#WHAT DO YOU MEAN NONE OF HIS EPILOGUES ARE COMING OUT IN AUGUST

[kasumisnowdrop]

UUGGHHH EKUNI’S POV WAS SO GOOD

HE JUST LIKES THE MC SO MUCHH

HES SO CUTEE

kasumi digging for details is so funny bye

i felt so bad for him when mc was avoiding him 😭

also his family… oh my god i’m having violent thoughts

and i am sooo looking forward to seeing what tf is going on with mc’s background

CAN VOLTAGE PLEASE RELEASE HIS EPILOGUES

kaede x therapy 💞

#ugh i love him so much #mc needs to get with the mf program #WHAT DO YOU MEAN NONE OF HIS EPILOGUES ARE COMING OUT IN AUGUST #JAILLL #kaede ekuni #romance md #romance md: always on call #love 365 #love365 #voltage inc

[lucky-katebishop]

What I Read in September 2021

It's been a stagnant month, but I did find a couple favorites :) as usual, composed of mainly Harry Potter fics but there's a spare Modern Family fic in there and a couple crossovers. I think I read about 27-28 fics :)

Harry Potter

Family Relations by OxfordOctopus

Plot: In which Harry realizes that not even he's exempt from how interconnected magical families are.

Characters: Harry, Pavarti, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Desi Potter Family; Desi Harry; Hogwarts third year; red-haired Harry Potter

*complete*

Talking to Thestrals by OxfordOctopus

Plot: In a world where Voldemort well and truly died in ‘81, where there are no Horcruxes, where Harry is sequestered off by a man in a flying motorcycle when he's six, and where the only legacy the most feared Dark Lord left behind was his politics and a heavily scarred child, nobody quite realizes that Harry isn’t okay. Nobody but the leathery creatures at the lake, and the girl who looks at them.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry & Luna

Warnings: anxiety, dissociation, suicidal thoughts, bullying, implied/referenced child abuse, child neglect

Tags: Sirius Black Criticism; Hogwarts second year; Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban; AU - No Voldemort;

My Notes: Now, I love Sirius just as much as the next girl, but this is such an interesting look at a man raising a kid when he wasn’t ready and the consequences of that (I relate a tad too strongly)

*complete*

Slytherin Politics by OxfordOctopus

Plot: Abused children don't respond well to power plays.

Characters: Harry, Draco, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Tags: violence, broken bones, Slytherin Harry, bullying

My Notes: Harry is so truly terrifying in this fic, it’s wonderful

*complete*

rotten on the inside by cassiopeia721

Plot: Harry's boggart isn't Voldemort, or even a dementor. It's something much worse.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Hermione & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Hogwarts third year; boggarts; angst; protective Hermione; Hermione is a Good Friend

*complete*

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by IamShadow21

Plot: Questions asked, questions unasked, secrets told and secrets kept, trust, devotion, empathy and love. Ron and Harry's friendship, from that first day on the Hogwarts Express, right through until after the Battle. Can be read as a friendship fic, or a ship fic. It's open to interpretation.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, Arthur

Relationships: Harry/Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: canon compliant; canon-typical violence; friendship, hurt/comfort; protective Ron; Protective Fred; Protective George; gen or pre-slash; platonic cuddling; POV Ron

My Notes: now this could be read as pre-slash, as a relationship, or just good friends, but I am so completely head over heels in love with the idea of Harry and Ron! Best friends to lovers!

*complete*

Best Served Cold by enchantedsleeper

Plot: “C’mon, Freddie,” George says suddenly, sotto voce. “Sooner the four of us get out of here, the better.” It hadn’t been the right moment, as they were exploring the Dursleys’ comfortable house in the dead of night, to plant a well-timed trick or a trap and risk blowing the whole operation – and getting Harry into even more trouble with his sadistic relatives. Better just to get Harry out and away from that place. But two years later, Fred and George got their chance for revenge.

Characters: Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Arthur

Relationships: Harry & Ron; Harry & George & Fred

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Book 4; Harry is an honorary Weasley

*complete*

east, west, home’s best by taizi

Plot: You can never have too many brothers, Ron decides, for the very first time in his life. And there's always room in the Burrow for another Weasley, even if only an honorary one.

Characters: Harry, George, Ron, Fred

Relationships: Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Chamber of Secrets; families of choice

*complete*

live for today, hope for tomorrow by Vennat

Plot: Professors are Hogwarts are a little more observant and a little less likely to allow their students to be in harms way. OR A canon rewrite starting from book two, featuring friendship, angst, and a severe lack of oblivious characters.

Characters: Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Fred, George, Snape, Draco

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron; Harry & George & Fred; Harry & Ginny; Luna & The Golden Trio; Harry & Snape; Draco & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; PTSD; panic attacks; blood; vomit; injury; food issues; depression

Tags: friendship; Harry has a saving people thing; mentor Snape; BAMF Harry; Smart Harry; canon rewrite; angst; Dumbledore bashing; Book 2; Harry is a Good Friend; Harry is Bad at Feelings

*complete* [part of a series; hasn’t been updated since 2020]

The Closest Distance Between Two People by StartledStarfish

Plot: In Harry's third year, no dementors boarded the Hogwarts Express in search of Sirius Black. Remus Lupin, the new defense professor, slept the whole way there. He did not wake to cast a patronus. Harry never passed out. Never heard his mother scream. Never saw the flash of green light. Never felt the unspeakable cold drain all the happiness out of him. So when Harry’s turn came to face the boggart, his greatest fear could not be a dementor. Harry blinked and looked up into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Remus, Dumbledore, Vernon, McGonagall

Relationships: Harry & Ron; Harry & Remus

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; childhood trauma, child neglect

Tags: boggarts, dementors, Dursley Family Bashing; Dumbledore Bashing; healing; angst with a happy ending; Ron makes sure nobody’s sad for long; friendship; laughter

*complete*

Grey Space by noaacat *favorite*

Plot: In 1991, Harry Potter begins his time at Stonewall High, unaware that he is anything more than a boy prone to freakish accidents. When he turns fourteen, he will receive a letter that will change his life. He will learn he is Harry Potter, and be invited into a world where belonging is his birthright. Until then, he stumbles on, two steps forward and one step back, out of the cupboard and into the life he was never meant to have.

Characters: Harry, The Dursleys, Dumbledore, lots of muggle OCs

Relationships: none

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced homophobia; child abuse; child neglect

Tags: AU: Hogwarts Starts Late

My Notes: This one! Is so good! The worldbuilding alone is amazing and the author really did make me immersed in the small sleepy town of Little Whinging. Please, if you read any fic on this list, read this one! It’s so good! Instant favorite!

*complete*

Iron by belleslettres

Plot: Draco also has a penchant for shirts with fiddly collars and cuffs and will not even entertain the notion of going anywhere looking like anything less than perfection. But Harry, who will do almost anything for Draco, refuses to iron them. “My aunt used to make me do all the ironing,” Harry says. “I hated it.”

Characters: Harry, Draco

Relationships: Draco/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: fluff and angst; post-war; Epilogue what Epilogue; fluff; domestic fluff

*complete*

All That Stands in its Path by thebiwholived

Plot: "An old soul, people might say, and Molly has never quite been sure what such a person would look like, until the day her family meets the Boy Who Lived in a dingy train station on the way to school." Molly Weasley's perspective on the summer Harry Potter comes to stay.

Characters: Harry, Molly, Weasley Family

Relationships: Harry & Molly Weasley

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: canon compliant; book 2

*complete*

To See More Clearly by JellyShark

Plot: Harry didn't make it out of Privet Drive after blowing up Aunt Marge. He is alone, locked away, forgotten. To make things worse, his magic is changing, morphing into something unknown and terrifying. Harry returns to Hogwarts a changed boy, unable to hide the effects of his time with the Dursleys. His Third Year dawns, bringing with it a man who feels like home, a Hufflepuff Prefect, and a dog who reminds Harry of a time when he was loved.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Ron, Snape, Sirius, Hermione, Luna, Cedric, Neville, McGonagall

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; pre Cedric/Harry; Remus & Harry; Hermione & Ron & Harry; Cedric & Harry; Sirius & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Harry Needs a Hug; Harry is an Empath; Smart Harry; Magically Powerful Harry; Mentor Remus; flawed but well-meaning Dumbledore; book 3; book 4; Snape gets worse before he gets better; angst; hurt/comfort

*incomplete* [last updated August 2021]

Holidays by diogxnes

Plot: While his housemates discuss the upcoming holidays, Harry cannot help but think of how he never experienced a real Christmas with the Dursleys. Ron notices.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan

Relationships: Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: book 1; missing scene; canon compliant; emotional hurt/comfort; hurt/comfort; Ron Weasley is a Good Friend

*complete*

Closing In by silver_fish

Plot: Harry supposes he’ll never know how they learned about the cupboard under the stairs. He also supposes he’ll never know how they managed to make him so afraid of it, all these years later.

Characters: Harry, Hermione, Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, claustrophobia, implied/referenced torture, codependency, trauma, panic attacks, PTSD, therapy

Tags: post-war; hurt/comfort; touch-starved; guilt; Harry centric; false memories

My Notes: This one made me emotionally exhausted but it’s written super well

*complete*

Adjustments by Velvet_Riptide

Plot: With the Second Wizarding War over, Sirius is more than excited to put everything behind him and raise Harry as his own. However, he and Remus begin to notice odd and troubling behaviors from Harry. Without answers from the source, Sirius turns to Harry's previous guardians--Molly and Arthur Weasley--and learns Harry is still making adjustments from his time with the Dursley's.

Characters: Harry, Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; Hermione/Ron; Remus & Harry; Sirius & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; childhood trauma; PTSD

Tags: hurt/comfort; coparenting; Harry lived in the Burrow for several years with the Weasleys before moving to 12 Grimmauld Place;

*complete*

Two Things by TheDivineComedian

Plot: Harry is only four years old and the Dursleys are already mean.

Characters: Harry, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, imaginary Lily, imaginary James

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

*complete*

How to be happy by TheDivineComedian

Plot: The Patronus charm requires a happy memory. Harry Potter doesn't have many, and the Dementors get Sirius, after all. But the story is far from over.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Sirius, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Harry & Sirius; Harry & Remus; Remus & Sirius

Warnings: major character death; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: creepy; heartwarming; dementors; Hogwarts third year

My Notes: this one is a fucking doozy good lord (the tags say heartwarming but w h e r e)

*complete*

Knowledge is a Rose by Magi_Silverwolf

Plot: When Harry discovered that he had a name, he clung to that information and all that it entailed. After learning more information about his past, nothing and everything changed.

Characters: Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; physical abuse; verbal abuse; mental abuse

Tags: emotional hurt; identity issues

*complete*

No Love for the Wicked by VigilanteVampire4311

Plot: Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived. The Golden Boy. The Chosen One. But it turns out when you run head first into an unknown magical artifact and end up in a void, none of that matters. Now he's in a different time with familiar strangers who just can't seem to understand the new transfer student, Harrison Miller. With a Defense teacher he can't let his guard down for a second around, the Marauders hounding the 'mysterious' new Slytherin, and his housemates who cannot fathom a muggleborn being among them, Harry has to wonder whether fate hates him or if he is really a trouble-making freak like the Dursleys always said.

Characters: Harry, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Snape, Tom Riddle, Pomfrey

Relationships: Harry & James; Harry & Lily; Sirius & Harry; Remus & Harry; Regulus & Harry; Harry & Tom Riddle; Pomfrey & Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence; implied/referenced child abuse; possessive behavior; depression; non-consensual touching

Tags: The Veil; Slytherin Harry; Marauders are kinda assholes; Tom Riddle is not Voldemort yet; Severus is so done; alternate universe; angst; hurt/comfort; bullying; time travel; Marauders Era

My Notes: so far with 7 chapters in, we haven’t yet gotten to Harry interacting with anyone from the past but it’s still written really well

*incomplete* [last updated September 2021]

The snake in the daffodils by SpicyReyes *favorite*

Plot: Harry follows Sirius through the Veil of Death, and stumbles out on the other side of the Mirror of Erised, under a strange spell and stranded in an unfamiliar Hogwarts.

Characters: Harry, Remus, Regulus, Harry, Ron, James, Lily, Sirius

Relationships: Regulus/James; Sirius/Remus; Draco/Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence; discussions of suicide; discussions of self-harm; suicidal ideation; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: universe jumping; Hogwarts fifth year; misunderstandings; miscommunication; basically everyone thinks harry wants to die but he is actually just hella confused

My Notes: so, so good! And if you like this one I recommend The Devil’s White Knight which is really similar in concept

*incomplete* [last updated 2020]

been waiting a lifetime (to be with you) by justprompts

Plot: The next time he woke, Potter was shaking him awake. Just, just not the right one. He had hazel eyes for one, and class. This was not Harry Potter. This was - Well, he had just woken up and who accepts the delightfully altering time-related facts of life right as they wake up?

Characters: Harry, Dumbledore; Peter Pettigrew; Prewett Twins; Marlene McKinnon; Sirius; Remus; Lily; James; Draco; Alice & Frank Longbottom; Regulus; Draco

Relationships: Draco/Harry; James/Lily; Sirius/Remus; Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadows; Alice/Frank Longbottom; Regulus & Sirius; Regulus & Draco

Tags: time travel fix-it; Marauders Era; Horcrux hunting; everyone lives/nobody dies; master of death Harry; light-hearted; POV multiple; Harry doesn’t need to be dark/evil to be master of death; irregular and slow updates; mutual pining

*incomplete* [last updated May 2021]

The Gospel Truth by twentysevensummers

Plot: When Harry arrives at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with a black eye, he has more trouble than expected keeping the truth from Sirius.

Characters: Harry, Sirius, Remus

Relationships: Sirius & Harry

Warnings: referenced/implied child abuse; child neglect

Tags: book 5; hurt/comfort; angst; Harry needs a hug; good godparent Sirius Black; number 12 grimmauld place

*complete*

o children, lift up your voice by orphan_account

Plot: "i don't know if they could've put a flap in the door of the cupboard, now that i think about it," harry laughs nervously. "dunno if it would've fit onto it. since it's smaller than the bedroom door." hermione and ron's heads both shoot up. "what?" ron asks. "excuse me?" hermione says.

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Hermione & Harry & Ron

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: friendship; slight canon divergence; character study; second war with Voldemort; physical affection; lots of hugs

My Notes: this one is so good and if you can get past the fact that the author doesn’t capitalize anything, you’re good to go (although it was difficult to get past that at first for myself)

*complete*

Muggle Management by LadyWinterlight, NerdyKat

Plot: What happens if Hermione notices signs of abuse in Harry during first year? The Wizarding World may not have laws against it, but the Muggle World certainly does...

Characters: Harry, Hermione, Mrs Granger, Mr. Granger

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: family

*complete*

Harry Potter & Other Fandoms

Masked Men and Where to Find Them by tinyrose65

Fandoms: Harry Potter & Daredevil & MCU

Plot: Harry Potter moved to Hell's Kitchen because she wanted a fresh start: time away from the spotlight, where she could focus on being the best Healer she could be. Trust the unconscious man in her dumpster to go and complicate things.

Characters: Harry, Matt Murdock

Relationships: Harry/Matt; past Harry/Draco

Warnings: past domestic abuse; implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: female!Harry

My Notes: this is the first in a series and the second one is also incomplete but they’re both very good and the second one has Jessica Jones!

*incomplete* [last updated 2016]

Magic and Masks by Akoia

Fandoms: Harry Potter & DC Comics

Plot: Harry Potter is anything but normal, thank you very much, he just didn't hold such nonsense as that. Follow him on his adventures through the Wizarding world and muggle world as he struggles to understand who he is, and fight the destiny that's been chosen for him.

Characters: Harry; Dick Grayson; Jason Todd; Bruce Wayne; Alfred Pennyworth; the Dursleys

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; canon typical violence

Tags: fluff and angst

My Notes: this is a series with six parts!

*incomplete* [last updated 2020]

Modern Family

Breaking & Entering: (The Start Of) A Love Story by dollsome

Plot: "Oh my God," Mitchell says, "this is insane." It is, for the record. It is actually ... insane.

Characters: Mitchell, Cameron

Relationships: Mitchell Pritchett/Cameron Tucker

Warnings: none

Tags: none

*completed*

#harry potter #hogwarts #harry james potter #fanfic recs #my posts #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendations #fic recs #the marauders #modern family #the golden trio #drarry #wolfstar #dc comics #batman #daredevil #marvel #mcu #my recs

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Epilogue

a/n: It is done! I hope you’ve enjoyed my version of Ron and Hermione take on Australia. Enjoy this fluffy piece of fluffness! Another big thanks goes out to @be11atrixthestrange for being my beta for the second half of this story! <3

AO3 || FFN

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

Epilogue: Wagering Bets

Ron and Hermione had just apparated from the Ministry to outside the Burrow’s wards.  They’d gotten up incredibly early on Wednesday morning to return home Wednesday evening. Hermione thought that might be better to help them adjust to the time difference. 

“Think Mum’ll have dinner out still?” Ron asked her.

“Probably. It is half six, after all. I’m not sure I can eat dinner, though. The time difference has me all out of sorts,” Hermione stated as they walked down the lane toward the house.

“Says the witch who thought taking the first portkey at three in the morning would help us sleep better tonight,” Ron chuckled. “Maybe it’ll make it easier to adjust if we eat the right meal.”

“Perhaps,” Hermione agreed. “Who do you think will be most excited to see us? Your Mum or Harry?”

“Mum, no doubt,” Ron said confidently.

Hermione laughed. “I’d wager on Harry,” she countered.

Ron reached out to open the door and they were welcomed to the sight of the family eating dinner at the table. No one looked surprised to see Ron and Hermione walk through the door, but everyone was excited that they had returned. Mrs. Weasley had rushed over to them, and after she hugged Hermione, she began smothering her son. Ron noticed that the whole family was there, as his mum ushered them over to the table and began filling their plates.

They were peppered with questions about Australia and the trip, and the pair took turns answering between bites of Mrs. Weasley’s delicious cooking. The food in Australia was good, but nothing beat a home cooked meal at the Burrow in Ron’s eyes. Everyone was floored that they happened to walk right into Hermione’s dad while out on a stroll, and that things had gone smoothly in reconnecting. 

Hermione had explained that her parents were planning to return in August, and Ron asked Bill and his father if they’d be willing to help check on Hermione’s house and prepare it for her parent’s return. Both quickly agreed and were in the process of planning when Ginny interrupted. She had a look of impatience about her and Ron had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“Why didn’t you answer my question?” she asked as she peered at him inquisitively.

“What question?” Ron was feigning innocence as Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Mate, she knows I wrote it, so I wouldn’t try and avoid it,” Harry muttered.

The rest of the table quieted down now, and Ginny had a look of mirth on her face. “Fine, I’ll ask it again. Have you or have you not gotten things sorted?” 

Knowing this was coming, Ron had thought up the perfect remark to set his sister in her place, while avoiding the subject until he and Hermione were ready to tell everyone about their relationship. “Why do you want to know so badly, anyways? Have you wagered a bet or something?” Ron retorted.

He expected his family to laugh at his response. It was absurd, wasn’t it? Yet, as he looked around the table, everyone was staring silently, waiting for an answer. It was only when Ron caught the tiniest of smirks from George that he realized that they actually had placed bets.

“Bloody hell, tell me you didn’t..” Ron groaned. Hermione’s cheeks were pink from what Ron assumed was embarrassment.

“So, are you going to keep us waiting or not ickle Ronniekins?” George asked.

“That depends on what the bets are,” Ron shot back.

“Ah, but that’s none of your concern. You see, you think you’re doing a good job of hiding it, but the fact that your ears and face aren’t that red from embarrassment tells more than you realize,” George explained.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Ron said in an annoyed voice.

“It means you two are clearly together now since you’re not sputtering nonsense in an attempt to avoid it,” George said triumphantly.

He did want to tell his family, but not with George taking the mickey out of him for it. Ron figured he should be happy, since it meant he and Hermione wouldn’t have to make some big, uncomfortable announcement. Plus, George was acting more like himself, which was also a good thing, but he was still miffed by the whole ordeal.

“That’s rubbish,” Ron said. “You’re just trying to win whatever you bet on.” He was trying to call George out, but again it backfired when Percy spoke up.

“So, the charm bracelet on Hermione’s arm is simply a souvenir, then?”

Ron’s head whipped around and saw that Hermione’s elbow was propped up on the table from where she was just resting her head in her hand. It wasn’t that Ron was going to deny it as Hermione looked sheepishly up at him. Her eyes were trying to express an apology, but he didn’t quite believe it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d planned it that way all along, which was brilliant, really. It was their way of telling his family without really telling them, and the fact that Hermione had even thought of it was brilliant.

Before Ron could muster a reply, or even a reaction, Ginny instinctively reached across the table and grabbed Hermione’s hand. She was examining each of the charms, and as if his younger sister wasn’t already obnoxious enough, she started listing off the tiny figures for the rest of the table. 

“A book, how fitting,” she smirked. “Oh, and this looks like your patronuses, an otter and a terrier, very nice. A seashell?” Ginny said, looking up at the two of them. She was so focused on Ron and Hermione that she didn’t notice the shared glance between Bill and Fleur, who knew exactly what it meant. 

“And what’s this last one? Well, well, well, if it isn’t a heart! And it’s engraved with something...are those roses? Who knew my brother could be so romantic!” Ginny said as she let go of Hermione’s arm and sat back down, a triumphant look etched on her face.

Hermione looked at Ron again. There was no embarrassment in her eyes, only pride. She was proud to wear his bracelet, proud to have him as her boyfriend. Suddenly, the opinions of his family didn’t seem to matter anymore. He had the girl of his dreams and he wasn’t about to waste another moment pretending they weren’t together. Without bothering to care that they were still at the dinner table, Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione full on the mouth in front of everyone.

The gesture was met with cheers and wolf whistles, and all bets seemed to have been forgotten in the present moment. He vaguely heard people’s comments of ‘it’s about time,’ or ‘finally!’ Ron was pretty sure he also heard his mother say, “Oh, I always knew those two were meant for each other.” 

When things calmed down a bit, Mrs. Weasley stood up from the table and said, “I think this calls for a celebratory pudding!”

“Mrs. Weasley, I hardly think that’s necessary,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, Mum, it’s too late to prepare anything spe-'' Ron was cut off when his Mum brought a magnificent looking cake over to the table and set it down in front of them. “Why does this say ‘Congratulations Ron and Hermione’ on it?” he asked. The two of them were completely stunned.

“It- it could have been for our success in finding my parents? Or- or your offer for the Aurors?” Hermione said weakly.

“Oh, don’t be silly, you two! We all knew this was a long time coming,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“But how did you-” Ron asked.

“Mrs. Granger, of course! She told me you two had finally figured things out. We agreed we’d always keep the other informed if any developments were made. Honestly, we’ve been waiting since the Yule Ball, so it really is about time,” she continued, embarrassing them both now.

Everyone at the table burst out in laughter, and Ron found that he and Hermione had joined with them. When the spotlight was finally off of the two of them, Ron leaned over to his girlfriend. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Should we be worried about our mums plotting things now?”

He felt Hermione smile. “Perhaps, but I think it’s a small price to pay,” she said as she leaned into him.

Ron couldn’t have been happier. He was home, with all the people he loved. Hermione’s parents were coming home, and they both had plans in place for the future. The future. 

Less than two months ago, the future was so unsure. If you asked Ron then, he would have said he didn’t expect to make it through the war, and many close to him hadn’t. But now he had a future, with the woman he loved right there with him. Anything was possible, and he was determined to make the most of it, with the ones he loved right there by his side.

#ROMIONE #hp australia #ron x hermione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger

[mistymazzello]

Cruel Summer | part ix

high school joe mazzello x reader

summary-they used to be best friends, but now that y/n has a boyfriend (that everyone hates), joe and y/n can’t seem to come to terms with their feelings, but it’s no secret to anyone how they truly feel.

warnings-none:-)

word count-1.9k

a/n-i’m so sorry this took so long to get out, but this is the final part. thank you so much for all of the support you have all shown me, it means so much more than you think. there will be an epilogue.

based on cruel summer by taylor swift

You were on movie number three, the sun coming through the windows in Joe’s room and illuminating it in a golden haze. Countless movies had been watched on Joe’s bedroom TV over the past week after Joe had hurt his shoulder, the doctor leaving him on bed rest. Joe had dozed off about five minutes into this one, his head resting on your stomach as you tried not to laugh too hard at The Breakfast Club, not wanting to wake him up. 

There was a light knock at the door, followed by Joe’s mom opening the door to stand in the doorway.

“How’s he doing?” Joe’s mom asked softly.

“He’s okay. He fell asleep like an hour ago and I’m not gonna wake him up until they get here.” You replied.

She nodded. “That’s probably best.”

You were quiet for a second as you looked down at Joe’s face that was squished against your stomach, our heart twisting with pity. “I just feel so bad.”

She hummed in agreement as she walked over and sat at the edge of the bed. “He’ll be okay. He’s got you after all. I think that’s all he cares about.”

You let out a small laugh and she smiled at you. “I’m serious! You’re all he ever talks about, I don’t think he even cares that he can’t play baseball again if he has you!”

She patted your leg and stood up. “What time are they getting here?” She asked.

A quick glance over to the alarm clock told you that they were actually a few minutes late. “Any minute now.” You said.

She nodded and walked over to the door. “Thank you for staying with him everyday. It helps him, it really does.”

“Of course.” You smiled. She walked out and shut the door softly behind her, her footsteps disappearing down the hallway.

You desperately wanted to let him sleep, you knew this week had been hell for him and he hardly slept at night. Between the excruciating pain, the nauseous feeling he got from his pain medication, and the nagging thought that he’d never be able to play baseball again, Joe felt as if he’d never sleep at night again.

Car doors slammed in the distance, followed by laughter. Just then, your phone buzzed on your chest, causing Joe to shift around with a small grunt.

Ben-Hey we’re here, can u let us in

You sighed, your hand moving to comb through Joe’s hair. “Hey Joey.” You said softly, scratching his head. His eyes fluttered open to look at you.

“Your friends are here to see you.” You said softly.

“Who?” He asked, his voice gravelly.

“Can I go get them?”

He nodded and lifted his face off of your stomach. You stood up from the bed as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. You passed Joe’s parents on your way to the front door, letting them know that they were here. Laughter came from the front door as you opened it to your best friends, your heart warming at the sight of their smiles and arms filled with presents for Joe.

“Sorry we’re late.” Gwilym spoke up as they all stepped in the door. “Lucy wasn’t ready when we got to her house.”

“Hey that’s not fair-” Lucy started.

“It’s fine.” You laughed. “He’s upstairs. He’ll be happy to see you guys. I think he’s getting a little tired of being around me all of the time.”

Gwilym started up the steps, Rami following him. “Yeah, because that’s a thing that could happen.” He said.

You suddenly realized that you and Ben we’re the only two left at the bottom of the steps, awkwardly staring at each other, both of you secretly cringing. You let the eye contact linger for a few seconds, Ben desperately clinging onto every second you gave him.

After a few seconds to long of prolonged eye contact, you cleared your throat and started up the steps. He watched behind you as you climbed the steps, scratching the back of his neck and then quickly following you.

You opened Joe’s bedroom door to him sitting on his bed, his chin set in his hand as he watched the TV. His eyes lit up when he saw everyone and he smiled. “Hey guys.” He said, his hair still a mess and his voice still gravely.

“Hi.” Gwilym said.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked.

“We brought you Chick-Fil-A.” Ben smiled.

Everyone piled into the bed, Rami groaning about the movie choice. The boys ended up eating more than half of the candy they brought Joe, but he didn’t mind. His small smile never left his face throughout the rest of the night, your arms wrapped around his waist and his best friends pushing each other around as they all tried to fit onto the big, but not big enough bed.

You began crying as the screen faded to black, not being able to help it at the sentiment of the movie. A few sniffs were heard from around the bed, mostly from Gwilym, as you wrapped your arms tighter around Joe. He set his cheek on top of your head as Ben flipped the bedside lamp on, his eyes briefly meeting yours, then watching as you adjusted your grip on Joe.

He knew this would take some getting used to, but god, it sucked.

“Oh my god, what’s going on there?” Joe laughed as he looked at Rami and Lucy. Their limbs were tangled as Lucy slept soundly on Rami’s chest.

Rami’s head snapped in Joe’s direction and he laughed awkwardly. “She just fell asleep like this…”

“Right.” Ben said.

You giggled and Gwilym shot you an amused, knowing look. Of course he knew.

“But you like her.” Joe said.

“Yeah I know, but it’s not… well we aren’t…” Rami stuttered, his eyes locking with yours and then switching to Gwilyms.

“Why don’t you just tell them? Lucy wants you to.” Gwilym shrugged. 

“Gwilym!” You gasped. 

“Woah what the fuck, is this a real thing?” Ben laughed, sitting up to turn to you. 

Lucy grumbled something and shifted on Rami’s chest. Her eyes blinked open and everyone looked away as her eyes scanned over the group. 

“What?” She mumbled. 

You gestured to Rami and she looked up and quickly realized her position. “Oh! Oh, um, sorry.” She giggled as she untangled from Rami and climbed off of him.

An awkward silence hung in the air and you couldn’t help but start laughing. Joe hit your arm, even though he was laughing too. Lucy put her blushed face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. Lighthearted, bubbly laughter filled the air while Rami and Lucy looked at each other, accepting their defeat. Even though the two of them were embarrassed, it was still funny.

The laughter quieted down and everyone sat in contentment. You decided to let Rami pick the next movie since he was so picky even though he settled on a pretty basic comedy. The rest of the snacks were eaten, and more tears were shed, even over the cheesy ending. Everyone sat in the dark, nobody bothering to turn the lamp on. It was beginning to get late, but not a single one of you cared.

Joe sat up. “Can you guys stay for a little longer?”

The following weeks were similar to that night. Everyone stopped in at least once a week, keeping a much needed smile on Joe’s face. They brought him gifts, even when he told them he didn’t want them anymore. They listened to him cry and didn’t complain when he would get tired or irritable from his pain medication.

But, in Joe’s opinion, the most important thing to him, was that you stayed with him the whole time. You talked to him about nearly everything, stayed up with him, cried with him. You were there the day that he got his letter from NYU stating they were dropping his baseball scholarship due to his injury. That was probably the worst day. 

There were good days, too, days where he was allowed to start doing things again. He was able to enjoy his last summer in his hometown with all of his friends. A summer spent taking late night drives, going to parties, and loving you.

Luckily, Ben was able to come to terms with everything and enjoy his summer, too. He would sometimes still find himself looking at you, longing, or letting his hugs linger. There wasn’t much he could do about it except take things as they were.

As the summer came to a close, Joe got his cast off and didn’t have to wear a sling anymore, something he was very happy about. As the days got shorter and the acceptance of growth and the fact that high school doesn’t last forever came along, Joe only found himself loving you more.

On a warm night in early August, you sat in your room. Scrolling through Amazon trying to find a stupid comforter for your college dorm was getting boring, so you rolled off of your bed and crossed over to your closet to continue packing your things. You were leaving in 3 days. As you walked across your room, the air conditioning almost making you shiver, you passed a shelf on your wall. It was a shelf you had passed a million times before, never phased by it, but for some reason, it caught your eye this time. You stopped in your tracks and stared at it, realization setting in.

It was a shelf filled with pictures. You looked at the first picture, a picture of you on Gwilym’s back, the two of you sticking your tongues out as Rami was giving the camera two peace signs in the background. The second picture was one from Junior year. It was you and Lucy in the school hallway on pajama day. You were hugging, your faces squished together in your matching onesies. It was cheesy but it made you smile, memories of those hallways slowly filling your brain. The third was one of you, Gwilym, and Ben at Prom. None of you wanted to go, maybe that’s the reason that the three of you were flipping off the camera. The last one was of you and Joe just this past month. It was taken at a party, his arms around your shoulders from behind as you both smiled goofily at the camera.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying as you looked at the pictures, almost in a trance of memories. You cried with a smile on your face, showing nothing but pure love. You loved Joe more than anything in the entire world, and you loved your friends as much as anyone ever has. You were snapped out of it by something hitting your window.

