in talking to her. She was attracted to the way he made her laugh, his kind nature. Everything about him made her crave his attention. He was so different to all the other men she’d met, she’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was as if they were just destined to meet, like the stars had aligned.
“Morning Y/N.”
“So where are you from originally?”
“Here, I bought you a coffee.”
“I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
“What do you do when you’re not at work?”
“We should be finished up on the case by tomorrow.”
“I don’t want it to be the last time I see you. Do you wanna come to dinner with me?”
It was the small things he said that had her heart skipping every time he walked through the door, sometimes unscheduled. She wasn’t the kind of girl who has sex with someone she’s just met, but this was different. Andy was everything she’d ever looked for in a guy. She wasn’t going to let herself self sabotage this time, she’d trust that it was supposed to be. So they fucked in the back of his car that night. They exchanged numbers. They texted daily. They hung out, mostly at Y/N’s house. They cooked together. They watched movies. They stayed up late talking about anything and everything. They made love.
Thoughts of their times together flooded through her mind as she laid against his side, her heart sinking as she breathed in his intoxicating scent, one that she would soon be trying to forget. Deep down she’d always known he was too good to be true. But she thought that just this once, maybe she’d find the love of her life. And well, technically, she did.
“This is my favourite part.” Andy chuckled, blissfully unaware of the thoughts that tormented her mind, distracted by the movie on the screen and the peacefulness of being with her. She faked a chuckle, letting her hand rest on his bare stomach under his business shirt. She didn’t want to let him go, to feel the coldness of his absence. She wanted to go back to before that dumb accountant had run her mouth, unknowingly telling Y/N something she never imagined she’d hear.
“Andy.” She mumbled softly, craving all of his attention as she tilted her head to look up at him, noticing how well groomed his beard was. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies as her fingers massaged over his skin, desperate for the intimacy the both relied on. Her mind stilled as she admired him, perfection in human form.
Andy immediately fixed his ocean blue eyes on hers, one of his strong hands sliding down her back and into the waistband of her gym shorts instinctively as he gave her a soft smile.
Yeah?” He breathed out sweetly, leaning down to peck her lips slowly without hesitation. She hummed as she kissed him back, not missing a beat as her hand moved from his stomach up to his jaw, pulling his face harder onto hers.
Y/N felt her pussy throb with need as his muscly arms wrapped around her body. She shook her head, causing her to second guess her confrontational conversation and enjoy the moment instead. “Nothing.” She whispered seductively, opening her mouth for his tongue as he ran it over her bottom lip. She loved how wet Andy could get her from his hand simply squeezing her ass cheek inside her shorts.
Andy groaned into the kiss, letting his other hand dip under the bottom of her baggy top, resting on her soft tummy as he felt his cock throb. “Wanna feel myself in here.” He mumbled euphorically as he trailed his lips across her cheek, his tongue leaving wet marks as he went. Andy loved how she made him feel, not just sexually, although he loved that too. But emotionally, she made him feel whole, she made him feel loved and needed, she completed him.
Goose bumps covered Y/N’s skin as she tilted her neck, granting him more access. His hand started moving again as his lips trailed along the flesh of her neck, pushing further under her top as he palmed over one of her perky tits, squeezing it gently.
“Andy.” She threw her head back breathlessly, helplessly submitting to him as her legs parting instinctively. Andy continued to squeeze her ass and massage her boob, his cock straining against the material of his pants as he heard her moan.
“Need to be inside you, baby.” He kissed at her neck repeatedly, longing for the love only she could give him as he bit down softly on her neck, tugging her nipple between his fingers. She let out a whimper as she felt her wetness dripping down her pussy and onto the thin material of her underwear, begging to feel more of his touch. “I need you.”
Y/N licked her lips, resting her hand on the back of his head as her eyelids fluttered shut, her body relaxing against him. Andy let his hand glide back down her tummy, touching her body delicately before fisting the material of her top in his hand, impatiently pulling it up to expose her bare chest.
His lips left her neck, taking a moment to admire how perfect her body was, how perfect she was, breathing out shakily as he looked up into her lust filled eyes, staring back at him lovingly. He leaned closer to her, dropping his head to her tits as he started sucking on her pebbled nipple with his tongue.
She whimpered out in pleasure, tugging on his hair as her back arched off of the sofa in pleasure, nudging closer to his mouth. “Andy.” She moaned his name shamelessly, edging him on to get what she wanted, his cock inside of her.
He squeezed her other boob in the palm of his hand, letting out a groan as he felt her body wiggling desperately under him. His teeth grazed along the flesh of her breast as she tries to wrap her leg around him, needing something to hump her eager pussy on.
“Andy, please.” She choked out in a whimper, losing control of her body as she forced her eyes open to look at him. Y/N breathed shakily as she pushed her tits out for him, watching him kiss his way to the valley of her breasts, letting his tongue leave sloppy wet marks along her soft skin. “I’m so wet.”
“Tell me what you want.” He muttered mindlessly, too distracted by his desire to kiss every inch of her gorgeous body. His tongue snaked across her chest to attach to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first.
“You.” She moaned weakly, her eyes closing in pleasure as her head spun, her hips bucking desperately as she gripped his hair. “I want you.”
Andy lifted his head, moving his body up to level with hers, their breaths mixing as he stared down at her intensely. “I can give you what you just asked for in so many different ways, baby.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips as he felt himself weakening under her touch. “But if you want what’s going on inside that sweet mind of yours,” He kissed her again, feeling her absentmindedly open her mouth to welcome his tongue. “You’re gunna have to get a little more graphic for me.”
She nodded obediently with a whimper, licking her lips as she watched his, her eyes glistening with desire as her hands smoothed over the burning skin of his stomach. “I want your mouth on my pussy.”
Andy let out a strangled grunt, his jaw clenching as his strong hand squeezed her bare thigh. “You wanna feel my tongue inside that tight little cunt of yours?” He breathed out heavily through his nose as he looked down at her submitting beneath him.
Y/N nodded shyly at the vulgarity of his words, biting her lip as the soft hair of his beard grazed her chin. “Go get on the bed.” Andy instructed as his lips pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Take your shorts and top off.” He continued as he kissed her other cheek. “Then wait for me like a good girl.” He mumbled as he watched her through hooded eyes, his head spinning with desire.
Y/N’s pussy clenched, her crotch nudging against his bulge as she immediately moved to get up, leaving Andy with a final peck on his lips. He watched her obediently make her way across the room, her shirt dropping to the floor before she’d even reached the hallway.
Andy let out a scoff in amusement, smiling admirably as he felt his heart burst with adoration for the girl. He took the moment alone to regain his strength which seemed to dissolve whenever she was begging him.
His cock throbbed when he walked into the bedroom, immediately seeing her tight little pussy on display for him now that her legs were spread. Andy unbuttoned his shirt as he strolled to the end of the bed, keeping his eyes glued on her dripping centre that was begging for him.
“I don’t remember telling you to take off your underwear.” He mumbled cheekily as his hands dropped to unbuckle his belt after running a hand through his tousled hair, pushing it out of his way as he subconsciously licked his lips.
Y/N’s leg lifted to dig her heel into the mattress, her pussy clenching as her eyes dropped to marvel at his tattooed body that she loved so much. She bit her lip in anticipation as she watched his big hands pull the belt, that had tied her up on multiple occasions, out of the loops and into his hand in a smooth motion.
“They were coming off eventually,” She dropped her voice in a sultry tone as she leaned back on her palm, batting her eyelashes as she watched him unbutton his pants in front of her. “Thought I’d save you some time.”
“And what if I wanted to fuck you with them on?” He raised his eyebrow, smirking as he moved his hand down to grip her ankle. He tugged at her feet, forcing her body towards him as her back hit the mattress. She giggled at his dominance, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she looked up at where he stood between her legs. Andy admired her naked form as he let go of her ankle, pushing his pants down before crawling onto the bed, hovering above her. “Have to wait until next time, won’t I?” He chuckled sweetly as he pressed a gentle kiss on her plump lips.
Her heart sank. There wouldn’t be a next time. A slight twinge of anxiety returned to her body as she remembered the secret he’d hidden from her so well. Was any of this real?
“Andy, wait.” She watched him slide his hand up her inner thigh as his lips travelled down her body, stopping inches away from her heat. Her chest heaved as she slightly panicked, feeling his movements come to a sudden stop.
He looked up, eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion as she tugged his hands off of her. Y/N silently rolled herself over, propping herself up on her knees as she pushed her palms into the mattress, her ass and pussy on display for him.
“Fuck,” Andy sighed in desire, his cock painfully straining inside of his boxers at the sight of her as he shifted to lay on his side. “This how you want it?”
“Mmh.” She moaned out with a nod, looking back at him from over her shoulder. Andy’s weight rested on his elbow as he came face to face with her pussy.
“So pretty.” He mumbled in awe, using his spare hand to grip the back of her thigh, spreading her ass cheek a bit more as he leaned in and kissed her pussy lips softly. “So wet.” He added, mumbling against her heat as he let his tongue poke teasingly out of his mouth, kissing her pussy again.
“Fuck.” She whispered shakily, already overwhelmed with pleasure as her head dropped against the mattress, desperately pushing her ass back towards him.
Andy licked a long strip up her slit, his spit mixing with her juices as he felt her jolting with pleasure in front of him, she was so responsive for him. “So sweet.” He mumbled against her pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through her body.
“Oh,” she whimpered erotically, arching her back as her hands gripped tightly against the bedsheets, her nipples rubbing against the mattress as she lost the strength to hold herself up. “Andy.”
Andy let go of her thigh, a growl escaping his lips as his passion took over, forcing his face deep into her pussy, his tongue rubbing against her inner walls. Andy guided his hand down, pushing inside his boxers to pull out his throbbing cock.
He moaned against her, pumping his thick shaft in his hand as he sucked on her clit. Andy’s eyes darkened with desire as he felt her fidget in front of him, rocking her hips against his face as he drank her arousal.
The slapping and sucking sounds of their intimate activity filled the air, a thin layer of sweat escaped her skin as her thighs shook, the pleasure taking over her body.
Andy teased his tip, spreading the leaking precum over his reddened tip before fucking into his hand again. He moaned as his tongue explored her eager pussy, drinking in her scent.
“Andy, I’m gunna cum.” Y/N whined desperately, the feeling on Andy’s beard tickling between her thighs too much for her to take. Her upper body collapsed against the bed as she jolted repeatedly, a bubbling pleasure building up inside of her as she reached a hand toward the pillows for support.
Her words only made his mouth fuck her harder, eager to watch her come undone as he flicked his tongue rapidly up and down her clit. A groan erupted from the back of his throat, his hand pumping his cock faster as a way of settling his desperate need for attention.
The vibration of his voice caused Y/N’s orgasm to hit, suddenly flooding her body with with pleasure as she desperately gripped the pillow her hand. Porn-star moans escaped her mouth as Andy lapped up her juices, his eagerness to feel her walls around him growing as he felt her overstimulated pussy jolting at his touch.
