#will also make the hex boys...eventually...hopefully

Steb x Gn! Reader

The raid on Piltover starts and the tension rises noticeably amongst everybody in the city. Though for you, it’s different.

Summary: You’re stuck in a time loop; One that repeats your day every time you fail to save Steb.

TW!! Warnings/Content!: TW! Suicide!!! (from the reader), Death, Angst, No happy ending, also ngl there isn’t as much Steb in here as I would’ve liked but eh 🤷

Word Count: 4.1k Quick mention: rushed and not proofread, ngl i got impatient with this.

Now, on with the show!

───• ° . 𓆟 ° ⋅☼⋅ •  . 𓆟 . °───

Pearlescent clouds drag across the horizon, reflecting the new dawn's bronze light brilliantly. From the oceanside to the polished gold atop buildings, the morning landscape would blind you unapologetically; glittering like a beacon of the coast. 

You woke up to a morning that– given different circumstances– would’ve been too comfortable for you to leave your bed. It was an eerie calm that settled in the air of your room, unfiltered light beginning their glow between the cracks of your curtains. 

A resounding knock at the door snaps you out of your reverie, making you sigh wearily as you receive new orders from the messenger from behind the door. Just great. With an annoyed grunt you get up, parting the cloth just a bit to let out the cool remnants of the twilight, marveling at the russet sky burning to brass. Lighting up the white feathers of birds that soar past, taking the chance to admire the sight of what you have before… well, before what awaits you today. 

The Noxian raid against Piltover.

You watched as grand ships sailed towards the jewel of the city. Standing with your back to the hex-gate, hands tightening against the metallic weapon in your hands, ready to defend your home from the foreign invaders.

You unconsciously relax as you catch an aquamarine figure grow in your peripheral. Expression softening slightly as your fingers slide and pull away from the hex-weapon in your grasp, raising an arm to give the blue eyed boy a playful nudge to the side. You turn your head to him, offering a grin, one that only he could manage to draw out at a time like this. 

You have half a mind to tell him that, throw out a comment and make him privy to your affections for him. Maybe you will, one day, when this is all over; as for now, you shall stand unwavering by his side.

“Beautiful sunrise this mornin’ hm?” You muse, though your solemn tone betrays your friendly words. “Hey Steb-,” You sigh halfway, giving up on a witty remark and instead choosing something more fitting. You shake your head lightly, dawning a lax smile as you turn to face the foreboding ships that stalk the waters. “Whatever happens, keep yourself safe Steb, got it?”

It was simple– not as personal as you’d like– but hopefully it’ll do the job. He doesn’t seem to mind your choice of textbook reassurance words as he gives you a nod, eye softening as he watches your profile. He quietly decides that he’ll make sure that you keep yourself safe too.

Finally, he resets his posture and stands beside you dutifully. Ready for war.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

A baritone war-cry accompanies a hefty silhouette that knocks you down, leaving to you watch in fear as the hulking soldier lifts his spear with the intent to drive it down into you chest– A similar shout is heard from your left as your teal savior drives a dagger between the plating of the Noxians armor, the injury forcing the attacker to stumble and slump to the ground. You huff, catching your breath as you turn your attention to Steb who dashes to your side, careful eyes of a trained medic studying your condition as they look you up and down before eventually looking you in the face with concern.

You return his gaze with a grateful one, “Yeah– yeah ‘m alright,” only half-convinced yourself you try to assure him, shakily chuckling thanks to your nerves, you manage to give him a thankful nod, taking his hand as he helps you up to–

Thwish!

His body falls.

Thump.

“Steb!”

The shout tears from your throat before you can stop it, lurching upward from your place on the ground, gasping for air, eyes wide in shock. instinctively, you raise a hand to drag down your face before pulling away to look at it, expecting to see the same crimson that splattered onto your lap. 

You freeze, reeling your hand back and away from its search as you refocus your gaze. Your bed. Your pillow, your room, your… window? 