‘There’s no way.’ You thought.

You walked across your room and pushed your window open, warm air spilling into the room. 

And there he was. A coy smile on his face and his red hair reflecting the moon.

“Hi.” He said.

You couldn’t help but smile, your head practically spinning for the love that you had for the boy standing in your yard. 

“Are you crying?” He asked.

You quickly realized that your face was tear stained and you wiped the remaining tears away. “No. Well, I was, but I’m not now. I wasn’t sad or anything.” You tried to explain.

“Oh.” He said. “Well… Do you wanna go on a walk?”

You looked behind you at your clock. It was almost 1am. You turned back around and looked at him again, his hands behind his back as he stared up at you with a gentle smile.

“Let me go get my shoes.” You smiled.

-

taglist- @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @im-an-adult-ish @iamthebeth @cobaincreates @almightygwil @timmvrphy @free-pool-trash @inlovewithaxlrose @findingillyria

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #borhap boys x reader #joe mazzello headcanon #borhap boys imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #cruel summer #fan fiction #borhap cast

[soybeantree]

pairing: do kyungsoo x (reader) genre/warning: fluff, hogwarts!au word count: 1.2k-ish description: pre-epilogue era. professor!au a/n: may installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is in the service’ series. check out the other’s here.

[Thursday, August 12th, 2010; 12:00 p.m.]

Standing in the abandoned train station which welcomes the Hogwarts Express each year, you tap your wand to your robes, changing them from blue to black to green to magenta and back to blue again. The Headmistress has given you the great honor of welcoming and acting as guide to this year’s itinerant professor: Do Kyungsoo, Master of Ancient Oriental Arts.  Professor Do was due to arrive at precisely 11:45 which was fifteen minutes ago. 

As you contemplate a daring combination of gold and mauve, you hear the telltale pop of apparition. A flick of your wand straightens your clothes, and you turn with a bright smile to greet the new arrival. Your smile freezes as you catch sight of the itinerant professor. Your heart, however, decides to work over time, forcing you to breathe deeply as you attempt to calm it.  

“Hello and welcome to Hogwarts.” The words flow easily as you extend your hand in greeting. Being a professor has taught you many things. The most important in this time of crisis is the ability to speak boldly no matter the situation. “I am Professor Y/L/N, and I will be escorting you to the castle and helping to get you situated.”

Kyungsoo’s brows furrow as he reaches to grasp your hand. “I wasn’t aware any of the professors at Hogwarts spoke Korean.”

“None do.” Your smile dims as you clear your throat. “I am the charms professor and am quite skilled at translation spells.”

“I am fluent in English. I wouldn’t have accepted the position otherwise.” He informs you as he throws his luggage on the back of the carriage. 

“I know. I just thought it would be fun to practice the charm.” You shake your head as you climb in behind him. 

[Friday, September 3rd, 2010; 7:37 p.m.]

First comes the deep breath as you prepare yourself to be brave. Next comes the knock. Kyungsoo glances up from his desk, and his greeting smile steals your bravery. You’re already here though, no backing down now. 

“Professor Abkre and I are going to the Hog’s Head to celebrate the end of the first week. Would you like to come?” The grandfather clock which sits in the far corner of Kyungoo’s office announces each second that ticks by. When you have given up hope of ever breathing again, Kyungsoo nods.

The Hog’s Head during your school days had been dark and dingy and frequented by people of questionable repute. Aberforth had owned the pub back then, but when he passed and the pub’s new owner arrived, the pub began a new era. Minseok had opened the windows, cleared the cobs, and kept the old wood polished. He had also expanded the menu beyond alcohol to include teas and coffee. The pub was now an oasis for professors.

Professor Abkre, the Divination professor and your best friend, sits waiting for you, a cup of tea steaming in her hand. 

“Emmaline.” You greet her as you slide into the other side of the booth. Kyungsoo slides in beside you, and the three inches between you steals a large portion of your thoughts. “Emmaline?” 

Your friend’s attention finally snaps to you. “Oh, Professor Do, you agreed to come. Welcome.” 

“Is there something behind me?” Kyungsoo cranes his head, but Emmaline lunges for his robe’s collar, directing his attention back to the table.

“No. Nothing.”

“Minseok.” Your correction earns you a glare and a warning, and you remember who is sitting beside you. You mouth an apology as your eyes plead for mercy.

“Are you two dating?” The question startles a snort from you.  

In response to Kyungsoo’s bewildered expression, Emmaline says, “No, I think he is attractive.That’s all.”

“Have you talked to him?”

The addition of an outsider to your duo always reminds you how odd your behaviors are. “No,” Emmaline continues. She picks at her nails and, with a sigh, explains, “Y/N and I don’t talk to men that we like. We stare at them from afar and do nothing until the feelings go away.”

“Why?”

“That’s a much longer explanation.” You chime in. “And we came here to drink. I’m going to order.” You warn. Emmaline shakes her head, and you flag Minseok down. 

As he approaches your booth, he slows. A wide smile splits his face. “Kyungsoo!” He greets the itinerant professor, launching into a conversation in Korean.

Emmaline’s eyes go wide as all the color leaks from her face. She leans forward, and placing a hand to the side of her mouth, whispers, “What are they saying?”

Mimicking her posture, you respond with “I have no idea. I didn’t cast my translation charm.”

“I am going to kill you.”

“I know.” Both of you lean back as the men finish their conversation.

“You two know each other?” Emmaline squeaks.

“Minseok is the one who told me about the opportunity at Hogwarts.”

Emmaline nods. “Well, I need to be anywhere that’s not here.” And with that, your friend is gone. Minseok glances after her, his brow furrowing. 

“I’d like a Butterbeer please.” You draw his attention away from your friend. “Kyungsoo?”

“I already gave him my order.” Kyungsoo’s voice is soft. Minseok nods to both of you before going to get your drinks. “I didn’t say anything to him.”

“I know.” You sigh, slumping in your chair. “It’s just-” You make a vague gesture with your hands but words fail to explain the sensation elicited from the situation.

“Do you two really not talk to men you like?” 

Your response is immediate, born of endless conversations with your family and Emmaline’s, but you swallow the answer when you glance at Kyungsoo. 

[Friday, December 24th, 2010;  8:53 p.m.] 

Christmas, typically, means a reprieve from students and duties, you had explained to Kyungsoo before the fall term started. He could even return home for the holiday. He had shrugged, explaining that the holiday did not hold the same sentiment for him. 

Halfway into term though, you both learned that this Christmas will be more stressful than classes. The Head Boy and Girl along with the prefects decided to have a Yule Ball. The Headmistress volunteered you and Kyungsoo as chaperones for the ball. Being a chaperone means ensuring that the punch remains punch, the students maintain proper school distance, and that you thwart the inevitable pranks. 

The night before the ball, you stay awake into the dawn. When Emmaline makes a jibe about the reason, you brush it off. While you have spent several of the hours planning your outfit for the next day, you kindly explain to her that the main reason is finishing chaperone preparations. 

The prep is definitely needed. As you hit the ground running once the sun rises. By the time the ball starts, you are ready for bed. Your robes which had started the day neatly pressed sport more wrinkles than a Sharpei, your perfectly coiffed hair fared no better, and you lack the motivation to charm it back in order.

Pulling another set of students apart, you shoo them out of the shadows and back on the dance floor. You remain in the background, pulling a flask you had confiscated from a sixth year not five minutes into the ball, from your robe’s inner pocket. He had attempted to unload the contents in the punch. A quick swig confirms it as Fire Whiskey.

“May I have a sip?” 

You jump, the flask fumbling out of your hand. But it freezes a foot from the floor. The whiskey catches in a delicate amber arc for a moment. Then slowly, it slips back into the flask as it rights itself and floats into Kyungsoo’s waiting hand. He slips his wand back into his robes before taking his sip. 

“Confiscated?” He asks.

You nod. “Not that I’m above bringing my own.” You chuckle, running a hand through your ruined hair and regretting your lack of motivation. The shadows thankfully conceal your wrinkles.

“How many hours do we have left?” He asks as he returns the flask. His fingers brush against yours, sending a thrill up your arm. 

Shaking yourself, you check your watch and groan. “Another three hours at the least. I’m sure we’ll be rounding up students until well after three though.” 

He smiles as he comes to stand beside you, his gaze scanning the hall. “I suppose that’s not so bad. I had school friends who partied until the sun rose.”

The idea pulls your shoulders down with the imagined weariness. You have never – nor have you ever had the desire – to spend so much time away from your bed. “Did you?” He shakes his head. “Did Minseok?” He shakes his head again with a chuckle.

“Minseok and I were the boring members of our group.” 

“That makes sense. After all, you did become a professor of Ancient Oriental Magic.” You tease. 

“And Charms is more exciting?” Despite his level tone, you catch the hint of mockery in the way the corner of his lips quirks up. 

“I never said it was.” You fight the urge to stick out your tongue because you are an adult. “I picked Charms because I am good at it. I’ve never been the adventurous type.”

“Is that why you don’t talk to guys you like?” 

Your breath catches, and you force yourself to shrug. “Like I said that’s a long explanation.”

“You don’t have trouble talking with me.”

“I was forced to talk to you.” The words are out before you fully realize what you're saying. “What I mean is as your guide it was my job to talk to you.” He turns his full attention on you, and words start to spill out. “I had to start talking to you; instead of ignoring you. It’s the starting that’s hard. Once I talk to somebody, it’s easy to continue talking to them. So it’s different with you.”

He nods, his eyes going unfocused, and you wish you had a gift for legilimency. “If you were not my guide, you would have never spoken to me.”

“Yes.” 

“Because you like me.”

“Yes. NO!” But you have already spoken the truth, and the grin spreading across his face buries any hope of convincing him otherwise. With a sigh, you lean your back against the wall, and keeping your gaze on the revelers, continue, “Yes, I like you, but I expect nothing from my crush. I am content to like you from a distance and continue as your friend.”

“But what if I like you too?”

You snort, but swallow your response when you catch sight of his eyes. The candle light glints off them, highlighting his sincerity. “What?”

He steps forward, capturing your full gaze and shielding you from the rest of the hall. “I like you, and I do not want to continue as only your friend.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Well in that case, I guess we could date?” The word feels silly, but Kyungsoo smiles.

“I’d like to date.” He steps back, and the bright lights of the Great Hall flood in along with the sound of song and revelry. 

Your foot taps along to the tune, and your heart leaps to join the dancing.  You content yourself with smiling, and when Kyungsoo slips his hand in yours, you hold tight.

#kyungsoo #hmw #exo #D.O. #kyungsoo collection #kyungsoo drabble #hogwarts #harry potter au #exo drabble #kyungsoo fanfiction #exo fanfiction

[deans-baby-momma]

Seeking Mercy-Chapter 9

A/N: This is the next to last chapter of Seeking Mercy. The epilogue to the Falling saga, Resolutions, will be posted on Monday, August 10. So in 7 days this story will be over. Just in time for my new one, Mommy’s (Not So) Good Girl to start on August 12. If you want tagged for the new story or any of my others, just send an ask HERE

A/N2: One warning, two words. Micheal!Dean.

“Y/N!” Sam’s voice frenzy as he screams through the phone. “Get the kids and get out! NOW!”

“What, why?” The panic and terror of her brother-in-law’s voice rushing through her.

“He said yes. The asshole said yes and let Micheal take over. Now we don’t know where he is or what he is up to. So take the kids and go to Bobby’s cabin in Whitefish.”

Y/N feels like ice water is pumping through her veins as she listens to Sam. Dean promised! He promised he wouldn’t do something stupid. But now here she is running around trying to pack up enough stuff for two babies and get away. Get out of town before Micheal finds her. God only knows what he would do to her or the kids, just to hurt the Winchesters.

Strapping Mavelin into her carseat and then placing the infant carrier into its base is difficult with the shaking Y/N is doing. She’s got to get her family to safety. The cabin is almost a whole day’s drive away and she knows she isn’t going to be able to do it, not with kids in tow.

As she finishes putting the last of the bags in the trunk of her Charger, she opens up the internet app on her phone and looks for hotels on the way. She slides in behind the wheel and inputs the coordinates for a hotel in Casper WY into the GPS. 

The Budget Inn is almost 9 hours away but she hopes it’s far enough for an overnight stop, praying Micheal doesn’t somehow track her and the kids down. 

Pulling out of the garage, Y/N watches as the Bunker gets smaller and smaller and then disappears in her rearview. ‘Life on the run with two kids under the age of 2,’ she thinks to herself. ‘Fun times ahead.’

A week. One whole week since she left the Bunker in a desperation to keep their children and herself safe. Seven days since Sam called and told her that her husband had welcomed in the archangel Micheal to try and save the world.

Damn him! Damn him to hell! He promised he wouldn’t do something rash. He swore to her he would stay cautious and not bow down to anything. He lied. He fucking lied! And now here she is, over a thousand miles away without any idea of what is going on back at home.

Thankfully Micheal has yet to try to seek her out. Y/N bought a prepaid cellphone as soon as she arrived and had destroyed her old one.  She texted Mary from the new number but has not heard hide nor hair from anyone. She wonders if they even got the text.

Maddox has just went down for the night; Mavelin has been out for hours when there is a knock on the cabin’s door. Grabbing her Glock from its hiding spot, she tiptoes to the front and looks out the window.

Standing at the door is her husband. Well, it’s her husband’s vessel anyway. This body is too rigid, standing too straight. Dean would never stand with his shoulders that stiff, what with the weight of the world on them for so long. 

And the outfit! Although her husband looks mighty fine in the stylish ensemble, it is an outdated look. A fashion popular back in the 1920s in England maybe, but in 2018 it is just antiquated.

“Y/N,” her husband’s voice calls out. “I know you are in there. Open up.”

Hearing his voice makes her heart ache. She hasn’t heard his voice for almost 2 weeks, with the last thing he said to her was that he loved her. Tears emerge out of nowhere and she steels herself. She isn’t going to cry. She isn’t going to let him see just how affected she is.

“What do you want, Micheal?” She asks as she props her back against the door frame, out of his view.

“Don’t worry darling. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

“Why? I have nothing to do with anything. I have no dog in this fight.”

“Oh but you do,” Micheal says. “You hold the key to everything. Just let me in and we can discuss it.”

Hoping and praying that she is making the right decision and that Dean has enough of a hold on his conscience to keep their family safe, Y/N reaches out and unlocks the door. The tick of each tumbler clicking open seems amplified in the room.

Micheal sits in the chair and watches as Y/N paces back and forth. It’s unnerving to her how he is commandeering the room. Sitting there with his legs crossed at the knees, his arms bent and flat against the cushions on the chair, palms flat and unmoving. 

But the look on his face….the look he gives her everytime she chances a glance at him is daunting. He is complaisant and placating; a menacing smile gracing his lips. 

“What do you mean, I hold the key to everything? I haven’t hunted in over 2 years. I know almost nothing when it comes to what is going on. I’ve been busy raising mine and Dean’s children.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Micheal tsked. “Don’t you mean Dean’s daughter and his nephew?” 

Y/N feels like she is going to puke! This fucking angel just confirmed her greatest fear. But instead of caving, she denies his claim.

“No, Dean is the father to both my kids.”

“Ah, yes. He plays the proud poppa card well. But we both, you and I, know that that little boy sleeping just in the next room-” Micheal nods his head toward where Maddox is sleeping. “-belongs to Adam, the son John hid.”

“No,” Y/N whispers as the tears she had for so long held in begin to make their way down her face. 

“Yes,” Micheal says. “The boy belongs to Adam. And now Dean knows it too. He’s awake in here you know. Yes, he is inside here-” he points to his head. “-listening, hearing our discussion. He now knows you lied all those months ago. And he also knows that it wasn’t just while he was injured.”

Y/N’s eyes snap to Micheal. “Ye-yes it was,” she defends herself but knows deep down it is no use. The angel knows already.

“Now Y/N why must you continue this charade. I have been watching you for a while now. I have seen it all. And now Dean has too. He has seen you and Adam going at it behind his back for months-MONTHS- before the accident. He has heard all the filthy words said between the two of you and how you wanted Adam to impregnate you. How you begged for his seed to load you up, to fill your womb.

“I have almost successfully broken Dean with that, but I do need your help to complete my mission,” Micheal says as he stands and approaches Y/N. “I need you to leave him. He already knows you’ve cheated, he already knows the youngest Winchester is not his son. So, leave him. Do not let anyone know where you are, where you end up. 

“Not Sam. Not Mary. Not Adam. Pick a place and go there, change your identity, your kids’ identities. I promise not to bother you. I need Dean broken and crushed to fulfill my destiny,” Micheal pauses and stares down at Y/N. “So what do you say, Y/N. Ready to become someone else?”

Two days later Y/N finds herself laying in bed at the cabin with Mavelin and Maddox by her side. She has cried all she can cry at this point. The proposition Micheal gave her tumbling through her mind. 

Leave Dean and become someone new, go someplace none of the Winchesters will be able to find or Dean dies. Micheal described in vivid detail how he would gradually and leisurely kill Dean and it almost broke her. 

The alternative was to wait out Sam and the rest of the family in hopes that they could figure out how to overtake Micheal and get him out of Dean and bring Dean back home in one piece.

Micheal’s taunts kept haunting her though. Did Dean know now? Did he know she lied? That Maddox wasn’t his son, although at the time she told him the baby was his, she hadn’t been  sure. Thanks to Micheal though, she now knows that Adam Milligan-Winchester did in fact impregnate her. 

But that was something that could be worked out, right? People raise other people’s kids all the time, right? So it isn’t that big of a deal that Adam fathered the boy Dean has been raising. 

Although, that aspect was resolvable, the fact that Dean also now knows that she and Adam had been going at it for longer than she portrayed was something she didn’t know could be fixed. That right there was a big FUCK YOU. Not only had she slept with his brother but she lied and let him assume that it was only while he was injured.

Dean, knowing that Y/N and Adam had been going at it behind his back, was going to be a hurdle she wasn’t sure she could clear.

It was just easier to disappear, right? Just fall off the face of the planet and let Dean move on. He’d find love again, she’s sure. Although it took a lot of hard work on her part to get him to open up, Y/N is confident Dean could find another woman to be loyal and true to him; possibly even give him more children. Kids that were truly his.

The idea of Dean with someone else, though, breaks her heart and Y/N starts sobbing into the pillow once again.

Another month passes before Y/N finally hears a ping from her cellphone. It’s a message from Mary.

Mary: We did it Y/N. We saved Dean. It is safe to come home.

That night, Y/N and the kids are on the road heading toward the Bunker when her formerly silent phone rings.

“Hello?”

“How far out are you?” It’s Dean’s voice and she can tell it is her husband, not the man who once enraptured his body. The tone and cadence of it is what she is used to.

“I’m in Bridgeport, so about 5 hours. Give or take,” she answers. “How are you?”

Instead of answering, Dean sighs through the phone. “I’ve arranged a place for you and the kids to live comfortably. It’s across town but we all worked together and have warded it against everything possible. You’ll be safe. I’ll send you the address. All I ask is that you allow me to see Mavelin.”

Y/N’s heart breaks in her chest as she hears his words. He doesn’t want her to come to the Bunker. He doesn’t want her anymore. The tears she thought she had all cried out came back with a vengeance; enough that Y/N had to pull over to compose herself.

“Dean, no. Please? Can we talk when I get back to the Bunker?”

There is silence on the other end and she takes the mobile device away to see that the call has  ended. He had hung up on her. While staring at the screen a text comes through.

 “134 Chestnut Street.”

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​​ @squirrelnotsam​​ @sandlee44​​  @internationalmusicteacher​​ @kricketc29​ @natura1phenomenon​​ @blacktithe7​​ @spnbaby-67​​ @travelingriversideblues-x​​  @keymology​​ @tftumblin​​ @markofdean79​​ @thevelvetseries​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @winchester-fantasies​ @akshi8278​ @michellethetvaddict​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @hoboal87​ @atc74​ @maddiepants​ @delightfullykrispypeach​

#seeking mercy #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #adam milligan #reader insert #unplanned pregnancy #dean x reader #adam x reader #cheating #smut #mary winchester #heartbreak

[chilling-seavey]

Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Epilogue

A/N This story has received even more amazing feedback than my other ones have and I feel so sad that it’s over but so happy that you guys loved it just as much as I did. Even you Team Christian people who yelled at me a little ;) Anyway, here’s the final chapter. Do you think Louisa really got her happily ever after she had been dreaming of? 

Jamestown, Virginia ~ January 18, 1822

Louisa carefully slid the knife over the skin of the potato in her hand, the scraps falling onto the wooden countertop as she worked by light of the early evening sun seeping through the window in front of her. When the potatoes were peeled, she chopped them up and slipped them into the pot of cooking stew that was hanging over the fire for their supper. She wiped her hands on her apron and pushed her tied back hair from her face with a sigh before tidying up the food scraps and glancing in their storage to check on their winter stock.

It was starting to get chilly, so Louisa bent down to tend to the fire in the kitchen, trying to warm up the single storey house. It wasn’t a huge place, definitely not what they were used to in England or France, but it was all they could afford for the price of the diamond engagement ring that they sold the second they set foot in the United States. At only sixteen, and coming from very privileged lifestyles, Daniel and Louisa were oblivious to the cost of the necessities of life, especially in a new country. They didn’t know that they got completely ripped off by the pawnshop owner who was willing to take advantage of the youthful runaway Brits who stumbled into his store, fresh off the ship. Regardless, they ended up with a bit of cash in their pockets and a (somewhat) sturdy roof over their heads and that was enough for them, having been married by the captain of the ship the first day at sea, ready to start their new life together.

Louisa barely sat herself down at the kitchen table before a soft cry came from the bedroom across the hall. She rushed over, making sure her hands were clean against her apron as she leaned over the small wooden crib in the corner to pick up the baby. He was born in August, just over a year since Louisa had first arrived at Kensington Palace although he was not born to any regal destiny. He was conceived during their first winter in America; the young couple nearly frozen to the bone in their drafty single storey and desperate for any warmth, he was carried almost full term by seventeen-year-old Louisa who had gone into labour a few weeks early due to her tendency to overwork around their small house, and he was delivered by candlelight to parents who had more love than money.

The five-month-old baby was a little cold to the touch and Louisa tucked the wool blanket around him as she picked him up and carried him to the kitchen so they could warm up by the fire, shushing his cries softy as she sat down. It was often that she found herself sitting alone, tending to the housework and the baby, Daniel busy with work or, rather, trying to find something better for them.

One thing that Louisa and Daniel had learned after moving to United States was that they were not liked very much. Still freshly independent from their ties to Britain, America didn’t enjoy having Brits around and Daniel’s accent was a dead giveaway, Louisa’s English also tied up in European taste, and from the start they were always treated poorly by their colonial counterparts. The only people who seemed to lend a hand were their neighbours, property owners on the land north of them and the husband took Daniel in to work at his blacksmiths shop for pennies. It was better than nothing and Daniel was grateful, but it was grueling work and he hated every second he was there.

Louisa glanced up at the sound of the front door creaking open and being shut and the boots being stomped clear of snow before Daniel was in the doorway to the kitchen, his hat in his soot covered hands. He sent a tired smile to his little family and trudged over to press a kiss to Louisa’s head and then to the baby’s.

“How was it?” Louisa asked softly as he pulled out a chair and sat with them at the table. Snow fell from his coat and he brushed it onto the floor as he pulled out the papers from his inside pocket.

“Nothing again.” Daniel sighed, tossing the stack of scribbled lines onto the table and leaned his elbow down to rest his chin in his hand tiredly.

“Did they say anything worth repeating?” Louisa set her hand on his thigh and he tucked his fingers around hers, still wearing his gloves that were dotted with holes.

“They said plenty. None really worth repeating.” Daniel sighed. “Laughed in my face, called me names like they all do, telling me how I won’t amount to anything…that I am a joke of a composer and I make their mare giving birth sound like angles singing.”

“That’s not true.” Louisa mumbled, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I was sitting at that piano and I couldn’t play.” Daniel breathed to the tabletop. “I haven’t practiced since England. It’s like all the pieces have vanished from my memory and I was so choppy and messy and I keep making an idiot of myself.”

“We can find you a place to practice. Maybe the librarian knows a building with an old piano where you could practice.”

“And be away from you two longer?” Daniel frowned sadly, reaching with his free hand to rub gently against the baby’s chubby cheek. “I can’t.”

“We need the money, Dani.” Louisa whispered. “Our food stocks are running low and the winter is barely over. We won’t make it at this rate, we need more money.”

“I know.” Daniel ran his hands over his face tiredly. “I’ve been working all I can, but David can only spare so much. He said he’s running himself thin too.”

“Someone’s going to want your music, I’m sure of it.” Louisa assured him, although her own words didn’t do much to even comfort herself.

She passed over the baby to Daniel who instantly smiled at his young son in his arms as Louisa moved to tend to the supper. The sun was setting quickly, meaning they were sitting in the near dark when she served the two bowls of watered-down stew, the light of the fire being their only illumination. Louisa hated eating the same tasteless soup every night, only being watered down more and more as their winter stock lessened. They ate in silence, the baby sat on Daniel’s lap and held against his chest by his gloved hand and tucked warmly in his open jacket, Louisa trying to hold in her own shivers of cold, the fire not doing much against the brutal winter wind that leaked through the thin walls.

“Have you heard back from your father?” Daniel asked softly, as if hesitant to ask.

Louisa shook her head, letting her spoon fall against the side of her empty bowl so she could run her hand tiredly over her forehead.

“I’m sure they’re alright.” It was Daniel’s turn for a failed attempt at reassurance, setting his hand on hers against the tabletop.

Louisa didn’t reply as she stood up to put their empty dishes on the counter and began to wash them to put away. Daniel sighed deeply from behind her and he looked down at the baby on his lap who was nibbling on the edge of his open jacket. He pulled it out of his son’s mouth and the baby smiled up at him with dimples that mirrored Christian’s own. Daniel figured it was fate punishing him for fleeing and stealing the future Queen with him; giving his son features of his brother so every time he looked at him he was reminded of his own guilt.

They never knew what happened to their families after jumping onto the ship bound for America, ties completely cut and bridges burned. Louisa always assumed the worst, knowing that France had probably fallen under English control when she fled and she couldn’t help but think of her family being sent to the guillotine for their daughter’s terrible behaviour in putting the future of the British Royal Family at risk. Christian wouldn’t let that happen though, would he?

Even Daniel didn’t know the capabilities his own brother, especially in the last few weeks before they fled, hardly recognising the young man who had threatened his life. They could only hope Christian’s love for Louisa would have spared her family, although there was no way to know for sure. It would forever be an unknown.

Daniel looked up at Louisa, watching her back as she scrubbed the dishes by the window in the rising moonlight. He picked up his sheet music with the hand that wasn’t holding the baby and scanned it over, eyeing the scribbled notes and trembling handwritten bars, stained in dried alcohol where the panel of men had thrown their drinks at him from crystal glasses. Similar crystal glasses that once fit in his own hand in gold trimmed ballrooms in expensive clothing, sitting next to Louisa in her diamond tiara and her rouge coloured cheeks, the light glinting off her ring on her left hand. Now he couldn’t afford to even put food on the table yet alone buy her a wedding ring.

“I wish I had more to offer you.”

Louisa turned around at his sudden statement, dishes drying on the counter and she wiped her damp hands on her apron, before bending down to stifle the fire, “Why do you say that?”

“You were set for a life of riches and royalty and status and now…now we can’t even afford to keep the fire on through the night. You have nothing with me.” Daniel mumbled.

Louisa sighed and stood up as they were engulfed in darkness and cold as the fire died out, and she walked around him to wrap her arms around his shoulders, resting her head against his, “I have you. And our boy. That’s all that matters.”

Daniel nodded weakly, sending her a small smile before she kissed him once, her lips cold from the winter weather. “I love you.”

Louisa kissed his cheek, tightening her arms around his shoulders as she stared out the window in the snow coated countryside, swallowing back her tears for another uncountable time, “I love you too.”

#daniel seavey #christian seavey #why dont we #wdw #why dont we music #jonah marais #corbyn besson #jack avery #zach herron #limelight #daniel seavey imagines #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we imagines #why dont we fanfic #historical fiction #👑

[leakinghate]

Chasing the Ghosts of Season 8

Let’s skip the flowery intros and get to the point, because this is important.

Lotor’s vindication and reunion with Allura were originally part of VLD s8 and I can prove it. Most animation relating to this plot was excised, while other clips were re-purposed to make it look like he was dead all along: but some are still in there.

The removal of this plot line was one of the major factors in completely messing up season 8, and it was a change that was made very recently; no earlier than August in fact. There is a significant, non-zero chance that an unedited version of Season 8 exists in its entirety; completely finished.

The evidence is below the cut.

Trigger Warnings: Gore - that image and discussion of it, body horror, sexism, and major character death.

There’s something rotten in the house of Voltron, and by that I mean Dreamworks animation, because for reasons yet unknown the season 8 we got was not the one the writers had planned to give us.

The people involved likely can't talk about it due to NDAs, but I follow *most* of the cast and crew on social media, and from the way many of them were talking prior to the drop it’s obvious that whatever they'd recorded had led them to expect a very different season.

The almost total radio silence afterward is also telling.

So far as I can tell, AJ (Lotor’s VA) is the only one actively posting about it, and his posts have been expressing his distress over what happened to Lotor - a stark contrast to his excitement about the season prior to its airing. It’s very apparent that he thought Lotor would have a very different fate than he appears to. At the moment of the season drop he tweeted out “Lotor was framed”, and later didn’t seem to realize that ‘Allura’ was trending because she’d died.

Some of the other VA’s scarce posts lead me to believe that they’re having similar reactions: a now deleted post from Bex (Pidge’s VA) about having watched up to episode 6 consisted of an image of DOTU Lance captioned with “[internal screaming]”. Bex has since removed all references to VLD from her bio.

I’m certain that the VLD s8 we got was NOT the s8 that was originally planned. Or the one the writers and VAs had been alluding to in various interviews up until recently.

We know there were some very last minute changes to season 8. I guarantee you that Ezor was actually dead before the backlash over Adam in August, and you're kidding yourselves if you think that epilogue existed before then either.

Kihyun Ryu's 'last Shiro' tweet - that we now know to be from the wedding epilogue - was posted on September 13th, 2018. Less than two months ago these changes were still in progress. Less than a month before the first trailer premiered at NYCC these changes were still being made.

And those was absolutely not the only things which were changed. It was hinted we should pay attention to the s7 episode "the Feud" to spot some foreshadowing. Well? I've seen both that episode and s8 and I sure as heck can't find it.

This was beyond last minute.

JDS and LM were still talking in ways that would lead us to expect Lotor’s redemption roughly up to s7 in August; so whatever happened, it went down between August and November. Which is probably why s8 is so shitty; with such a terribly compressed timeline to make edits.

And edits they were, because with those time frames season 8 was either completely finished or very near to it when someone decided that things had to change.

I can prove it.

Do you know how?

Because the animation was recycled and altered to fit the new story, with only small parts made new for it. And because it was something else first, it’s still possible to partially reconstruct the original Season 8 from it.

Lets start with the big one, the one I’m sure you’re here to read: Lotor’s redemption and reunion with Allura.

One of the most frustrating things about season 8 is that it leaves the colony unexplained. The big question, the thing that results in Lotor’s murder at the hands of people he calls friends, and leads to a power vacuum that causes the deaths of untold billions of people. What was Lotor doing at the colony?

It’s never addressed or given an answer.

At least in the version of season 8 that we got.

Or is it?

Because they might have removed the conclusion to that plot thread, but they couldn’t get rid of it entirely.

In e8 ‘Clear Day’. Allura's suffers from several nightmares/dream sequences. They don't make any sense in context, and it’s never explained what caused them. Except, they make perfect sense, if you watch them as the first step towards understanding The Colony. 