Andy pressed his thumb covered in his pre-cum against her core as he leaned back, admiring her puffy pussy lips through hooded eyes. The sight was almost enough for him to push her down and shove his face back between her thighs. But his cock was throbbing for attention. Y/N was too fucked out to pay much attention to Andy shifting behind her on the bed, still recovering from her orgasm as slid his boxers down his legs and knelt behind her, lining himself up with her soaked entrance before pushing his cock inside of her throbbing pussy.
“Oh, fuck.” Andy moaned loudly, his head dropping back in pleasure as a frown covered his face. His hands gripped her hips, her warm pussy clenching around his cock as he started thrusting in and out of her aching hole.
“Pull out.” Y/N whimpered out quickly, her head turning sideways to look at him over her shoulder as she moved her palm back to push him away by his stomach. His cock felt so good inside of her aching pussy, satisfying the need to feel him, like he was made to fit inside of her.
“No.” Andy growled desperately as he pulled her hips back against him hard, unable to fathom the idea of having to pull his cock out of her warm, dripping cunt.
“Andy,” Y/N hissed in frustration, whining at the feeling of his balls slap against her ass, the enormous amount pleasure coursing through her veins almost made her second guess her request. “I want your cock in my mouth first.”
Andy’s movements stilled as he let out a groan, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as he leaned down to press his chest against her back. His cock angled deeper inside of her, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she arched back, feeling the material of his shirt which hung open on his body. “Well, in that case.” Andy chuckled deviously as he pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips as he regretfully pulled out of her soft pussy.
Andy leaned back up on his knees, not even giving Y/N time to think about the empty feeling washing over her before tugging her backwards by her arm to press her back against his chest. Andy’s hand snaked around to her throat, his fingers digging into her flesh as he kissed her passionate. Y/N smiled as she kissed him back, feeling the desperation on his lips contrasted by his rough touches.
“Lay down for me, okay?” She asked sweetly, knowing that if she tried to command him in any way, he’d fuck her into the mattress just to put her in her place. She pecked his lips softly, feeling his cock nudging desperately between her ass cheeks.
Andy groaned as he pulled himself away from the kiss, her voice sweet enough to be able to get him to do anything. He let go of her body, shuffling to obey her request as he turned his body to lay his head on the pillows.
He watched the way she admired his cock that was standing proudly, glistening with her juices as she crawls toward him. She bit her lip, her soft hand running ticklishly up one of his thighs as her lips kissed along the other.
Andy groaned as her lips inched closer to his throbbing member, his hips bucking slightly in need. Y/N’s mouth watered at the sight of his cock, unable to stop her lips from wrapping around his tip, her tongue flicking ever so teasingly over him.
Andy let out a grunt of frustration, forcing his eyes to stay open as his hand moved down to rest on the back of her head. Y/N could tell he wanted to take control, feeling his cock throbbing against her tongue as she glided it down his shaft and started bobbing her head.
“Fuck, baby.” Andy’s hand tightened on her head, his fingers digging into her scalp as he tugged hard on her hair, little moans escaping his open mouth uncontrollably. “Just like that.”
He breathed out shakily, his eyes fixated on the sight of her between his legs, gagging on his cock as she took his whole length. Y/N let her jaw go slack, allowing him the freedom of controlling her movements as he fucked into her mouth.
Andy’s jaw clenched as he felt his tip hit the back of her throat, sending waves of pleasure through his body. “Oh, fuck.” His face screwed up, in awe of just how good she always made him feel.
The sound of Andy’s heavy breathing has Y/N’s pussy clenching in anticipation of his throbbing cock being back inside of her. She moaned around his length, bobbing her head to assist with the rhythm that his hand was moving it up and down. The drops of saliva that trickled down her mouth didn’t cross her mind as they landed on Andy’s skin.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, breathing through her nose as Andy’s cock filled her throat, her nails digging harshly into the flesh of his thigh.
Andy movements came to a sudden stop, desperately trying to recompose himself as he almost lost control. He kept her lips against his skin as he held her head down, his cock filling her mouth and opening her throat as he tried to stop himself from reaching his climax.
“Fuck.” He moaned loudly, eyes not leaving the sight of her mouth warming his thick cock. Y/N was caught by surprise, trying to control her breathing as she choked, swallowing around him in an attempt to breathe. “Baby I’m gunna cum down that pretty little throat of yours if you don’t stop.”
She whimpered at his words, staying in position as her pussy dripped down her thighs, moving her other hand to rest on Andy’s lower stomach, trailing her fingers delicately over the skin.
Her throat started to involuntarily tighten as Andy watched her keep his cock in her mouth like a pacifier. He licked his lips as his blue eyes locked with hers, finally letting go of her head as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
Y/N took a moment to catch her breath, leaning up on her hands as they smiled knowingly at eachother. Andy watched intensely as she crawled up his body, their skin touching intimately as she sat back on her knees, straddling his waist.
He pulled her into a deep kiss as her hand cupped his beard covered jaw, her head tilting to grant him more access. Y/N rocked her hips down from where she sat above him, feeling his thick cock nudge against her pussy.
Andy moaned into the kiss, his hands sliding from her hips around to massage her ass cheeks. She sucked on his bottom lip desperately, pressing her chest against his she let go of his jaw, tugging the material of his shirt off of his body. She slid her hand down to his cock once he was completely naked beneath her, lining him up with her entrance as she braced herself for the feeling of his cock stretching her out.
“You’re so needy for my cock, baby.” Andy groaned into her ear as he tugged her hand away from his shaft, jolting his hips up to push himself fully inside of her.
“Andy.” Y/N moaned out with a gasp, surprised by his sudden movement as she momentarily dropped her head onto his chest, losing control of her body as her nails dug into his arm.
Andy’s wide chest caught her weak body, guiding her ass back and forth along his length with his big hands. “I’m not gunna last long.” He groaned desperately as his lips parted in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt her pussy tight around him.
“So big.” She whimpered softly, still trying to stretch in order to accommodate to his size. Andy kissed her temple lovingly, his heart sinking at her words as his cock twitching inside of her rubbed up against her walls.
“Thought you would’ve gotten used to me by now.” He whispered cheekily, trying to distract her from the pain. He dropped his head to press a kiss to her lips, smiling as he noticed her chuckle shakily in response, both of them drunk on the feeling of their intimacy.
“Your cock is huge, Andy.” She mumbled sweetly as she kissed him back, starting to move her hips slowly as she adjusted to his thick shaft. “It’d take a lot longer than this for me to get used to it.”
“Shit.” He hissed as Y/N forced herself to bounce a little faster on him, a soft sound of their skin slapping together filled the room. Her stomach clenched as she paced up and down his cock, feeling so full with him inside of her.
One of her hands lifted to rest on his shoulder, the other on the mattress beside his head as she sat up on him, regaining her strength. Little whimpers left her lips as she pleasured herself on Andy’s cock, feeling his strong hands holding her tightly. His fingers left marks on her curvy hips, the new angle gave them both an increased amount of pleasure.
Groans rumbled in Andy’s throat as he clenched his jaw, admiring the gorgeous woman above him. He forced his eyes to stay on her, smitten with the way her back arches towards him, the way her tits bounce with every thrust, the way her face looks flushed and so very satisfied.
“Andy” She moaned his name, her eyes fluttering shut as she slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest, her finger nails digging into his skin.
He was mesmerised by the way her pussy smacked down against his skin with every bounce of her hips, rubbing the length his cock with her tight walls.
“C’mere.” Andy mumbled breathlessly, reaching his hand up to lift her arm from his chest, as he tugged her arm towards his head. He pulled her body down on to him with ease, desperate to have her closer.
Y/N didn’t hesitate to obey to his gentle command, resting her chest flush against his once more as she looked up at him through hooded eyes. His hands slid down to her ass, spreading her cheeks as he took control, thrusting up into her.
She forced her head to stay focused on him, even as the overwhelming pleasure filled her body. Andy instantly smiled admiringly down at her, proud of how well she was taking him. His heart fluttered as he noticed her smiling beck at him, losing theirselves in the love they felt.
He grunted desperately, feeling his cock push deep inside of her with every jolt of his hips. “Just because you’re on top, doesn’t mean you’re in control.” He mumbled through hooded eyes, craving more and more of her attention.
Y/N chuckled at his comment before whimpering as his cock hit her cervix, leaning up to kiss him as she cupped his jaw in an attempt to satisfy the need to bring him closer.
Andy kissed her back, his tongue slipping into her mouth to twirl with hers. He lifted his knees, pressing the heels of his feet into the mattress as he fucked up into her with more leverage.
Y/N moaned as she felt Andy’s cock slide deeper into her, protruding through the bottom of her tummy from inside of her. She moaned into another loving kiss, her clit rubbing against his skin as she felt her orgasm bubbling.
“Want you to cum around my cock.” Andy moaned against her lips, one hand digging into the thick flesh of her thigh as his length twitched inside of her.
“You’re close, Andy.” She whispered back matter-of-factly, noticing the way his cock was twitching desperately inside of her. Andy knew she was right, he could feel his release rapidly building up, his heart swelling at how well she knew him.
He nodded in response, their breaths colliding as Andy’s spare hand held the back of her head, tugging her hair slightly out of desperation.
Andy quickened his pace, feeling her juices running down onto his balls. Moans filled the room as Y/N moved her hips down aggressively, using the last of her strength to sit back up on Andy.
The sudden change of her angle was too much for Andy, sending him spilling his seed inside of her as his hips jolted erratically.
“Fuck.” He moaned as his face screwed up in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing as he emptied his seed into her tight pussy, not letting go of his grip on her body.
Andy didn’t stop slamming up into her, the feeling of her pussy clenching around his length was something he never wanted to stop.
Y/N felt her orgasm wash over her with a loud moan, his cock rutting into her sensitive pussy as her hole filled with his warm cum. Her nails dug into his chest as they both stilled for a moment, trying to make the euphoria of the moment last.
Her overstimulated pussy pulsated around his cock, still deep inside of her as he took hold of her wrist softly, looking up at her in admiration.
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to steady herself with one hand as she felt Andy’s lips kissing her wrist. Her stomach sunk as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat, dread washing away the pleasure.
“Say it.” She whispered breathlessly, her eyes slowly opening as she looked at him innocently through her lashes.
“I love you.” He spoke without hesitation between kisses, his eyes never leaving her face as he admired her beauty.
“No, Andy.” She sighed irritably, lifting her hips up just enough for his cock to slide out of her, emptying herself of his length before sitting back down on him carefully. “Just say it.”
Andy sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he felt his heart sinking inside of his chest. He knew that his truth would catch up with him eventually, he just hoped it would be further in the future. The sadness that covered Y/N’s face had his heart aching at her pain, hating that he’d done that to her. “I’m married.”