How the hell did you get here? Your brow twitches in thought, instantly you look down and rip the blanket off yourself, searching for injuries. No bandages, bruises, cuts, or any sign of physical harm. You weren't knocked out were you? No, you can remember the last moments clear as day. There’s no fogginess to the way you fell, to Steb as you accepted his help, to the arrow that pierced through his neck. 

The arrow.

The arrow that…

Your heart is barely given a second to beat, frozen in place as your eyes widen in shock. Steb. he, he–

Your hand slaps over your mouth in shock, tears unknowingly pricking at the corners of your eyes, you hum and force your eyes closed to re-assess. A shaky breath is all that fills the silent room, your thoughts become a raging whirlpool filled with blame and disbelief, making the world inaudible to you as your ears are stuffed with cotton.

The only sound that breaks through is a knock on the door. A triadic rap that sounds vaguely familiar.

You muster just enough of your composure to call out, albeit frustratedly, and glance up with furrowed brows as you half-listen to the tenor voice beyond the heavy door. New orders about your position, moved to the front of the hex-gate. Word-for-word, you remember them from yesterday morning. An awful feeling rushes through from head to toe, shivering at the inkling of déjà vu, your breakdown slightly suspended as the feeling meddles with your judgement.

Sliding out of bed and tiptoeing to the window, you push the curtains aside, a light gasp is drawn out by the staggering ships. Broad and imposing, you grit your teeth at the sight of them, but somethings off.

The city is unsullied by dust, grime, or even a speck of blood.

Regardless, the ships are returning. Your job isn’t done.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You walk by the day in a daze. 

Over the first half-hour outside your room you’ve come to the realization that you were terribly mistaken in your perception of time. That this was the morning of the raid, not yesterday– in fact your ‘yesterday’ had to have been some oddly lucid dream that you still have trouble believing. Try as you might, there's a feeling of uncertainty that you can’t seem to shake off, even when you hear light footsteps approaching your flank.

You try to remedy your spastic heart the moment you see him. Chest feeling airy as a heavy weight has been lifted at the realization that your baseless concern was proven wrong: Steb wasn’t dead. It seems as though your brain conjured a sick nightmare as the aquatic man you know and love stands beside you again, alive and well. You find yourself smiling with upturned brows, relief practically seeping through your bones, releasing your taut grip upon your arcane weapon. The glittering cobalt orb that sparks below your fingers could never compare to the ones before you.

“Steb,”

You pause as he turns to look at you, his earnest full attention often catching you off guard. Your half-assed cocky comment dies on your tongue as you look at him, rethinking carefully, what should you even say? You could be confident, but that sounds so insincere, if these could be your last words to him you’d rather not say something stupid. Your last words to him…

Oh God… Could you admit your feelings?

To your irrational mind, the dream felt like maybe a second chance, maybe you should take it.

You swallow thickly at the idea, no, of course not. Now would be the worst time to admit something heavy like that, there’s no point in getting him worked up for something that's your problem. You won’t dump that burden upon him now.

“I have something to tell you. So live, alright?” You return his gaze with a determination that swells in your chest, “Survive Steb. I won’t take anything else for an answer.” 

Whatever answer you receive in the form of a look or gesture, you don’t pay attention to it. Gaze turned steely at the thought of your foes, refusing to pass up this opportunity to fix your mistakes.

You decided to use your awful case of déjà vu to your advantage, somewhat testing your luck in the process, but as it turns out– it has come in rather handy in regards to a strike here and there. Finding yourself avoiding a few mistakes you’d made in your “dream”, you ought to think about it later on after the battle, though the itching feeling of misfortune never left you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You hear a cry.

Your world goes dark.

Your eyes shoot open and in a panic you whip your head to the side, your hands feel empty, frantically grappling for a weapon within reach. Soft bed sheets and plush pillows grace the nerves upon your fingertips, sliding against- Wait, soft? You pause in your scrambling and look down slowly, taking the fabric in your hand as your brain stalls. 

No.

That can’t be right, what sick joke of a nightmare is this? You throw the covers off yourself as you stumble haphazardly out of bed, tearing your way to the window and shoving the curtains away as you look down to the streets. 

Clean and untouched. The polished white stone and golden inlay remain void of scarlet streaks.

A knock on the door.