Allura sees herself standing in a Juniberry field on Altea. Her mother greets her and proclaims that Allura has arrived just in time, and that only she can save them, “Only you can protect us.”

A Galra fleet passes over head, raining down laser fire.

Allura suddenly finds herself the pilot of one of the white mechs. She plunges her spear into the ground, draining the quintessence, and then fires on the fleet; obliterating it.

But as she grins in victory she realizes that the quintessence she siphoned from the planet has turned her immediate landscape to ash, including her mother. Allura is horrified, but as her mother crumbles away her voice echoes, telling Allura she is so proud of her.

In case me describing it wasn’t clear enough: what just happened to her was that Allura was literally put in Lotor’s position, operating one of his mechs. The places and the people were those that Allura cherished deeply, so that she could understand how terrible Lotor felt about what he had to do. It literally puts Allura in Lotor's place: having to take the responsibility of destroying parts of something she loves in order to protect the whole. 

And her mother? The Altean who was ‘sacrificed’ in this scenario? Praised her for taking the actions she did, because Allura was the only one able to do it. And the only choice was to save most of Altea, or none of it.

When Allura eventually does take the entity into herself we see the lights of Honerva’s mech’s faceplate lighting, then flash to a scene of Lotor in Sincline. He’s laughing, grinning as he did during s6′s finale, and as the camera zooms in on his face he shouts “Follow me!”

Briefly we see Voltron in front of the planets of Earth’s solar system, which is drowned out by a peculiar scene transition: an intense white light that appears to obliterate everything as though in an explosion.

None of these scenes are ever explained, but it’s reasonably comparable to the flash of images that Haggar sees in season 3 when she is first confronted with Zarkon’s memories. We’re left with the impression that we’re about to be enlightened, and the end of the episode reveals that Allura has passed out on the floor unconscious.

In this version of season 8, we never are told what exactly caused Allura to experience those visions. We can guess: was it perhaps the entity tempting her with its dark magic? Honerva attempting to place her under a spell?

But is the entity really dark magic? It’s different from the types of magic we’re used to, and the colors of it are certainly dark, but it in itself never actually causes Allura harm. Any harm she suffers after taking it into herself is caused by Honerva exploiting it.

Could it be a spell by Honerva? Unlikely. It took her almost two whole episodes of the paladins fooling around inside her mind for her to notice they were even there. If Allura had never taken the entity none of Honerva’s plans would have ever been found out. Yes, she did steal all the energy from the Atlas’ crystal, but she did that primarily to combat the Atlas and disable it. She didn’t need to get it from there, the energy her Komars were able to provide was all she needed.

So what caused those visions?

Lotor did.

Once he was free of the rift he was able to connect with Allura somehow and reach out to her. That was really him. Where he is now, trapped under Haggar’s control, he has no means to combat the witch. But Allura does. Everything he says to her? Is true.

The next episode, s8e9 “Knights of Light: Part 1″ begins with Allura awaking, Coran and Lance by her bedside. She’s been asleep for two quintants (days). She has apparently come up with a plan to infiltrate Honerva’s mind, but from whence she gets this plan is never explained. That’s because we’re missing an entire episode between these two. This is where Lotor’s redemption happens, where he and Allura finally reunite. God knows what else was in that episode, what else was happening while the paladins were waiting for Allura to wake. Lotor bids Allura to follow him, to finally allow him to tell his side of the story, and for some reason we weren’t allowed to hear it.

But from what we did get to see? It all but confirms @crystal-rebellion‘s Colony Theory. Albeit, the white mechs were built by Honerva, but Lotor was attempting to keep the colony safe in the only way he knew how. The Alteans who died did so willingly; to preserve the lives of all the others.

There’s a repeated narrative that the only person who encourages Allura to take action, to strive and push forward, is Lotor. Sometimes others accept it, but they never encourage her. Everyone else seems to consider her too fragile, or not capable of making her own decisions. They want to protect her and coddle her, don’t believe she should be taking any risks. They are supportive emotionally, but want to limit her physically. They care about her, but don’t truly trust her judgement or want her to be making her own choices.

With Lotor though, it’s different. He truly sees her as an equal, respects her judgement in her areas of expertise. This plot line revolving around the entity is a prime example. Lotor provides Allura with the information, that she has everything she needs to take down Honerva right in front of her; she just needs to utilize it. But from the moment Allura wakes the people closest to her doubt her decisions and choices.

And yes, those choices lead to painful consequences, but in the end they are proven to be the right ones, to have been necessary. Allura took a calculated risk, and it pays off - if she hadn’t they’d have never caught Honerva in time to stop her from destroying everything. They wouldn’t even have discovered her plan in the first place.

If Allura hadn’t made the choice to listen to and trust Lotor, by her own judgement, reality itself would have ceased to exist.

Both Coran and Alfor are given specific scenes this season where they judge and approve of Lance in his pursuit of Allura. But key, neither of them ever ask - or even mention - Allura’s feelings on the matter. The s8 we got, rather disgustingly, portrays this as the right thing. I believe the original s8 was meant to subvert this. Because Lance is everyone else’s choice for Allura, but when Allura was allowed to make her own choice? She chose Lotor.

Allura once again ends s8e10 ‘Knights of Light: Part 2′ unconscious. I firmly believe we are missing more moments  - if not an entire episode - with Lotor here, in s8e11 ‘Uncharted Regions’ - probably explaining somewhere along the way how exactly he is able to contact her in this manner.

Which, uh... as to my personal theory on how that is, well... what did Lotor and Allura do together that might have crafted a unique spiritual bond between them?

What did you two experience in the quintessence field Lotor?

But, those were happier times...

I also think this is the episode, this missing one, that that particular image properly belongs to. We now see it in the previous episode, as one of Honerva’s memories. But the reason we see it is that the paladins apparently see it too. The only problem is, they don’t react to it at all. They literally have a stronger reaction to finding out they can see Honerva’s memories in the first place. There’s no possible way that Allura saw the melted corpse of the man she loved and had no discernible reaction. We see her reactions to Lotor’s presence multiple times over the course of s7 and s8, and they’re always intensely emotional ones.

But speaking of that image, since we’re on the topic. That’s a very detailed image.

There’s details there you don’t immediately spot, because you’re too distracted by the horrific imagery of the corpse of a main character. A character who’s tragic, abusive childhood was the focus of almost an entire episode earlier in the season.

Details such as the motes of light floating up from his body.

Motes of light we’ve seen in exactly two instances before: from Zarkon and Honerva’s eyes immediately after they were restored back to life by the rift.

And from Zarkon’s body: vanishing after he died.

Yeah guys, I’m about to make that image much worse.

That’s not Lotor’s corpse, because he’s not dead.

He’s still in there, in that state, and he’s been in there for over three years.

Melded, physically and mentally, with Sincline by his time spent in the quintessence field.

What. The. Fuck.

As the season progresses it becomes much more difficult to tell what was supposed to be happening because of how badly it’s been chopped up, re-arranged, and edited.

But there is a very distinct difference between Sincline’s two appearances in action - that is, it’s only in the first one that it actually is in action.

The last time we see Sincline move of it’s own accord is e6 ‘Genesis’. From the moment he reappears Lotor is on the attack; he is stopped only two times, once of his own accord and once by Haggar’s mind control.

And that one time he stops himself? Is when he takes aim at Allura. She’s running across the ground, about to strike Honerva with her bayard, when he raises his right arm and takes aim. We see her in his sights, through his eyes. And the view zooms in on Allura’s face.

Lance sees what’s happening and dives in Red to stop him, but is blocked by one of the white mechs.

Yet. He lowers his arm and doesn’t take the shot.

Lotor never fires.

But immediately afterwards the white mech lingers too close and Sincline impales it with it’s tail. It’s not an aversion to killing that stayed his hand.

It’s that it was Allura.

This scene unambiguously shows that Lotor is both alive inside that mech and somewhat aware of himself. He’s become a robeast.

Yet after that episode the mech never moves again. It hangs lifeless in space during the battle at the pyramid; the white mechs having to do the fighting. The lights on it’s chest have gone out, only relighting when it is charged with quintessence from the Komar. For all intents and purposes, Sincline is empty.

Oh, and speaking of Sincline, up until s8e9 it’s only ever referred to as “Lotor’s mech,” but suddenly, in e11 ‘Uncharted Regions’ they’ve learned its name and Allura calls it “Lotor’s Sincline”.

I think that at some point between ‘Knights of Light’ and the second half of e11 ‘Uncharted Regions’ Lotor was to have been rescued. 'Uncharted Regions’ is one of the worst episodes this season for flow: it’s extremely choppy and hard to follow - flicking back and forth between scenes without anything really happening in them.

But the most telling thing?

‘Uncharted Regions’ begins with Honerva in her haloed mech searching Alternate realities for her ‘perfect’ one. We see several clips of her doing this, the mech floating in front of the pyramid, alone, with the spinning disk of its wings as a viewport.

Suddenly, almost exactly halfway through the episode, we get an image of Honerva kneeling inside the pyramid, in her Altean commander uniform, one uniformed Altean to either side. She says “The princess has awakened,” and then the scene changes.

When next we see Honerva she’s floating above the pyramid, the silent and immobile Sincline by her side.

The entire time this is happening there is combat going on around the pyramid, first with the coalition fighters and then with the Atlas itself. This sequence appears in episode as though it all happens successively in a very short period of time. But it doesn’t make sense like that. Why should Honerva stop what she’s doing, and exit her mech just to check if Allura is awake?

In this scenario why does Honerva even care if Allura is awake? By this point she’s apparently found her perfect reality and is prepared to move on to it? She doesn’t need Allura for anything, none of her plans require Allura. Why should she even bother to announce that Allura is awake, as though this is something she’s been waiting for?

This entire episode, including the fight scenes, has been chopped into little pieces and rearranged. Other scenes have had edits to their animation, or were re-done entirely. What we have in ‘Uncharted Regions’ is a frankenstein’s monster of an episode constructed of the tiny remnants of of at least two, possibly three, original episodes.

If you watch this episode carefully you’ll notice that there’s a clip out of order. The lights on Sincline’s chest are dark until it’s charged with the quintessence from the Alteans on the Atlas. But. The close up shot of Sincline the paladins see immediately upon exiting the wormhole in front of the pyramid has the lights lit up. This clip clearly is part of the sequence we see later in the episode just before the mechs combine. So when the crew on the bridge of the Atlas is shown reacting in horror, whatever they’re actually reacting to has been cut out.

These original missing episodes would have contained what I’m fairly certain was our big Alchemist vs Alchemist reprisal fight between Honerva and Allura; something we’ve been waiting for since season 2′s finale.

Why was such an anticipated fight removed?

I think it’s because the fight was over Lotor, and ultimately Allura would have rescued him.

Every time Allura uses the powers she obtained in Oriande it’s mentioned where she got them, and often that she has them because of Lotor.

She’s shown again and again restoring life and health.

What happened, what we’re missing, is her using the abilities she has thanks to Lotor, to save him.

Allura is supposed to storm that pyramid, infiltrate it, and rescue Lotor from the evil witch holding him captive. She’s supposed to find him in that horrible state we saw him in, and she’s going to heal him. She’s going to fight for him, to protect him, when no one else in his life ever has.

There’s also a clear switch. When Sincline is active and alight Honerva several times refers to it as ‘my son’ but afterwards, she stops and uses Sincline as a tool for her to reach an Alternate Reality and obtain a ‘new’ version of Lotor. With the exception of one shot, where, since we can’t actually see her speaking it seems that the audio and animation are sourced from different original scenes, Honerva ceases treating Sincline as Lotor after the lights go out.

The line that causes Honerva to snap s8e12 ‘The Zenith’ is when the little alt Lotor says “My mother is dead”. It’s framed like a deliberate callback, like it should be echoing something. But it’s a line we’ve never heard. I’d hazard that this final rejection, this line was spoken by *our* Lotor as Allura is rescuing him.

Lotor was not dead in there, he was alive, and he was saved.

There is a really good theory going around, my friend @tsunemori told me about it. I don't know who first came up with it, but I fully support it, because I noticed the scene in question was really off too.

But the theory is that that hospital bed scene? Was originally Lotor in the bed after they rescued him, and Allura was in Lance's place. Which makes total sense, because after that scene, when Lance takes Allura to the bridge? His height is all wrong, and he is hanging onto her for support instead of the other way around: it should be Lotor there.

Do I have any concrete proof of this one? No. But there is something off about that scene. It just doesn’t feel right.

So yeah, if I ask myself, “Is this a scene that might have been re-animated, the characters traced over and re-drawn as different ones?” I can absolutely see that. When looking for places where actual edits to the animation have been made you have to factor in several things: the complexity of the animation - how many characters, how many settings, how much movement, who is the focus/moving/talking.

This is both a pivotal scene, and an incredibly easy one to alter, comparatively. Two characters, one laying still in a bed and only getting a single one-syllable line - the other character’s name, which might have been taken from anywhere. Lance has a long string of dialogue, but he’s sitting beside the bed the entire time, and he moves very little.

I strongly believe this scene was either altered significantly or created whole-cloth for this edited version of s8.

Things that are much harder to alter, because they’d be much more expensive, are the fight scenes. It’s where I started looking once I suspected what had happened with season 8, and it’s where I started finding things.

S8e12 ‘The Zenith’ is one of the best episodes in terms of flow, and I believe that’s because it suffers some of the least editing.

We are however missing at least two scenes: a farewell between Allura and Coran - presumably as Allura boards the Blue Lion - and an explanation as to how Voltron followed Honerva into her destination reality after the rift closed on them. I believe both of these scenes were edited out because Lotor was key in them; several scenes in the following episode s8e13 ‘The End is the Beginning’ lead me to believe that he spent the final battle in the Blue Lion with Allura.

Two scenes during the fight stand out to me: the first, a split screen where Keith is mysteriously given a double width section as compared to the others. It’s especially noticeable, because he’s not even centrally placed and he’s scaled to a different size than his fellow paladins. In the entirety of the series we have never before seen a split screen cut among an even number of characters where one of them is given odd prominence like this. The screen is arranged so the characters appear in a color gradient, Keith is red-black and immediately to his left is Allura who is blue. If there was a missing section here, the color space would correspond to indigo/purple - and those are Lotor’s colors.

The second is a moment when Allura is speaking facing forwards and very clearly looks to the side and makes eye contact with someone. Now, VLD does have moments when the paladins will react in their own lions as though they can see each other, but this isn’t like that. It’s the way her eyes move, and look, she’s talking to someone who’s point of view we’re seeing her from. And that person is Lotor.

There’s also a peculiar moment in this episode where the same split screen is used twice; another thing which has never before happened in the series. It appears first about a quarter of the way through the episode as the paladins enter the stage for the final showdown and then again as they push Honerva into the glowing whiteness at its center. I believe that the second one of these is its proper place, and that the one that originally went in the first instance had Lotor included in it.

Finally, and this is going to take several images, so be warned. When the paladins appear before Honerva in the heart of it all, fading into view, they’re spaced very strangely.

There’s six of them, so you’d expect they’d be spaced something like this:

But they’re actually spaced like this:

(yes, I know Honerva would be blocking someone there. She moves. I just picked this cap so you could see all the shadows; there’s no point showing you the empty space)

It rather looks like there’s someone missing.

The last half of the final episode is so heavily manipulated that it’s difficult to say what actually happened. But we have two very strong clues from which we can reconstruct it.

Remember the leaks?

Now that we know the leaks were real, it begs the question, why was this scene one of them. Unlike the others, which were all from the epilogue, this scene is from roughly halfway through the episode.

Well, I believe we have the answer now: whoever leaked them chose those because they were the scenes they had on hand. These were the scenes that were not originally part of VLD s8, and were added only in the last minute edit.

This one in particular is another where I think it’s taken an actual scene and traced over it to make it into something else. Lance is far too tall here, and doesn’t look like himself hardly at all.

It’s also very clear from the framing of the shot where Allura is going down the line of paladins and hugging them that Lance should be getting a send off in sequence to the others, not apart like this.

No, I think Lance was animated over Lotor here, and the audio was spliced in parts from Lance’s actual goodbye scene and Allura’s “I will always love you” comes from somewhere else. That portion of the line is said in a distinctly different tone of voice than Lance’s name beforehand. There’s different emotions to it than the rest of their conversation, and I’d guarantee we’re hearing it out of it’s original context.

I don’t know what else changes in the ending, but I’m very certain that it was not supposed to be read as Allura dying.

The reason we now read it that way is that Allura and Honerva are seen greeting the spirits of people we know that are dead. I’m fairly certain this scene is either new, or it was only Honerva going to meet them, and of course, that Lotor wasn’t among them.

And I think it was Allura and Lotor who stayed behind to do the work of restoring all realities. My proof of this is one of the very best and strongest among my evidence: the very last closing shot of Voltron: Legendary Defender, after the credits.

The lions of Voltron take off to rejoin their new Cosmic Entities; Allura and Lotor. Whoever was responsible for editing Lotor out of this picture only actually slightly blurred him.

Thanks to @articianne for the outline!

If you play around with the image contrast and brightness it’s even more obvious that the both of them are there, back to back.

It only looks like Allura dies because the spirits but without them there? It looks like they ascended to a higher plane of existence or something.

They haven’t died at all. They’ve become, of all things, like Bob, the gameshow host from s7e4 ‘The Feud’. An ‘all-powerful, all-knowing interdimensional being’.

And y’know? Bob was perfectly able to interact with the paladins no problem.

I don’t understand why these changes were made. To me? This looks like a perfectly happy ending.

What else was cut I don’t know. But I found all this evidence by looking for the things that weren’t there, that a competently structured plot would lead me to expect would be. Chasing ghosts, as it were.

A short list of additional things I strongly suspect were cut?

Several scenes between Keith and Shiro.

A pivotal scene between Allura and Coran.

A follow up event with Pidge referencing her sacrificing her videogame to get Allura a dress.

A scene between Lance and Pidge, possibly referencing said videogame.

A resolution to Lance and Pidge competing to get Allura the best present.

A conclusion to Axca’s sub plot.

A Hunk and Shay scene, to explain how and why the Balmeras all show up in s8e12 ‘The Zenith’.

An additional scene with the blade for the same reasons.

Actually, y’know what? I’m not just going to leave this, because I have a strong suspicion what one of the other cut subplots was about.

You see, the other half of ‘Clear Day’ isn’t entirely filler - it’s specifically a callback to the season 2 episode ‘Space Mall’, and it’s not the only one in this season. The little shopping trip from s8e1 ‘Launch Date’ is also one. Specifically they’re part of a plot for Pidge about her feelings for Lance.

In ‘Space Mall’ Pidge and Lance spend their time scrounging up change to buy a videogame console. The game that they purchase is part of a series that Pidge later trades the only copy of the latest version of to get Allura a dress. During ‘Clear Day’ Pidge and Lance both spend their time trying to get the best present for Allura (hint hint, Pidge is the one who actually got the ‘”something sparkly”).

Now, as I’ve already covered, there’s missing content between ‘Clear Day’ and the next episode. Part of that content should have been what the other paladins were doing while Allura was unconscious. And in series, we never actually see Allura receive either of those presents that were bought for her. So where did they go?

I think Pidge and Lance spent the time waiting for Allura to wake up together, and they got to talking about how Lance has once again failed to acquire the sparkly thing Allura would like. Perhaps Pidge trades her mining helmet for Lance’s signed Blue Lion, and then it comes up how both times Lance went to get a present for Allura he ended up getting one for Pidge.

And that first time was the video game wasn’t it? A perfect place for Lance to find out what happened with the video game in s8e1.

So why did Pidge trade that game? To make Allura happy, yes, but also to make Lance happy. Because Lance likes Allura and Pidge wants them to have a good time, because Pidge likes Lance. Like, check e1 when Allura tells her she's going on a date with Lance, Pidge's reaction... isn't really a happy one.

I think this should have been the turning point for Lance, where he learns the difference between infatuation and sincere affection. I think very soon after this his relationship with Allura would end, and he would naturally progress into a different sort of relationship with Pidge.

As much as I love s8e7 ‘Day Forty-Seven’ I don’t think it was originally part of season 8. I also get the feeling that s7e2 ‘Shadows’ may be composed of scenes we were supposed to have gotten throughout the later half of season seven - though I expect that this change was made in a much earlier spate of edits, likely when s7 was re-done. It’s been confirmed that this happened, and that s7e4 ‘The Feud’ was made to ease the pressure on the exhausted animators who’d been working overtime to get the other episodes done in time. It’s never been confirmed what exactly was changed about season 7 or why, but I highly suspect it was to include more content with the MFE fighters, who the higher ups at Dreamworks might have been hoping to spin off into a sequel.

I suspect that the episodes were shifted forwards, because the first half of the season has no 'event' episode. s8e6 ‘Genesis’ should have been that, and what we're missing is the mid-season event. Which was where they would have saved Lotor. They excised an entire climactic fight between Allura and Honerva, reprising their battle from season 2. The alchemist vs alchemist fight that was repeatedly alluded to being inevitable, yet we never got.

It was animated and voiced to be Lotura and Lotor's vindication.

But someone wanted that changed.

We know when and why ‘The Feud’ was created, and because we were teased in several interviews to pay attention to it so that we might spot some foreshadowing, we can definitively say that the mucking around that was done to season 8 happened at a much later date.

In fact, the animation portion was likely completed all the way back in June. These are two bumper images that were used to advertise Season 6, which released on June 15th.

We haven’t yet seen this image of Lotor appear in the show (for what it matters, the full color one is the correct way around; Lotor’s hair always curls up over his right shoulder, the left can go either way), we have scoured every frame of him to find it, but it’s just not there (yes I know it looks like it should be from s5e4 ‘Kral Zera’, but trust me it’s not). Every other image that’s ever been used in these promotional bumpers has been from somewhere in the show, but this one is so far absent. Therefore it’s from a piece of animation yet to appear, and one which was made by the time these images showed up in June.

Now that we know what the truth is, I am sure we will get the full story eventually. It's only a matter of time before it filters out.

But right now is the key time if we want to convince Dreamworks to release the original season 8. Tweet at them, email them, snail mail if you have the time! Sign that petition!

The fandom response now will determine if we find out what really happened sooner rather than later - and later could mean years.

We are the only people who can make this happen. The cast and crew are all bound by NDAs, and publicly reacting negatively towards a show you worked on is practically career suicide.

It has historically been fans who’ve made a difference when companies interfere with their favorite shows. Fans have been able to effect change in the past, and they will again in the future; lets make sure this is one of those times. We need to fight to get the VLD we should have gotten in the first place.

Just remember to apply your energies in the right places. JDS and LM aren’t perfect people (no one is!), but this isn’t their doing. This is someone above them responsible for the mess that was s8. Dreamworks Animation is the culprit. There is a very real chance that the original season 8 is completely finished and able to be released, and we just might get it if we’re persistent enough. 

Be polite, be reasonable, but be firm. Take this proof and use it. Show them that we know they changed things and that they can give us the original if they so choose.

The messages they inadvertently pushed with this slap-dash edit are vile and toxic, and people far more knowledgeable than I in those areas are speaking out about them. This needs to be fixed.

They need to say something. They need to tell us why they changed it. They need to give us the original Season 8.

Click here for Part 2: Seek Truth in Darkness

I, and any of you who enjoyed this meta, owe @nomadicism a huge thank you. She reminded me of that strange "Follow me!" scene, which prompted me to crack open 'Clear Day' for another watch... and I realized that Allura's dreams weren't nonsensical at all.

As always, thank you to my many friends in the Lotura Discord. You give me the strength and encouragement to keep going. I couldn’t have done this without you.

#Lotura #vld s8 #plance #Lotor #Allura #Pidge #Lance #VLD #Voltron legendary defender #VLD s8 spoilers #voltron spoilers #Haggar #Honerva #voltron conspiracy theory #The Ghosts of Season 8 #executive meddling #LotorDeservedBetter #AlluraDeservedBetter #Hate tries to Meta #hate writes too many words #it's like 6k #dare I tag it? #i dare #riftsex #i can't believe that's plot relevant #vld cast

[ladynuwanda]

Whatever Souls Are Made Of (Michael LangdonXMallory AU) - Epilogue

A/N: Now the conclusion to this story. This might be my fanfiction writing Swan Song, so I’d like to thank everyone who’s been around through any bit of these past 16 months. This is for you! <3

Warnings: Again, I think none. Let’s just tie the loose ends in a pretty little bow, shall we?!

Word Count: 1,4K

“There was no consolation for poor Mallory after that... She could not look down to this floor, but his features would be shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree... filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, she was surrounded with his image! The most ordinary faces of men and women, even her own features, mocked her with a resemblance. The entire world was a dreadful collection of memoranda that he had existed, and that she had lost him!”

“What happened to the other inhabitants of Thrushcross... I mean Hawthorne Grange?”, Emily seemed uncomfortable with the uncertainty of the events that could have taken place in her new home, before she came around. “We found Thrushcross Grange entirely empty in the wake of the massacre”, Misty said simply, “we assume Lady Mead had run away again, and probably relieved the servants from their duties”. “How can you be certain that she didn’t kill them all?”, Timothy seemed to be expecting almost anything from the lady he had never met, only judging by the story he had just heard. “The only corpse that was left behind was the Governess’s, Wilhelmina Venable. Apparently the two ladies didn’t get along as well as they’d want us to believe”, an unusually bitter grin crossed Misty’s lips at the thought.

But whatever it was that each of them could be thinking, after the truth had been brought to the surface one more time, was interrupted by the sound of a piercing cry coming from upstairs. Kyle Spencer rushed into the room in a few moments, eyes wide and breathing heavily “Miss Day! Come quick! It’s Lady Mallory!”, he managed to spurt out the words between agonised gasps, and left again. Timothy and Emily stood up, like they had been called as well, like there was anything at all that they could do to help, whatever emergency it might be. But Misty was already walking out of the room, an unreadable expression on her face as she followed Mister Spencer “That was not Mallory’s voice”, her own voice was weak and Misty herself felt lost in a dream.

The three of them went to the room the young couple had been occupying earlier that night, and found a woman standing in front of the shattered window looking down. “Cordelia?”, Misty’s voice was barely more than a whisper but the woman turned around immediately. Without a second thought, Lady Cordelia threw herself into her paramour’s arms and kissed Misty passionately. “How’s it possible?”, happy tears were falling from Misty’s eyes as she lovingly touched her lover’s face and hair. “Mallory. She performed a Reverse Sacred Taking. I had heard about it, I knew it was possible, but it had never been done by any Supreme in the entire history of the Coven.”, Cordelia smiled and cried at the same time. And still in a state of disbelieving daze, she explained that Mallory had sacrificed herself to give full power to the next Supreme before a new Supreme had risen. Mallory had performed a Descensum at the same time, and brought Cordelia back from the Underworld, in a last effort to make things right.

They looked down from what was left of the window, Mallory’s ruined body was on the ground bellow, one hand still clutching the hilt of the silver ceremonial dagger that she had stabbed her own heart with, before going through the window. Kyle Spencer was leaning over the body of the late Supreme, unaware of what her gesture had made happen, only regretting that he wasn’t able to protect her from her own despair. A delicate figure with long hair approached him slowly, and gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kyle took the hand that was offered and looked around to see who with was, to find Zoe Benson staring back at him. She had tears of joy in her eyes and the sweetest smile on her lips. Standing up, he pulled her to himself, and kissed her like nothing else mattered. He wouldn’t even bother to find out how this miracle was possible, he just wanted to hold her tight and never let her go again.

All around the Manor, the witches that had been massacred on that doomed day, when Michael died, were coming back to life where day had fallen. It was a miracle, indeed, and none of them would bother to understand it yet. They were just happy to be reunited with the sisters they thought had been lost for eternity. Madison and Zoe were finally able to put their differences aside and share a sincere sisterly embrace, but Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt simply stood still next to Mallory’s body, staring in disbelief at who was now the only fallen witch. “It was the price to reverse the evil that was made that day. And she gladly payed for it.”, it was Myrtle Snow’s voice carrying wisdom, enlightening the others on what Mallory’s plan might have been, “Delia. My dear child... you’re alive!”, and Lady Cordelia responded by wrapping her mentor in a warm embrace, finally reunited with the one who had been the closest thing she ever had to a mother.

Mallory’s sacrifice was the start of a long period of peace and prosperity to the Coven, which lead everyone to believe that, wherever they were, Mallory and Michael were together and happy at long last. There was no place for the star-crossed lovers in this world, but they would always find each other. Even in the afterlife. The peace and prosperity of the Coven extended to its tenants in the Grange, as well. The night they had spent in the Manor forged a bond of friendship between the young couple and their neighbours. The school was reopened, the witches had much to teach, and new students would arrive often. The next Autumn, Emily announced they were expecting their first child. And in early August, the following year, they welcomed a healthy baby boy they named Devan.

Devan was generally a good natured-child. He was incredibly clever and charming from a very early age, and the entire Coven considered itself his Godmothers. He was always welcome in the Manor to play with the younger witches, and there would be a tray of his favourite cake waiting for him whenever he went there. Timothy and Emily worried about how spoiled their child could be when they had Witch Godmothers looking after him. But it was only when he started to develop some unusual pastimes that they really had reasons to worry. They were standing in the animal shed of the Grange, looking at the butchered parts of what had been all the goats they’d had, and the innocent looking face of their blood-smeared child. It was hard for them to decide what the appropriate punishment could be when Devan didn’t even seem to understand he had done something wrong. “It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this”, it was the voice of a strange woman, a sturdy lady that had approached the animal shed without being noticed. She was beaming benevolently at the scene before her, but there was a devilish glint to her green eyes, “my name is Miriam Mead, I’m here to help.”

Taglist: @angel-langdon @blakewaterxx @burn-thevvitch @ccodyfern @certifiedmoth @consultingsnowqueen @crossdressingpirate-deactivated @ghostwithangeleyes @hecohansen31 @kalam22 @lathraios @laying-with-the-devil @michael-langdon-appreciation @mvllorylvngdon @mytrash-mylife @nuke-em-from-orbit @psychobitchtess @queen-of-quotes @rocketgirl2410 @rosegoldrichie  @suspirateux @tayfinities @touch-in-the-night @wvntersldr @xavierplympton

#American Horror Story #AHS Apocalypse #Michael Langdon #Mallory #Cody Fern #Billie Lourd #AHS Brontë AU #Wuthering Heights #MCA #Millory #Fanfiction #Whatever Souls Are Made Of

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB September Flash Week 2 Roundup!

And yes, this is like 5 days late, sorry about that.  Two days ago it was August, we swear....

Title: You Alone Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 1, T1 - Harley Keener Chapter 2, K1 - Defense Mechanisms Chapter 3, S1 - Rescue Chapter 4, R1 - Thoughts Chapter 5, A1 - Behind the Scenes Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, single parent tony stark, Omega Tony Stark, Alpha Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, Protective Harley Keener, Meddling Kids, First Dates, First Kiss, Past Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone, Panic Attacks, Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Anal Sex, Light BDSM, Multiple Orgasms, Knotting, Weddings Summary: Life as a single parent isn’t easy, but Tony is proud of what he’s accomplished over the last fifteen years. He has his own electronics repair shop and has managed to keep his son Harley away from his toxic ex. So what if every alpha he sees puts him on edge? Most of his customers are omegas, anyway, and he’s content never to date again if it means never again having to go through the shit that Harley’s sire put him through. Bucky is more than intrigued by the smart and beautiful omega who’s repairing his arm, but Tony smells like fear, and Bucky doesn’t want to make things worse. He has to put a lot of effort into making sure not to trip Tony’s triggers -- made doubly hard by the fact that Tony doesn’t want to talk about them -- but he thinks it could be well worth the effort in the end. Word Count: 14,938

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Title: 5 Worse Things Pepper Caught Tony Doing + 1 Better Thing - Chapter 3: Enjoying Company for the Evening Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 022 - Behind the Scenes Ship: pre-Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: (this chapter) implied sexual content, embarrassment Summary: Pepper walks in on something she would rather not have seen. Word Count: 2806

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Title: 5 Worse Things Pepper Caught Tony Doing + 1 Better Thing - Chapter 4: Sleepwalking in the Workshop Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 022 - Thoughts Ship: pre-Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: (this chapter) sleepwalking, protective JARVIS Summary: Pepper didn't even know Tony was a sleepwalker until she found him doing so in the workshop. Word Count: 3606

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Title: That Was Really Violent Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 022 - defense mechanisms Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Extremis!Pepper, cartoonish depiction of violence/death Summary: Just a little cross-stitch to commemorate Extremis!Pepper kicking ass in Iron Man 3

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Title: 5 Worse Things Pepper Caught Tony Doing + 1 Better Thing - Chapter 5: Testing New Prototypes On Himself Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 022 - Rescue Ship: pre-Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: (this chapter) Tony doing unintended harm to himself, cranky Pepper, worried JARVIS Summary: Pepper finds Tony testing new prototype weapons and body armor... on himself. Word Count: 4702

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Title: Window Art Collaborator: darthbloodorange Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 027 - Arc Reactor Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Tony said that Steve could decorate his art studio however he liked, so Steve painted the Arc Reactor on the window.