She held her breath for a moment too long, feeling her heart break as the words left his lips. “I hate you.” She mumbled, closing her eyes to stop the tears from escaping. She sighed heaving as she laid her chest back on to his, enjoying the last of his presence. How could she have let herself so vulnerable? Why did she ever let her guard down? Why did she ever let him in?
“I know.” Andy sighed heavily, hating himself for hurting her. She hid her saddened face in the dip of his neck, relaxing against him as she inhaled his scent. Andy’s hands slid up her sides to wrap around her back, hugging her tightly.
The haunting silence engulfed the room, an emptiness between them where there had once been an overwhelming sense of fulfilment. Andy knew deep down in his gut that he’d lost her. He knew how much he’d unintentionally hurt her. He knew it was over. But there was nothing he could do, because the truth was, it never even should’ve started.
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Rescheduled Lesson
❦ PART. II
Fandom: Enola Holmes
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x female reader
Word count: 3K
anon said: Can I request a Sherlock x reader where she visited Enola often when Sherlock left on long cases, so they became good friends? And when Enola runs away to find her mom, she goes to stay with the reader, which Sherlock deduces and tries to get her to let him find Enola and talk to her? -&
A/N: this request was amazing and I loved every bit of it!!! I put all my inspiration in this, tried to make the personality of the character good, so I hope you like this piece, love, I did my best!! (also I’m thinking about a part 2? if you guys like it let me know, I would be delighted to write it) (had to repost guys, I'm sorry!!)
also, the tag list for this fandom is open!!!
gif credit: @henrycavilledits
❧ You knew the Holmes family was nothing like the other families that lived in the countryside. The father had died many years before. The two oldest sons had already left home, to live their lives and follow the careers they desired. On that incredibly big house, where once lived a family, there was only a mother and her youngest child left. Perhaps the fact that you yourself was considered a little off by other people, was the fact that made you become friends with them.
You lived completely alone, surrounded by books in a small house. Your life was made of studying, researching and writing texts about science. You loved it, great authors of the matter being your inspiration. You tried to learn their teachings and with luck, wanted others to learn as well. You almost couldn’t believe when one day in the middle of a sunny afternoon, Eudoria Holmes had showed up at your door and invited you to her house, where she asked you to be Enola’s science teacher. She educated her daughter not for society, but for herself, so that she could find her own path when she came to grow up. That instantly made you respect that woman and accept her offer.
Twice a week you would go to the Holmes’s house and spend hours and more hours teaching the girl. Darwin, Copernicus, Newton, Galilei. She was eager to know and you were eager to teach her. She was the first student you had that actually wanted to learn and that was amazing. Made you proud and happy, more than you could say. At the evening, Eudoria would ask you to stay for dinner. You would put lessons aside and talk and laugh together. They were like your family, the one you didn’t had.
You were always excited for the days of teaching Enola to come soon. They were your absolute favorites of the week. In the beginning of the afternoon of one of those days, you had been incredibly surprised by a knock on your front door while you gathered the books you would make the girl read and study. Frowning, because you never had visitors or received letters, you went to attend the door.
And when you opened it, you saw that your visitor was Enola herself.
“Hi, Miss (Y/L/N)” the girl smiled at you, a little forced smile that instantly made your frown grow deeper. She was wearing boy’s clothes, even a hat, and her long brown hair had been hidden inside of it. “I’m afraid today’s lesson will have to be rescheduled”
“Enola, what…” you began, confused. You had seen her dressed in boy’s clothes before around her house, that wasn’t a big deal. She did find them more comfortable, she had told you before. But the fact that she concealed her hair as if she wanted to hide it and the expression on her face, something that you couldn’t quite identify but resembled urgency, was enough for you to get anxious.
“Please, Miss (Y/L/N), can I come in? I promise I’ll explain everything you want to know” she pleaded, eyes locked on yours as she did so. The tone on her voice made you nod and take a step to the side, locking the door once she was already inside. “I had never been here. Your house is really amazing” the girl seemed overwhelmed by all the books and unfinished texts you had around, laying on tables and shelves.
“Thank you” you said, mind still running fast as you tried to understand what was happening. You walked after the girl, that had advanced until she reached the next room of your house, one who only had two couches and a table. “Enola, what is going on?” her face instantly lost the admiration she was having for your belongings. Her eyes went to the floor, and she went silent. That made you sight. “Enola, you promise you would explain. And you know you can trust me”
That seemed to make her come around, because she sighted as you had just did and sat at one of your couches. Or better, she laid down on it, placing her head over a pillow and focusing her eyes on the roof. Her hands were joined over her chest. “I came here because I wanted to hide, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m running away”
Your eyes went wide at that declaration and you sat on the other couch, realizing that would probably be a long conversation. “Enola! Think about your mother! She loves you. Your disappearance will hurt her deeply”
“No, no, I’m not running away from my mother. I’m running away to find her” the girl sat straight on the couch, eyes meeting yours again like they had before at the door. She could see the confusion in your eyes grow by each word she spoke. “My mother went missing a few days ago, Miss (Y/L/N). She didn’t say goodbye or said where she was going. She only left me clues, here and there that I’ll have to use to find her”
Worry got a hold of you, the same worry you had recognized on Enola’s eyes. Eudoria. Where would she have gone? Was she fine? Not knowing you realized, was terrible. As you thought about what Enola had just said, another question got to your mind. “If your mother is missing, who are you running away from, Enola?”
“My brothers. Sherlock and Mycroft. Well, especially Mycroft, because he wants to send me to a finishing school, that prepares young women for society” the clear disgust in her voice would have made you laugh if you weren’t so worried.
“Where will you go to find your mother, Enola? What plans do you have? Do you want me to go with you?” all questions left your mouth in such a rush, that it seemed like you had just spit out the words one after the other.
The young girl smiled kindly and got up, going to sit right next to you on the couch you were on. She grabbed your hands in hers gently and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you for offering to go with me, to support me, Miss (Y/L/N). Is more than my own brothers have done. But this is something I have to do alone, I have to be the one to find her and know why she left. And I think that the less you know, the better it will be”
Oh, that girl. You smiled while you looked at her. Eudoria had raised her to be a force of nature and had achieved that goal, brilliantly. You squeezed her hands back in affection. “When will you leave?”
“At sundown today” she said, so quickly that you realized she had already thought about everything. At least, on that phase of that 'plan' to find her dear mother. “Will walk to the train station, not the closest one but the next, and get on the first train in the morning tomorrow. In this way, I’m quite sure my brothers won’t be able to understand my intentions soon enough as to catch me”
“Very well” you passed your arms around her and hugged her tight, sighting. “Let’s get you some food for your journey, then. If you find Eudoria and she finds out I let you almost starve I’ll get in trouble”
Enola laughed as she hugged you back.
════ •⊰❂⊱• ═══════ •⊰❂⊱• ════
Enola had left at sundown of the previous day, just like she had said she would. Carrying nothing more than money her mother had left her, a bag of food you had given her and her favorite book of yours, Origin of Species, you had watched her walk away into the night alone, as her name backwards spelled.
You had spent the whole night incapable of sleeping, wondering if she was fine and if she hadn’t encountered any dangers as she travelled on foot. You worried so much but all you could do, was hope that she would stay safe and find her mother. Soon.
On the next day, you had spent the morning and the beginning of the afternoon distracted. Tried to complete some of your works, but couldn’t. Your mind would always go back to the gone girl and her well being.
You had frustratedly been trying to read the same page of one of your books for fifteen minutes, without being capable of keeping any attention on it, when for the second time in a long time, you heard knocks at the front door.
You got up instantly, leaving the book forgotten upon the closest table as you rushed to the door, already smiling at the thought at Enola had came around on her idea of going alone and was back to ask you to go with her.
When you opened the door though, you realized that it wasn’t Enola who had knocked. It had been a man. A man you had never seen before.
He was tall, it was the first thing you noticed. The fact that he had no beard, was the second. And then, details of him came rushing into your mind through your eyes. He had short, curly hair, bright eyes and memorable features. He wore a white shirt, a brown vest with small white details in it and a brown suit as well as trousers of the same color. No tie which was insula for men that well dressed.
“May I help you?” you frowned at him, holding the wooden door firmly with one of your hands. To receive the visit of men, had always made you nervous. You lived alone, after all, and the world was becoming a more violent place day by day.
“I hope so” he said, which such confidence on his voice that it actually made you raise your eyebrows at him. His eyes were fixed in you, analyzing your face with much intensity. Far more than you thought it would be appropriate. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. And I suppose you are Miss (Y/L/N), my sister’s science teacher”
You took a moment to watch him again, trying to put into your mind that the man in front of you was the Sherlock Holmes, the detective who was making a name on England, solving the most incredible and difficult cases on his own. After long seconds of silence where you only stared at each other, you cleaned your throat. “I am in fact Enola’s teacher, Mr. Holmes. How did you know?”
“I found her works, studies on great science authors. They all had writings on the borders where she constantly mentioned a desire to please and make a 'Miss (Y/L/N)' proud. It only took me a visit to one of the closest houses to ask who it was and get pointed in your house’s direction” he explained, in an impersonal tone quite fitting to a detective. He saw the incisive tone look you were giving him, filled with suspicion, and smiled slightly as he looked at his feet, before focusing his eyes back on yours. “I came here because Enola ran away from home, Miss (Y/L/N). And I think she would come here to see you if she needed help”
You sighted, looking into his eyes. You remembered Enola’s words, where she had told you Mycroft was the one who wanted to send her to a finishing school, the one who had made her run away. If that had been Mycroft Holmes at your door, you would have denied being her teacher or even knowing the girl, wanting to cut the conversation short. But that was Sherlock Holmes. Enola hadn’t expressed much anger towards him and honestly, he would for sure find out the truth on his own. He was the best detective there was in the nowadays. You tell him, would just spin faster the process and you would be able to send him away sooner.
“Come in, Mr. Holmes” you took a step aside, motioning for him to come in. He did, in slow calculated steps and once he was inside you closed the door, sighting. You expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Not at first. Instead he walked around just like Enola had done, eyes floating through the uncountable books you had, all in a complete mess over the tables, piles and more piles of them . “She was indeed here, your sister”
He turned his head to look at you, a genuine smile on his lips. “I was already certain of that” then he walked towards one of the tables, fingers running through one of works. The paper was a bit kneaded, but he didn’t seem to care. “The works you did with Enola, the amount of things she learned… they were quite impressive”
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to contain your surprise to know you had impressed the most impressive man of all, Sherlock Holmes. You waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t, just kept on walking through the room and inspecting your things with his perceptive eyes. “I don’t know where she is, Mr. Holmes. She left many hours ago”
He placed his hands on the pockets of his trousers, turning completely to you the resemblance of his previous smile on his lips. “And I believe she didn’t tell you what were her plans?”
“No and if she had, I wouldn’t tell you” you said and went to sit on a chair, at the table he had been studying with his eyes previously.