No, no, no, no. No!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

What the fuck is happening.

You walk by in suspicion, haunted by knowledge of the coming events. 

You’re beyond anxious, what kind of screwed up dream could that be? To have a dream within a dream and wake up twice, is that even possible? You let out a breathless laugh, mirthless as your chest feels hollow. “What a bad omen” you manage to slip, your muttering catching Stebs attention as he raises a brow at you before returning his attention forward. Your unfocused gaze follows suit, quiet and eerie, you are unable to discern if the ships look closer this time or not.

Everything was the same. Both times– well, three times now– have just been ghosts of the day before.

Is that it? What the hell is the point of the day resetting if you're just doomed to reach the final destination of this nightmare.

That's not right, you held him this time. 

The world went black before you could feel the warmth seep from his body, thankfully, but you could feel it this time, unlike the days before. His last breath that ended pained gasps and sputters. You got to watch as the light left his eyes. The thought makes you angrily wipe away a tear, but your gaze hardens to one of determination. It was different, it can change.

You were grasping at straws, but with your predicament, it was worth everything in the world to you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Not him, please, why of all the people did it have to be the one who captured your heart. The aquatic man with gentle hands and eyes too soft for his sharp features. The kind medic who would’ve preferred to help lives over harming them. 

You’ve tried and failed again at following your orders. What good will it do if you can’t stop an army's worth of attacks from killing the one person you care most about in this pretentious city full of high and mighty assholes.

Enough of this running around and expecting everything to go right out of sheer blind luck, you can’t afford to keep getting distracted.

It’s been proven you can change things, now you have to test the limits– without ruining your own image in case it does end up working to break the loop you’re stuck in.

So, time to try something drastic, however stupid and see the outcome.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

That little rule of yours didn’t last long, at this point you didn’t give a shit about your “image” anymore. So much for that– how could you even dare to prioritize that over the life of your comrades? Of your friends?

A thump crashes against your back, the wooden door behind you bending back into place after the hit. You wince slightly, remembering where you are now, it’s an increasingly bad habit to space out like this. 

“Hey–” you start out evenly before another bang hits the door, forcing you to stumble forward  before you push back against it, “Hey! It’s me!” You shout in protest, and you faintly hear the man's feet shuffle again. You could only wonder what thoughts ran through his head as he woke up locked in some random enclosed space– a janitor room to be exact.

“Listen Steb! You- You’re gonna die okay? It’s- no, I gotta keep you safe.” 

You stammer for your words, not having found the proper explanation for him if or when he woke up, you did kind of hit him rather hard upside the head. You sigh, letting your head fall back and lightly hitting the door you lean on.  

“I’m sorry, I know that–” Another bang smacks at your skull. “I know you won’t understand! But I have to, alright!?” you plead, keep a tight hold on his tonfas that you took and used interlocked on the door to keep it shut.

You fall quiet as the minutes tick away, the dawn inching so slowly to noon. You consider yourself beyond lucky that there weren’t any passerbys, choosing an unassuming room in a scarcely used passage. Stebs' barrage of attempts to break out were eventually stifled, though the sounds of clattering and shuffling of what seemed to be boxes and bags could be heard. 

He never knows when to give up, always driven. 

The thought, such of little comfort, still brings a small smile to your face. After a moment, you decide to slide down, ignoring how your uniform ruffles unpleasantly at being pressed against the wood as you come to a sit. “Y’know” You start, quiet and muffled to him, but you can imagine his spiny ear flickering. Cute.

You note that the sounds cease for a minute before returning, barely stopping his search for something to use to escape. Oh, yeah– you were saying something? He even stopped to listen. It made your heart lurch at his thoughtfulness in even the worst situations.

“You’re too fucking good of a person Steb.” You say, a sudden anger that bubbles in your gut and overflows into a venom on your tongue. “How dare you. I can’t let you throw away your life like this, I don’t care about your duty or honor or whatever the fuck you chose to be an enforcer for,” You gasp, lungs feeling empty as you pay little attention to your blurring vision, “But I refuse to let you die! To let the world lose something– someone so, so–” 

A sharp whistling goes ignored.