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Title: Forgot to Lockdown the Lab Collaborator: darthbloodorange Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 027 - Peter Parker Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: Tony thought he had locked down the lab… He was proven wrong when Peter walked in on his ‘private moment’ with Steve.

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Title: It’s Only a Paper Moon Collaborator: SierraNovembr Link: AO3 Square Filled: 025 - Vision Ship: WinterIron Rating: T Major Tags: Depiction of a mental asylum, established relationship, Edwin Jarvis Summary: Fighting aliens alongside Captain America? A loving, supportive fiancé who overlooks the many flaws of Tony Stark? Tony often thought his life was too amazing to be real.  He might just be right about that.  Word Count: 831

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Title: Here in the Aftermath Collaborator: SierraNovembr Link: AO3 Square Filled: 025 - Nanites Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: post-apocalypse, injuries Summary: Bucky really didn’t have any way of knowing that the nanites which had been allowing Tony to keep up with a supersoldier up until this point were failing. Tony didn’t advertise it, but they were a finite resource, and he was half-convinced that he was more bio-mimetic scaffolding than man at this point.

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Title: Getting Lost in Your Crowd Collaborator: PoliZ Link: AO3 Square Filled: 023 - War Machine Ship: IronBros Rating: Gen Major Tags: Rhodey POV, interior dialogue, A:AoU Party Summary: Jim reflects on Tony’s new friendships (and is just a little jealous) Word Count: 445

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Title: Happy Ending Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: AO3 Square Filled: 022 - Missing Scene Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff and Humor, Missing Scene, Post-Endgame, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Fix-It Summary: After the funeral, Tony and Pepper get a moment to themselves. Word Count: 450

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Title: Movie Date Collaborator: darthbloodorange Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Director’s Commentary Ship: Stony Rating: PG Major Tags: Art Summary: Tony is very disappointed that Steve is not paying attention to his favourite film, it’s the Special Edition with Directors commentary. It’s basically sacrilege in Tony’s eyes.

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Title: An Understanding Collaborator: darthbloodorange Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Sight Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Sexual Content, BDSM, Art Summary: Tony craves control, everything in life has been decided for him, everything he does, everywhere he goes. Steve wants to be able to let go of all his control, to let the mask of Captain America slip off, even just for a short moment. Together they come to a perfect compromise.

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Title: We Shall Be Monsters: Chapter 2 - Dead All Day Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: 024 - Adopted: Reincarnation Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: Mentioned Torture, Frankenstein inspired, reincarnation, rise from the dead, gross, dead bodies  Summary: This is your 6:30am Rise from the Dead alarm.  Word Count: 1370

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Title: They Never Went Further, They Never Went Back Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum Link: AO3 Square Filled: Chapter 6 - War Machine Chapter 9 - Touch Chapter 10 - Adopted: Intimacy Without Sex Epilogue - Epilogue Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: identity porn, vigilante Iron Man, polyamory negotiations, asexual Bucky Summary: Steve and Bucky’s truck breaks down while they’re out searching for the vigilante Iron Man. Fortunately, mechanic Tony is willing to offer them a place to stay for a few nights. Word Count: 26,893

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Title: Bad Dreams and Late Night Visits Collaborator: darthbloodorange Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Nightmares Ship: Stony Rating: PG Major Tags: Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Tony is woken by someone sneaking into his lab in the middle of the night… Word Count: 579

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Title: Would Robot Eyes Rust if They Cried Collaborator: Jacaranda Link: AO3 Square Filled: 027 - Peter Parker Ship: Stuckony Rating: E Major Tags: Character Death (sort of and only temporarily), Artificial Intelligence Summary: Tony has grown old while his lovers have remained young and strong. But neither Steve nor Bucky are willing to say goodbye. After an injury in the field leads him to consider the issue of his own impending death, he decides to preserve himself as an AI who can be just as ageless as his super soldiers. But such an extreme personal transformation comes with a steep learning curve.  Word Count: 5268

#tonystarkbingo #tsbflash #tsbfmiv #tsb weekly roundup #tsb flash week 2

[jjpmoans]

Broken - Part 4

Summary:

Love, as crazy as it sounds, really blinds people. You can see people blindly falling in love, ignoring those who really love them, falling for someone whom, they have sworn they will never fall for. Love, for Jinyoung is to watch his girl happy, even if it means it’s not him. Even if means it’s not Jinyoung who get to whisper sweet things. It’s not Jinyoung who can hold her hands. It’s not Jinyoung who’ll be laying down with her on her bed, talking countless of things. It’s not him that she’ll wake up to. It’s not him, who has her heart.

Genre: angst / romance

Inspired song : Heartbreak Girl by 5 Seconds of Summer

Character : Park Jinyoung x female reader

Word counts : 2k+ words

[A/N]

If you’ve seen the announcement, you’ll know that this is basically my first GOT7 fanfic which was posted on Amino. I apologise for the cringiness and all. I hope you enjoy the content! This is totally unedited (except for the grammar) but I’ll edit the Epilogue because that one was kind of bad. Anyways, enjoy!

Broken will be posted every Wednesday at 8pm MYT starting 21st August.

[Masterlist]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [Final] |

____________________________________

I know someday it's gonna happen And you'll finally forget the day you met him

____________________________________ "What are you and the boys doing tonight?" she asks as soon as she takes a sit next to Jinyoung. Jinyoung puts down the book he is holding and watch her looking at him intently. She is all smiling, her face. And there're no more dark circles right under her eyes. And no more pale face which Jinyoung suspects from lack of eating. She looks healthy. And happier. It has been three months from the last crying phonecall. The day she met Jin, Jinyoung followed her without her knowing. She really brought Youngjae with her. Jinyoung did not know what help would Youngjae contribute when she brought him— honestly Jinyoung was much better option. Or maybe not. She could take Mark instead. He got a better punch. He saw her talking face to face with Jin. And Youngjae just stood next to her so lifeless that Jinyoung even questioned if he's breathing or not. But his annoyed face was there— so he's definitely breathing. Like Jinyoung, the rest of GOT7 hate Jin and his friends — except for Yugyeom because apparently he has a friend in their circle. Well hate is a strong word,  maybe they dislike them because Jin and his friends are very good at breaking girls heart. But for Jinyoung, hate is the weakest word he could picture about Jin. He was raging and any curse word would not be enough. When he saw both of them talking and Jin was like smirking the whole time, it took his every ounce of patience not to barge inside the cafe and strangle the latter. How does she doesn't even slap him? When they finally finished talking, she had this calm face which Jinyoung recognised as you-cannot-cry-wait-until-you-got-home face. He sighed, of course he would be receiving another crying phone call tonight. While his thoughts were running through options to console her tonight, to his surprise, his phone started ringing inside his pocket. Then he realised that she was already calling him the moment she stepped out of the door. He fished his phone out and went for the green button where she spoke into the speaker furiously, "I don't know what's wrong with me BUT HOW DO I LIKE THOSE TYPE OF ARROGANT FUCKBOY?" she screamed into the phone. Jinyoung could clearly saw the horror in Youngjae's face when she screamed and kicked the flower pot outside the cafe when he chuckled at her response. "Well, I think that calls for some karaoke and food?" he suggested. "Call me in. And bring Jackson. I need his energy. And Yugyeom too. And Bambam—" "You should just say bring the whole GOT7. I think that is a less longer sentence." Youngjae cut in. "Whatever." she replies nonchalantly. "Jinyoung." she called him assure that he was still there. “I'm here, darling. Why?" he replied. “I'm such a stupid girl." she confessed. He laughed. Finally, his girl was back. "You are my stupid girl. Get out of that cafe and meet me at the field." "Jinyoung." she calls. "Yes?" "You are not answering me. What are you guys doing tonight?" Jinyoung widens his eyes, cursing himself for spacing out. He lets out a laugh and reply to her, "I think Youngjae has a date with Coco. Jaebum is up for a test. Jackson has a group discussion. Yugyeom and Bam— i don't remember." She hums, taking in every information he just told her. Once she registered all of them, she turns to him again with questioning eyes. "What are you doing tonight?" she emphasizes 'you' in her sentence. Jinyoung leans his head on top of the couch, he gives her a side glance before turning to her. "Well, apart from being alone in this house, I don't have anything else. Maybe a book date. What's up?" he asks. She takes a good stare at Jinyoung's face, thinking why hasn't she realise that Jinyoung is so handsome? She has been friend with him for years now— middle school to college. She even befriend his friends, the GOT7. But she never sets her eyes on him. Partly because she never take a good look at Jinyoung or maybe because if she did stare at him, she would not stare like a girl staring at her crush. But this moment she is staring at him, she couldn't help but to adore his look. She lets her eyes rake his whole face. His whisker smile, his thick eyebrows. His lips. His pointy ears. His black hair hanging just right on his forehead. Being friend with Jinyoung from middle school means she have gone through so much hairstyles Jinyoung put up on his head. But this hairstyle look so mature. It fits him so much that he looks so— boyfriend. "If you are going to stare at me for a longer time, I might think you are actually considering to make me your new boyfriend." he speaks. She jumps at his sudden intrudes but she laughs it away. "I just realises that you are handsome." she says honestly. Jinyoung and her has no secret to be honest. She is always talking her thoughts out. Like she thought that Jackson has a sexy body or that Jinyoung has a great peachy ass. She just blurt it out. "Do you say that to every single boy you are going to date? Because that works." he winks. If she doesn't know Jinyoung, she will think that he's really agreeing to a date. "No. Really Jinyoung. You are handsome. How come I never see you so handsome?" "Took you long enough to realise that." he flips his hair in cockiness. She laughs, agreed that it really took her long to realise that. "Obviously you are blind because don't you see how many girls are eyeing me in the field I was reading? It's disturbing." he complains. She did saw them. But she thought they were eyeing Jinyoung because he is reading. Well— in their college, it's hard to see a boy reading under a tree, his concentration is fully on the book. It's just new and interesting. "I saw them okay. I thought they just thought you are weird — which is true," she receives a slap from Jinyoung which she laughs even louder. "But I never see you the same way. At least not until now." she confesses. Really, it feels like suddenly, Jinyoung looks so perfect in her eyes. Call her stupid but she thinks that Jinyoung should be her first boyfriend. "You don't flatter me honey. Tell me what's up in your sleeves. I am not giving in to any of your antics. What do you want from me?" he asks curiously. She can't blame him though. He lives with 6 other boys who are always nice when they want something. If GOT7 are acting nice to you, please check your purse or credit card. They might already use up all your allowance. "Let's go on a date tonight." she says. Jinyoung blinks. He study her face carefully to find any prank she's pulling off. None. "Jinyoung." she snaps him from his trance. "What?" She moves forward to side hug Jinyoung and look at him expectantly. "Let's go on a date. I think it's been too long since we last went out together," so it's true. She's asking him out. A friend date but there's nothing happier for Jinyoung than going out with her. "Where do you want to go?" he asks softly. His hand reaches to fix her hair which has been a mess since she drops her head on the couch. "Anywhere with you." she replies. Her eyes show too much sincerity and reflects the happiness she is having, Jinyoung has no clue how swell his heart is by looking at her. God. He loves her so much. ________________________________________

Sometimes you're so close to your confession, I gotta get it through your head That you belong with me instead.

________________________________________ It's already September. One year from her breakup. Both of them are back being glued together, everyday and everywhere. 

Wherever she is, Jinyoung will be there. They are the talk of the college to be honest. There is even an unspoken rule where only she can end up with Jinyoung. If there is anyone who Jinyoung will date, it will be her. 

That is not really a concern for Jinyoung. It's true and he secretly thanked the crowd to rule this one because that stops all the girls eyeing him during his book date which irritate him to death. "Oh look! The campus couple." Yugyeom exclaims as he walk in the house and see both Jinyoung and his girl cuddling up on the couch, her head on his chest, scrolling her phone while there's a book in Jinyoung's hand. Both of them stops the job at their hand to look at the youngest housemate. "What brings you to disturb us at this holy time?" he ignores his greeting and asks him straight. "If this can ease you, there are 5 more people coming in—" the front door is greeted with boys noises, "— right now." he finishes his sentence. "Heyyy lovebirds." Jaebum comes in. "Yoooo campus hotties." Mark greets with plastic bags in his hands. "Why do you guys come home so early?" Jinyoung asks curiously. "The meeting is cancelled because the president wanted to see you, but you didn't come. So she lets us go." Jaebum says. "Wuhhhhh hi Jinyoung hyung and Jinyoung hyung's girlfriend." Bambam walks through the door, stumbling over the shoes. "That's kinda creepy. She calls the meeting off just because Jinyoung is not there? What is the meeting for? To meet Jinyoung?" she asks. "You!" Jackson exclaims as he struggles with the plastic bags. "Get off Jinyoung's chest! It's mine!" hearing that, she quickly tries to scramble off Jinyoung's chest when she feel his hand pushing her closer, not wanting her getting off him. "Stop scaring her." Jinyoung's voices rumbles through his lung. "Apparently, yes." Jaebum replies. "But it's good anyways. We got to restock the food." "Ohh. Hi soulmates. What are you guys doing?" Youngjae is the last one to walk through the door. He takes a seat on the nearest couch while Jaebum on his left and the others shuffling in the kitchen to organize the groceries they just bought. "You know about that 'When 40 people tell you the same thing, it might gonna happen' quote?" she asks. The rest of the boys nods, familiar with the quote. "If you guys make another 34 people call us campus couple. I'm not surprise if we really end up couple." she laughs. Of course they always tease them both about the campus couple. But she knows them enough not to take their words to heart. She's the only one who probably doesn't stoned when she said those words. Because apparently everyone stiffen and take a good look at Jinyoung. He himself is stoned when she said that casually. Yugyeom is the one who breaks the silence by laughing. "You guys aren't an item yet? Come on. Date already." Everyone knows Jinyoung likes her. But she's just too dense to sense. "I don't want to." Another silence surround them. This time, Jinyoung's heart drops at her reply. "If anything happens and we end up apart, I don't know how I can live without Jinyoung." she explains. The whole house echoes with awwws and hoots until she feel herself burning with embarrassment and hide her face in Jinyoung's chest. He laughs, hugging her tightly to his chest so that the boys cannot see her face. "I would never leave you. If that's what you are afraid of." Jinyoung states. "Ai wuvv myum pweas wow weave mwe," She mumbles incoherent words from his chest, which Jinyoung manages to catch as 'I love you please don't leave me.' His breath hitches, his heart thumping wildly at her mumble. Is that a confession? "What did you just say?" he detaches her from his chest. Her face is red which he assumes as an aftermath of embarrassment. When she opens her mouth to reply, disappointment greets him again. "Please don't leave me." "You look awful," Bambam greets him in the morning. He wakes up early and tiptoes toward the kitchen to be greeted by a messy Jinyoung. His hair is sticking out in every direction and his face look completely blank. "Thank you. That's so not obvious." he replies sarcastically. A verbal sigh escapes his lips and he shoves another glass of milk down his throat. "I certainly don't know what is your problem but there is a reason why that white thing is called milk." Jinyoung stares blankly at Bambam who tries to peel the glass of his fingers. "You don't drink milk in one shot. IN A HIGH GLASS NOT TO MENTION." he shrieks. "So I'd be forgiven if I drink milk in a vodka glass shot?" Jinyoung asks. Bambam grabs the milk carton and narrows his eyes to the older brother. "Drinking milk in one shot is not forgiven no matter how small the glass is." "You are going to stress him out. Stop that Bam." Mark walks toward the kitchen to join the two younger brothers. Bambam passes the glass and milk carton for Mark, not forgetting to glare at Jinyoung. "She's not awake yet?" Mark asks, sipping the milk. Jinyoung slides his eyes to the couch, where he sleeps with her last night. She's still there, cheeks pressed to the pillow and a blanket all over her body. "No. She's not a morning person." Jinyoung replies. "Tell me what's wrong with him." Bambam asks. "This morning he drank the milk in one shot using a normal glass. He could have died. Tell me I'm hallucinating." he whispers. "If this can assure you, I can hear clearly what you said to Mark hyung. You don't have to whisper." Jinyoung states flatly. Mark laughs at his blunt reply as Bambam tries to counter back. "I didn't whisper for you. I whispered because I want to." "Don't you think it's time to let her know that you loves her?" Mark cuts in. Jinyoung is staring holes at the couch and if stare can burn, the couch will be on fire. "I don't think she ever need to know." Jinyoung replies. He is afraid of everything. What if their friendship go down the drain because of his confession? "Why not?" Bambam asks. It actually irritate all of them with Jinyoung's persistence not to let her know about his feelings. He had been in love with her for years. But she irritates them even more. How can she be with Jinyoung but so dense to see that he loves her? "What if she doesn't love me? What if our friendship go down? What if she decides to hate me because I've been hiding it for so long and it disgust her?" Jinyoung's thoughts go out like a bullet train. It scares him to think that one day, she'll hate him. "Did she?" Three of them turn to the voice. Jaebum is standing by the fridge, arms crossed. "What?" Jinyoung asks. Jaebum tilts his head toward the girl sleeping on the couch. "Did she ever say that?" Jinyoung scoff. "Of course not. She—" "Then why are you assuming so much?" Jaebum's question throws him off guard. He never had an answer for that. "If she never said anything, then why are you assuming? Who are you to assume her actions?" Jaebum attacks. Honestly it irks him. And he wants both of them to get together. Certainly Jinyoung must make a move of he'll be stuck in the friendzone again. "But—" "Jaebum is right. Bring her out on date or spend your whole life drinking milk in one shot." Mark says. His threat seems ridiculous but Jinyoung knows too well that he's gonna stuck his whole life drinking milk in one shot if he doesn't try anytime soon. "Actually. I don't recommend drinking milk in one shot." Bambam tries to cut in. "It is certainly unhealthy. So please bring her out on a date." "We can help you plan if you want." Jackson says, coming out behind the wall, grinning while Yugyeom trails behind him sleepily. "You? Planning a date? No way. I'd rather Jinyoung hyung stucked drinking milk his whole life." Youngjae replies, emerging from under the counter. "How on earth do you appear from there?" Bambam shrieks when Youngjae appears. "You need to be more focus. Like right now." Youngjae signals Bambam to turn his head towards Jinyoung. He turns to see Jinyoung is already inhaling the milk, again finishing it completely in one shot. "Holy shit." Bambam, Jackson and Yugyeom exclaim. "He should be drunk by now." Jaebum laughs. He indeed look drunk. But his eyes are shooting heart and love as he watches his favorite person shifting under the blanket, rubbing her cheeks to feel the warmth of the pillow. ____________________________________________

[Masterlist]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [Final] |

All rights reserved © jinyoungmoans

Posted on 18th September 2019, 8.30 pm MYT

#got7 jinyoung #got7 jinyoung fic #got7 jinyoung angst #got7 jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung #jinyoung got7 #jinyoung got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung series #got7 jinyoung series #jinyoung angst #jinyoungmoans series #broken

[buckysforeverprincess]

Thanks For The Memories -Pt 3

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4493

Warnings: Language, angst

A/N: This is the end. There is an epilogue at the end, so I’m sorry for the length. Enjoy.

Two weeks have passed since your mom's funeral and subsequent argument with Steve. The two of you have kept things civil but haven't said more than ten words to each other in that time. Even though you should be ironing out details, you just can't bring yourself to have a conversation with the man without the memories of the past coming in full force and obscuring any progress to have a relationship with the father of your child. It's going to be a long road to forgiveness for you.  

“I can hear you thinking.” The gruff voice in the bed next to you says, morning not being one of his favorite things.

“Yeah, it's hard not to when I'll be leaving soon.” You turn to face him moving some of the brunette’s strands of hair from his eyes.  

“You're seriously doing it, huh? Leave us--me all over again?” Bucky's been hoping the addition of sex in your friendship would help to change your decision to head back to Atlanta.  

You’d considered staying, but things would get too messy, especially now adding in the Bucky factor. The distance would be good for you to get your head back on straight and figure out if Brooklyn would be part of your future again.

“We talked about this...us.”

The two of you had agreed this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement while you were here. But now with you planning to return back to your home, Bucky has been pushing for something more.  

“Uh-huh…,” Bucky nods in agreement, “we have, and I agreed to this because we both had an itch that needed to be scratched, but you can't lay here and tell me you don't want more.” He reaches out to you and puts his hand on your cheek. “Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll let you go back to Hot-lanta without saying another word of protest. Tell me...” Bucky's blue eyes are looking directly into yours, and you're lost inside of them.

“Bucky…,” you lowered your head to break eye contact with him, “it's-I just…” A heavy sigh escapes your lips and you need a moment to collect yourself. There's just too many bad memories to come from this place. You know you could never truly be happy here.  

“Steve was right, ya know?” Bucky interrupted your thoughts with the mention of his best friend.

“Yeah, how so?” You look up at him, curiosity in your eyes.

“His jealousy wasn't unfounded. Unwarranted, yes, but not unfounded. At least not on my part.”  

You should have expected this, all the flirting and semi innocent touches so long ago. Somewhere along the way, feelings became involved and here you were in bed with the very man Steve had been jealous of. Obviously, he hadn't been wrong about removing himself from the equation after all. Still, it wasn't reason to break your heart.  

“Look…how ‘bout this…” You sit up and place your back on the headboard, Bucky follows suit next to you. “I have yet to have a conversation with Steve. Let me do that-discuss how to proceed with James, and then I'll make my final decision. Ok?” It was all you could offer Bucky at this time, if things were to progress, he'd have to accept what you were giving.

“Ok.” He responds sheepishly, a definite change in the over confident man you were used to.  

“I'm not saying yes, and I'm not saying no. Just…maybe...what about Atlanta?” The question came from beyond any conscious thought you were having at that moment. You just blurted it out, not realizing what you were asking, almost setting yourself up for a huge failure.  

“You want me...to come...to Atlanta?” Bucky slowly gets the words out and you almost regret throwing the suggestion out there.

“I--guess?” There's a look of panic on your face. You really shouldn't have asked that of him. You don't even have an established relationship. Just sex. Right?  

“Won't you consider staying here? You have a house, friends...me, and it's a win for James.

Everyone the kid knows is here, and he can have the relationship with Steve they both want. Everybody wins if you stay?” Bucky has the biggest shit eating grin on his face and all you can do is shake your head at him.

“Let me think about it.” It’s all you can give him right now. Brooklyn really isn't your home. Atlanta is where you belong now, even though the brunette’s words ring true.

“Yeah?” Bucky smirks.

You just nod your head. “Yes…but also consider Atlanta, please?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Alright…,” you place a quick kiss to his lips and remove yourself from the bed, “I need to get

James from Nat’s. Shower?” You raise an eyebrow to him in question.

“Together?” Bucky smirks right back at you.

“Is there any other way?”  

The drive to Nat’s isn't long and doesn't give you much time to think things through. The past two weeks have been a mess of different emotions, and you're not sure which ones you needed to deal with first. Steve was the biggest issue, and you've been avoiding that topic like the plague. It's funny how everything starts and ends with him.  

After your fight, you went home instead of the dinner, and told Bucky everything that happened. He figured Steve had lied when he’d broke up with you years ago but chose not to get involved even though it burned him inside. Bucky kept quiet about his feelings and watched you go, but what he felt never went away and even though he knew Steve really loved you, he always hoped maybe you see him as more than a friend.

You turned to Bucky after your fight and the sexcapades began. Two full weeks of sex later, you began questioning if you really wanted to give it up.  

Then there was the Steve factor. What do you do about him? Every time you think about him, your thoughts revert to that night in your apartment. His words were harsh and cold. Steve wanted to hurt you and he did in the worst possible way. This wasn't something that you would easily get over. How could you ever be in a relationship with him ever again? The answer was you couldn't. Even co-parenting would be a difficult task for you.  

Pulling up to Nat's house, you were ripped from your quandary when you saw Steve sitting on the steps, like he was waiting on your arrival. You let out a heavy sigh, not ready to deal with him, but something told you avoiding this was no longer an option.  

Guess it's now or never, you thought, placing the car in park and turning off the ignition. Steve looks like he's already lost, holding his head in his hands. It's a look you haven't seen in him in a long time. The last time would've been when his mother died long ago. It appears he may be giving up the fight.

“Did I miss something?” You ask as you exit the car, and Steve looks up at you.

“Uh-actually, no. I was hoping we could talk?” The question hangs in the air, and there's no use ignoring this any longer.

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve gives a slight smile and nods. “Let's walk.” He stands up from the steps and meets you down on the sidewalk.

The two of you begin your walk in silence to the park nearby. It's a cool August day, which is remarkable for this time of year in New York. You never were a fan of the summers, but Atlanta isn't any better. There's no happy medium when it comes who's got the better summer. They both equally suck.  

There's an empty picnic table near the swings, and Steve motions over to it hoping you'll agree with his choice. Seems like a good spot to sit down and have a talk, and for the most part, the park isn't as crowded or overrun with kids as it should be. Even though it's location screams children, it looks as if you'll have some privacy for your much-needed talk.  

“When do you plan on leaving?” Steve asks as he sits down at the table, getting the awkwardness out of the way and getting right to the point.

“Well, I’d like to leave on Monday. I know that's only a couple of days away.”

Steve lowers his head and stays quiet for a few short moments. “And what do we do about James? I'd like to be a part of his life.” He says looking back up at you. There are tears forming, but none have yet to fall. It eats at you to see Steve so broken like this.  

“I’d like to work out a suitable arrangement. From what he says he's enjoyed spending time with you…getting to know you. I think it would be wise of me to continue to encourage growth between the two of you.”

James had grown fond of Steve in the two weeks he's had with him. Every night the five-year-old has a new story or adventure to tell you and they all revolve around time spent with Steve. It's honestly the kind of relationship you wished you would've had with your own father, but that man had other ideas about how his life should be. This was a good start for James an Steve…the promise of a great relationship between father and son.

Steve smiles at the positivity in your words, making him appear a little less broken than he had moments ago. “I appreciate that, but how will that work in Atlanta?”

You know exactly what he's getting at. It's the same thing the rest of your friends have been trying to convince you of since the moment you returned. Steve's going to want you to stay in Brooklyn and is using your son to sway his decision..

“Steve...Brooklyn--it's not my home.”

“Why? Because of me...because of what I did?” He frowns in anticipation of your answer.

“Yes.” The answer is short and needs no further explanation. Steve nods because he knows you'll never get over what he did years ago.  

“Will you ever forgive me? I mean...can we start over?” Steve questions are full of raw emotion, and as much as you wish you could forget and forgive, you can't. The night he broke you, his words were full of the same depth as his emotional state at this moment. The feelings are too visceral right now.

“We can start over as parents, but...I can never be with you again, Steve. That ship sailed years ago.”

You look away from your ex and over to the vacant swings, looking for a distraction. Why wasn't there a child on them that could hold your attention for a few minutes. The last thing you wanted was to look at Steve's face right now and see the hurt in his eyes.  

“So, how's Bucky?” The question brings your attention back to him with a curious look on your face.

“Pardon?” Acting as if you didn't hear it, but you know exactly what he said.

Steve scoffs and shakes his head, knowing what you’re playing at. He was always good at reading you, and he knows you were attempting to deflect in hopes he'd change the subject. Steve isn't as dumb as he acts sometimes.  

“I know where he's been lately.” Steve's staring right at you, challenging you to lie.

You place your arms on the table and accept his alpha stance, bringing your own brand of dominance to the conversation. “Good. Now we don't have to keep up pretenses.” Steve gives you a curt nod accepting your words. You lean in a little closer, asserting yourself and letting your inner bitch take control of the situation. It's time you got for Steve to understand his place and role in your life going forward.  

“My personal life is no longer your concern. You gave up that right six years ago. Now, your reasoning for relinquishing those rights were unfounded, but not unwarranted, as it was recently pointed out to me, but believe me when I say this, I NEVER would have acted on any flirtations with Bucky as long as I was with you. EVER! You chose to do what you did, and it hurt. It hurt a lot. You forgot that a relationship takes two people to make it work, and in doing so, killed what we had and can never have again.”  

Steve swallowed deep and looks off into the distance, a tear falls from his eye. You know this isn't what he wanted to hear, but you can't just act like the man didn't break you. Life doesn't work like that.  

“So, here's what I'd like to do going forward, and it's not up for discussion or debate.”

Steve lets out a breath he probably didn't know he was holding in, and relaxes himself, preparing to listen to how he has to handle the next thirteen years of his life. Or at least the eminent future until you're on more agreeable terms.  

“I am going back to Atlanta. That's non-negotiable. Can you accept that?”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair in a sign of frustration, but slowly nods his head agreeing with your decision.

“Good. You can call, text, FaceTime, snapchat; the internet-so helpful, and Skype the hell out of him. There's also no limit on how much you can come visit. Understood?” You raise an eyebrow daring him to veto your decision, but the man just sighs and once again nods in approval.

“Also, I won't sell the house. I was going too, but I will need a place for when I bring James to visit, and I will be bringing him to visit. Everyone keeps reminding me that this is home, and to an extent they're right. This home has some bad memories, and I have to work through them if this place could ever be our permanent home once again.”

Steve sits still and listening intently, processing what he's been told and knowing there's still more to come, but he won’t interrupt until all things have been laid out on the table. Then he can have his question and answer time to interject his feelings. It's just best to wait it out then start an argument he doesn't want at this moment in time.

“Lastly…my personal life is not your concern. You have an inkling as to who I've been spending my time with, and I give no fucks if that bothers you, but you will respect my privacy if this continues into something more. You also don't get to voice an opinion on my choice. If you do, you need to remind yourself why all of this happened in the first place. The actions you made set a chain reaction, and yes, I'm testing the waters with Bucky. Again, there’d be no Bucky, if I was with Steve. I will not share in any of the blame for how our relationship ended. That's on you. I won't ask you to support it, and I won't throw our relationship in your face, if we do end up together. All I ask is that you respect my choice. That's is all.”

Steve's nose flares a bit and he gives a huff, but he resigns himself to what's been told. “So, is there anything other conditions or expectations?”

“No. I think I'm being fair. I'm not hindering a relationship with our son, but I can't up and forgive you right away. That's going to take time.”

“Does that mean I get your number?” Steve raises his eyebrows in a flirtatious manner and you can't help but laugh out loud at him.

“Omg…you're horrible at this!” You’re both laughing now, and it feels good after such a heavy topic placed out just a few moments earlier.

“How else am I supposed to maintain contact? Guess I'm out of practice asking for numbers.” Steve gives you a sheepish smile.

“Better ask Sam for help...I hear Bucky’s unavailable as a wingman.” You wink at him and he winces at you.

“Too soon, too soon!” Steve says with a grin.

“Do you think I could keep James until you leave, that is-if you're heading out in a couple of days? I'd like to get in as much time as possible.” It's not an unreasonable request, letting them see each other before you take off.

“I think I'd be ok with that. Just as long as you help him to understand it's not a permanent goodbye when we leave.” Steve's smiling at the ideas of extra time with his son.

“I can do that.”  