“Mind if I take off my suit?” he asked simply. You just nodded for him to go on, not giving it much thought. He took off his brown suit in gracious movements, then placed it in one of the other empty chairs close by. “May I ask why you wouldn’t tell me my sister’s plans, Miss (Y/L/N), if you knew them?”
“Enola said your brother wants to send her to a finishing school” you replied, watching as one after the other, he folded the sleeves of his white shirt until they got close to his elbow. Unconsciously, you noticed how his muscles could be seen from under his shirt. “To try to turn such a brilliant, incredibly smart young girl into a 'lady society' would be a terrible mistake. She shouldn’t be forced to do it” at the end of that sentence, Sherlock Holmes had grabbed two books in his hands and after reading the tiles, he went to the shelves and started placing them there. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I am organizing your books, Miss (Y/L/N). In alphabetical order, of course. Like I’ve noticed you do after a quick inspection” he smiled at you again, placing those two in place. Then, he went to the table and grabbed a few more. “I personally agree with you. I don’t think Enola should be sent to such a place, but she is my brother’s ward. It is out of my hands” he read the titles, then turned around to return to the shelves. “I suppose you weren’t raised as a lady of society also, for you live by yourself apparently and your academic interests”
“You’re wrong” you said with a little smile taking a hold of your lips, and that made him stop organizing the books and look at you with a frown. She shouldn’t be wrong often. “I was raised to be a lady, until the point where my parents died. After that, I started to live on my own, for I had no more relatives. It gave me a chance to become who I wanted to be, instead of whom I was being carved into”
“You chose your own path” he said with a bigger smile this time and when you nodded in agreement, he returned his look at the shelves. “How did your parents die?”
“They were murdered” you tried to swallow the knot on your throat. Even though they had been controlling parents to the most when regarding your future, they were still your parents, and you loved and missed them. “The police never found out by whom”
“The police can be quite… inefficient” he turned back around with his hands already empty. “I’m really sorry”
“Thank you” you said, squeezing your lips in a thin line as old memories came to surface. Things you hadn’t you thought about in a long, long time. “If there isn’t anything else, may I escort you to the door?”
Your polite way of sending him away made him smile.
He placed the books he had just gathered back on the table, grabbed his suit and accompanied you towards the door, not bothering to dress the piece again. You opened the door and he stepped out, turning to look at you once more. His eyes were curious, interesting. Full of something you couldn’t quite identify, so mysterious as his sister’s.
“If you find Enola, don’t stop her from trying to find your mother” you told him, trying to repress the emotion in your voice. “Not knowing what happened… can be quite disturbing”
“I promise, stop her, is not my intention” he looked down at his feet once again, as if he was thinking for a brief moment, before his eyes went back to yours. “I could try to find out what happened to your parents. Who was their murderer”
“I don’t have much money, Mr. Holmes” you told him, your turn now to look down at your feet.
“I never said you would have to pay” he replied and with that your gaze snapped back up to meet his, and that made him chuckle. You couldn’t deny he looked quite beautiful when doing that. “You were there for my sister through much time and when she needed help, when I wasn’t. That is enough paying for me. Think about it, Miss (Y/L/N). After I find my sister and discover where is my mother, I am willing to take over your case. If you want me to” he nodded his head in your direction in a silent appreciation for your reception in your house and began to turn to walk away, but stopped himself in the middle of such movement. “May I know your first name?”
You smiled softly at that. “It’s (Y/N), Mr. Holmes”
“Please, call me Sherlock”
And after that, he walked away.
#imagine#x reader#fanfic#imagines#enola holmes fanfic#enola holmes imagine#enola holmes#sherlock holmes fanfic#Sherlock x reader#sherlock imagine#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes imagine#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry!sherlock
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You kind of already did 31 but pleaseeeeeeee
these ficlets keep getting longer ffs this is 2k
31. One is a sex worker, the other is a client AU
anakin's had his turn as a sex worker in my writing so it's Obi-Wan this time, paired with Vaderkin and i made it more dark than I thought would happen whoops but. warnings are: probably bordering extremely dubious consent even though no sex happens and this is just the lead up. a brief reference to underage sex work, though absolutely nothing comes of it. and vaderkin being a bit creepy.
There is a saying among the workers at the Establishment: if the imperial palace calls for you, you should hope the person that is displayed next to you is prettier.
Obi-Wan has never bought into prayers of any kind and this saying is only ever said with something akin to a worshipful dread. Still, when Ahsoka drapes a cloak of red around his shoulders and whispers those words to him—“May the others be your betters”—he thinks for a second about the nature of prayer and of hope and the futility of both in this galaxy.
“Don’t worry, little ‘Soka,” he smiles from under the cloak’s hood. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He is, after all, one of the oldest workers here, makes most of his money these days tending bar and running the front desk, called in to serve mostly for virgin customers who want a gentler and more experienced hand to guide them in the art of pleasure. He doesn’t think any of the words could be used to describe the Emperor Vader, can’t see the imposing black-suited man interested in the art of pleasure.
Ahsoka can’t look him in the eye, but she hugs him tightly as he boards the shuttle that will take him to the Palace.
The ride there is quiet. Obi-Wan tries to avoid as many glances from the other people as he gives to them. Most of them are young, human. He seems to be the only male above 40. His chances are good.
Maybe he hadn’t been lying to Ahsoka. Maybe, truly, his name being included on the list had been a mistake
Something inside him hesitates though. He’d been out in the Upper levels a week ago, making his way home after one of his rare appointments with an old client turned friend. A child had fallen into the path of a small parade of speeders. A correctional officer had raised a whip. Obi-Wan had reacted on instinct, catching its lash with his forearm. The child had run off. Obi-Wan had stayed. He’d raised his head just enough, eons later, to see the durasteel outside of the largest speeder pass by his prone form, just enough to see the Imperial crest on its hull. Just for long enough to see a glint of a yellow eye from the window.
Bacta had treated his wounds, but his mind had not allowed him to rest easily, caught up in the memory of that eye--had he imagined the interest? Had he imagined it all?
And so to hear his name called tonight--the first calling since The Incident--had felt like the confirmation of all of his most unfounded fears.
Would tonight be the night he died? He had lived a long life. A rough one. Perhaps it is time.
Still, in the back of his head, a selfish, utterly human part of him whispered, may the others be your betters.
---
Those chosen do, often, come back. Sometimes they do not. Mostly they do. Obi-Wan has never truly decided which of these fates is the worse one. Those who survive don’t say anything for days on end, their eyes blank as they stare forward. Their bruises, if they are there, are easy to heal. But something is always wrong with their minds afterwards. And those who don’t come back...well. It’s hard to say what happens to them, where they go. Far away or down below.
Obi-Wan is forced to his knees in between a moderately aged female Togruta and a fairly young teenager. The boy is shaking. He can’t be more than sixteen.
They’re in the Entrance Hall. Obi-Wan has never been here before, but he supposes it makes sense. There will be one person who ventures further into the Palace. The rest will be dismissed out the doors that just shut. No need to bring the scum further in than they have to.
Distantly, like a funeral drum, Obi-Wan can hear the sound of feet falling, making their way closer. Just a single pair. He wants to look up, to watch the Emperor--because it has to be the Emperor--approach, but there’s a Guard behind him, holding his head down.
The footsteps are close now. There’s only ten of them--sometimes, Obi-Wan has heard that there can be as many as twenty or thirty--so the line is short. Vader paces quietly from the first to the last person, before stopping in the middle. Obi-Wan can just see the black of his boots if he flicks his eyes as far as they can go to the left. The boy next to him lets out a muffled sob. Obi-Wan wishes he could offer the kid some sort of comfort, some sort of reassurance that the Emperor will choose one of the other workers, a body more desirable than either of theirs, but there are no words to describe the guilty relief of a suffering passed onto someone else.
On some sort of invisible signal, the Guard behind Obi-Wan wrenches his head back by the hold he has on both the silken hood and his own hair. It’s far from comfortable, tilted so far back. The message is obvious. Submission is not optional. Respect will be shown through any means necessary.
Obi-Wan tries to keep the hulking form of Vader in his eyesight, even though to see ahead of him he has to close his eyes almost completely because of the angle. It’s impossible to see anything from the chest up, but he can still hear. Loud, mechanical breathing fills the halls. Vader stops at each person for no longer than five seconds before he continues down the line. Obi-Wan holds his breath, waiting for his turn. Does he turn his head as much as he can, to try and accentuate the gray at his temples? Does he lower his eyes?
He doesn’t, in the end, do either. Vader is wearing a mask, completely covering his face. He doesn’t even look human, except for the way he cocks his head slightly as he stares down at Obi-Wan. He feels flayed, just under the single look, but he can’t turn away either. He glowers up at him. Five seconds pass. Vader should be moving on by now. The fact that he hasn’t fills Obi-Wan with the sort of fear he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.
“This one,” Vader says through a voice modulator. Obi-Wan closes his eyes in defeat, thinks of Little Ahsoka back at the Establishment, thinks of what she’ll think if he doesn’t make it home.
But the boy next to him bursts into sobs and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see that Vader’s hand isn’t pointing to him at all, but instead just to his right.
But Vader’s face is still pointed directly at Obi-Wan though, head still cocked. The question is as clear as if he actually spoke the words aloud. What will you do about this?
What will he do? What can he do? It’s the street from a week ago all over. A child is in danger. How can Obi-Wan ever live with himself if he doesn’t at least try to throw himself on the blade?
“No!” he says before he can think it through. The Guard behind him jerks his hair back roughly in punishment, but the monster in front of him runs two gloved fingers down his cheek, the pantomime of a lover’s caress. “Me instead. Choose me.”
“Quiet,” the Guard hisses to him, making him wince with the ferocity of the yank he gives his hair. Obi-Wan pants open-mouthed as he tries to think of an argument, of a single reason why the Emperor should not get what he wants, should settle for a washed up whore instead of a younger model. All he can think of is the moral justifications of it, and he’s not sure Vader would care for that line of reasoning.
“I’m asking,” he blurts out. The fingers pause from where they’ve been absent-mindedly touching his beard. “When has anyone ever asked?”
The Emperor takes a step back and seems to consider Obi-Wan, what he has to offer. He tries to preen, to throw his shoulders back and sit back on his heels to show off his body, but it’s hard when the Guard hasn’t let up on his hair. In fact the grip gets even tighter as the man behind him snorts a common insult.
A second later, the hand and the pressure disappear. Obi-Wan falls forward automatically at his sudden release. He scrambles away instinctively, even if that means closer to Vader. Vader who has his hand raised out in front of him clenching his gloved fist tight. Obi-Wan looks behind him at the guard who had held him. The man is scrabbling at his throat. Obi-Wan knows already it will be a futile effort. With Vader distracted by his execution, he turns to check on the boy. He’s looking down, refusing to make eye contact.
Probably for the better.
The Guard falls to the floor. The other nine Guards don’t move at all. Obi-Wan supposes there’s no room for loyalty in a galaxy like this.