A text comes through to your phone from Nat asking where you're at, and the two of you get up from the table, making your way back to her house.

“Just so you know, I'm really sorry. I know I can't fix it, even though I'd kill to do so.” Steve apologizes once more, and you know he's genuinely sorry.

“It did cost you a lot in the long run.”

“One other thing.” Steve stops you before you walk up the steps to announce your arrival to Nat's house.

“Yeah?” You look back at him hoping there's not another heartbreak in store this time.

“Give him a chance...Bucky. He's a good guy. I don't think he could've settled down before now...I think he has that chance with you.” Steve smiles softly at you.

“Does this mean you'll no longer be jealous?”

Steve gives you a warm laugh. “Fuck no! I plan on riding the jealousy train all the way to and from Atlanta, and twice on the day the day of your wedding. Even then there's no guarantee I'll ever get off that bitch and be free!”

The laugh that erupts is boisterous and loud, but it's the funniest thing Steve has ever said. Your ex has given his stamp of approval on a possible future with his best friend. That can’t be easy, and you know just because he says it’s ok, doesn’t mean he’s not hurt, but it’s a start and you’ll take it.

Standing there at the door with him now, was easier than seeing him standing at your mom’s casket two weeks ago. The things that happened in the past would always be there in your mind, never far from reach. Maybe one day you'd find it in your heart to forgive him, be friends and co-parent. Maybe once the memories fade and are replaced by new ones, would you begin to heal and could close the door to the hurt placed there by the blond. Thanks for the memories, Steve. One day-someday, you hope you can let them go.

Epilogue  

“Mom!” The voice yells at you, waking you from the sleep you had been enjoying. “Mom wake up!” You open your eyes and are met with the blond mop of your eight-year-old son standing at the side of your bed.  

“James...it's ass early o’clock…what do you need?” Your voice is deep and full of sleep and you just want to get back to the nice smut filled dream you were having before being interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I heard a noise!” Thank god it was dark in your room and he couldn't see your eyes rolling at him over his ridiculousness at this hour of the morning.

“Seriously, it was nothing! Go back to bed!” You throw your head back on the pillow hoping he'll listen and head back to his room. 

“Mom! I heard a noise! Downstairs! And it's dark! Come on!” The boy is pulling on your arm, trying to get you out of bed.

Fuck! No one ever told you parenting would be like this. Children should come with instruction manuals for all probable situations, or maybe even warning signs that say “you will never sleep again!” That would've been all the heads up you needed to not have one in the first place.  

Resigning to your fate, you slowly get out of bed and haphazardly make your way down the stairs, a scared James following behind you. If there really was a burglar, you were making enough noise to scare them away. The less conflict the better. Two a.m. is too early for this shit anyway.  

Reaching the bottom step, you hear a noise coming from close to the front door and it gives you a moment of pause. What if there really was someone in the house? What the fuck would you even do? All you have is your son, and it's not like you could throw him at whoever it might be in your home. Not unless you want to catch a case for child endangerment, and that was not very high on your bucket list.

Then you hear it...hushed whispers coming from near the door. Omg, someone’s here! Shit! Why is there no baseball bat nearby? Note to self, if you get out of this alive, place a bat near the stairs for future two a.m. idiocies.

There's a tiny whimper, and you know what that sound was. Funny thing...you don't own a dog, so what the fuck was going on? You turn on the light switch at the bottom of the stairs to find your husband and Steve standing at the entrance to your house, golden Labrador puppy in the arms of the man you're married to.

“The fuck is going on?!” You look sternly between both men who looked like they had been caught red handed, fingers in the cookie jar.

“Oh-um-hi!”

“Hi honey!” 

The men exclaim at the same time. Bucky trying to put the puppy behind his back, but it was too late. Both you and your son had already laid eyes on it and James was so excited, he could hardly stand in one spot, pacing eagerly behind you on the steps.

“You've got thirty seconds to explain why the two of you acting like imbeciles at two in the morning and what the fuck are you hiding behind your back, James!” You scold the men giving your best possible bitch face.

“Dude, she first named you. You're in so much trouble!” Steve laughs at his friend.

“Shut up, Steven! I'll first name you too! Tell me what the hell is going on?!” He lowers his head knowing he's in just as much shit as his friend.

“See, what had happened was …” your husband starts out.

“It was all Sam’s fault…” Steve interrupts and you roll your eyes.

“And we told him, no!” Bucky interjects.

“But you know how he is…” Steve fires back.

“Then Clint bought the first round-” Bucky gets back in the mix.

“And there was some guys bachelor party, and man…the drinks kept coming…” Steve is counting fingers, but you have no idea why.

“But then, I went to piss…” you wince at your husband’s words.

“And I followed too…”

Jesus these two literally can't do anything without each other.

“And the puppy was by the dumpster, in a box…” Bucky brings the puppy from behind his back and holds him out in the open.

“And I said… ‘James wants a puppy!’ and Buck agreed.”

The two men finish their convoluted tale and stand there in silence, puppy looking comfortable in Bucky's arms.

“You two went to a bar, got drunk, found a puppy and brought it home? Did I leave anything out?” The men look at each other for a moment thinking about your condensed version of events before nodding in agreement.

“Yep!”

“Definitely!”  

You exhale loudly and shake your head in wonderment.

“Mom can I keep it?” James asks and for a moment you forgot he was awake, but he was, listening to the fuckery that was his step dad and father.

Why did you agree to move back to Brooklyn? Oh, yeah…that's right! Bucky happened, and now this is your life. Your son, your man child, and your ex, slash friend. One big bag of dicks, minus your son, but if he keeps hanging out with these two, he'll have no chance at a normal life.  

The sigh that leaves your mouth is heavy and you close your eyes for a moment to compose yourself, taking that extra second to transition from tired Y/N, to take charge Y/N. It's time to reign everyone in, so you can get back to bed and let the smut dreams overtake you.

“Here's what’s about to happen. James…,” both your son and husband look at you since you didn't specify which one you were giving directions too, “you go to bed. I'd have your father tuck you in, but he's going to be assisting your step dad for the foreseeable future. I'll be in shortly to get you off to bed.”  

The blond stomps his foot, having a small tantrum; letting out a growl and stomping up to his bedroom in defeat.

“James and Steven…,” both men look at you, pleading with their eyes to take it easy on them. “take the puppy to the bathroom and give it a bath. Then, make sure it has all the necessary supplies. Once you've figured that out, call the Brooklyn vet and get it checked out. Steve will pay the vet bill!” You demand of the two, not letting either man off the hook for this one.

“Why me?” Steve throws his hands up; his tantrum could rival his sons.  

“Because you said, ‘James wants a puppy.’ Had Bucky been the one to say it, he'd be covering the bill. Now do as I said and take care of the damn dog!” You yell and turn around, walking back up the stairs. “Oh, and it needs a name. Figure one out!” The puppy’s still in Bucky's arms, happily licking his new owner.

“I forgot what a bitch she can be.” Steve says to Bucky thinking you can't hear him.

“Dude, she still hates your ass…and don't call my wife a bitch!” Bucky hits Steve on the arm and you hear an “ouch” come from the blond.

“Why does everyone in this family always hit me?” Steve asks as they make their way to the bathroom.

“Cause you're an idiot and an easy target. You set yourself up for this shit all the time.” Bucky laughs at Steve's realization.

“I almost wish you guys would've stayed in Atlanta. I was safer when you were gone.” Steve follows Bucky into the bathroom.

“I’m pretty sure you weren't. I have it on good authority, Nat has yet to extract her pound of flesh. She'll get you when you least expect it.”  

“Nine years later, and ya’ll are still throwing shade.” Steve shuts the door, preparing to help his best friend give his sons new puppy a much needed first bath, and filing this amongst all the other special memories that have taken place over the last three years.  

#steve rogers #steven rogers #steven grant rogers #steve rogers x reader #steven rogers x reader #steven grant rogers x reader #bucky barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader

[gascon-en-exil]

What's your favorite depictions of religion or religious characters in FE?

I think I’ve approached this topic from a character angle often enough between my series on FE’s faux-Catholicism and light magic and my post on Natasha, so let’s tackle this a little differently. Breaking it down by setting:

Archanea (+Ylisse, for whatever that’s worth)

Weakly and inconsistently developed, as is par for the course here. I get the impression that the original conception of magic in Fire Emblem was that it’s all some form of religion or spirituality, and while elements of that have persisted throughout the series it’s not really clear in Marth’s games that, for instance, the way someone like Merric perceives magical ability is in any way distinct from the way someone like Elice does. Why do the remakes make Wendell a sage but Boah a bishop especially when Wendell is decked out like a pope? Does it even matter when you can just reclass them back and forth? At least Gharnef’s Dark Pontifex title is pretty cool and manages to be so while playing up this confusion.

Ylisse is...ugh. Lissa is not a cleric in the religious sense as far as I can tell (a trait she inherits from Mist), Libra is all steadfast albeit generic devotion to Naga and tasteless trap jokes, Brady is almost purely comedy, and if there’s any theological element to the position of Exalt it escaped my notice. The only apparent organized religion in Awakening is Plegia’s Grimleal, which is just sad (although it does neatly explain the direction they took with Fates, come to think of it). 

Valentia

Really strong in Echoes, benefiting considerably from the colorful and variously fleshed-out personalities of the Priory characters. Following on from Archanea, I do appreciate that even in Gaiden the setting commits to depicting the game’s magical classes as segregated between the continent’s two faiths; you don’t fight mages or clerics in the main story, only the arcanists, cantors, and witches of the Duma Faithful. It helps better characterize the followers of both Mila and Duma according to their magical practices. We know, on the one hand, that the followers of Mila blend simple everyday piety and austerity with vaguely Catholic (Marian, specifically, i.e..devoted to the Blessed Mother) rituals that are implied to be normally more lavish than we get to see in-game, in keeping with the hedonism of the Zofian upper classes - and with Catholicism at its best, as far as I’m concerned. The Duma Faithful, meanwhile, are casually sexist and totally into cavorting with and eventually looking like monsters themselves, making it little wonder that lay Rigelians seem to be less engaged with their church than the Zofians are with theirs. As I mentioned previously, however, Tatiana is a problem. Despite being a worshiper of Duma (mentioned in supplementary material but I don’t ever believe in game?) she’s a saint just like Silque and Genny and doesn’t seem to be much interested in the severity or fanaticism of Duma’s followers at large. Maybe she’s just too distracted by Zeke’s dick....

Jugdral

Disjointed? That’s a good word for this one I find. Again there doesn’t seem to be an organized religion that covers the entire continent at the time the games are set, although the Edda church takes that role in the epilogue. Spirituality among the playable cast is subtle but varied, in part because Jugdralians are willing to deify not just the twelve dragons who empowered the holy bloodlines but also the Crusaders who received their blood. Claud’s a martyr figure, but for all his defining fatalism I still don’t find him very interesting, and then we’re never given sufficient context to determine what faith Safy and Tina and Coirpre/Charlot are even practicing. Maybe it’s the same as the Edda church - and who knows what that even means - or maybe it’s not. It’s telling how easy it is to overlook that August was allegedly defrocked for performing torture when there’s so little sense of what the church in Jugdral even encompasses. And why does Edain think that becoming a cleric will lead her to find her missing sister - do the clergy routinely perform missionary work? As with Ylisse it’s the dark religion that actually has its act together here.

Elibe

It’s taken a recent replay of Binding Blade for me to recall this, but the Elimine church plays a fairly significant background role in the events of that game. Across both games there are a plethora of Eliminian clergy from different countries and from all walks of life, and both piety and corruption take multiple forms in these two games. I’ve noted before that Kenneth is a particularly memorable one for me even though he’s a one-off boss; something about a bishop preaching atheism (or secular humanism in the form of worshiping Nergal, close enough) really stands out for the irony. There’s also the contrast between the lecherous but (mostly) heroic Saul and the greedy Eliminians who support the coup in Etruria and the alliance with Bern. Yeah, none of these guys are model clergymen, but it’s how they specifically fail in their vocations that matters (and anyway, it’s not as though we know for certain that the Eliminians have vows of chastity. They probably don’t.). The GBA games are also the only ones to distinguish between priests and monks, and although that’s mostly a mechanical distinction it’s not all that common among fantastical depictions of Catholicism. I assume Renault was a priest before he promoted, if he’s saying Mass and hearing confessions. What were the FE7 localizers thinking...eh.

Magvel

Not quite as competently handled as Elibe, which is something that may be said of Magvel worldbuilding in general. Again the main religion feels a little formless; it’s presumably based out of Rausten, but since all the game’s playable clergy come from different countries and none of them can support each other I don’t really know what to make of it. The most interesting bits I covered in my post on Natasha, mostly pertaining to her support with Knoll and how it frames the contrast between light and dark magic as the conflict between religion and science. Dark magic as an intellectual pursuit into forbidden knowledge is unique to the GBA games as elsewhere it’s framed as a competing religious presence, but seeing as Grado’s dark research figures heavily into the plot I can run with that angle. Riev needed more backstory though, for the insight into the operation of the Rausten church if nothing else.

Tellius

Begnion is culturally something of a mess, pulling from the Roman Republic, the medieval Church, 19th century imperialist Europe (mostly the Anglos and their obviously overcompensating empire), and probably also Japan’s deified emperors. Despite the overtly Catholic trappings of their clergy it’s therefore difficult to parse out just how I feel about the worshipers of Ashera. It doesn’t help at all that the primary examples of Begnion’s clergy we get are the senators, who are all various flavors of terrible people up to and including the prime minister who’s been orchestrating omnicide for the better part of two decades. Doubly so when the PoV character for much of these interactions is Ike, who hates anything related to rule by heredity because it comes attached to basic social etiquette. It’s also odd that the only other named clergy, playable or enemy, in Tellius are a pair of commoner priests with no status or influence whatsoever who just happen to fall in with what will eventually become two of the biggest armies on the continent. And also like in Magvel, Rhys and Laura never talk to each other outside of generic “supports”, so good luck trying to figure out what comparative theology in Tellius would even look like. The Radiant Dawn saint outfits are great, admittedly, as is Oliver’s theme though he himself is the epitome of a joke character - and a tasteless one at that, in line with all those tired jokes about pedophile Catholic priests.

Norshido

Why does Nohr not have a Catholic Church equivalent? Their dark mages double as their clergy apparently, not that we see any evidence of this among the playable ones. I don’t know enough about Buddhism or Shintoism to comment on Hoshido’s clergy, although I get that Azama is a comically terrible monk. I wonder what the cultural significance of great masters using lances while priestesses use bows is? From what I gather the former are more like Buddhist monks while the latter resemble Shinto mikos, but isn’t the naginata traditionally associated with women in Japanese society? I’m completely out of my element here...moving on.

Fódlan

Jumping the gun a bit, but there’s such a huge focus on the church in promotional material that I can’t help but think this’ll be one of the more thought-provoking ones, for better or worse. As quick as everyone’s been to vilify the church I still hope that the Adrestian route at least gives you the option to support it, or at least not make them wholly evil. Oh, and bishops are back, yay!

#Fire Emblem

[roman-writing]

Increments of Longing (epilogue)

Fandom: Warcraft III / World of Warcraft

Pairing: Sylvanas Windrunner / Jaina Proudmoore

Rating: Explicit 

Summary: The war is over, and finally things are coming together. An epilogue from Sylvanas' POV.

Author's Note: This story has been great fun to write. Thank you all for a good time!

Read it here on AO3 or read it below the cut

The girl was tall for a human and stocky for a mage. It was the first thought Sylvanas had: that she should have been a homey farmer’s daughter, not the sole Heir to one of the world’s foremost naval powers. It didn't take Sylvanas long to realise her first impression of Jaina Proudmoore had been staggeringly off the mark. In fact, it took less than the length of a single conversation.

For all her quick wit and cleverness, her veneer of bumbling, Jaina was tenacious and grave-eyed. She moved her face and body remarkably little, as if every hint of expression had to be carefully prised into view, as if she were trained to sit in place and be still while others talked around her. Worst of all, she had the unnerving ability of giving someone her full attention, as though she were disassembling them with her gaze, each segment labelled and arrayed in perfect detail at her feet.

Living with her that first year had been terrifying. It only got better slowly, piece by piece. Everything she did, everywhere she went, Sylvanas could feel that dismantling gaze upon her. Living with Jaina Proudmoore was like trying to hide behind a pane of glass that magnified every feature, every minute flaw. She would give away nothing of herself without it being wrenched from her hands. She watched like the audience of a surgical gallery, white-aproned and impassive and always taking copious notes.

There was no telling what her reactions would be. There was no telling what would make her smile or laugh, but then again Sylvanas never could resist a challenge.

Sylvanas found herself ignoring the opulence around her in favour of watching Jaina across the Court ballroom. Keeping an eye on her. Nothing more. As much as she might have wished to be standing at her side, engaged in conversation, Sylvanas sat, alone, none brave enough to approach her as she was now.

They had erected a throne for the Regent Lord at the very head of the triumphal procession. A gaudy thing -- gaudier even than the procession itself through Silvermoon -- all carved ivory and gold and rubies and garnets, and all together nothing Sylvanas would have been caught dead sitting on in a thousand years. Except apparently for today.

She did not sit on the throne so much as she splayed, leaning an elbow upon one of the ornate wing-shaped armrests, chin propped on her hand. Her other hand, tipped in an unwieldy clawed gauntlet, tapped an irate rhythm against the other armrest. Her ceremonial armour had been outfitted with heavy gold pauldrons and a velvet red cloak that dragged heavily behind her whenever she tried to walk. She had almost tripped on it four times today, and Jaina’s calm insistence was the only reason why it wasn’t in shreds back on the floor of Goldenbough. Sylvanas shrugged against the weight of the pauldrons with a faint grimace of discomfort.

Liveried servants paraded throughout the grandeur of the Court of the Sun, bearing golden trays that were laden with food. Sylvanas eyed one of the platters as it passed. Earlier she had tried eating the bite-sized portions to disastrous results, her clawed gauntlets restricting her from handling anything smaller than a goblet, and even then she had to take utmost care not to spill all over herself and paint herself a fool in front of an entire triumphal procession.

Someone broke away from the mingling crowd to walk towards her, and one of Sylvanas’ ears twitched. Kael'thas was dressed in attire no less ornate than his usual fare, but for his current lack of titles. He wore his ornately armoured robes with the same graceful foppery that always made Sylvanas’ lip curl in mild distaste.

He was holding a cut crystal glass in one hand, and when he came to a halt before her throne he sipped at his wine. “Why, don't you look grand, Regent Lord! And what a party! Though I do hope it didn't cost too much. Our privy purse has been injured during this war too, you know.”

Gritting her teeth, Sylvanas tried to sound as graceful as she could manage, “Thank you. I was only as grand as decorum allowed.”

“But of course,” Kael’thas flashed her one of his signature smiles, all syrupy charm that left a sour taste in her mouth. “I’m not complaining. Not at all! In fact,” he lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder, “I feel positively wicked being here at all. Do you know how long I've been dying to attend one of your little parties?”

“A lifetime, I'm sure,” Sylvanas drawled.

“Yes. My lifetime, in fact. And I must say: you have not disappointed.” As if in a toast he raised his glass to her, then took a dainty sip.

She smiled in a way that revealed too many teeth, but which only seemed to amuse him all the more. “I’m sure there is no shortage of people to lick your shoes even when you technically have no titles.”

“Oh, I’ve been keeping myself plenty busy these last two months, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” He even made a gesture towards her head as if he were going to give her a patronising pat, and her ears pinned back in silent dangerous warning. He only rolled his eyes and continued talking, “You’d be amazed at how much you can get done without tripping over silly things like titles and decorum every other second.”

Eyes narrowing, Sylvanas asked with slow suspicion, “What kind of things?”

“Well, what with your sister’s great military triumph -- truly spectacular, by the way, truly -- the Zandalari and Amani alliance is in tatters. You and the Lady Proudmoore have them on the run. You’ve expanded our borders south. You’ve ensured our people’s safety for the next thousand years. You’ve -”

“Get to the point,” Sylvanas growled. “What. Things.”

If anything, his smile seemed to widen at her irritation. “Why, the only thing that really matters, my most august Regent Lord: money.”

Sylvanas blinked. “Money?”

He nodded and took another sip of wine. With his free hand, he motioned to the throne upon which she sat. “War is so expensive! You know that better than anyone, what with the two of us constantly at each other’s throats over funding from the privy purse, an endless push pull between civic and military duties.” Kael’thas continued in a delighted croon, “Don’t you know how pleased people are to hear that -- now that the war is all but over -- the military budget can be pruned back? Why, I had a Marquess in tears the other day. Tears of joy, of course.”

The sharp claws of Sylvanas’ gauntlets curled against the solid gold armrests of her throne. “We’re not finished yet,” she said through grit teeth. “We’re still creating buffer zones. And the navy -”

“Is now under the control of your new pet, Admiral Lor’themar,” Kael’thas finished for her. “An excellent choice, by the way. Though it’s such a pity the Lady Proudmoore didn’t want to keep that position herself. It would have been an excellent symbol to both our nations.” Then he added in a low voice partially mumbled around his wine glass, “Not to mention all the money we could have saved.”

“As much as I hate to agree with you, I admit I said something very similar. She is -” Sylvanas paused, finding Jaina again in the crowd strewn below her dais. “- a far greater leader than she gives herself credit.”

Kael’thas looked over his shoulder, his gaze immediately alighting upon Jaina. With a contemplative hum, he said, “In my experience, young people don’t tend to have the best sense of self-awareness. Give her time.”

“She’s a human. How much time could she possibly have?” Sylvanas muttered under her breath. The moment the words left her mouth, she sat up a little straighter, darting a hard look in Kael’thas’ direction as if daring him to comment.

If anything, he was watching her -- and Sylvanas couldn’t quite believe it -- with a kind of softness. Not the pitying kind, and not with his usual superficial flair. And when he spoke it was the most earnest she had ever heard him sound, “She’s a mage, Sylvanas. And a powerful one, too. She’ll have a few centuries on this earth yet.”

Sylvanas stared at him. She had to shake her head slightly before croaking out, “What?”

He chuckled at her shocked expression, and lifted his near empty glass for another sip of wine, murmuring around the rim of cut crystal, “I had wondered if the rumours about you two were true. How romantic.”

She wasn’t listening. Her stunned gaze had gone back to Jaina, who was now surrounded by a group of Magisters, including Headmistress Elosai. Jaina kept her hands solemnly clasped before her while she spoke, and even from here Sylvanas could see a few of the other Magisters exchanging puzzled glances and straining to get a read on her.

Centuries. The word turned in Sylvanas’ head, over and over, until it lost all meaning, until she began to doubt Kael’thas had even said it at all. Centuries. A few centuries. How many was a few? She would have to corroborate this new information. If Kael’thas were lying for a laugh, then so help her -

Centuries.

And here Sylvanas had thought she would be picking out a mourning veil within sixty years.

Beside her, Kael’thas had returned to his usual air of smug self-assurance that never failed to irritate her. “I never dreamed you and the Lady Proudmoore would be so well suited, but I am absolutely thrilled to see how wrong I was. I’m looking forward to a few centuries of good solid peace.”

Tearing her gaze away from Jaina, she shot him an exasperated look. “And here I thought you’d still be pining after her, Kael’thas.”

He sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Whatever gave you that idea?”

She smiled, a sharp cutting smile. “Only that I know you propositioned her, and she shot you down like a lame pheasant.”

“As is any lady’s right.” Kael’thas returned the smile, though his expression appeared forced. “What a pleasure it’s been catching up with you, Regent Lord. I hope you enjoy your last three weeks on that throne.”

Frowning, Sylvanas asked, “What do you mean ‘three weeks’? You should know better than anyone that I’m abdicating next week.”

“Of course. Of course!” his smile broadened, but his eyes remained cold. “But you already know that it takes an additional week to file the proper paperwork, and that all official documentation being pushed through the Court will have to wait for due processing until the treasury budget is completed. Luckily for you, I already took it upon myself to finalise the numbers before your ascension, which means all you have to do is oversee all relevant administration of civic funding and committee hearings.”

A slow horror crept into Sylvanas’ stomach as he spoke. He tilted his head as if in a bow, but used the opportunity to whisper to her as if to a confidante, “You may want to bring a pillow to sit upon. Those hearings take hours. ”

As he finished, Kael’thas straightened, his expression suffused with a barely constrained glee at the look on her face. He pointed to a passing liveried servant and said, “Oh, canapés!” and left her gaping after him.

Her face faded from horrified to thunderous. Her hands clenched into fists atop the golden armrests, and Sylvanas glowered from her place atop the throne. She took note of how many royal guardsmen lined the halls, counting them and wondering how many would object to her killing their prince on the spot.

She was still brooding when Vereesa climbed the dais to approach her. Before Vereesa could open her mouth, Sylvanas asked, “Do you think the Rangers would support me in a military coup if I shot Kael’thas in the eye right now?”

Vereesa’s eyebrows rose, and she sent a surreptitious glance towards Thas’Dorah leaning against the side of the throne. She looked almost as resplendent as Sylvanas in her own armour, wearing a crown of golden leaves in her silver hair, and a triumphal cloth-of-gold cloak trailing from her shoulders. “I think they might have one or two objections,” Vereesa answered dryly.

“I like those odds.”

Rolling her eyes, Vereesa said, “Can you maybe hold back on the coup until after my triumph is over?”

“But it’s so traditional,” Sylvanas said, still glaring at the back of Kael’thas head, where he was entertaining a coterie of simpering nobles. “Don’t you want to be in the history books?”

“We’re already in the history books.”

“You’re such a killjoy, Vereesa. How are we related?”

“That’s a question I ask myself every morning when I wake up.”

Their banter was interrupted by Jaina breaking away from the group of Magisters and walking up the dais steps. Jaina’s warm gaze lingered on Sylvanas a moment before turning to Vereesa and greeting her, “Hello, Vereesa. Congratulations on the triumph. It was spectacular.”

“I feel like the procession should have included you in some sense,” Vereesa said, switching into Common.

Jaina waved her flattery away and continued to speak in Thalassian, “Oh, definitely not. I would have been so uncomfortable up on a chariot like that, paraded through the whole city. No, thank you. I’ll let you and Sylvanas soak up everyone’s attention.”

Vereesa blinked, taken aback. Sylvanas had to bite back a small smile at Jaina’s Thalassian. Neither she nor Ithedis had the heart to tell Jaina that her Thalassian -- while improving by the day at a truly mind-boggling rate -- was interspersed with rough slang that she had unwittingly picked up from her Novices.

It appeared Vereesa didn’t have the heart to tell her either, for she recovered quickly and replied, “I think if Sylvanas soaks up any more attention her head won’t fit on her shoulders.”

Without changing her facial expression, Sylvanas made a rude gesture with her fingers at her sister.

“Why are you so cranky today?” Vereesa asked. “Apart from the usual, I mean?”

Sylvanas bared her teeth. “You’re here. Do I need another reason?”

Before Vereesa could open her mouth to deliver a retort, Jaina cleared her throat and gave Sylvanas a disapproving glance. Sylvanas shrugged at her, but leaned back upon the throne. Her stomach growled, and she grimaced.

“Vereesa, can you stand here for a moment?” Jaina asked, pointing to a space directly in front of Sylvanas.

Frowning in confusion, Vereesa asked warily, “Why?”

When Jaina shot her an imploring look, Vereesa sighed and did as asked. It brought the two of them standing side by side before the lavish throne, so that Sylvanas was all but hidden from view. Then, with a sly wink, Jaina held out one hand. She snapped her fingers, and a few of those coveted canapés appeared, balanced in her palm. They were somewhat scrunched together, but otherwise perfectly edible.

Sylvanas gaze honed in on the offering. She reached out to snatch up one of the canapés, only to stop with a glare at her ridiculously clawed gauntlets.

“Here,” Jaina said softly, checking over her shoulder to make sure nobody could see before holding out a piece of food between her own fingers.

Sylvanas hesitated for just a moment, during which time her stomach gave an audible grumble. Then she leaned forward and ate the piece whole. They were only scraps, but Jaina hand fed her the lot, and afterwards Sylvanas sighed as she tried to wipe at her own chin, only for the pauldrons to restrict her movements so much she could barely reach.

Vereesa stared between the two of them, her eyes wide.

Sylvanas very pointedly ignored her, and instead said to Jaina, “Thank you.”

With a warm smile just for her, Jaina swooped down for a quick kiss -- no more than a peck on her lips -- before she straightened and said, “I’m going to pop out for a bit to have another chat with Elosai about implementing a permanent portal system directly between Silvermoon and Boralus, but I’ll be back in just a tick. Save a dance for me?”

Waving her away with an airy gesture, Sylvanas watched her go. When Vereesa cleared her throat, Sylvanas glanced up at her.

“What was that?” Vereesa pointed after Jaina.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sylvanas replied dryly.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy.” Glowering, Vereesa loomed over her, and with every word her face darkened. “I have to learn by official notice on the front that you’ve declared yourself Regent Lord? You leave me to clean up the mess out east, so you can go sailing off to Kul Tiras and destroy half the enemy fleet on a whim? And now to top it all off, you’re smitten with your wife?”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes and leaned back to sprawl on the throne once more. “Don’t be so overdramatic.”

Pointing at her indignantly, Vereesa hissed, “Just look at yourself! You’re literally draped in gold and scarlet like a minaret ornament! I could use you as a lure for dragonhawks!”

“You’re welcome for the triumph, by the way,” Sylvanas drawled. “It’s not like I could have put any idiot in charge, and they could have captured Zul’Aman. Oh, wait!”

“Don’t you dare change the subject,” Vereesa warned.

Sylvanas pretended to search the crowd. “Don’t you have a husband and children? Can’t you go bother them instead?”

“We are not finished with this conversation, Sylvanas. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“What goes on in my bedroom is none of anybody else’s business.”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s not just happening in your bedroom.”

Sylvanas bared her teeth. She reached up and tugged at the high collar of her armour to reveal the heavy bruising along her neck. “Fine. You’re right. Everything you heard is true, and more. Shall I go into greater detail for you?”

Immediately, Vereesa made a face and leaned back. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure?” Sylvanas sneered. “You were so keen to know all about what goes on between a married couple. For a moment I was worried you may not know, but then I remembered you have kids.”

“Alright. Yes. I get it,” Vereesa snapped. She sighed and rubbed at her brow. “When did this all start? The last thing I remember, you two could hardly stand to hold hands without either your little mage spontaneously combusting, or you threatening to court-martial me. Whichever came first.”

“I’m still leaning towards a court-martial, personally.”

“Sylvanas.”

“What’s the point of being Regent Lord, if there aren’t a few perks of the job?”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to use your title?”

“You’re not. I am. And I’m inscribing it in law tomorrow after all my torture sessions are finished.”

“More committee meetings?”

“Worse,” Sylvanas said. “Accountants.”

“By the Sun, I don't envy you. What happened to abdicating?”

Sylvanas shot her a dark look. “You don’t want to know.”

With a snort of wry laughter, Vereesa shook her head. She glanced to the side and did not look away, something else suddenly holding her attention. Sylvanas followed her gaze to find Jaina re-entering the main Court ballroom through one of the side entrances on the far side of the room. She moved in such a manner that the crowd parted around her, people making way for the Scion of the Fleet without even consciously understanding they were doing so.

Something about the shoulders, Sylvanas thought. Or perhaps the eyes. Jaina always could arrest a room just by entering it. How dignified. How utterly unreadable. It had taken Sylvanas months to figure out that Jaina’s expressions were comprised of the smallest details -- a tightening around her eyes, a twitch at the corners of her mouth -- and then finally to understand them.

It was almost amusing. Jaina would constantly complain about people staring wherever she went, and yet she never realised why.

“She looks -” Vereesa started to say, but had to stop and frown, looking back to Sylvanas. “- I want to say ‘happy’ but I honestly can’t tell right now. Happier, in any case. She is happy, isn’t she?”

“We’re fine,” Sylvanas answered. She had to tear her gaze away to look back at her sister instead.

“I know you’re fine. You look like the cat that caught the canary. Far too well fed, to be honest.”

Glaring, Sylvanas replied, “She’s fine.”

“Sounds like marital bliss,” Vereesa quipped.

Jaina was talking to Ithedis and his eldest daughter, now. The brigadier’s chest flashed with medals, one of which Sylvanas had bestowed upon her just earlier that afternoon during the triumph. An award for exceptional bravery in the face of danger while assaulting Zul’Aman.

“Really now. Be honest.” Vereesa angled herself in such a way that Sylvanas’ view was cut off, forcing Sylvanas to look up at her. “Is everything alright? Do I need to worry about national security because you two had a spat about rain or whatever that was all about?”

Just the mention of that time made Sylvanas have to shrug off a faint chill running down her spine. Sylvanas had spent the first six months of their marriage wishing that Jaina would show some sort of emotion, only to regret it the moment Jaina finally cracked.

It wasn’t perfect now. But it was a far cry from that day.

Realising that she had been gazing thoughtfully up at her sister and not answering, Sylvanas finally said, “It’s getting better.”

Vereesa’s eyebrows rose. “Now, that just sounds ominous.”

With a soft laugh, Sylvanas smiled. She tilted her head to look around Vereesa and instead continue to watch Jaina across the room. “No. Not at all. With her, it’s always getting better.”

For a moment, Vereesa said nothing. Sylvanas could feel her sister’s scrutiny, but did not care. Then, Vereesa sighed, “By the sun, you really are smitten.”

In a hidden alcove on the second-floor landing overlooking the Court ballroom, the sounds of musicians tuning their instruments hummed as the orchestra geared up for the first dance. Immediately, people began to clear the centre of the floor, revealing a sunburst mosaic in gold and white tiles, the tesserae glittering in a slant of sunlight through the tall windows.

The crowd parted, and Ithedis’ eldest daughter gave Jaina a gentle shove towards the dancefloor. Ithedis scolded his daughter, but she ignored him in favour of grinning at Jaina and shooing her towards the throne, where Sylvanas sat.

Vereesa stepped back with a bow and a smirk for added measure. “Looks like your dance partner is waiting, Regent Lord.”

Rising to her feet and sweeping back the heavy velvet of her cloak, Sylvanas growled, “Don’t call me that.”

By the time of their second anniversary, Sylvanas had finally rid herself of the title and was once again comfortably the Ranger-General of Silvermoon. To make a point, she arrived in Boralus by ship wearing only her casual leathers, and requesting that their docking be absent any fanfare. If she had to sit through one more obnoxious ceremony, she would scream.

Katherine was more than amenable, though she did make a note of it when Sylvanas and Jaina disembarked with only Ithedis trailing after them. After greeting them alone at the docks and hugging her daughter with one arm, the Lord Admiral turned to Sylvanas and remarked, “I almost didn’t recognise you without all that gaudy shit you usually wear.”

Eyebrows rising, Sylvanas looked at Jaina. “I see where you got your foul mouth from as well. Did you inherit anything from your father?”

“Good taste in women,” Jaina said primly as she took her mother’s good arm and began to walk towards the Keep.

Sylvanas snorted with laughter, and followed. Katherine shot her an amused glance over the top of Jaina’s head, but said nothing further on the matter.

During their last visit, the two of them had only spoken alone at breakfast on the last morning. Sylvanas remembered their conversation -- purposefully light and steering clear of heavier topics. Throughout the entire thing however, Sylvanas had the distinct impression Katherine was weighing every word, every expression with the kind of cold calculation that Sylvanas had come to expect of Jaina, but where her daughter only ever gave anything her full attention, Katherine Proudmoore had the facsimile of curbing her scrutiny. Like wearing an oiled cloak to combat the rain; the rain was still unavoidably present, eventually permeating everything, but momentarily stymied.

Even then, Katherine had probed for details about the ‘lengths of their relationship’ under the guise of friendly banter about her own marriage. At the time Sylvanas had carefully circumnavigated the conversation so as not to reveal anything -- not that there had been anything to reveal apart from one searing kiss, which Sylvanas had been desperately trying to not think about ever since its occurrence.

There could be no doubt in Katherine’s mind now, however. Not with Jaina strolling down the docks towards Proudmoore Keep, talking about setting up a summer home for them in Kul Tiras.

“The contract was clear: two years in Quel’Thalas. I don’t want to move permanently from Goldenbough. I quite like it actually. Which reminds me,” Jaina gave her mother’s arm a squeeze. “You should come visit now that the war is over.”

A smile still played across Katherine’s lips. “I’d like that, though the ocean will freeze over before you get me in Quel’Thalas during summer.”

“It’s too cold here in winter for some of us,” Jaina pointed out with a sympathetic smile at Sylvanas, who inclined her head, and over her shoulder to Ithedis, who stoically pretended to not feel the same chill that dug into Sylvanas’ skin even through an enchanted cloak. “And far too hot in Quel’Thalas for others.”

Katherine hummed, allowing her daughter to lead the three of them along past the various dock workers. “So, you wish to purchase a property in Kul Tiras.” When Jaina nodded, Katherine thought for a moment before saying, “Does it have to be in Boralus?”

“Would you prefer us not to be in Boralus?” Sylvanas asked.

With a dismissive shake of her head, Katherine said, “Not at all. I still have an old estate in Fletcher’s Hollow tied to my family’s inheritance. It’s mostly productive farmland, but the manor itself isn’t in use. I could air the place out and have it prepared as a summer home, if that would suit?”

“That would be perfect.” Jaina gave her mother's cheek a peck. “Oh! Can we see it while we're here?”

Katherine scrunched up her nose. “Only if you want to see a great deal of dust and cobwebs, my dear.”

“I hear those are the essentials of country charm,” Sylvanas drawled.

Both Katherine and Jaina shot her identical looks of exasperated disapproval that only made her grin.

“There's also excellent hunting down that way,” Jaina pointed out, adding, “And very little chance of any elven nobles trying to bother you.”

At that, Sylvanas’ ears pricked forwards. “I think that definitely warrants a visit.”

“I thought you might,” Jaina muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes when Sylvanas winked in her direction.

Even now, getting Jaina to smile or laugh felt like earning a hard-won prize.

Katherine watched the two of them without a word, striding along through the bustling streets of Boralus, nodding solemnly towards citizens who hailed them with hearty waves or cheers. As the docks faded behind them, she asked, “And how is that new Admiral of yours settling in? The dashing elf?”

“Lor’themar?” Jaina asked with a blink of surprise. “He's doing very well. Though there's not much for him to do, now that the war is over, to be honest.”

“Is that so? How interesting. If you ever find he needs more officer training, do send him my way. That craftsman exchange has been nothing but a godsend.”

“I hope you're not trying to poach him again, mother.”

Sylvanas lowered her voice in a pantomime of furtiveness, but not enough that Katherine couldn't hear, “I believe the Lord Admiral was asking about other matters regarding his -- how shall we say? -- availability.”

Katherine glowered, Jaina looked shocked, and Sylvanas could feel Ithedis’ reproachful stare. Both sent a thrill rushing through Sylvanas for entirely different reasons; the former due to a rush of adrenaline at the wild thought that Katherine might draw a pistol on her right there in the street; and the latter due to a rush of triumph at making Jaina's eyes widen that way. Any ensuing duel and diplomatic incident would just be an added bonus.

“Has anyone ever told you,” Katherine said, “that you're an incorrigible ass, Ranger-General?”

Masking herself in her most sombre expression, Sylvanas replied, “My sister. With every breath.” Then, because she never could get a firm grasp on the concept of self-preservation, she added, “And I think my wife already has an elven father figure in her life. Isn't that right, Ithedis?”

With delight, she looked over her shoulder to see Ithedis’ eyes narrow and his mouth thin behind his winged helm.

“Anyway!” Jaina tugged her mother along and quickened her stride towards the towering bulk of Proudmoore Keep rising above the streets. “Fletcher's Hollow! That sounds wonderful! We should go! Immediately.”

“I'll arrange a ferry,” Katherine growled, though Sylvanas could have sworn she saw the corner of Katherine's mouth twitch when she grinned at her over the top of Jaina's head.

They stopped at Proudmoore Keep just long enough to drop off their things, and for Katherine to arrange for a ferry to Fletcher's Hollow. While Jaina was talking to Ithedis back at one of the minor docks as they waited for the ferry to arrive, Katherine turned to Sylvanas.

Katherine reached around to fumble at a pouch on her belt with one hand, and Sylvanas was overcome with the irrational thought she might actually have to grapple a pistol from her mother-in-law's fist. When Katherine held out her hand however, she was offering a small package wrapped in oiled brown paper and twine.

Curious, Sylvanas took it but did not immediately open it. “What's this?”

“An anniversary gift. I heard you liked that whiskey I gave you last time.” Katherine hoisted up an amused eyebrow at Sylvanas’ sudden wariness. “Don't be such a little shit, and just open it.”

With a snort of laughter, Sylvanas began to tug on the strings. “I did like the whiskey, yes. It tasted like smoke and fire. You should consider importing it to Quel’Thalas. You would make a fortune.”

“Already in the works, my dear.”

Sylvanas paused. That was the first time Katherine had ever called her 'my dear.’ Sylvanas may have been tempted to believe it was a mere slip of the tongue, but Katherine gave the impression of always saying exactly what she intended.

Unwrapping the package, Sylvanas blinked down at its contents. A pair of simple yet elegant leather gloves, appropriate for travel and matching her casual attire.

“They’re lined in cashmere, and very warm,” Katherine announced airily, turning her gaze towards the water. “Last time I thought you were going to freeze to death.”

A crisp wind cut through the gaps in Sylvanas’ cloak. She immediately tossed the packaging aside and began pulling the gloves on. They were indeed very warm. Flexing her knuckles against the leather, Sylvanas said, “Thank you.”

Katherine hummed but did not turn to look at her again. “Normally I would have embroidered them myself. I used to enjoy a spot of needlepoint before my arm decided it liked swimming in the ocean more than it liked being attached to the rest of me.”

“I hear limbs can be fickle like that. Though in my field, it's normally the legs.”

That earned her a wry huff of laughter. It was followed swiftly by a dark glare. “If you're making a footman joke, I swear I will push you into the water.”

“Me?” Sylvanas feigned outrage. “After you've given me such a lovely gift, no less.”

With a roll of her eyes, Katherine turned back towards the harbour. “I see why my daughter is so smitten with you. She never could resist a good joke. Just like her father, that way.”

Sylvanas’ smile softened. She glanced around Katherine's back to look at Jaina, who had wandered off to a nearby stall to purchase roasted hazelnuts with Ithedis. Jaina was chatting with the stall owner, while Ithedis snuck a bite through the flanges of his helm when he thought she wasn't paying attention, only for Jaina to hold out the little bag of treats in his direction without pausing to look at him.

“I'm glad the feeling is mutual,” Sylvanas murmured.

When she turned back it was to find Katherine studying her from the corner of her eye. “As am I.” Katherine nodded towards the water's edge. “Come along. The ferry's arrived.”

The second anniversary celebrations went much as the first had. They greeted guests at the entrance. They walked around the room, speaking with key members of state. They sat at the fore of the congregation and were approached by family members as though by doting courtiers. Sylvanas forgot the names of every one of Jaina's many cousins the moment she shook their hands, so that Jaina had to whisper in her ear to remind her.

This time however, there were slight differences. More elves dotted the Grand Hall of Proudmoore Keep, their fair heads standing out above a sea of their shorter, stouter human counterparts. Vereesa was among them, talking animatedly to one of Jaina's distant cousins who had served as a Captain during the last four years of war. Her husband smiled alongside her, sneaking charmed glanced at his wife while their two children -- red-headed devils the way only half-elves could be -- snuck as many sweets as their pockets could carry from the buffet table.

Lady Ashvane was still there, looking thwarted and sour as she drank wine in a corner by the great fireplace. Jaina was the one to nudge Sylvanas’ elbow and point her out with a satisfied little smirk that Sylvanas wanted to kiss regardless of how many people were watching.

That was also new. Plotting how to drag Jaina somewhere private, not just to escape the dull party, but to indulge themselves in other ways they would not have a year ago. Jaina looked particularly striking tonight. Her sharp-lined military coat the colour of the night sky, bound in a green sash representing her House colours. Her grave-eyed gaze dissecting the room, only to soften when she glanced over at her wife. The near imperceptible twitch of her smile. The warm press of her fingers as she squeezed Sylvanas’ knee beneath the table.

When Jaina spotted someone standing nearby however, she pulled her hand away and stood. “Lord Stormsong! I'm so glad you could attend. I was hoping to have a quick word with you.”

Rather than wait alone and watch Jaina go, Sylvanas rose and trailed after her. Jaina shot her a puzzled look, to which Sylvanas simply smiled, offering her arm. Slowly, as if convinced Sylvanas were up to no good -- which was completely unreasonable, really -- Jaina took her arm and together they approached Lord Stormsong.

Dark-eyed and sombre, he gave the appearance of being tall but only because of his ridiculous hat, which Sylvanas was partially tempted to swat from his head just to see how short he really was. He bowed low at the waist, and had to adjust his hat as he straightened. “Lady Proudmoore. How may I be of assistance?”

“I understand you've been overseeing the exchange of Tidesages to Silvermoon, and providing accommodation for the elven Magisters here in Boralus, is that correct?” Jaina asked.

“It is,” he confirmed, clasping his hands together in the wide sleeves of his robes. “They have been living at the Monastery during their stay.”

Jaina's expression grew keen and sharp, as if honed to an edge by the slate of their conversation. “Yes, the Monastery would be perfect as an anchor, too.”

Somewhat bemused by that statement, Lord Stormsong glanced between the two of them, hoping that Sylvanas might give him more to work on -- she didn't.

“An anchor?” he repeated.

With a nod, Jaina explained, “For a permanent portal system between Boralus and Silvermoon. We need an anchor point for that kind of long-distance teleportation. Would we be able to set aside a spare room in the Monastery for that?”

Mulling that over, Lord Stormsong reached up to smooth down his moustache with one hand in a contemplative gesture. “Perhaps. We would need to realign the tidal runes protecting the city to allow for perpetual access. It may take a few weeks.”

“Eighteen and a half days, actually,” Jaina supplied helpfully, and her face grew bright, the way it always did when she spoke about a topic that aligned with her peculiar interests. “Provided we use a force of two Tidesages and two Magisters on each side. Half that time again, if we double our numbers.”

His head jerked back in surprise, and he had to reach up to stop his tall hat from falling off again. Clearing his throat, Lord Stormsong replied, “Yes, Lady Proudmoore. In which case, I see no reason why we can't implement this facility. Provided we acquire the proper consents first, of course.”

She waved that concern aside. “Oh, I've already drawn up the paperwork. Don't worry. So, can we start tomorrow?”

He blinked. “I was under the impression you and your wife would be returning to Quel'Thalas within a few days.”

At that, Sylvanas grasped Jaina's hand where it lay upon her forearm and said, “We can extend our visit as long as we need. It would give me a good opportunity to help the Lord Admiral prepare our second home in Fletcher's Hollow.”

“Of course.” He bowed again. “If you'll excuse me a moment, I see the Lady Waycrest is -”

“In the interest of conserving parchment,” Sylvanas interrupted before Lord Stormsong could depart. “Might I suggest an automatic renewal clause? Every new House Lord must give individual approval to such matters, isn't that right?”

“It is,” he answered with an even more confused frown than before.

“And when might that be?” Sylvanas pressed. “I understand that yours is a House of great mages, including yourself.”

“I'm not sure what it's like for your kind, being long-lived already, but human practitioners of magic tend to have lifespans extended beyond their kin. So, for this contract -?” He paused to think, before saying with a shrug. “Perhaps another two hundred years?”

With a smile, Sylvanas replied in a voice like honey, “Perfect. Thank you for being so generous with your time, Lord Stormsong.”

As he left, she could feel Jaina's eyes upon her, watching her with an odd expression.

“What was that about?” Jaina asked.

Sylvanas began to lead them across the room to make another send of rounds. “Am I not supposed to support your very important diplomatic endeavours?”

Eyes narrowing fractionally, Jaina said, “You are. It was just very specific.”

“What can I say?” Sylvanas leaned in close to whisper, “I'm a stickler for details.”

“You once told me that details were for infantry and big pictures were for generals.”

“I believe the expression goes: ‘Soldiers have an excellent view of the grass.’”

Jaina jabbed her finger against Sylvanas’ flank, making her grunt. “Yes. That, exactly.”

Catching Jaina's offending hand and giving it a squeeze, Sylvanas let go again. “Would you say you're a more powerful mage than Lord Stormsong?”

At that, Jaina stopped walking. With their arms still looped together, it brought Sylvanas to a halt as well. She cast a furtive glance at the people around them, before guiding Sylvanas quickly to a less crowded area along one of the tapestry-lined walls.

Jaina lowered her voice so as not to be overheard. “Why are you asking me this?”

Whereas Jaina kept checking to see if they had any eavesdroppers, Sylvanas could not have cared less about anyone else in that moment. The rest of the room might well not have existed. In the candlelight, Jaina appeared gilded, a glimmer of fire caught on the twist of her braid, on the epaulettes down her shoulders, on the smoothness of her cheek. Even grave-eyed and saturnine, she was still so young.

“I want to know how much time I have with you,” Sylvanas admitted, and Jaina's eyes widened.

“That's -” Jaina swallowed and continued in a mutter, “That's awfully morbid of you.”

“I'm being serious.”

“I know. And that scares me.” Jaina gave her a weak smile. “When are you ever serious? It's our anniversary.”

“Yes. It is.”

Realisation dawned, just a flicker across Jaina's eyes -- though that may have been the flicker of candlelight in a draught. Old castles like this were always so draughty.

Jaina hesitated, then placed her hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder in such a way she could smooth her thumb over the gleaming sapphire cravat pin at her neck. “It's not an exact science, you know. I can't -” She toyed with the pin as if pretending that they had ducked into this space so she could fix Sylvanas’ cravat away from prying eyes. “I can't give you the answer you want.”

Still, Sylvanas pressed, “Two hundred years?”

Jaina shook her head.

“Three hundred?”

“Sylvanas, I don't -” With a sigh, Jaina smoothed her palms across the lapels of Sylvanas’ formal Kul Tiran jacket. “How long has this been troubling you?”

Since I almost watched you drown and had to drag you from the sea, she thought.

“Long enough,” she said.

Jaina's expression hardened, her jaw squaring. She lifted her chin and said, “Well, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

For a long moment, Sylvanas searched Jaina's face. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the clink of glass. Both of them looked up to find Katherine standing in the centre of the room. Ithedis stood at her side, tapping a knife against a wine glass at her behest.

“May I have everyone's attention, please?” Katherine said. She waited for the murmuring buzz of a hundred different conversations to die down, before she nodded her head in thanks to Ithedis, who bowed and fell back a step behind her. When she spoke, she did not have to raise her voice for everyone  to listen. “First of all I would like to thank everyone for attending. This celebration is far more than a wedding anniversary. It is a triumph. A symbol of our perseverance in the face of daunting times, and of alliances -- new and old -- which have brought us all here today.

That being said: it is still an anniversary first and foremost. And so it is with great pleasure that I invite our honoured couple to lead us in the first dance of a new era -- an era of peace.”

As Katherine gestured towards where Sylvanas and Jaina stood, the gathered crowd clapped. The applause was a mix of raucous and polite, the Kul Tirans and dwarven ambassadors bringing their hands heartily together, while the elves tapped fingertips to palms.

Beside her, Sylvanas could sense Jaina's discomfort, the way her shoulders caved inwards slightly in a stoop, the way her eyes darted about as if searching for an escape. Gently, Sylvanas laced their fingers together. “How do I look?”

Jaina barely spared her a glance before muttering, “Like you always do.”

“Unbearably snobbish? Perfect. That's exactly what I was hoping to achieve.”

Despite herself Jaina snorted with laughter. She shook her head and allowed Sylvanas to lead her through the crowd.

Together they walked towards the cleared space acting as a dancefloor. The small group of musicians in the far corner were plucking their stringed instruments and piecing together the silvery ends of their flutes, one balancing an enormous harp and strumming it to tune the others. Taking their positions on the dancefloor, Sylvanas slipped one hand to Jaina's waist, holding the other out to the side. They waited for the music to start.

“I hate this,” Jaina mumbled under her breath, shifting her feet under the weight of every stare in the hall.

With a sympathetic hum, Sylvanas said, “Just one dance, and we can disappear for the night.”

An unmistakable twitch straightened Jaina's shoulders, and she shot Sylvanas a heated look. “Is that a promise?”

Sylvanas’ only answer was a sly grin, and the music began to play. They danced. Sylvanas led them through a series of steps that took them around the outskirts of the floor. Some people weren't paying much attention at all, talking amongst themselves, drinking wine and beer while waiting for their own turn to join the dancefloor.

Jaina did not stumble once, though she would glance down at their feet every now and then as though afraid of just that. Every time she did, Sylvanas would tighten her grip at Jaina's waist or murmur a dry comment about someone in the crowd, anything to get Jaina's attention away from self-conscious avenues. Eventually, they moved seamlessly together, talking softly, Jaina rolling her eyes at one of Sylvanas’ more inane remarks, but always with a slight smile playing about her lips.

Sylvanas couldn't look away. She could feel hundreds of eyes upon her, but that only strengthened the urge to do something brash. Slowing their steps somewhat Sylvanas leaned forward to murmur in Jaina's ear, “Shall we create another diversion?”

Unable to repress a shiver at the brush of lips against her cheek, Jaina asked, “What did you have in mind this time?”

“Nothing they haven't seen before.”

The song began to wind down, and they circled round to the last refrain. As the musicians played the final chords, Sylvanas stopped Jaina in the centre of the dancefloor and kissed her.

Jaina grabbed the lapels of Sylvanas’ formal jacket and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Her eyes slid shut when Sylvanas cupped the back of her neck, whimpering a soft noise into her mouth when Sylvanas pressed them flush together. Hazily, Sylvanas heard the sound of more applause, a few of the less than sober of Jaina's cousins whistling and laughing. When Sylvanas pulled back, Jaina's gaze was hooded and dark, her hands still fisted around the fine cloth of Sylvanas’ jacket.

The musicians began to play another song, and members of the crowd eagerly joined them on the dancefloor. Through the groups of people, Sylvanas could see Vereesa shaking her head and muttering something to her husband, doubtlessly unimpressed with her sister's public display. Meanwhile Katherine was hiding a look of dry amusement behind the wine glass Ithedis had handed back to her; she looked to be trying to encourage him to relax and have a drink as well, which he would be declining. Predictable.

As everyone else began to dance around them, nobody had eyes for the two of them anymore. Grabbing a firm hold of Sylvanas' hand, Jaina tugged her towards a set of spiral staircases hidden behind a broad pillar. “Let's go.”

The moment the door to Jaina’s old room at Proudmoore Keep was closed behind them, Jaina was upon her. She turned to pin Sylvanas against the wall directly beside the door, and Sylvanas had to fight back a shiver at the press of cold stone against her back even through the thick layers of clothing. The Kul Tiran styled formal wear may have been designed to combat the cool clime, but it offered no resistance to Jaina’s hands as she tugged at buttons and stripped off Sylvanas’ formal jacket.

With the jacket discarded on the floor, Jaina turned her attention next to the white silk cravat tied high along Sylvanas’ throat. Sylvanas pulled her up for a kiss, and though Jaina made a soft noise in the back of her throat, the kiss did little to distract her. She fumbled at the cravat while Sylvanas undid the many clasps holding together that damned admiralty greatcoat.

By the time Sylvanas managed to get the greatcoat off and Jaina’s shirt beneath mostly unbuttoned, Jaina had unwound the cravat. She leaned forward and began to kiss at Sylvanas’ neck, open-mouthed kisses that soon turned to teeth. Sylvanas could feel her own breathing quicken. She had to stifle a gasp when Jaina bit down, leaving a trail of bruises along Sylvanas’ neck to rival the ones on her own.

Sylvanas tilted her head back. Jaina tugged at Sylvanas’ shirt forcefully enough that one of the buttons tore free.

“I liked that shirt,” Sylvanas said.

“Sorry,” Jaina mumbled against her throat. It did not stop her from continuing to undo Sylvanas’ shirt with trembling hands, pulling it from where it was tucked into her high-waisted breeches.

With a chuckle, Sylvanas kissed her cheek. “I was teasing.”

“That’s good,” Jaina said breathlessly even as she yanked the shirt from Sylvanas’ shoulders and down her arms until she could drop it to the floor atop her now crumpled formal jacket. “Tides, I want you.”

Something constricted, tight, in Sylvanas’ chest. Jaina kissed her, and the feeling only worsened, winding itself inwards like silk spun round a spool. She grabbed a fistful of Jaina’s hair with one hand and kissed her until she whimpered into Sylvanas’ mouth. She got Jaina’s shirt off, and ran her fingers beneath the hemline of her breeches until she could feel Jaina tense against her. When Sylvanas reached down to rake her nails against Jaina’s inner thigh, Jaina had to break the kiss with a gasp.

Movements rushed, Jaina started to unlace Sylvanas’ breeches, but froze. Her eyes opened wide, and she glanced down between them.

“Are you -?” Her hand explored the edges of an unexpected bulge in Sylvanas’ breeches.

Sylvanas studied Jaina’s expression carefully -- something bordering on curiosity and fascination. “You asked about this a few times, and we discussed you wanting to try it.”

“Yes, I -” Clearing her throat, Jaina’s fingers hesitated at the laces of her breeches before she began to tug them loose. “I remember.”

Stepping away from the wall, Sylvanas herded Jaina across the room. While Jaina fumbled with the laces, Sylvanas distracted her with intermittent kisses, ducking her head to mouth at Jaina’s neck and chest, pulling her braid free of its ties and combing it loose, pushing Jaina’s breeches down her legs so she could step out of them -- almost tripping on the way.

With a huff of laughter, Sylvanas caught her, arms around Jaina’s waist. She could feel Jaina smiling into the next kiss, and she took the opportunity to run her fingers along the slickness between Jaina’s thighs until Jaina’s hands were trembling so badly she had to close her eyes and break the kiss to gather herself. Sylvanas circled around her clit, and Jaina’s hips jerked.

Jaina traced the waistband of Sylvanas’ breeches and asked breathlessly, “Can I take these off?”

Removing her own hand from between Jaina’s legs, Sylvanas nodded. She sat on the edge of the bed, feet splayed, and looked up at Jaina with an expectant expression. Jaina had to bend over to pull the breeches down Sylvanas’ legs, the dark cloth far more sombre than anything Sylvanas would have worn in Quel’Thalas, but which made her appear at home in the dreary castle halls of Proudmoore Keep. Kul Tiran formal dress always felt so restrictive, though not nearly as much as her Regent Lord attire, which Sylvanas had given back to the Council the moment she was able.

Holding Sylvanas’ breeches in her hands, Jaina looked down at her. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw the size of the toy, but Jaina appeared more inquisitive than anything else. She studied the harness that looped around Sylvanas’ waist and upper thighs as if the first thing she were going to want was for Sylvanas to take it off just to show her how it worked.

Sylvanas moved back along the bed until she was resting against the headboard, reaching behind herself to arrange a few pillows. She heard Jaina drop the breeches to the ground just as she settled herself back into place.

“It looks -” Jaina snorted, covering her mouth with one hand. “- I’m sorry. It’s a bit ridiculous.”

“No offense taken.”

As if to make a point, Sylvanas laced her fingers behind her head, resting comfortably against the pillows. When she bent one of her knees out at an angle to sprawl, the toy curved back until its tip was resting almost against her stomach. Jaina’s eyes followed the movement, and Sylvanas could see her throat work as she swallowed.

Softening her voice, Sylvanas reminded her, “If you’re uncomfortable, I am more than happy to get rid of it and do something that you’re actually comfortable with.”

At that, Jaina’s gaze hardened and she met Sylvanas’ eyes with a look of fierce determination. “No, I want to try. I’m always willing to try something once to see if I like it.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then at least I know, and I’ve paid for a new experience,” Jaina said, very matter of fact about the whole affair, as if explaining one of her complex mathematics problems.

Sylvanas smiled. “Fair enough.”

For a moment Jaina said nothing. She took off her pendant and set it aside. Her eyes would drift down Sylvanas’ naked body, stop at the toy with curiosity, and then move on, but always returning to the new addition. Finally, she said, “You’ll tell me what to do?”

“If you’d like.” Holding out one hand Sylvanas pointed, “There’s a vial in that case over there. Grab it for me, won’t you?”

Jaina did so, turning over the glass vial in her hands as she returned to the bed. “Lubricant? I don’t think we’ll need this,” she said, then glanced at the harness with a considering expression. “Not too much, anyway.”

“You’ll need it.” Sylvanas crooked her fingers and motioned Jaina forward. “Come here.”

Hesitating just for a second, Jaina crawled across the mattress. She knelt beside Sylvanas, handing her the vial while she continued to study the harness. She pulled one of the straps back, trying to peek at the rest of the contraption. “Is it inside of you, too?”

Sylvanas unstoppered the vial. “No. Though there are designs that allow for that.”

“Hmm.” Jaina pulled back her hand and tapped at her chin. “You know, I could probably find a way to conduct increased feeling across a design like that. A spirit rune, perhaps? Needs more substance, though. Mixed with a druidic life-transference ward? That might work. Oh! Can I do that?”

Pausing, Sylvanas looked up to realise that Jaina was pointing at the opened vial. With a wordless shrug, she handed it over to Jaina, who poured a generous amount of lubricant into the palm of her hand before giving the vial back. Sylvanas stoppered it and set it aside, leaning over to place it on one of the bedside tables.

“Does this go on there or -?” Jaina pointed at herself.

With a small smile, Sylvanas answered, “Yes.”

Shaking her head with a huff of laughter, Jaina reached down to smear the toy with lubricant. She measured it with one hand, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and moving up to circle its tip, pausing to brush her thumb against bumps and ridges set into the design for a touch of realism. Sylvanas knew that it would still be warm to the touch from wearing it against her skin all night, its material firm yet giving almost like real flesh.  

For a moment Sylvanas watched the movements of Jaina’s slick fingers, her mouth going dry, before she ran her hand up Jaina’s arm. “Kiss me.”

Swinging one leg over to straddle her waist first, Jaina leaned forward for a kiss. Her cheeks were already flushed in anticipation, her mouth warm as Sylvanas kissed her. A needy whimper escaped Jaina when the length of the toy pressed against her inner thigh, and she pulled back slightly to inhale a shaky breath when Sylvanas palmed her breast. Sylvanas watched fixedly as Jaina reached down and faltered only for a moment as she positioned the tip of the toy against her entrance before lowering herself upon it.

“Take it slow,” Sylvanas murmured, studying every flicker in Jaina’s expression.

Jaina’s eyes flashed with that spark of tenacity again, as if a particularly challenging mental puzzle had been left in her path and she could not help but solve it. Sylvanas placed her hands on Jaina’s waist as she sank down fully, only for her brows to knit at the new sensation in a wince.

Sylvanas tightened her hold on Jaina’s waist. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Jaina breathed. She adjusted herself before sinking down once more with a sigh. “That’s better.”

Sylvanas remained propped against the headboard. She tilted her head back, searching Jaina’s face for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m not going to break,” Jaina said.

“I know,” Sylvanas murmured.

For a second Jaina seemed at a loss for what to do with her hands, and Sylvanas said, “You can put them on my shoulders.”

Jaina started to do so, but paused to wipe her sticky hand on the sheet beneath them. Then she steadied herself on Sylvanas’ shoulders, brushing back some of her pale gold hair to reveal the bruises along Sylvanas’ neck. She seemed to admire her handiwork, trailing her fingertips around the blemishes. Sylvanas shifted beneath her, just enough to drag Jaina’s attention back to herself instead.