“Come,” Vader says, running a hand through his hair. It’s a surprisingly gentle touch, seeing as that hand just took someone else’s life.
Slowly, Obi-Wan rises to his feet and follows behind him, through the twisting halls of the Imperial Palace. He thinks anyone could get lonely here if they have no one to keep them company. It’s so big. Obi-Wan shares his room with three other people, and he frets if one of them is still gone by the time he falls asleep.
This much space would drive anyone mad for another’s touch.
He blinks at himself, incredulous. Is he actually trying to feel compassion for the Emperor? Is it actually working?
The Emperor flings open a pair of elaborate doors without touching them, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s in the bedchambers of the most powerful man on the planet. And to think, he’s wearing mismatched and terribly darned socks.
He resolves to not ask Vader for permission to do anything with his own body for the entire night. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Vader takes off his cape and his gloves.
“Would you like to know my prices before or after?” He asks as cooly as possible.
“Your price is that it’s you here and not the boy.”
“Would you have wanted the boy?” Obi-Wan can’t hide the disgust in his tone.
“No,” the Emperor says succinctly. “But I did want to know what you would do. If you really were the same man as the one in the street.”
Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. “Why would you want to know that?”
“There’s so little good left in the galaxy. It’s fascinating that so much is concentrated in you.” Vader reaches up to unlatch his mask. A cascade of golden curls falls out.
He huffs. The Emperor of the Galactic Empire thinks there’s not enough good in the galaxy. It’s at the very least ironic. “It’s a greedy galaxy, your Imperial Majesty--”
The Emperor turns around to face him, helmet still held in his hands. Obi-Wan is surprised to learn he’s just a man. An attractive man, certainly, young and almost pretty with a perfect arch to his lips and a roguish scar cutting through a thick eyebrow. If he had been one of Obi-Wan’s workers, he’d have taken him under his wing, tried to protect him from the clients who would have paid extra to rough up that face.
He was saying something. Obi-Wan had meant to say something else. Oh. Right. “Good cannot be bought.”
The man in front of him--was it really Vader?--smiles, but it doesn’t reach his yellow eyes. “No,” he purrs, discarding his helmet and stalking forward. “But you can.”
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Sol et luna — The Sun and the Moon | G.W.
(Soulmate!AU)
pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of food and eating, alcohol, vague mention of sex, insecurity
summary: You head out to the countryside with your friends, renting a cabin by the lake for two weeks, during which you notice a correlation between yours and George’s soulmate tattoos, unsure what to do about it.
word count: 9130
tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @accioweaslcy ; @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts ; @justasmolballofstress ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @calmspencer ; @pandaxnienke ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @4amhotchner ; @weasleysprofessionalhoe ; @lunarlovegoodx ; @henqtic ;
a/n: This took me so much time and effort, I’d appreciate any kind of feedback, thank you!
masterlist | taglist form
—⒈—
You gazed out of the car window, sitting in one of the back passenger’s seats. The journey was pleasant, a nice prologue to the vacation you were about to begin – Ginny, Hermione, Angelina and Alicia, your travel companions sharing snacks and blasting muggle pop songs while singing along.
Natural curiosity made you wonder what the atmosphere was like, in the other car – which Fred, George, Lee, Harry and Ron travelled by. They had been driving behind you for some distance, before passing you by and disappearing in the distance – you supposed Fred had a bit too much fun behind the wheel.
It seemed like you’d be lucky with the weather for most of the two weeks of your stay at the cabin – that day was pleasantly warm with just a bit of refreshing wind, and the Sun was shining beautifully in the bright, blue sky.
The whole area around the place you were supposed to be staying at was just stunning. The cabin was by the lake, surrounded by nature, with just a small village nearby – no noise, no pollution – it was really going to be a great vacation.
When you arrived at your destination, the boys’ car was already vacated, parked in the front, some distance from the cabin.
“Took you long enough!” Lee commented, emerging from the front door after hearing the commotion of your group unloading the car.
“Why such a hurry?” asked Ginny, pulling her last bag out of the trunk and stepping aside to make room for you.
“Yeah, we had a great time..” added Angelina, already carrying her bags inside, and shrugged at him defiantly.
You made it inside with your heavy luggage and did not hesitate to dump it on the floor right after you entered, to have a look around the place. The layout was quite modern – the front door opened into a great open space, which still had a cosy feeling to it. Complete with a lounge area, a dining table to fit all of you, and an open, yet a bit secluded kitchen. Directly opposite the front door, on the far end of the room was a large, glass sliding door, giving you a preview of the back of the house, where you could see a deck, complete with a furniture set. Looking at all the spaces, you couldn’t help but imagine small moments you could have throughout the following fortnight, what sharing a house with your friends would be like.
Most of your friends were downstairs, you heard their bickering in the background as you debated just taking half of your baggage to then come back for the rest, when George approached you, without you noticing.
“Want any help?” he asked, with no tease to his tone, nor any exaggerated kindness – merely, as if giving a helping hand was the simplest thing in the world.
“Uhm…” you stammered, knowing well you did - but also thinking, you could do this on your own just fine.
George, evidently bored of waiting for your reply for more than two seconds, grabbed the bags with a scoff and a small smile.
“Thank you,” you said, genuinely, signalling you had not lost your ability to speak too.
Walking out the back, onto the deck, you could see Fred by the lake. You took a moment, standing by the bannister – listening to the sounds – the very faint sound of water moved by the gentle wind, soft rustle of tree leaves and the birdsongs, undisturbed by anything. You could smell the grass, the trees, the flowers around, as well as the lake water.
You walked down the wooden steps and through the grass field, to the lake, to have a closer look.
Fred was skipping stones, he turned around for a moment when you walked up and smiled, acknowledging your presence – then continued. You watched him closely – there was something satisfying and soothing about skipping rocks, yet you were never able to do that yourself. No matter how many times it was explained to you, you had barely succeeded a couple of times in your life. You’d prefer to avoid sharing that fact about yourself - so for now, you just enjoyed watching Fred do it.
As he threw another rock, it splashed a bit, startling you. You winced a bit at the sudden contact of the cold water against your exposed legs – Fred snickered at you, and you heard George laugh, as he was approaching from behind.
Seeing him once you turned around, you felt the sudden need to explain yourself.
“It’s cold,” you said sheepishly, a bit embarrassed, and followed with a chuckle.
George scoffed, grinning.
“Don’t give us any ideas,” Fred feign-threatened with a mischievous smile, yet you didn’t understand him.
“…or you might end up finding yourself in the water,” George followed, looking you straight in the eye with the same expression. You felt a shiver down your spine.
“You wouldn’t…” you pointed out, wanting to believe that and crossed your arms over your chest. Fred and George knew a boundary. Right?
George shrugged, continuing his act as he walked up to you.
“We’ve got two whole weeks, love,” he said melodically and squeezed you against his side, way tighter than necessary.
When Angelina, Ginny and Harry came back from a grocery run, they gathered the whole house to take a walk around the area together.
Each step you took was as easy as if it was weightless; soaking up the views around you, you breathed in an immense sense of freedom, unobstructed by anything. You had left all worries, responsibilities and expectations at home. The sounds of the surrounding nature paired with the footsteps of the nine people around you were like music to your ears.
“Look, a tree!” Fred gasped in the most obnoxious way, pointing at one, with many other trees around you. Fred Weasley would never admit to be enjoying himself on a simple walk and he evidently found the tranquillity too boring. You could almost feel Angelina’s eye roll to your side before he spoke again.
“Merlin’s beard, a rock!” he exclaimed with another gasp as he looked to the side of the path, keeping his acting level high.
“We get it, Weasley, no need to keep going,” Alicia told him.
“No, I don’t think you do,” he replied, and the conversation continued.
You smiled to yourself, realising that the two weeks with all of your favourite fools has officially started and you couldn’t wait to see what it would bring.
—⒉—
The next day you woke up quite early, while your roommate, Alicia was still out in her bed. Walking downstairs, you saw that you weren’t the first one up in the house.
Hermione was strutting around the kitchen in her pyjama and dressing gown, with her hair up a bit messily, most likely making breakfast for herself. Sitting by the kitchen island over a bowl of cereal, was George Weasley.
“Morning,” you said quite cheerfully and Hermione said it back with a smile, while George just lifted the fingers of one of his hands in a lazy greeting.
The kitchen was neat, all cleaned up after you all had dinner together last night, in a family-like atmosphere. So you fixed a quick breakfast with a mug of warming tea for yourself, and sat down by the island counter too.
Day two was pretty slow, you could tell everyone was just enjoying being able to do nothing, away from home. After lunch, you sat out on the deck with a coffee, following a game of cards played by the boys. It wasn’t a game you knew before, so you did not join them, but enjoyed watching from the sidelines instead, secretly rooting for whoever was doing the best each round and slowly memorising the rules.
Hermione enjoyed reading outside most of the afternoon, unbothered by anything or anyone – one could feel a bit calmer just by looking at her, in her element. Angelina on the other hand, felt inspired to move her usual workout routine out onto the grass, then hung out inside after a shower. Alicia turned back to her old hobby of drawing – Ginny, energetic by nature, seemed to be everywhere at once.
You had volunteered to prepare dinner for everyone that evening, and so did George Weasley. Happy to not have to do everything by yourself, you wondered how much experience he had in the kitchen, it was something you’ve never talked about – maybe he’d inherited Molly’s skills?
Frankly, you’ve never really had much opportunity to hang out with or even talk to George without anyone else around. It only made you more happy and excited – getting to know your friends more personally being added to the list of this vacation’s benefits.
You found George already in the kitchen, examining the contents of the fridge. During a short conversation to decide what you were going to make, you were able to deduce, he did know his way around the kitchen pretty well - just not Molly’s level quite yet.
It seemed that awkward silence did not exist around George Weasley, though it felt odd having such a simple chat with him – just about what’s been going on recently in your lives, or what you were hoping to do throughout the rest of the stay.
As you finished one step of the recipe, you moved over to stand next to George to help him out. You began to peel some veggies for him to chop, when you noticed the tattoo on the front of his left forearm. It caught your eye because it was similar to yours - well visible on your right forearm, resting next to his above the countertop. You found it quite funny at first.
But then you had a closer look.
Your soulmate tattoo. It had appeared on your 18th birthday, and you were pretty lucky it did. According to folktales, one’s soulmate tattoo would appear on midnight of their birthday – but it was never mentioned which one. Some people found out much later in life, some already married and with kids, having married said soulmate or not, some people would die before theirs would etch into their skin.
Yet yours had appeared. Half a full Moon, cut off with a clean line, facing your palm.
His – half a Sun, cut with a clean line, facing up, towards his elbow.
He noticed that you had stopped working. Out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed the two tattoos as well - and once he followed your gaze, he knew, you’d been staring at them.
Would George Weasley be your soulmate? How could he? - it didn’t make any sense. Sure, you got along fine, but you were both so different. What could he possibly see in a girl like you? Not just appearance-wise, but personality. He was wild, funny, charismatic – a breath of fresh air on a hot, sultry day; a rainbow on the plain sky. In comparison to him, you were boring. You’d never even considered George as anything more than a friend, he was just out of your league.