Jaina’s eyelids fluttered, and she gripped Sylvanas’ shoulders more firmly. Experimentally, Jaina rocked forward on her knees, then lowered herself back down until she was seated on Sylvanas’ lap, spread by the girth of the toy again and again. Sylvanas forced herself to be still, to let Jaina set the pace. She had to tamp down the urge to do anything more than gently grasp Jaina’s waist and whisper a word or two of encouragement.

The first motion she made was to lean up and kiss Jaina’s bared throat, and Jaina tipped her head to the side. When Jaina rocked forward again, Sylvanas pulled at her hips, urging the movement on, so that she could feel the gasp beneath her mouth. She branded Jaina’s neck and chest with small bites before sitting back.

“Having fun?” Sylvanas asked, allowing herself a grin at the way Jaina's eyes had glazed over.

Biting her lower lip to stifle a whimper when she rolled her hips again, Jaina nodded.

“Excellent. You're beautiful like this, you know.”

Sylvanas trailed one hand up the soft skin of Jaina's stomach, between her breasts, then to her chin, stroking the pad of her thumb against Jaina's lower lip until her mouth parted in a sigh. Her own breath caught when Jaina ran her tongue against her fingers before nipping at them.

In retaliation, Sylvanas shifted her feet, flexed her calves and ground her hips up so that Jaina rocked against her with a jolt. A soft moan escaped Jaina at that, and she ducked her head to grip Sylvanas’ shoulders tighter, fingers digging into golden skin.

“Can you do that again, please?” Jaina asked, sounding winded, as if she had just run up a flight of stairs.

“Slowly,” Sylvanas reminded her. “I don't want this to be over too soon.”

Jaina's answer was to grind herself down harder into Sylvanas’ lap. She grabbed the back of Sylvanas’ neck with one hand and brought their mouths together for a desperate kiss, whining into it when Sylvanas thrust up into her again.

“Please,” Jaina mumbled against her lips, her eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, please please please -”

Reaching down between them, Sylvanas dragged her hand up one thigh until she stroked her thumb against Jaina's clit. Jaina dropped her forehead to one of Sylvanas’ shoulders. She panted when Sylvanas drew circles with her thumb timed along to their movements, bucking her hips with a whimper every time the shaft was hilted inside of her. Fingernails clawed at Sylvanas’ back, drawing a hiss from her. The bed creaked, and Jaina muffled a cry into Sylvanas’ shoulder, shuddering to a halt.

Wrapping her arms around Jaina's waist, Sylvanas held her close. She kissed the space just beneath her ear. She ignored the furnace burning in the cradle of her own hips, and instead traced senseless soothing patterns across Jaina's lower back, waiting for her to stop shaking.

It happened far more quickly than she had been expecting. Jaina recovered, but did not get off of her or pull the toy free. Rather, she leaned back, pausing to kiss Sylvanas as she did so. Then she began to comb her fingers through Sylvanas’ hair.

“Sorry about your back,” Jaina said softly.

Sylvanas sat low against the headboard, allowing her legs to sprawl a bit without dislodging Jaina from where she sat. “Trust me, I did not mind. Far from it.”

“I'd -” Jaina cleared her throat, and Sylvanas watched in fascination as a flush spread briefly across her face. “I'd like you to go harder next time.” Her eyes flashed. “I told you: I won't break.”

Eyebrows rising, Sylvanas smoothed her palms from the tops of Jaina's thighs to her knees and back again. “Next time, then.”

For a long moment, Jaina said nothing. She studied Sylvanas with another one of her myriad inscrutable expressions, as if trying to peel back Sylvanas’ skin to see all the sinews that held her together.

“Do you remember our last visit to Boralus?” Jaina asked without preamble, and as she did so she cupped Sylvanas’ breast.

She circled Sylvanas’ nipple with her thumb, then dragged her hand down Sylvanas’ stomach, lightly scratching with her blunted fingernails. Sylvanas’ stomach twitched away from the feeling. She watched, rapt, as Jaina continued to move her hand down until she traced the lines of the harness against her bare skin, roving from Sylvanas’ hip to the rough patch of pubic hair between her legs. There, the harness trapped between them was coated in a pool of wetness that had dripped from Jaina just earlier.

Sylvanas’ voice sounded hoarse to her own ears as she replied, “I do.”

Lifting the harness away just enough to stroke her fingers between it at Sylvanas’ skin, Jaina said, “I didn’t know what to do with myself after you left that night. I went to bed but couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I  tried. What did you do?”

“I -”

Sylvanas had to pause to swallow, when Jaina worked just the tips of a few fingers down to stroke against her. It could not have been a comfortable angle with her hand turned like that, but she managed to graze against the slickness between Sylvanas’ thighs. It was just enough contact -- the ghost of a touch -- that Sylvanas tensed and grit her teeth.

“I went downstairs,” Sylvanas finally answered. When Jaina stroked her fingers again, Sylvanas had to close her eyes and bite back a gasp. “I waited for hours in one of the side rooms with a dying fire until I was sure you would be asleep.”

It was not a lie. Not wholly. Sylvanas did not have the courage to tell Jaina how she had touched herself, muffling sounds behind clenched teeth, in that moment desperately wanting and desperate to be wanted, but unable to satisfy either.

The omission did not seem to pass Jaina by, for her eyes flickered across Sylvanas’ face, dissecting the information from her with that same old surgical precision. She leaned down until she was crouching over Sylvanas, until she could nudge back Sylvanas’ chin and rake her teeth across a bared throat, until Sylvanas groaned and ground up into her.

In response, Jaina gripped her hands into fists, the sheets spilling between her fingers. She turned her head to murmur in Sylvanas’ ear, “Probably for the best. I would have let you do anything to me that night.”

She nipped at Sylvanas’ ear, and Sylvanas went rigid. Jaina started to lean away, but Sylvanas grabbed her by the back of her neck to yank her back down for a kiss that was all teeth and fire. Jaina inhaled sharply in momentary shock, but returned the kiss with as much fervour as she could muster.

Sitting up, Sylvanas tore her mouth away and growled, “Tell me if it's too much.”

She waited for Jaina's nod of understanding and assent. Then, she hooked her leg around and rolled Jaina to the side in a surge of movement. Briefly she saw Jaina's eyes widen as Sylvanas slipped out from beneath her and pressed her against the sheets, face down.

She had fantasised about this and any number of obscenities she could imagine that night exactly a year ago. Crowding Jaina into a dark corner of the Keep and clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle her as guardsmen patrolled around a nearby corner. Pushing her onto one of the chairs by the fire and kneeling at her feet while the flames warmed her back and Jaina tugged at her hair. Having Jaina descend into a writhing sobbing mess beneath her, only to ask for more. Thinking that it would never happen, knowing that anything between them at that time would only be regretted and resented later.

Nudging apart Jaina's legs with her knees, Sylvanas positioned herself behind her. Jaina tensed and grabbed one of the pillows, while Sylvanas slid the shaft back inside her. There was no resistance; Jaina was drenched. There was no word for her to stop either, though Sylvanas was waiting for it with bated breath. Jaina only groaned a wordless curse as Sylvanas buried the shaft to the hilt in a single motion.

Sylvanas repeated the motion, forcing noises from Jaina with every thrust. She gripped Jaina's thighs tightly enough to bruise, and brought their hips together hard enough that she was pressed against the mattress. Bearing down over her, Sylvanas sank her teeth into the curve of Jaina's shoulder. Every cry spurred on another merciless thrust until Jaina was shivering and sweating, until Sylvanas was snarling into the crook of her neck, fangs bared.

“Stop.”

The single word was gasped into a pillow. Immediately, Sylvanas froze. Jaina had her eyes squeezed shut, and was panting into the pillow clenched in her fists. Sylvanas started to pull back, but Jaina grabbed her hand.

“I didn't say pull out, I just -” Jaina drew in a shuddering breath. “I just need a moment.”

“Sorry,” Sylvanas rasped, going as still as she was able.

She held herself crouched over Jaina, her arms trembling. Bowing her head Sylvanas gently kissed where she had bitten before, brushing her lips across bruised skin, across Jaina's shoulders and the back of her neck.

After a while of tense silence broken only by the sound of their harsh breathing, Jaina let go of Sylvanas’ hand and said, “Ok. Can you -?” She paused to swallow. “- Can you start off slow and then build up again?”

Sylvanas nodded against Jaina's back. She kissed along the ridge of Jaina's spine as she pushed herself further upright. Grasping Jaina by the waist, she brought them flush together, filling Jaina once more. She could feel Jaina go tense beneath her, could hear the hitch of breath.

Sylvanas rubbed a soothing hand at the small of Jaina's back. “Keep going?”

Jaina nodded, shifting slightly so that she was propped up on her elbows. The movement meant she pressed back, and Sylvanas readjusted her own knees for better leverage.

Starting off slow, Sylvanas steadied herself with her hands at Jaina's waist. She pulled back until the length of the shaft nearly slipped out, then rocked forward in a smooth motion that made Jaina choke on a low moan. Again, and Jaina gripped the sheets in a white-knuckled grasp. Again, and she leaned back to meet the steady thrust of Sylvanas’ hips.

The rhythm built between them. At first it was a conscious thing -- Sylvanas carefully measuring each stroke, listening and watching for cues, for little whimpers, and for the furrow in Jaina's brow when she turned her head against the pillow. With every encouraging gasp and muttered curse however, Sylvanas found the rhythm taking on a life of its own, reaching up between them and seizing hold.

Despite the cool air, Sylvanas could feel a bead of sweat trail between her shoulder blades. A ripple of muscle as Jaina’s entire back seemed to flex and a noise escaped her that Sylvanas had never heard her make. Sylvanas slowed, but before she could ask if everything was alright, Jaina gasped, “Gods, you feel good. Don’t -” She rocked back. “Don’t stop.”

Placing one hand between Jaina’s shoulders, Sylvanas pushed down, while with the other she pulled Jaina’s hips further up. She canted her own hips down and drove every stroke at an angle, hard enough that the mattress beneath them gave a dangerous creak, and the headboard lurched against the stone wall behind it. One of Sylvanas’ ears flicked when she heard Jaina muffle a keening whine into the pillow; it sent a dizzying haze winding up her own spine.

Sylvanas tightened her hold at Jaina’s waist and growled through grit teeth, “Touch yourself.”

Jaina reached down with trembling fingers, and bucked against the sensation. Sylvanas kept her pace -- short choppy thrusts -- watching, spellbound, as Jaina began to unravel beneath her. Jaina’s free hand scrambled at the headboard for purchase, and soon her movements grew erratic. Sylvanas focused on nothing but wringing every last hoarse cry from Jaina’s throat, ignoring the twinge in her knees and thighs, until Jaina ground down against her own hand with a deep-seated shudder.

Sylvanas brought her down gradually, each steady roll of their hips eliciting a gasp and trembling aftershock, until Jaina could barely keep herself upright. She pulled out, the toy dripping, and Jaina all but collapsed onto the mattress. Sylvanas leaned back on her heels, her calves and thighs aching, and unhooked the harness to toss it onto the floor for proper cleaning up later.

Jaina was breathing heavily, face buried into the pillow. Gently, Sylvanas placed a hand on Jaina’s shoulder, trying to get a better look at her. “Are you alright? Do you need anything? A towel? Water?”

Jaina shook her head and mumbled, “No, m��good.” Then after a moment, she rolled onto her side and amended, “Actually -- uh -- a towel would be nice.”

Sylvanas took a moment to stroke the backs of her fingers against Jaina’s still flushed cheeks before sliding off the bed. She stood, only to realise she had not planned this far ahead in the evening and there were, in fact, no towels. With a sigh, she made do with a clean shirt from one of their travelling trunks.

Returning to the bed, Sylvanas climbed in beside Jaina and handed it to her. Jaina took it without complaint and wiped between her legs with an embarrassed clearing of her throat. “We’re going to need to wash the sheets. I made a bit of a mess.”

Sylvanas hummed and traced a lazy pattern around Jaina’s breasts. “Do you hear me complaining?”

Jaina narrowed her eyes at Sylvanas’ smug grin, then tossed the shirt onto the ground as well. “We should do that again. Not now, obviously. But sometime.” Jaina’s face brightened, and she asked, “Can I try it on you next time?”

Smiling, Sylvanas brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen from Jaina’s braid. “If that’s what you want.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “You’re always harping on about me telling you what I want. Sometimes, I want to know what you want, too.”

Sylvanas kissed her and murmured, “Then, yes. I would like that very much.”

“Good. That’s good,” Jaina said, still sounding a bit dazed. Then, she blinked, pulling her head back. “I still haven’t gotten you. Unless you -?”

Sylvanas shook her head. She could feel a heady flare of heat coiled tightly beneath her stomach, a desire that had been thrumming through her ever since Jaina had her pinned against the wall.

“You don't have to -” Sylvanas started to say, but Jaina cut her off with a kiss and a glare.

“Shut up. I want to,” Jaina said, and for all the force of her words, her touch was soft against Sylvanas’ cheek. “Haven’t you noticed I want you? Haven't you noticed I -”

Whatever Jaina had been about to say died in her throat. Her eyes widened, and she stared at Sylvanas as if caught with her hand in a jar of honey. She started to withdraw, her expression going stony as though she were carved from marble, intractable as the walls of her ancestral home.

Sylvanas reached out to cup Jaina's face between her hands. “Don't do that. Don't hide from me. Please -” She choked back the desperate note from her voice, and took a moment before continuing. “I don't want you just for a few hundred years. That's why I've been asking. Because it's not enough.”

“I would have thought you'd be sick of me by then,” Jaina tried to joke; for once she was the one trying to lighten the mood, when Sylvanas would have none of it.

“I could never be tired of you.”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“You must know by now,” Sylvanas murmured, running her fingers through Jaina's hair. “Aren’t I so transparent?”

Jaina stared at her, searching Sylvanas’ face. Always, Sylvanas had waited -- though perhaps not always with patience -- coaxing Jaina forward step by step, trying to read her thoughts until it drove her half mad. And now Jaina held her breath, watching Sylvanas as though she held the world in her hands, waiting to see what she would do with it.

“I've loved you for months now.” Sylvanas stroked her thumb across Jaina's cheek. “And you never even noticed?”

Jaina's eyes were wide, and when she spoke she sounded breathless. “But you -- You didn't say anything.”

“How could I? You had enough on your mind. You didn't need -” Sylvanas swallowed back all those old self doubts, and her gaze brightened in intensity. “I'm saying it now. The war is over. We won. And I love you.”

A silence followed that statement, so deafening Sylvanas could hear the rapid bruit of her own heart, like the beating of war drums rising once more in the distance.

Jaina opened her mouth, and breathed, “Oh.”

In that moment the world seemed to drop away. Sylvanas blinked. She pulled her hand back as if recoiling, trying to fight the nauseating feeling that clutched at her gut like the icy plunge of a blade digging deep. “I - I did not mean to be too forward -”

Panic flashed across Jaina's face, raw and open as a wound. She lunged forward to capture Sylvanas’ wrist in her hand, and gasp, “No! That's not -! That's not what I meant! You need to let me try again -!”

“It's fine,” Sylvanas lied, looking anywhere but at her, unable to bear the thought of it. “My feelings are my own, and shouldn't impact your -”

In an abrupt flurry of movement, Jaina sat up in bed. She pushed Sylvanas back and crouched over her with pure determination burning in her gaze. “Shut up! I'm trying to say it back, and you keep interrupting me!”

Sylvanas went very still. She could scarcely draw breath when Jaina placed hands on either side of her face and all but glared down at her.

“I love you, too,” Jaina announced, fiercely, as if pledging her service to a sovereign. “There. That's what I meant.”

Sylvanas tried to speak, but had to swallow first. “Are you sure -?”

“Shut up, and kiss me again.”

Sylvanas was only too happy to oblige.

#sylvaina #sylvanas windrunner #jaina proudmoore #increments of longing #roman writes #IT'S DONE LADS #WOOO #I actually finished this a few days ago and posted on AO3 #but I've been away from home for work and sick to boot so I didn't upload it here

[rohobi]

Pulse | Epilogue (m)

Kim Taehyung | Medical AU |  Smut | Angst | Trauma | Medical Jargon | Medical Inaccuracies | Mature Content | Multi-fandom Medical Team | Blood | Violence | Love | Romance | Family | Beginnings | Fire | Mentions of BTS Staff 

TOTAL STORY COUNT —84,779 Words ↳ CHAPTER INDEX 

It's the 18th of August, 2018. The 230th day of the year with 135 days until 2019. It's been two years since the collapse of Forest Lakes Hospital brought Taehyung back into your life. You look back at your reunion with Taehyung now in humor, it was truly meant to happen. Fate, she was a beautiful beast.

It's been 1 year since you've practiced medicine in an ER and it's been 8 months since Taehyung moved into your home to be closer with Sunny.

You were happy.

You were in love.

And Sunny loved her dad very much.

Additionally, it's been a month since Jimin became a nurse practitioner, opening a clinic in the valley, where you occasionally practice to maintain your practicing registration. Yoongi proposed to the brunette on the opening day of the clinic. In a loud romantic gesture, Yoongi had yelled at anyone on the streets who would listen that he could not see a life without Park Jimin in it.

That Jimin was his forever.

Jimin, being the hopeless romantic, had been swept off his feet by a giant diamond ring and a gesture he'd longed for since they started dating. They were happy, grossly happy.

Seokjin and Namjoon were happy, both now working at Seoul Hearts Hospital. You and Taehyung were actually invited on a double date to watch Crazy Rich Asians with them next week but Taehyung has an occupational habit of falling asleep on you in cinemas and he's cute, but not that cute (his head is heavy).

Jungkook moved out after Taehyung kept bullying him. He lives with a girl he's been seeing who, unfortunately, has no medical literacy so dining table conversations get awkward but she's lovely and she's learning. He's had ongoing problems with the arm he broke in Forest Lakes, requiring physiotherapy. Jungkook's been taking it hard because it means, his dreams of becoming a world-famous surgeon are over but he'll be okay. He's got us to help him get through hardship.

Irene had signed up for medical school and was now attending one of your classes. She and Hoseok were close. Being a student, Irene is often seen getting a saline drip in Hoseok's office after joining in the festivities of college life again, much to his chagrin when he picks her drunk self up off the ground.

Mina, Taehyung's ex-wife, is pregnant again! She still works in pediatrics and has actually gotten quite close with your family. She's been banned from coming over after you found her poking holes in Taehyung's condoms.

Apparently, pregnancy makes her crazy.

Sana and Taehyung continue to be close working colleagues, she's a huge drinker these days. Her and Jimin have become best friends and have established a knitting club at the hospital and clinic. Jimin thinks it's funny when people actually turn up to knit. You don't find it funny when they stumble back to your house drunk.

Sunny is in primary school. She's become one of the popular students being as loud as her father. Taehyung has encouraged her to learn saxophone much to EVERYONE's desire for a good night sleep. She's decided that she's going to be a veterinarian when she's older. She thinks medicine for animals will be easier because people are too silly. You can't help but agree.

To be specific with your life, it's been okay. You've taken the year off to continue your education and to lecture at the medical school connected to Seoul Hearts. You work 5 days a week, an 8-5pm job, something that allows you to drop your child off at school and pick her up from after-school care.

It was Saturday today, unfortunately, half of your students had an early morning Saturday exam and your juniors had an afternoon lecture. It was a rare occurrence in your schedule to be working 6 days a week but today, it had to be done.

More meaningfully, it was the end of the semester before half your students went on break before starting their second-year rotations at the hospital. It's your exam and practice hints, and self-care class today, something you had been planning with Taehyung.

"Well," you close the book full of your notes as the sound echoes throughout the silent lecture theatre. "It's come to that time again.

"I'm not going to be mean and make you all stay till 6 to listen to my boring anecdotes when I know happy hour starts in an hour at bad grannies and all of you had to come in on a Saturday. So, I have decided instead, that I will finish this class by telling you a story about my trauma," you announce, stepping away from the podium. "I know all of you have been to my trauma class and heard about the effect of the Forest Lakes bombing on the medical and nursing team."

"I know most of you know what happened between Dr. Jungkook and I that day. I know some of you have worked with Dr. Taehyung in the orthopedic unit next door or Dr. Hoseok in psychiatry or have felt the wrath of Dr. Yoongi in ED. I know some of you were there and I know a student in this room played a cardinal role in saving my life."

Irene sinks behind her computer in the back as all the students look around the room.

"Why am I saying this to you all? Because they were all there with me and they were apart of something so huge, that it still affects me to this very second."

You all watch over their expressions as some close their computer screens. "I know you've heard stories and accounts of what happened just as much as I know most of you wish that you had been there but my story, something I haven't told any other cohort will describe why I'm glad none of you were."

The room goes deafeningly silent.

"But more importantly and more relevantly, no matter what you see out there in the field when you start your rotations in the next couple of weeks, you are not invincible. You'll come to realize that doctors aren't safe from traumatic stress disorders and you will see and experience some very traumatic things."

"To begin," you click the remote to the screen behind you. "It was 7 pm at night, and we had a multi-trauma MVA (motor vehicle accident) come through ER. I was given trauma bay with an unresponsive John Kim. He was barely breathing and it became increasingly clear that I would not be able to provide adequate medical help given my own personal circumstances with this kind of case. You see, prior to the evacuation of Forest Lakes, I had been with a patient with a similar accident, sustaining similar injuries."

The students all begin talking loudly amongst themselves at this revelation.

"Now, this is my last medical story I have for you this semester," you say, clicking on the screen that lists the details of the patient. "So, listen well."

[Flashback: Seoul Hearts Hospital 2017, March 11]

"Can you hear me, John? Wiggle your fingers if you can hear me?"

No response.

You rub his sternum.

Still no response.

"He's not responding," Your hands drop to your side. Your fingers tremble. You step back; your sneakers squeak against the floor. Blood soaks into the fabric. He's lost too much of it. You should probably get the nursing team to run 2 units of blood but he isn't stable yet.

"Breathing looks shit, resps are low 2-5."

He needs to be intubated. Intubate him. Now. Do it.

"My nurse in crime had him on oxygen and while I had spent 5 minutes trying to decide whether I should intubate John. He was a category 1 case for immediate surgical intervention and the anesthetist I was initially working with was required to assess the patient and anticipate the possibility of a difficult airway."

"Unfortunately, he had left the trauma room to attend to an incoming triple-A case (abdominal aortic aneurysm) and this never ended up happening. So, I had little confidence and little help," looking around the room, you all watch their eager eyes follow you. "A surgeon in John Kim's situation, which was me at that point, should be familiar with performing tracheostomies, that is standard hospital protocol. You know, cutting open the throat and chucking in a tube down their airway. It's a classic in the ER and I've done it a million times. It was standard protocol."

You click the screen, showing a picture of an intubated man.

"The nurse I was working with urged me to do an emergency surgical airway but, working with PTSD, I was experiencing flashbacks and felt tunneled in. When that happens, you lose the ability to think about the wider picture, this was the first time it had happened to me during an emergency. In this scenario, it didn't hit me until he had been moved to ICU that it was real. That it actually happened. That John Kim was a real person."

"Y/N, you need to breathe," Jimin yells, tying a tourniquet around the patient's thigh. "This is the end of your 20-hour shift, should I grab another doctor?"

"No, it's fine." You watch the patient's chest rise and fall to shallow depths. You watch the crease beneath his eyebrows even out. You watch the veins in his neck begin to gorge. Then the numbers on the machine beside him begin to fall into a place that would usually make you run into immediate action, but all you hear is white noise.

Static white noise.

Jimin rushes around you. The edges of your vision grow hazy. The lights around you are too bright. The sound of your heartbeat rings loudly in your ears. The rancid smell of blood should be something you're used to by now, but strangely tonight, the sight and smell make you want to vomit.

Makes you want to cry.

You can feel the blood being violently pumped around your body; it whistles in your veins, it runs in your arteries. You feel like you're hovering out of your skin, you're the shell of a doctor, and a scared former self-remains. You don't feel present, as though you were standing somewhere else, in a place far away. The more you feel it, the more numb you grow to feel.

Your patients going to die.

You're going to die.

"It was clear at this point that what happened when Forest Lakes came down and everything else with it, significantly affected my mental health. I didn't know it too until then either," you pace the room, watching all their faces. "You don't know anything until someone tells you or something happens, and unfortunately for me, something did happen and someone did get hurt."

A student raises his hand from the back, you nod your head at him. "Did he die?"

The student sitting beside him shakes her head. "Why would you ask that so early into her story?"

He shrugs.

Jimin shouts desperately beside you, trying to pull you out of the panic attack you think you might be experiencing but you feel so helplessly lost all of a sudden, as though you were left in a dark room with no doors.

With no windows.

With no light.

That it's hopeless.

"He's not responding, Doctor we need to do something," he shouts. "He's not breathing!"

"DOCTOR Y/N!"

"Y/N."

"Did I kill John Kim?" You stop talking, smiling up at the students as they sit on the edges of their seats. "Is that why I am no longer practicing medicine? Are you all wondering that?"

They shake their heads, talking amongst themselves.

You know they are.

"The short version is that no, I did not kill him thankfully but I was very damn close to killing him. You will never be alone when you practice. You have nurses who protect their patients from harm and as much as I hate to say it, from you too."

"John Kim died in ICU. He passed on comfortably with his family around him. I'm a good doctor. I don't need people to tell me I am. I know I am but when I think of that day, I know I wasn't. I wasn't looking after myself and I was ignoring my mental health. We are not made of a different kind of substance, we are just as sensitive to trauma as anyone else."

"You can do this," Jimin says, shaking you after making you do deep breaths with him. The static noise begins to disappear, removing the veil atop of your oblivion, revealing a completely lit room. A patient in front of you needing help. A nurse staring at you with a beautiful mix of concern and fear in his eyes.

"Y/N, we need you!" Jimin shouts again. "We need you, come back!" You take a deep breath then you take another one.

"I don't know..." you whisper, shaking your head. Jimin watches you and then he smiles, "He needs you, you're okay."

Your eyes sweep across the situation again as though it had become a completely different situation. "Jimin, we need more fluids and more blood. Get Sana to contact the family, we need an extensive family history and more information about what happened. "

"You aren't practicing after this patient Y/N.," he says, frowning at you. "I have to advocate for my patients and because I love you. You stop after this. I can't let you practice."

You smile back at Jimin because as much as you hate hearing that, you know in your heart that he's right. "You're right Jimin. Absolutely right."

Clicking the end of your pupil torch on, you turn back to the patient. You shine the light into his dark brown eyes, watching the reflex in one eye before the other. "Christ. Abnormal pupillary reflex, possible cerebral trauma," putting your hand into his, you shout at the patient. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

No response again but you knew there wouldn't be.

"Trauma affects you in different ways. It doesn't have to be during or straight after something scary, it can be latent, affecting you later like it did to me. I want each and every person in this room to know and understand that people react differently to things, I know that's obvious, but to emphasize with those who you care for, those who you sit next to and those whom you company."

The room is silent as the echo of your voice fades into the lecture hall.

"I want to talk to you all about something that will help. It's in no way replacing the fabulous work of a counselor or a therapist, but it's something you should all take on board. Let's talk about self-care out in the field that may prevent things from escalating to what my story told off."

You like lecturing, it gives you the opportunity to inspire and influence the future doctors of the world through your experience. Talking as you gaze at each and every student, you smile -feeling grateful. Teaching has also given you the opportunity to think about your own future and where you want to go. Maybe you needed to do more study? Perhaps, become the dean of the medical school at the university? Or, open your own hospital? Who knows.

But you're hopeful and happy, and that's all that matters.

"Lastly folks, looking after yourself is how you'll look after others. Please take your own pulse before you take other peoples. Thank you for attending my class today and I hope to see you all before you start practice."

"Alright, I'm done," You sigh, chucking the clicker onto the adjacent table as you step out from behind the podium. "Have a good break, you guys!"

You grip your briefcase, waiting for the last few students to drag themselves out of the lecture theatre. Stretching your neck, you rub the pad of your fingers against the tight muscles, feeling some relief momentarily albeit the reminder of the horrendous amount of marking you had to complete before leaving.

It was a different kind of exhaustion working in education. It certainly wasn't like emergency medicine and the visceral fatigue you felt after a shift, although you missed the excitement of life and death, you had to admit that it was actually kind of nice working with students who would someday fall in love with it too.

"Y/N," Irene waved, reaching you in three quick strides. You smile at the girl; she's changed so much in the last year too. Her once lavender colored hair, now raven black, contrasting beautifully with her pale skin. Her lips trembled into a tender smile as she approached you.

"I hope you aren't still blaming yourself for that day, John was a complex case," she sighs, as the two of you start leaving the lecture hall together. "But I'm glad you're able to talk about it, I was beginning to think we lost you to it."

When Irene had left her nursing career, you had handed in your resignation. It just felt right to take a break from healing others to heal yourself. "There are some cases that stick with you forever but you know this already Irene."

She nods. "I do."

"Have you worked part-time since you started med school?" you asked, it would be an awful shame if she had completely stopped nursing. You were confident that it would've given her an advantage over the other students.

"Other than working casual when they're short staffed, I've been taking a break, I'm actually seeing Hoseok and it's going well," she stammers, her cheeks dusting with a soft pink as though she had not meant to tell you that. You walk towards the elevators, a smirk growing on your face. "Oh seeing as in ...not dating, ...I mean, he's helping me with the nightmares."

"Oh, I'm sure he is-" you pinch her bicep playfully "-you crazy kids!"

"We're talking and it's nice, I meant, he's helping me deal with the nightmares."

"I saw you guys laughing at that new Italian restaurant when Taehyung tried to propose to me for the third time. You were holding hands and staring at each other, no need to hide it." you chuckle, enjoying how she was becoming. "I'm glad he's in love. I was beginning to think it wouldn't be possible for Hoseok."

"Oh, you saw us? Well, I guess I can't keep it from you. He's good to me although at one point people are going to start accusing me of nepotism. He's so obvious with his special treatment."

You laughed at that. Hoseok would never go out of his way to encourage nepotism, especially in his own line of work. In fact, you were certain Hoseok would ensure any benefit and achievement Irene got was because of her own hard work. "I am not going to comment on that. Love is love."

Irene stays paused outside of the elevator when the doors open. "Happiness is happiness."

Your heels click against the floor as you head in. Turning to face her, you hold up your hand to wave. "It was nice talking to you Irene. Give Hoseok a cuddle for me, tell him it's been a couple days since I last saw his ugly face."

"You guys work together, calm down," she smiles. "Hey, I'm glad you're healing and do whatever the hell you want, you deserve it. Say "Hi" to Taehyung and Sunny and Jimin for me, I miss them."

"They miss you too Irene. Please come to our BBQ next Friday, Sunny keeps talking about wanting to be you and it's driving me nuts."

"But nepotism Y/N."

"What's more important to you?"

"Fine, see you then."

The elevator doors close.

Leaving your office early that Friday afternoon, Taehyung calls you as you throw your briefcase into the back of your car. Tapping the hands-free option, you start the engine as his voice fills the car.

"Babe, where are you?"

You grip the steering wheel, indicating off the road with a click of a button before pulling out. "Hi hunny, lovely to hear your voice too. Yes, my day was great, what about yours?"

His baritone voice fills the car. "My parents have Sunny for the night, where are you?"

"That sounds suggestive, the couch too uncomfortable for you?" Stuck at the traffic lights, you mirr in suspicion. "I'm 5 minutes away, why? You got something planned for dinner?"

"I do actually. Can you meet me at Nimas at 5?"

"You better not be proposing to me because I'm sorry babe, it's going to be a no again," You sigh. You aren't entirely sure why Taehyung is so determined to persuade you that marrying him would be the next best decision since he moved in. He's a hopeless romantic and you have to admit, the proposals get more exciting everytime you say no but you know someday, you're going to have to say yes. "Why are we having an early dinner?"

"I've proposed to you 9 times now, do you think I'd propose again beca-

"-yes, yes I do. I definitely think you'll propose again," you interrupt, pressing the gas pedal down when the light turns green. "In fact, I'm looking forward to seeing what ring you'll poison me within the garlic bread. Can I say as a suggestion that putting jewelry in food is a bad idea, and not to do it."

"Hey now, the yogurt incident was horribly organized by the staff at that restaurant. You're lucky I know CPR."

Taking a deep breath, you shiver at the memory. Taehyung had taken you to one of the best middle eastern restaurants in the city. It had started with an argument on the way and it had ended with an argument as you yelled at him for trying to kill you. "We do CPR every time we're in the community, can I not be a doctor when we're out? And I know you were embarrassed that day, you didn't need to kiss me so hard in front of everyone to cover-

"-CPR. IT WAS CPR. I WAS SAVING YOUR LIFE."

Rolling your eyes, you snort. "So dinner tonight and you're only giving me an hour to get changed?"

"Jimin's at home, so you girls can talk. Be ready or not, up to you. The house is clean and Rosie is at Jungkook's new place for the night too. So, it's just us."

Frowning, you indicate onto the highway. Rosie. That damn loveable dog. "Still can't believe you bought Sunny a golden retriever, what's wrong with you? We're doctors, we don't have time to give her the attention she needs. And I can't believe you manipulated Jungkook into moving out, I miss him."

"Jungkook has an insanely large crush on you and it makes me uncomfortable watching him lust over a woman who lusts over me. Also, don't hate Rosie please, she is cute. Plus, you come home at 5 pm every day, you have time in the evening and I have time in the morning."

"He has a girlfriend and I'm a slob," he snickers at your comment. "But ...I lust over you? Since when? I don't, do I?

You can see the smile take over his face as though he were in front of you having this conversation. "Oh baby, you can't help it when I'm just this irresistible."

"I'm hanging up now-

"-I love you," he interrupts. "I'll see you at the restaurant! Don't be late."

"I'll be what I want."

You hang up on him.

He calls you back a second later.

You pick up. "What do you want now?"

"Y/N, I love you and do you?"

"Fine. I might love you too."

Taehyung hisses into the shell of his phone. "Might? Please, you love the heck out of me. I have the marks on my body to prove it!

"Then why do I need to say it if you know?"

"Anything could happen and I don't want it to happen without me telling you that I love you. I know you'll regret it too if something happens to me too."

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm hanging up now."

"Y/N."

"Fine. I love you Kim Taehyung, you crazy dog loving fool. I'll see you soon. Don't put the ring in the food."

"I think I'll just put it on the table then. Bye, babe."

"Really? Oh lord, bye Taehyung."

Jimin adjusts his tie as Yoongi puts his pants back on. They'd just finished visiting a million wedding venues before settling into the first LGBT friendly wedding apparel store. Yoongi had paid the owners to close it so their session with the stylist could be more intimate.

When the stylist had left them alone upon a request that Jimin's suit be of a softer fabric because he had sensitive skin, Yoongi had swept him off his feet, kissing the hell out of the boy.

His mouth had tasted like the white chocolate cake they had tried earlier.

"Yoongi," he whispers, reaching out to grab the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer. "Do you think Y/N is going to marry Taehyung?"

"Baby, why are we talking about this now?" Yoongi leans forward, placing soft kisses down Jimin's neck. He whispers into Jimin's ear. "Because fuck no, not now anyway. Maybe a month ago yes, but now? No way."

Jimin frowns suspiciously as he leans into him. "What do you know?"

Yoongi runs a hand down Jimin's chest, resting it over his stomach. He leaves his palm there before winking at the boy.

Jimin screams, pulling away from Yoongi. "She's pregnant again?"

Jimin screams again.

Then he jumps like a child in a bouncy castle.

"I'm going to be an uncle!"

He claps as he screams.

"Please stop," Yoongi laughs. "She's not pregnant. She's just fat. Oh my god, you screamed so loud."

Jimin falls back on his feet, crashing back to Earth. "You were kidding?"

Yoongi nods, reaching out to him again.

"You fucker," Slapping him away, Jimin shouts at the poor blonde. "YOU CAN'T CALL ANY WOMAN FAT YOU PIG, AND HOW DARE YOU."

"Just mind your own business then, worry about us and our wedding instead. Leave them to their dysfunctional happiness."

"Figures, why did I think you'd know more than me?" Jimin sinks. "By the way, I am not moving out of that goddamn house anytime soon. I'm attached and Sunny is like my daughter-

"-yes I know, we'll be living there," Yoongi sighs. "It will be so ...cozy..." he cringes at the thought.

"I just need to get my clinic back on its feet and we'll be saving money before we build our own house, okay?"

Yoongi nods. "Okay. Speaking of home, shall we head back to mine?"

Looking around the room, Jimin spots the stylist hanging up their suits. "Let's go, I trust you've already paid for the suits?"

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi flashes his credit card in front of Jimin's eyes.

"Aren't you lucky I'm rich."

"Get that thing out of my face," Jimin chuckles. "One of us has to be, do you think nurses get paid well? No, we don't. So, you'll be paying for lots of things, like ...our drive thru starbucks we're going to get on the way home?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "You're disgusting."

"Awh but babe."  

Taehyung has proposed marriage to you 9 times now and you've said no every single time.

Your relationship with him isn't like how it used to be. You're comfortable. He's comfortable. It feels right. But there's still that little piece of history that makes Taehyung feel like he has a lot to make up for and alot to promise, like marriage.

Marrying him in a hurry isn't something that you're interested in doing, especially when you're finally able to think about yourself for the first time in a long time now that Sunny has two parents.

"So, what do you think?" Taehyung smiles, pushing the little box across the table as you finish your mouth full of food. You were sitting across from each other in a small yellow Mexican restaurant. You were by the wall, table separated by a black divider for privacy and Taehyung was wearing a linen white shirt and suit pants. His hair was luscious, his soft brown locks falling just above his eyebrows, a small mullet forming at the back.

And he was smiling at you, brown eyes twinkling a million shades full of hope. It was his pre-proposal face, one you were becoming addicted to seeing.

He looked good.

But he always looked good.

You gape at the box next to the flickering candle. The ring is small, just how you like them. "What do I think of the ring? I think it's beautiful."

"Is it a yes?"

Staring around the divider, you see a hesitant group of musicians staring at you and Taehyung. "Yes to the ring, no to both the mariachi and marriage."

He blinks at you. "Why?"

"I don't wanna marry you."

"Why not?"

Shrugging, you pour yourself some water from the silver tequila bottle as Taehyung turns to signal to the mariachi band against coming over. "Obviously because I'm waiting for someone better to come around." you joke.

"I am someone better and I have come around. Is this because I bought Rosie? But she's our other baby? I know you love her!"

"This has nothing to do with the dog," you whisper, realizing just how loud you two were becoming.

Taehyung stands up, dragging his chair beside yours as he sits back down. He holds your hand tenderly, as he looks at everything but your face. "Is it me? You don't want to be with me like that?"

"No, don't be silly," you whisper, heart, softening at the expression of sadness on his face. "Taehyung, it's not like that."

He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Then tell me, so I can stop this."

"It's not you hunny," You rub your thumb over his knuckles. "But is there a reason why you want to marry me?"

Taehyung drops his head to avoid looking at you.

"Tell me." You whisper, trying to look at his face.

He turns his face away.

"Tae, tell me."

He turns away again.

"Taehyung," Holding a side of his face, you lean forward and kiss his lips, catching him off guard. He sighs, leaning into your affection before you pull away, "Tell me."

He shakes his head.

You kiss his cheek. "Tell me," You kiss his other cheek. "Tell me."

"Tell-" you kiss his lips. "Me."

"Fine," he smiles, admitting defeat. "I'm afraid you'll leave me and if I don't tie you down with marriage, you'll run after a younger looking hussy. You're mine. I just want it written down on paper."

"That's stupid."

"I know it's stupid. I'm stupid."

"You aren't stupid at all."

"I'm just stupid around you."

"Is that a crime?"

He smirks, winking at you. "A crime of passion?"

"You have my heart Kim Taehyung, always have and always will," A small smile stretches across your face as you lean in and softly kiss his lips. He melts into your affection, wrapping his arms around you. Its moments like these, where you're able to surrender the past you've had with him in order to feel the hope of a bright future that makes you feel peaceful with your life.

Kim Taehyung was yours.

As you were his.

Pulling back, he stares at you in thought. "Why don't you want to marry me though?"

"It's not that I don't, it's that I don't want to marry you right now. Can we get married in like 5 years instead of now?"

He smiles widely, grabbing the ring from the box and putting it on your finger. "It's fine! We don't have to get married right away. We can be engaged for years-

Interrupting Taehyung, a waiter sporting a worried expression with trembling hands opens the divider. The restaurants light invades your intimate area, casting light across Taehyung's calm face. "Hi sorry to interrupt, but when you made the reservation you told me you were a doctor," she stares at Taehyung. "And we need one right now, a man in our private eating area has just collapsed."

You both deflate. "I knew this was going to happen."

Taehyung stands up, pushing the chair out of the way. "We're never really off duty are we?"

Shaking your head, you smile at the man. "We're doctors, not soldiers. If we can help, we help."

The waiter runs you both towards the private area after you rip the green defib bag off the restaurants first aid wall. Pulling open the doors, a man is unconscious on the ground while a much younger woman smacks his chest.

"What's going on?" Taehyung says, immediately swooping into action.

Turning to the waiter, you urge her to call an ambulance when Taehyung shouts out that he isn't breathing. Taehyung immediately begins CPR. Grabbing the defibrillator, you rip open the man's shirt, placing the pads on his upper and lower chest. The machine picks up a rhythm compatible with the defib as you both stand back. The wailing woman beside you grabs onto Taehyung's arm, pushing her face into his chest.

Taehyung looks at you, discomfort written across his face.

You wink back.

When the shocks are administered, you fall to the ground. Taehyung pushes the girl away, shouting at the waiter to update the paramedic on the cardiac arrest at present.

Taehyung sits opposite you. You smile at him as you do chest compressions with a shiny new diamond on your finger. "She looks good on your finger? So, earlier, you said you wanted to marry me, was that a yes?"

"Really? Right now?" you pant.

"Why not?" he shrugs, watching you deliver two breaths. "She looks good on your finger while you do chest compressions."

Taehyung gets his hands ready on the man's chest as you both watch his chest expand with your breaths. You fall back as he takes over.

"Ambulance is on the way!" the waiter shouts as you hear the nearing sirens.

"Marry me Y/N," he pants, his bangs beginning to drip with sweat after 2 minutes of chest compressions. "I promise with everything that I won't stop you from growing into the person you want to become. I support everything you do, know that."

He stops compressions, delivering two breaths.

"Taehyung, I'll marry you if you save him," you snap, just wanting this to be over and to go home. Taehyung lifts his gaze to yours. His lips upturn as he excitingly gets back onto the man's chest, compressing with a newfound motivation.

"Where's the ambulance?" he shouts. "He got any allergies, on any medication?" he shouts louder at the poor sobbing girl. "YO' YOU GOT ANY ADRENALINE HERE? I NEED TO SAVE HIM SO I CAN MARRY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE"

You know it's an inappropriate time to laugh but you giggle. Taehyung is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. After some time, you both reassess the patient's condition. Taehyung shouts with more excitement. "He's breathing again. HE'S BREATHING."

You fall back onto your heels, fingers pressing against his jugular and you look at Taehyung over the patient on the floor.

"And we have a pulse too!"

"You know what that means?" He smiles up at you as the paramedics arrive just on time. "Don't take off that damn ring, I'm marrying your ass."

"Yes, I'll marry you Kim Taehyung. Goodness gracious, you crazy man!"

When the paramedics arrive and take over, Taehyung sweeps you off the ground and kisses the living daylights out of your blushing sweaty face. His hands rest around your waist, pulling you back and out of the room, past the ambulance, into your car and all the way home.

Time, something you could see yourself giving yourself too if he was with you. Of course, you wanted to marry him but marriage is and will never be your end-all.

He knows that.

And he loves you regardless.

Though the house is empty with the last hints of Jimin's earlier visit before retreating back to work, Taehyung slams you up against the front door, his lips not capable of leaving yours as he grabs your thighs, hoisting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you rustle your keys from his pocket, shoving them into the door and pushing it open.

You pull the keys out before he kicks it closed behind you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you to the lounge.

The house is silent and dark as the trickles of rain are illuminated by the bright moonlight baring down through the sheer curtains. Although in due time, muffled hums and broken moans will fill the silent space as his silhouette hovers above you gripping your waist, laying you flat against the living room carpet.

In the darkness, he kisses you, swallowing all of your throaty moans. All pretenses fall, Taehyung is a hungry dominating man and you were his next meal. He kisses, he licks, he touches you. It's like electricity, the way he makes you feel so inexplicably alive.

Every kiss he plants tastes like wine and you were getting drunk of the euphoria as he sheds your clothes, as your hearts race as your naked bodies move together like the finest of silk.

His musky scent surrounds you as he holds you tightly against him. His hands fall to your hips, moonlight splays against his back muscles as your toes curl when he gyrates against your hips, pushing his cock inside you. He bites his lips, squeezing his eyes closed as he holds himself back from fucking you hard when you moan at the pressure of feeling so damn full.

But Taehyung was going to take his time with you tonight.

He had all night to do so.  

And when the early rays of sunrise lick your bare skin as you lay curled up into the couch throw on the floor in front of the fireplace he had started up last night, Taehyung holds you close as you sleep.

Jimin would be getting home soon, they needed to move. He kisses your forehead as you pretend to be asleep, before picking you up and carrying you back to bed. They can deal with the lack of protection later because all Taehyung can think about is the overwhelming peace he feels within his softly beating heart.

Untucking the covers, he places you underneath the blankets. "I love you Y/N.," he says as you nuzzle into his chest when he joins you. "You silly billy."

"Hey." he pokes your cheek.

He pokes you again. "Y/N."

"Aren't you going to say it back?"

You open one of your eyes. "How the hell did you know I was awake?"

He stares at you unimpressed. "Pretending to be dead sleep so I can carry you to bed? Pulling a Sunny move? It was almost a good job until you smiled when I picked you up."

"You're so strong though, who wouldn't love being carried to bed by you," Kissing his chest, you curl yourself into him. "I love you too. Let's sleep, okay? I want to sleep. You sleep."

"Fine. Let's sleep. Gotta get our energy up anyway with all the sex I plan on having with you this weekend while Sunny is gone."

"Gross. It takes two to tango, you know."

"I know, but who can resist me?"

"Go to sleep you rat. Goodnight."  

He chuckles softly. "Goodnight Y/N. Thank you for everything."

AND SHES DONE. THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT. 

#bts fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtan scenarios #bangtan boys

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: ‘Come Along with Me’ (S10E13-16)

Airdate: September 3, 2018

Story by: Ashley Burch, Kent Osborne,  Adam Muto,  Jack Pendarvis, Julia Pott, Pendleton Ward & Steve Wolfhard

Storyboarded by: Tom Herpich, Steve Wolfhard, Seo Kim, Somvilay Xayaphone, Hanna K. Nyström, Aleks Sennwald, Sam Alden & Graham Falk

Directed by: Cole Sanchez & Diana Lafyatis (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

In August of 2012, I had just moved into a university dormitory to begin my second year as an undergraduate. On one of the last days of the month (the date escapes me), I was relaxing in the hall recreation room with my roommate. To my left sat another friend, watching something intently on his laptop.

 His focus was remarkable, and so I was intrigued. “What are you watching?” I asked.

 He glanced over and responded, “Adventure Time!”

 I’d heard of the show, and seen a few clips. At the time, I was taken aback by its combination of high brow and low brow sensibilities. But I saw how much joy it gave my friend, I put down my guard and decided to give it a watch.

 He tilted the screen towards my face, and what was I greeted to? Why a geometric space-god with a flaming blue sword attacking a green individual in a bright yellow jacket. Suddenly, a boy and his dog were in the picture. What was going on?

 As it turns out, I was watching season four’s “Sons of Mars”, one of the show’s wackiest episodes. In time, I was enthralled by the bright colors and the silly jokes. There was Abraham Lincoln. There was death. By the end of it, I was won over.

 I still think fondly of that day (as readers of this blog might be able to attest), for it was then that I was introduced to my favorite show, Adventure Time.

For years, it seemed like Adventure Time was just an omnipresent facet of popular culture. From t-shirts to Happy Meal toys, Finn and Jake were everyone, blending into what Marshall McLuhan would call the “beaten paths of impercience.” When we all learned that the show was ending in late 2016, it was sad, but because there were dozens of episodes left to air, this reality never really hit me.

But this week, it finally hit me. The end was nigh.

At 5 pm today, I sat nervously on my couch as the intro started, and we were off to the races.

The episode opens 1000 years after the lives of Finn and Jake. We are greeted to two new heroes: Shermy (voiced by Sean Giambrone) and Beth (voiced by Willows Smith). The two are heavily implied to be Finn and Jake reincarnated, and the latter is likely a descendant of Jake himself. After an encounter with the Prizeball Guardian (last seen in “Grabyles 1000+”), the two discover Finn’s robot-arm. They decide to journey to Mount Cragdor (where the Enchiridion was once kept) to find the all-knowing King of Ooo.

Once our new heroes make the journey and reach the top of the mountain, we the audience learn that the King of Ooo is not our favorite charlatan, but rather BMO. After Shermy and Beth present our little robot with Finn’s arm, BMO begins to tell the story of the “Great Gum War”:

1000 years prior (that is, during the show’s normal timeline), Princess Bubblegum and her Uncle Gumbald had each amassed armies to take one another down. Just before the battles are to commence, Finn devises a plan to stop any blood shed: He calls one last meeting between the Candy Kingdom and Gumbaldia, and then, using the magic, nightmare-inducing potion given to him by Nightmare Princesss in “Orb”, he knocks everyone into a subconscious world, where he hopes that they will make nice.

Everything goes a bit haywire, but in the end, Bubblegum and Gumbald realize that their is no real reason for them to fight one another: they each want different things, and are rightfully ticked off at one another, but through dialogue they can likely work things out. Finn and Fern, too, realize that they share the exact same fears that they have locked in their collective “Vault”. Putting aside their differences, they team up and kill the grass-curse spider that has held Fern a prisoner for so long.

At this point, our heroes (and villains) wake up and decide to make amends. Gumbald, however, is tripped by Aunt Lolly, and after being splashed with dum-dum juice, reverts back to Punchy. Lolly, however, vows to maintain the peace with the Candy Kingdom.

Just then, King Man crashes out of the sky and reveals that he, Betty, and an unconscious Maja donked up in a major way. He and Betty were trying to use magic to summon the primordial space demon/god Golb so as to undo the magic of the Ice King’s crown. However, their magic was too effective, and they accidentally summoned Golb to this plane of existence.

Golb begins to use his chaos magic, mutating candy kingdom and Gumbaldia citizens alike into grotesque monsters.  Ice King is summoned by King Man and told to try and stop Betty from completing her ritual, but in the commotion (which sees Maja literally explode) they, along with Finn, are accidentally swallowed by Golb, where they start to get digested.

Things start to go downhill fast. Golb’s monsters are extremely effectively, and decimate Bubblegum’s forces and those of her ragtag allies. As Bubblegum is standing on a rock, one of the Golb-monsters lunges at her and seemingly crushes her!

Marceline turns around and seeing the death of her past paramour, loses it. Unleashing both the beast and magic girl inside her, our favorite vampire turns into the Dark Cloud, last seen in Stakes and absolutely wails on the Golb-monster, tearing it to bits. She is absolutely furious that her best friend has been smooshed.

But luckily, it turns out that Bubblegum’s advanced battle armor had a handy shield, and she was saved from any danger. Marceline is overjoyed, and flies into the candy monarch’s armies, weeping tears of joy. The two hug.

And then comes the Bubbline kiss.

As Marceline and Bubblegum were holding each other close after the latter was very nearly squished, I knew it was now or never.

I was on the edge of my seat, as a tearful Marceline tells PB: “Even back when we weren’t talking, I was so afraid that something bad would happen to you and I wouldn’t be there to protect you and... I don’t want to lose you again!”

There’s some cute back and forth, and then the two quietly, effortlessly kiss.

The debate online as to whether or not the two were in a relationship has raged on- and offline since “What Was Missing” first aired years ago. As the two’s friendship evolved over the years, I came to believe that a romantic relationship was the next logical step for both the characters and the show itself to explore. Marceline and Bubblegum are unique in that they are two strong, intelligent, and emotionally complex female characters who often spend time exclusively with each other; the two ace the Bechdel test, a fairly rare occurrence in modern media.

It’s a bummer that the show waited until the very end of the series to canonize their relationship, but perhaps that makes it all the more rewarding? We have worked towards this culmination, and now we have a fully-acknowledged lesbian relationship between two major cartoon characters! How ground-breaking! Furthermore, regardless of when this canonization happened, the confirmation that Marceline and Bubblegum are “more than just friends” will inevitably help to undo some of the erasure that queer communities have faced since the dawn of media (if not time).

To sum up my feelings, let me just leave you with a (heavily) modified quote from Virginia Woolf:

“‘Marceline liked Bubblegum...’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes half-demon vampires do like sentient pieces of Bubblegum.”

(Of course, I am curious as to what their future holds. We seem them together snuggling in the epilogue, but they are not around one thousand years in the future. This is, honestly, the biggest question that will bug me about the finale!)

Despite taking a literal pounding from Marceline, Golb’s evil creatures pull themselves back together and march towards the Tree Fort. Jake gives chase, but is not able to reach them in time: they smash Finn and Jake’s beloved home, and seriously injure poor BMO.

Jake is beside himself! His house is gone! But then, BMO comes over to him, and lovingly calms him down. BMO points out that Finn and Jake have long been a parent to the little robot, and now it is time for BMO to be the parent. And then, BMO begins to sing a tune “for his son Jake”, entitled “Time Adventure”.

"Time Adventure", written by storyboard artist extraordinaire Rebecca Sugar herself, encapsulates the best of the series: it's sad but uplifting. Melodic but rough-around-the-edges. It celebrates the wonders of life while also admitting that we can't really see all there is to it. Some people online criticized it for being too obvious (yes, the song’s title is just a flipping of the show's title), but in some way, I find that it's the most poetic and philosophical thing that its ever done.

When I was 11, I had my first real panic attack. I was out with my family when I was struck by a thought that has not left my head since: I'm going to die. Not that I can die, or that death might hurt. No. I am going. to. die; presumably, my consciousness will disconnect and I will not exist. I want to believe in an afterlife, but it’s an idea that seems oh so very hard to accept when faced with what we know about nature (but that’s a whole ‘nother discussion). These revelations horrified me, and it has taken years to really process what death actually means—and I’m still not there. None of us really are.

But as I’ve aged, I've been comforted by some rather Stoic ideas, like the idea that what will be will be and we should not stress about things that we simply cannot change. I also like the idea that we are all part of the cosmos, and while we will die, we don’t cease to exist: we just merge back into where we came from.

These musings are adjacent to another comforting idea: the fourth-dimensional view of time that BMO sings about:

Time is an illusion That helps things make sense So we're always living In the present tense ... Singing, will happen Happening happened [...] And will happen Again and again 'Cause you and I will always be back then

It’s true. Perhaps my “arrow-of-time consciousness” will be blasted into nothingness once I die, but I’m not ceasing to be. I eternally am. What happened is happening will happen. “Time is an illusion/That helps things make sense.” While this idea might not extinguish a fear of death, it’s a nice thought. And just like Adventure Time, when you combine enough nice thoughts, you often get something beautiful.

And beauty is all that was really needed for our heroes. It turns out that Golb is a creature of chaos, meaning that the only weapon that the citizens of Ooo can effectively use is concordance—harmony in music. It might seem a little silly that “beating the baddie with music” is how Golb’s minions are defeated, but considering the sort of magical role that music has played in the show, it’s not too much of the stretch. It also remains me of how the show used (and subverted) “defeating a baddie with heart” to great effect did in Stakes.

BMO (who hilariously declares, “My art is a weapon!”) is joined by Marceline and Bubblegum, and soon by Jake and the rest of the crew. Their combined harmonizing weakens Golb, allowing Finn and Simon to escape from his belly. However, Betty decides to remain behind. She realizes that the singing has also reset the ice crown’s phantasmal magic. Putting it on, she wishes for the power to ensure Simon’s safety, which entails her transforming (in a stunning sequence that IndieWire writer Eric Kohn refers to as “straight out of Don Hertzfeldt”) into Golb him(her?)self. Golb promptly leaves this reality, dropping the crown onto the ground. Gunter grabs it, and—despite Jake’s warnings that the naughty penguin will wish to become Orgalorg once again—Gunter merely wishes to turn into the Ice King (or, “Ice Thing”).

Finn and Jake return to the ruins of their tree fort, where they plant Fern’s seed. A new tree immediately sprouts from the ground, with the Finnsword embedded within it. Bubblegum arrives on the scene and thanks Finn for directly disobeying her. She gives him an appreciative kiss on the cheek and then muses that he is getting taller.

We cut back to Ooo 1000+, where BMO wraps up the story. Shermy and Beth still have questions (just like the audience!) about ‘Phil’ and Jake, and Marceline and Bubblegum. BMO shrugs these questions off, saying, “You know, they kept living their lives.”

Shermy and Beth set out to find the “Ferntree” to verify BMO’s story; they eventually realize that the large tree reaching up to the heavens near their stomping grounds is almost certainly it.

We cut back to Finn and Jake, who are sitting around the Music Hole from the episode of the same name. The hole tells our heroes that she has a new song for them, and she begins to sing “Come Along with Me” (which every Adventure Time fan knows is the show’s closing number).

While the Music Hole sings, we see Shermy and Beth climb to the top of the tree. We are also greeted to a montage of what happened to all our friends in Ooo:

Lumpy Space Princess is crowned a bonafide princess (or perhaps even a queen)

Ice Thing and Turtle Princess get married

TV becomes a private detection (just like his grandparents!)

Sweet Pea graduates from school and eventually becomes a super-huge hero, who carries Finn's Nightosphere-sword

Aunt Lolly and Bubblegum seemingly make up and learn to love each other as family members

Lemongrab gets one of Jermaine’s paintings to hang above his bed, which brings him peace

BMO blasts Moe's harddrive into space with the help of Banana Man

Flame Princess and NETPR get popular and perform at Hamburger Hills Cemetery to a huge crowd

Magic Man is the happy King of Mars

Simon spends quality time with Marceline and Bubblegum, and seems to try and summon Betty back using Prismo’s wish magic (sadly, it doesn’t work)

Marceline and Bubblegum, meanwhile, are shown snuggling on the couch in the former’s house; it is implied that they are raising Peppermint Butler, who once again is showing an interest in the dark arts

Humans return to Ooo, and Finn is likely reunited with his (digital mother)

We also see what the Jiggler, Tiffany, the Crabbit, Susan Strong/Kara and Freida, the Candy Kingdom citizens, Tree Trunks and Lemonhope are up to

The episode ends with Shermy and Beth finding the Finnsword in the Ferntree. After Beth pulls the sword from the (metaphorical) stone, Shermy holds it up, just like the show’s title card.

So now let’s talk about what worked and what didn’t. The last half of the finale, if I do say so, was wonderful. Nothing to complain about here: we got arc resolutions, emotionally touching moments, and a nice sense of closure. In regards to this latter point, I specifically like how the show gave use an ending but emphasized that this finale was not really the full-stop end of the characters that we know and love—it was just the end of the story that we’re privy to. As BMO says, everyone kept living their lives and the world kept on spinning. That’s a very nice way to end a show like this, and it feeds into the existential ideals of Adventure Time: there is no grand, overarching story that has to have some big punctuation at the end. Finn and Jake are heroes, but long after they’re gone, the world will still be here, and there will be other great heroes to take their place.

With all this said, I must admit that the finale’s first half is something of a missed opportunity. Opening with Shermy and Beth was a totally inspired move (and the new intro is gorgeously animated, courtesy of Science SARU Studios), but I believe the show lingered on their introduction for just a little too long. Likewise, the weird trippy nightmare portion of the finale was about 15 minutes too long. We did not really need 1/4 of the episode to be devoted to wacky dream imagery that both “King Worm” and “Orb” did more effectively. And given that the show chose to linger on these sections—sections that, in the grand scheme of things, are not super essential—the final portions of the episode came across as a bit rushed. The storylines are all satisfying, but it would’ve been nice if we had gotten a little bit more focus on Betty, Simon, and Finn, or Simon and Marceline, rather than Bubblegum and Gumbald’s wacky nightmares.

And speaking of Gumbald, his ending was a total cop-out. I’m not too torn up about this, given that he was never the main baddie in this episode (that was Golb), but his deciding to make peace and then accidentally reverting to Punchy was contrived and anticlimactic. To go back to a criticism I had of “Gumbaldia”, if the show had been given just a little more time to flesh his character and motivations out, I think his role in the finale would’ve been much better served.

But like I said, I wasn’t too torn up about this, because the main focus of this episode was on Golb and the horrors that such a being could unleash upon Ooo. And the show did this wonderfully. Indeed, it was quite exciting that the show finally had a villain that Finn couldn’t just punch a lot until it died (remember, he beat the Lich this way). Golb was, arguably, invincible. It was only the extremely broken magic of the ice crown could do anything.

Speaking of satisfying, “Come Along With Me” also gives Fern an excellent conclusion. The poor grass-doppelgänger was never evil, just confused. By finally coming to terms with his existential crisis of a life, he and Finn were able to patch things up. Sadly, this came at the expense of his dying (the scene in which Finn and Fern kill the grass-curse spider was quite fun). But even in death, there is life, and Fern’s demise allows a new tree to replace the old tree fort. How sweet is that?

Finn coming to terms with his disability was also a nice touch. As I mentioned in my review of Islands, Adventure Time seems to have a somewhat pessimistic view of technology. With this episode, Finn loses his robot arm once and for all, and instead of having PB build him a new one or dabbling in arm-magicks, he decides to let it all be. This is a very important lesson for the show to emphasize. Finn is still Finn with or without his arm. By constantly trying to ‘fix’ himself, Finn was trying to fill a hole that didn’t need to be filled. After experiencing all this Golb biz, it seems that Finn has come to terms with his essence and who he is as a person. And arm or no arm, he is still Finn.

But as satisfying as I found the episode to be overall, I still have some lingering questions! What happened to the Candy Kingdom that resulted in it getting totally razed in the future? Why was the Prizeball Guardian built? What happened to Marceline and Bubblegum, given that they, in their own ways, can evade death in various ways? These of course are questions that will likely never be answered, and they certainly can be filled in in the minds of fans, but these quandaries are probably going to bother me for awhile! (Heck, I just want to know what Marceline and Bubblegum’s future looks like: I don’t really care too much about that other jazz!)

As I write this, I’m both happy and heartbroken: I’m happy because my favorite show of all time has just aired perhaps the most satisfying finale that I have ever seen. I’m heartbroken because the story is now over.

But hold on.

Like BMO and Co. sing in “Time Adventure”, just because the story is over from my point of view does not mean it has slipped away into the ether of oblivion.

It’s comforting to think that in the fourth-dimensional view of existence, I still am in that rec room with my friends, watching “Sons of Mars” for the first time. In a way, I’m eternally laughing and smiling at the jokes. I’m eternally still realizing what a wonderful program Adventure Time really is.

And in that way, it’s true what they say: the fun will never end.

Final Grade:

Season Grade: Were this a standard season, I would probably have been a little harder on it. The Gum War, having been developed two or so episodes, really came out of nowhere and needed more time to be properly developed. It also seems a little odd that the series finale is at least partially focused on an antagonist who was only introduced this season. But these issues were not the fault of the production staff; they were problems with the show being cancelled by the network and the staff having to tidy-up everything before it was all over. Muto et al. honestly did the best they can with the hands they were dealt. And make no mistake, the result is pretty good, even if things are rushed. Yes, there is a lot to love about season 10. It’s got humor and heart, action and adventure, and plenty of romance! It’s not my favorite season by any means (that’s a tie between season 4 and 7), but its episodes are definitely in the upper-tier of the series, as far as quality goes.

Series Grade: Do I even need to say this?

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