“…Are they… matching?” he asked very slowly.
It was over now. Once he became aware of the similarity, or rather the correlation, the matter became serious, disallowing you to just put it away, until you’d figured out how you feel about it. Did they?
“I- uh… I dunno…” you muttered, struck dumb.
“They have to, they wouldn’t-…” George stammered, thinking way quicker than he was able to speak. “They wouldn’t be that similar if they weren’t supposed to match, would they..?” he noted with some confidence in his voice, only making you all the more nervous.
He took notice of your silence and frown, and waited a few seconds more, hoping to see just a glint of enthusiasm break out on your face - but it didn’t.
“You’re disappointed…” he said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.
“No,” you denied almost immediately, shocked by his statement. You, disappointed with him? How much you’d give for a guy like George to see you, to really see you.
“No, I-… just thought you probably are,” you mumbled quietly, trailing off the sentence, wishing for that conversation to just stop.
George caught on, however, he opened his mouth to speak, to express himself, but he really didn’t know how – your words just puzzled him. Why would you immediately assume he’d be disappointed to have you as his match?
“We should really get on with it, it’s gonna overcook…” you concluded firmly, glancing at the pot on the stove, closing the previous topic.
George didn’t feel in place to drag it further since you clearly didn’t wish to talk. But he was really not pleased with how that conversation had gone, and it left him with this uneasy feeling somewhere in his chest, eating away at him.
—⒊—
It seemed as if your mind was permanently clouded now. You kept shifting between obsessively thinking, about what George being your soulmate would mean, and not believing it was true at all. The Sun and the Moon?
But he was right, the tattoos wouldn’t have that much of a correlation if they weren’t a pair. And as you kept going in circles, each time you came to this conclusion, you felt the nervousness start to take over. How were you supposed to act around him now? Because of that, subconsciously and without thinking, you avoided him – just to not have to wonder about what your interactions should look like.
George gave you space, you were glad he didn’t try to corner you, but during dinners you’d feel his glances on you from time to time - as if he was trying to see through you, to find out what was going through your mind.
It’s been two days, spent awkwardly avoiding George with your eyes every time everyone ate together. Two days of trying to appear busy at all times, so that no one would notice that something’s troubling you, and ask about it.
That night you had trouble falling asleep, your distressed mind wasn’t helping you. The air inside felt stuffy, even with the window open. You gave up, for the time being, kicked off your blanket, put on your slippers. The main room was semi-dark illuminated by strong moonlight coming through the large windows. The Moon was full that night.
Upon opening the glass door you welcomed the slight chill on your skin, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You turned around to close the door behind you when a voice spoke to you.
“Hi,” said George softly, sitting to the side on one of the outside sofas.
Your heart almost stopped when you noticed him - the one person you tried to avoid, and you knew it was too late to run away.
“Hey,” you replied with a defeated smile, wondering if he was aware.
He gestured to the seat next to him, smiling at you, almost shyly.
You were glad the only light came from the Moon in the sky because you could feel yourself shaking slightly, as you walked up to him and took the spot. You sat down and looked ahead, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. You could smell his scent, feel his presence right next to you and it felt like too much to bear, too personal.
“Haven’t seen you around much lately…” he began, vaguely, and you could sense what he was thinking.
“I wasn’t avoiding you..!” you blurted without thinking, only realising afterwards, that it made it sound exactly as if you were.
He hummed shortly, biting his lip with a small frown.
You sighed deeply and said, “I wasn’t avoiding you,” truthfully, making sure to accentuate the last word. Because you weren’t, you were only avoiding your cluelessness which took over you while you were around him.
“Oh,” he replied after a second upon working out what you meant, “…okay,” but did not ask further.
“You know, nothing has to change,” he began, and you turned to him to listen intently.
“I mean, don’t force anything. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he continued, bringing you some comfort, yet simultaneously a bit of confusion – what was the custom when finding out you were soulmates with someone? Did people usually throw themselves at each other immediately, that’s why he was saying that?
“We can take this slow, alright?.. Figuring out this whole- ‘soulmate’ thing.”
You nodded, not sure what to say, crossing your arms over your chest as the slight chill of the night started getting to you. George looked at you for a bit, thinking, then lifted his arm gently, inviting you in.
You ignored the small voice in the back of your head and scootched closer, allowing yourself to be embraced. For the first time, somewhere in the back of your mind, you welcomed the thought of having him as a soulmate.
You stared up at the Moon and it seemed to be staring back. You just couldn’t decide if it was taunting you – pointing out your silly overthinking, or rather comforting you in a motherly way, feeling partially responsible for binding your fate with the one of the man next to you. Why was it the Moon? The Sun – it fit George. Blinding you, only allowing to be admired from afar, yet never to be looked at directly.
“I’d like you to feel comfortable with me… so, whatever’s troubling you, I’m here,” George said with such sincerity, it sent shivers down your back.
“… but no pressure,” he hasted to add with a chuckle.
“Thanks, uhm-…”
You wondered, would he want to confide in you? “...Same to you.”
—⒋—
The following day, you woke up lighter in spirit. Knowing you could give yourself the time you needed, gradually lifted off the pressure of figuring out where you were standing.
After breakfast, when your friends were occupied inside or still sleeping, you decided to go out into the backyard. As always, welcomed by the birdsongs, you allowed your eyes to feast upon the views for a moment.
Without much thought, you walked up to the lake and as if it were mandatory, crouched to dip the very tips of your fingers in the water.
You saw the rocks by the edge of the water and stared at them for a moment, debating. Fully prepared to fail, you picked a flat-looking one and got up. You took a deep breath, then swinging your wrist – threw it, and with a loud ‘plonk’ it went down.
You heard a muffled snicker behind your back and you turned around instantly, to see George there.
“How does this keep happening?!” you exclaimed, as he walked up to you without being able to hold back his grin.
“What do you mean?”
“You keep walking up behind me without me noticing..!” you explained, beginning to laugh and he chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
“I walked out soon after you because I was bored inside, but I couldn’t help myself when I realised you didn’t see me,” George explained, and you accepted it.
“You need to swing it like this,” he instructed with a demonstration.
“I know, that’s what I did,” you replied defensively, certain that all the rocks in the world just had a pact against you, not allowing you to skip them.
“Look,” George said, showing you once again how to do it. His rock skipped so many times, you lost count.
“Now you try and let me see,” he told you, watching you closely.
You felt a bit of pressure, but even though you knew you’d fail again, you tried. And the rock sunk.
“Is that okay if I show you?” he asked and you didn’t understand at first, before he made a move to stand behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other over your hand, but waited until you replied.
“O-okay,” you stammered, so he picked out a rock to hand it to you, then moulded your body into the right posture, to then help you throw the rock. You noticed how tiny your hand was in comparison to his.
To your amazement, it skipped a solid 4 times.
Both his hands were on your shoulders when you turned around and smiled, beaming at him, and he thought he could get used to it.
“Do you want to try on your own?” he asked, but you couldn’t get a word out, because you didn’t.
He nodded, holding back a smirk, then repeated the whole process, and the throw was successful again.
You did try throwing by yourself after that and it was as if the curse has been lifted. Thanks to George you got the swing of it, with each time it seemed easier and easier, and you did better and better.
In a moment of confidence you joked about having a contest – and George, being George, wouldn’t let you back down. But he’d also let his rocks sink right away from time to time on purpose, to then pretend he didn’t know what happened.
“Thank you,” you said sweetly, on your way back towards the entrance. It was amazing how nice it felt to be taught something, by someone, who didn’t make you feel inferior.
“Anytime,” he replied.
“But tell anyone about this…” you changed your tone, to feign seriousness for that threat.
“What’re you gonna do to me, huh?”
A certain sense of companionship was formed between you and George from that moment on, some type of feeling, quite hard to describe.
Your relationship was an odd one now. In any other circumstances, the two of you wouldn’t be close enough to really know you could depend on each other, trust each other with anything. But such a simple thing as a possibility, that you could be destined for each other - by fate, or magic, or whatever it was – changed everything.
You also found yourself paying more attention to him – catching yourself pointing out all the small things you liked about him, in your head. Like his soothing voice, or the facial expressions he’d make.
George sat in a chair next to you during dinner that afternoon. Again – previously, you would’ve seen it as a coincidence, but now you knew it wasn’t. Maybe the fact that you had been the first one to sit down and all the other chairs were empty, contributed.
There were moments where it felt like the two of you were sitting in a separate little room, surrounded by invisible walls.
Nobody else noticed when George accidentally made a piece of salad fly right onto his shirt, while you stifled a chuckle – earning a light shove to your legs underneath the table.
Throughout the whole meal, from time to time you’d hear him mutter jokes or anecdotes about his brothers when they spoke, while more of your stifled chuckles served as a reward for him.
The next day, Friday, it was very warm right from the morning, and it was only getting warmer as the Sun kept rising. By the time everyone was up and breakfasted, the weather was just perfect to enjoy the lake.
Once you walked out the back door in your swimsuit, you felt a bit more self-conscious about being so exposed – more so than usual, not really understanding the reason behind it.
After setting up your towel next to Angelina, you were content to spend some time just lounging there, maybe reading a bit, while the girl went off into the water.
As you followed her with your eyes, your gaze ended up on George, far away from the shore. His hair soaking wet, water dripping down his face with pure happiness written all over it, with his contagious, soul-lifting smile.
You couldn’t help your eyes wandering down a bit – you’ve had a few opportunities to see George shirtless before, you were perfectly aware of how fit he was. Why was he making such an impression on you now, then?
He turned his head all of a sudden, making you freeze as he caught your eye. He sent a cheeky wink in your direction, with a grin, and you quickly dropped your head.
Ugh, why have you done that? It was simply the most awkward thing you could do. But what should you have done? Smile? Wink back? Why did this man have to be so forward, making you flustered?
When you looked back up, he was occupied by something else, once again.
The next day, a few of your other friends and some people invited by the boys were to come by for a party that evening. There were a few more of them than you had expected, most you haven’t even seen before.
The party wasn’t concentrated in one part of the house, there were people all over – you spent the majority of the evening out on the deck with your closest friends and a light drink in hand.
Music was blasting from the inside, but you enjoyed your time away from the main crowd. Your housemates were scattered all over, you saw most of them at least for brief moments – the deck was where everyone headed to cool down.
Once it was dark and the chill started setting in, you came back inside. Seeing George with a group of people – who you assumed were his friends – felt odd. For a second, a thought crossed your mind, that you should be spending this time with him. Everything indicated that you were his soulmates, so you should be bonding, should you not? Why was he in the presence of some other girls, then?
But you shook that off – it was irrational. George was his own person who could have his own friends. Hell, you couldn’t even be sure if he was single..!
You stopped your brain from going down that path too, grabbing something to drink, and approached some of your other mates.
For the rest of the night, however, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. It was natural, he looked so good. How could you not have noticed he was that handsome, throughout all those years? And the outfit he had on didn’t help in keeping your eyes away, either.
What you didn’t notice, though, was that his gaze landed on you, from time to time, too. Not once at the same time as you, not once catching your eye, no matter how badly he wanted to. But you just seemed totally uninterested in him.
—⒌—
The next morning, you left your room in your PJs. You passed by Ginny, sitting in the lounge room with a newspaper, lazily skimming the articles. Going into the kitchen, you noticed George having breakfast there, with some girl sitting next to him, leaning into his personal space a bit.
You tensed a bit, feeling hot all of a sudden. Did she spend the night with him, then? Why else would she be there right now? Most people have left right after the party.
“Morning,” George greeted you with a small smile. You almost smiled back genuinely, but then the girl greeted you as well. She was very pretty.
“Hi,” you replied, forcing a polite smile, before you turned your back to them, to prepare your breakfast.
The girl continued her sweet talk, trying to keep up the conversation by asking about his shop. She flirted without any shyness, not caring that they weren’t alone in the room. You envied her in a way, you could never bring that kind of confidence out of yourself.
George didn’t seem interested, though. You supposed she wasn’t his friend, after all, but someone else’s and just taken a fancy in him. But the way she talked did not strike with much intelligence.
You dragged out making your food, not wanting to sit down with them, making the situation feel even more awkward. Luckily, once George finished eating, they both went away somewhere. And you didn’t want to think about her all throughout your breakfast, but it was very hard not to.
“Too bad I didn’t wait with having my breakfast,” George said sliding into the seat next to you, startling you a bit.
“Why?” you asked, with a slight tone of confusion.
“So that I could have it with you,” he replied cheerfully.
“Bimbo not entertaining enough?” you said, regretting it instantly.
“Ooof,” you practically heard his shit-eating grin, not daring to look at him as you bit your tongue.
“Aww, are you jealous?” he asked merrily, leaning on the counter, trying to get you to look at him.
“No, I have no reason to be.”
“If you say so,” he almost sang, teasingly.
“How did you sleep?” you tried desperately to change the topic. It was only afterwards that you realised you could’ve made it even more awkward if he had slept with that girl.
“Alright. Can’t sleep for too long after having a bit to drink, though. How about you?”
“Yeah, alright too,” you replied, and had no more ideas as to what to say.
Once again surprising you by doing things not at all out of the ordinary, George invited you to have some tea with him outside.
You set your mug of tea down on the table out on the deck, but you stood there for a bit, with your arms crossed on your chest.
“What is it?” George asked, having already sat down on the sofa.
“It’s a bit colder than I thought, with the wind. I think I’m gonna run up quickly and get something more to wear.”
“There’s my jumper laying somewhere in the lounge, you can take it if you want,” he offered, surprising you a bit. But you did want to.
“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning to the door.
“You can put it on in front of the bimbo,” he said after you with a sly smile, making you shake your head, holding back a grin.
But you did, feeling a bit guilty about this childish behaviour. Just a bit, though – it was satisfying.
It gave you a bit of a boost in confidence – and since you were wearing his jumper already, why shouldn’t you sit down right next to him? That’s when you realised – you felt comfortable around George, inside and out.
None of it was awkward – the silence, all the things you did or didn’t say; your morning hair or your oily face you haven’t washed yet after waking up.
“It’s been a week now,” George conversed.
Since you noticed your tattoos? That’s a bit of an exaggeration…
“Since we’ve come here,” he added, noticing your puzzled expression. “Have you enjoyed your stay so far?”
“It’s gone by quickly,” you replied, frankly, frowning a bit. You didn’t know where all the days have gone.
“Oh, we’ve still got a week,” he tried comforting you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Yeah, we do…” you replied, deep in thought, leaning more into his side.
The fact that a full week has gone by was worrying you, that the second one would pass just as quickly. What could you do, to use it to its fullest?
You did not have to wait long for an opportunity to present itself.
Overall, since that conversation on the deck on Sunday morning, George and you would hang out more. Just like the previous day, late in the evening, already in your PJs, you sat with him at the dining table playing various Wizarding games.
You were starting to feel tiredness get to you, everyone else in the house had already gone to their rooms for the night, and your laughs were often followed by yawns you tried hard to suppress.
“Let’s go for a walk,” George suggested out of the blue once you finished a game.
“What?” you questioned, wondering if he was just joking.
“I don’t wanna go to sleep yet, the night’s warm… let’s go for a walk.”
You studied his face for a moment, but he appeared absolutely serious, looking at you back with a small smile. You glanced outside through the great sliding doors, as if to check if it was really dark, despite knowing the time, then at your attire.
“Go get changed, I’ll wait here,” he convinced you.
Once you were out of his sight you ran up to your room as quick and quiet as possible, then changed, careful not to wake your roommate.
You took the path leading out from the cabin to the forest. You had to admit it was exhilarating. George’s spontaneity awoke something in you, the way he just made up his mind in a second and stuck to it. You’d have never think of taking a nightly stroll through the middle of nowhere, you’d be terrified of doing this alone. But the fact that he was walking next to you, and walking so casually, with his hands in his pockets, made all of that feel just as normal as anything else.
The walk woke you up, the comfortable silence broken from time to time by either one of you.
“Are we going somewhere in particular?” you asked, swaying your hands inside the pockets of your unzipped hoodie.
“Nah, not really,” George replied indifferently, shrugging.
“But- you’ll remember the way back, right?.. I haven’t been paying attention to where we’re going at all,” you said frankly, as you stepped off the path, walking straight through the forest now
George laughed at this, he found it cute, how you followed him into the forest without any care.
“What were you paying attention to, then..?” he asked teasingly, giving you a meaningful smile.
“Nope, not getting dragged into- AAH!!” you screamed, scared by a bird suddenly moving around in leaves on the ground. Instinctively you jumped back and half-hid behind George, grabbing onto his arm. He tried his best to hold in a laugh, as you were coming down from the shock.
“You okay?” he asked, reaching out his other arm to you.
You hugged him tightly, hiding your face in his chest.
“Now I’m just annoyed I got so startled over some stupid leaves,” you complained after a small groan. You allowed yourself to stay in his arms for a bit longer, feeling those negative emotions leave you as if nothing bad could happen to you there.
“That’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he comforted you.
As you pulled away, you made a move to hold onto his arm but he took your hand instead, holding onto it firmly.
“Look,” he said softly after you walked a bit further, pointing with his finger, where between the trees you could see water.
In the opening there was a small lake – it had a mysterious feel about it, seemed long unvisited, the boardwalk a bit old, yet sturdy as ever.
You sat down at the end of it together, above the trees was a perfect view of the sky above the valley, sky littered with stars.
“I should make it a point to stargaze more often,” you admitted, in awe of their beauty.
George watched you, face illuminated by the moonlight.
“I could remind you from time to time,” he offered.
You dropped your gaze, deep in thought once more. All of that wouldn’t stop once you left the cabin – George would still be in your life, out there, in the real world.
“Mhm… you could,” you agreed, dropping your head to the side, leaning it on his shoulder.
—⒍—
“Soulmates?” asked Alicia in a tone of surprise.
“… the two of you?” added Ron doubtfully.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” George snapped at his younger brother.
You and George talked the same morning about how it was probably the best time to just tell your friends everything. You were getting more suspicious looks from them, whenever you’d hang out late with George, whenever the two of you would have tea out on the deck together, or when George would make some kind of teasing remark to make you laugh. The looks kept getting bolder too, though none of your mates dared to suggest there was something going on between you. That’s how you went to share the revelation with them during dinner one evening, showing them your tattoos too.
“Maybe just that you have nothing in common..?” Ginny suggested boldly, clearly unpleased with the idea for a reason unknown to you. You glanced at the rest of the table quickly – no one else spoke up, but their faces appeared to say that they agreed with Ginny.
“That’s not true…” you said, getting a bit more emotional than you would’ve wanted, more emotional, than you would’ve expected.
It made you angry, though you couldn’t understand why. You got along with George just fine, so how dare they think you have nothing in common?! What right did they have to have an opinion on whether or not the two of you were meant to be?
“If you say so…” Hermione said softly with a small smile, then frowned at Ginny, silently reprimanding her.
Meanwhile, George was looking at you, judging your reaction – as if checking whether you meant what you said, if you weren’t about to agree with Ginny with a hearty laugh, having all that’s happened yet between you go to waste. Unknowingly, you glanced at him too – you locked eyes for a moment and you exchanged nervous smiles through the ripple between you.
And the rest of the dinner went on in silence.
Surprisingly, no animosity was left afterwards – you still felt a bit watched while around George, but now for a different reason. He, however, did not seem to care one bit.
George floated in the water peacefully, making all appearances that he’s simply relaxing, as most of the cabin’s inhabitants were doing at that moment.
But he was wracking his brain, glancing at you every once in a while – he told himself it was boredom, and getting your attention would be the best way to relieve it. It was like some force, drilling inside him constantly, the inability to leave you be when he saw you lying on your towel in a bathing suit. So he was thinking, thinking of a way to poke the ants' nest that was you.
You did not expect a thing – all of a sudden George ran up to you and scooped you in his arms. The feeling could be pleasant, were you not worried about what he had in his mind.
You yelped in surprise. “What’re you doing..?!” you asked, more as a formality, not expecting to receive an actual answer.
“I promised you something when we arrived here,” he replied with mischief written all over him.
“No, George..!” you pleaded, hanging onto the back of his neck as he ran in the direction of the lake and onto the boardwalk.
“Yes, George..!” he exclaimed, before jumping off, into the water.
Once you surfaced, he was already above the water, along with his shit-eating grin.
“Idiot..! What if I drowned?!” you shouted, trying to keep serious, but it was hard to keep yourself from laughing.
“Come on, I wouldn’t have let you,” he reassured you, making your heart thump for some reason.
He flashed you another dazzling smile, before swimming off on his back.
“I’m not swimming after you!” you called, before heading out of the lake.
Slight goosebumps appeared on your skin once you were out of the water, but you were not cold. Getting a drink of water, you heard splashing behind your back – signalling someone was coming out of the water.
A pair of footsteps was definitely approaching you, until you felt George’s big hand on your waist, making your skin tingle, as he stood next to you.
“You’re not really upset, are you?” he asked with a small smile, just to make sure, as you took another sip.
“No,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the bottle you were closing now.
Then, suddenly, he leaned down and kissed you on the cheek.
“Good,” he concluded, before walking off again.
You looked at his back, dumbfounded. He just left you there, puzzled, and weirdly lightheaded.
—⒎—
You looked around the room – the room in which you’ve made a bit of your own space, even though you’ve not spent all that much time in there, throughout all of your stay. The inside was brightly lit up by the sunlight pouring in through the open windows, the light wind swaying the curtains, but you didn’t feel like staying there.
Outside the room, there was nobody, you knew your housemates were somewhere else, in one of the rooms.
The downstairs was peaceful, all the windows along with the back sliding doors open, inviting nature in and calling you to go outside. Going down the steps, you judged it must’ve been late afternoon on a sunny day – the kind of sunlight that does not suffocate with heat but allows you to enjoy the outside and somehow makes everything look more beautiful.
Then you noticed George there, standing by the door – he turned around to face you, smiling right away, making your heart swell. You wanted to run up to him, drown in his arms.
He told you there was no time to lose, you should go outside and enjoy the time you have left, so you gave him your hand and allowed yourself to be pulled outside, through the deck and onto the plain grass by the lake.
You regretted not having spent more of your time admiring those views around – the mountains, the trees and various other plants. Everything was blossoming, despite it being the middle of summer – flowers all around you, on the trees and shrubs, flowers in the grass George was now pulling you onto.
You sat side by side on the grass, holding hands still, and his hand in yours felt like nothing else. The warmth of it – entirely non-physical – was so great, so extraordinary, and it seemed to radiate all throughout your body to your very heart.
And your heart, it felt as if it was about to stop and as if this was the only way it could function now, looking at him. His smile, his happiness felt like the sole fuel that could power your being and in a moment, you knew there was nothing you wouldn’t do, to make that man happy.
He looked at you adoringly, how you wished you’d have at least a fraction of the size in his eyes as he has in yours.
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. – you repeated, though the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.
But he’d heard them – shifted closer to you and placing his hands on your waist, rendered you hopeless. With great difficulty, it seemed, you placed yours on his shoulders – and it felt unlike any other similar action, that simple touch made you feel so connected. How you wished to have more, as his lips were coming closer and closer, excruciatingly slow.
Almost there.
“Y/N..” you heard a female voice from behind the same moment as you closed your eyes, but you didn’t pay attention, you were too close now, you had to kiss him.
“Y/N, wake up,” the voice repeated, and everything was gone – the sunshine, the grass, George too.
You groaned in frustration, rolling onto your stomach and hiding your face in your pillow.
“What,” you grumbled against the material.
Alicia chuckled, “It’s kinda late, sleepyhead,” she replied, before stepping out of the room.
To say you were confused was an understatement. Frankly, you were annoyed, you just couldn’t be sure at what exactly.
Was it at yourself? At your brain, for making you dream that dream? – Why would you dream about George this way, why would you feel about him that way in a dream, it didn’t make any sense – and it frustrated you, even making you embarrassed a bit. How were you supposed to look him in the eye now?
Or was your annoyance the result of the dream ending? Because it felt so wonderful? Because that short, single dream you didn’t even get to experience a kiss in, felt better than any romance you’ve ever had in real life?
Only downstairs, Fred and George were, to avoid boredom, teasing their little brother in a childish game, tossing his wand lazily between themselves. Ron, at first even tried to get it back, but he was losing motivation, thinking they would have to give it back eventually.
“Hey,” you greeted everyone quietly, walking down the steps, headed to the kitchen.
“Aaay, look who’s up!” exclaimed Fred.
“Sleeping beauty,” added George, making your cheeks heat up suddenly.
Ron seized his chance, snatching his wand back, to both twins’ dissatisfaction.
It was pretty late, you’ve noticed, glancing at the wall clock – everyone else was already up.
The girls were having coffee at the table. Joining them with your breakfast, you’ve noticed they were chatting about how none of them was ready to leave the vacation to go back to their daily life at home.
“It’s brilliant here,” Ginny admitted with a bit of a pout. “If we could just stay here, life would be great, I mean, look,” she pointed at you with a chuckle, and you showed her your tongue teasingly.
“Had such a good sleep?” she asked.
“Just great,” you replied with a snort.
Once another slow day was starting for you, you took a bit of time for yourself. After everything that’s been happening those last few days, you needed to let yourself think.
Going over and over your thoughts, as the sun travelled along the sky, you finally allowed yourself to come to conclusions. It was all intense, feeling as if long months have been condensed into a few short days. As if the most important moment got concluded in a single sentence. So what would happen if you’d missed a bit?
At first, George felt a shift. As if something changed in your pace, and now you were always a step ahead of him. Always slipping away.
Until it seemed like a whole earthquake, when he started feeling as if he was a stranger to you. Fully deprived of you.
It was on Friday afternoon, when Fred came up to him outside, wanting to discuss some business matters. Even interaction with Fred seemed unsatisfying to George at that moment, when it felt like a piece of him was missing.
He was humming and nodding in response, tracing fingers over his tattoo absentmindedly.
“Getting the silent treatment, are you?” Fred quipped with a raised brow, giving up his attempts at a serious conversation.
“Huh?” George was pulled out of his thoughts. He scoffed, “I guess.”
“And what did you do, dear brother of mine?” Fred leaned back in his seat, expecting an amusing confession.
Instead, George frowned a bit sadly, “I… I don’t know,” he admitted.
“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’,” Fred repeated, “have you tried asking?” he asked dully.
“No.”
“Why?” he questioned, confused by his brother’s behaviour.
“I don’t… We’re not…” George shook his head. “Do I have any right to? She’s allowed to do what she wants,” he sighed, fiddling with his hands a bit frustratedly.
“Soo, what do you have to lose, huh?” Fred asked simply.
George thought for a moment. Reluctantly, he agreed with Fred, admitting to himself that not having asked you sooner was probably stupid of him.
The very same day, before dinner, he tapped you on the shoulder gently.
“Can we talk? After dinner, outside?” he asked quietly, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. He didn’t fail to notice how you avoided his gaze, hesitating to answer.
“Okay,” you finally replied, getting into your seat, disappearing inside your bubble hastily.
It was hard for you to focus on your meal and your appetite was barely there. You pretended to follow everyone’s conversation, sipping from your glass from time to time with a friendly smile.
Your heart was thumping wildly, as you kept glancing at your friends’ plates – judging the time left before the dinner would be considered over.
—⒏—
The Sun was setting, lighting up the sky with pinks and oranges. You could almost look at it – half of it hidden below the line of the horizon, only half visible. It was soothing.
George walked up to the edge and leaned his elbows on the bannister, looking out at the nature all around.
“Did something happen?” he asked, getting the question out rather quickly.
“No,” you answered, feeling deep down that it was a lie, as you walked up to him.
“Are you okay?” he continued, looking at you this time, almost frustrated.
“Yes,” you lied again, trying to sound persuasive.
He sighed quietly, turning away from you again.
“You… you’ve been avoiding me again, haven’t you..?” he said, with hurt in his voice.
You felt so selfish at that point. You were thinking about yourself all this time, seeing George as the one who always initiated things, who always strikes up conversations. You didn’t take any time to consider how your distancing yourself would make him feel.
“You’re right, I’m sorry…”
“Why? Have I done something?” he questioned again, with his heart-wrenching sincerity.
“No..!” you hasted to let him know. He didn’t interrupt again but just stood there, leaning on the wooden bannister, hoping to get an explanation that would soothe his heart.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve been great, this whole time,” you began opening your heart to him.
“I’ve noticed myself starting to fall for you. That’s when my doubts started coming back to me.”
George’s facial expression was unreadable, showing his pleasure upon hearing about your feelings for him, along with worry about those doubts you’ve been having.
“It’s just that… I still don’t know if we should be so sure, about us being soulmates? I’d love for it to be you, I really do, but what if it’s not?” you paused, allowing that sickly cold feeling to sink in again.
“What if we started going out, maybe we could even be happy - but what if 2 years, 5 or 10 years from now, you find your other half of the Sun? What then?!”
“Who cares about stupid Sun?! What if it’s the Moon I want? It’s the Moon that always draws me in. It’s the Moon’s beauty I’m always admiring. It keeps on changing, and each yet each of its phases is just as mesmerising as the other,” he recited, full of emotion, having your eyes well up with tears.
“I care about the Sun. It’s always there, bringing me warmth, comfort, happiness… It’s got better and worse days, sometimes being dimmed by the clouds, but I’m the happiest-“ you paused, having to take a deep breath to keep your tears from falling.
“-when it’s shining bright. And my world would be forever dark without it.”
George turned his head away and looked up into the sky, trying to keep himself together. As the Sun set fully, it magnified the silence around you, despite birds, crickets and cicadas in the distance. A single tear fell down your cheek and you wiped it with your hand quickly.
“Well, you know there’s a way to find out,” George stated. It confused you, however, there wasn’t a way you knew of – there was barely any information regarding soulmates, circling around, wizard to wizard. Perhaps if you went to the library and browsed some books on that type of magic, you’d find out more. And if he knew of a way, why has he only mentioning it now?
“You don’t…” he noted. “I thought you did, that’s why I-…”
“Well, what is it?” you asked impatiently, as everything indicated he was telling the truth.
George got visibly flustered, something unusual for him. He had trouble getting himself to look you in the eye, even.
“The tattoos are supposed to… tingle, or something like that, when… the soulmates kiss for the first time.”
“Oh,” you managed to get out, hearing a faint ringing in your ears.
Why did he have to say that? – you thought to yourself. Some first kisses happened suddenly, in the moment, some with a bit of nervousness, after chasing around each other for a while – but this felt pressuring – you wished he would’ve just kissed you first.
But then the real fear struck you – with the real possibility of finding out whether or not you were soulmates, you were scared of it. You were scared of it not being George, as he stood, now in front of you, waiting for anything else from you.
“Say something,” he pleaded in a whisper.
“I’m scared. I want it to be you,” you replied, barely audibly, not daring to look him in the eye.
That’s when he bent down a bit, cupping your face in his hands to look into your eyes. You surrendered under his gentle gaze, so dear to your heart. He saw that, reading you like an open book, and leaned in quickly to connect your lips. You jerked away, however, after they barely touched, having felt an incomparable to anything else kind of sensation, right where the other half of your Moon’s circle should be.
“What was that?!” George asked between laughs, party out of relief, partly just seeing you jump around as a giggling mess.
You jumped at him, throwing yourself at his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. He squeezed you back just as tight, picking you up to twirl you around, eliciting more heartfelt laughs of pure joy out of you, reaching right into the depths of his heart. You both knew now.
“So am I gonna get a real one now?” he asked with hope in his voice.
“Mhm,” you hummed happily in reply.
Looking into his eyes once you’d finally allowed yourself to open your heart to him, you felt almost dizzy. You couldn’t help the grin on your face, seeing how he looked at you, placing both his hands on your waist, getting used to having you within his reach, to feeling you underneath his fingertips. His lips were slightly chapped but ever so sweet and loving. He wished this kiss could last forever, but your soaring heart said otherwise. You felt a smile creeping onto your face until you could not fight it anymore, beginning to giggle.
George shook his head gently with a charming smile. Glancing at your forearm, however, he could not believe his eyes.
There, instead of a lonely half a Moon, was his part of the Sun attached to it, creating a whole. He lifted his own arm, to reveal the exact same image.
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