In your teary eyed vision, you can’t even begin to make out the concrete that crumbles and gives way to a cannonball.

A strangled shout rips at your vocal cords. 

The sound makes your door-knocking harasser call out in concern.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Facing the floor below would remind you of the blood to be spilled, And facing the sky above you bring all your memories to him and his stupid cornflower colored iris. You close your eyes, grunting in annoyance at his dastardly ways of flooding your mind at any time of day. How silly you are, somehow still getting wrapped up in this awful little crush of yours you can’t stand it. 

“Focus, dumbass”

You grumble kicking a stray rock, face scrunched in frustration at your series of continued failed attempts. You felt like such a stupid fool in disobeying direct orders and ending up in no different a situation in the end.

What an idiot blinded by hope, thinking you could change your new fate by such fickle means. 

Hope? No, desperation.

Even now you feel like a coward. Each step taken to create distance between you and piltover's looming presence etched a cavity into your dignity, your honor, for abandoning your friends. The only thought pushing you forward and away from the fight was the hope that something might happen differently, even if you weren’t a part of it. 

Would you have to label yourself a traitor for leaving? Most likely, but it was a small price to pay.

You don’t even make it halfway through the city before your sight is suddenly enveloped by darkness.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

After so many “days”, you picked up your weapon. The arcane thrumming beneath your grasp and reverberating in your mind, the idea flashed for a moment before being snuffed out the second you realized the implications.

What if you were the one who killed him?

Like being struck, you threw the weapon down, careless to the sound of the valuable machine crashing against the floor. You stumble back and swallow thickly, the guilt immediately making itself known. No. You’d live a thousand times over before resorting to doing the very thing you’re trying to prevent.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Could you try explaining it to him? Again? You had tried to allude to the idea on the fourth morning, in the end you sounded more like a paranoid fool worrying about the day– which was understandable. Though on the seventh morning you brought it up without any thought behind your intentions, muddled words and half-baked assumptions that changed his perception of you; mentioning how you’d managed to survive to see what became of Maddie, it was a mistake to try and explain that to him. Oh how your heart squeezes at the memory of the look he gives you, the disbelief and hurt when you tell him Maddie’s a spy. Accusing his friend, one longer than you have been, of being a traitor? His disappointment hurt you more than you could've ever expected.

Your heart beats erratically at the thought, it’s too unprepared– too hasty of a decision. You doubt you’d get anywhere with the limited time you have to explain, much like last time. Strewn out guesses and trailing off conclusions that didn’t get you anywhere, it more often than not put you and Steb in worse conditions. There was so little you knew, as it seems that whatever curse that’s consumed your waking moment has been hellbent on preventing you learning anything useful about your predicament. With no lead to track or even the chance to follow it if you did have a clue, you were absolutely lost.

You slide your hand out, knocking your helmet off the table unceremoniously in an attempt to ground yourself, clutching the oaken hardwood with stiffened gloves that you can only hope lessen the shake that you hold yourself with.

A pained groan escapes you, screwing your eyes shut as your heart tightens, the burn that flares at your closed lids, warning you of tears. You exhale sharply, almost scoffing at yourself for unraveling, shakily inhaling and holding your breath afterwards. Getting your breathing under control wasn’t difficult, but it took a certain amount of patience to allow your feelings to choke out before stuffing them back into a dark corner. 

Your foot madly taps at the resounding flooring, almost losing yourself in the sound before a hollow knock steals your attention. Your head snaps a bit in the direction, pausing for a moment to slowly rise, intending to give the intruder a glare.

 “Can I hel–” 

Startlingly baby blue eyes.

Wide. Dull. They lack their shine.

Your words catch in your throat, the aching feeling that subsided now threatens to return tenfold. You tear your eyes away from him, not willing to fall into the trance his glimmering gaze causes.

You can’t bear to think of his eyes now. Not now.

Half-lidded, they rest unfocused. His muscles relax as his breath is ripped away by an iron blade.

Your face tightens impossibly, twisting in all the fancy words for hurt.

You shouldn’t have to know what he would look like, like that. If it would save you the sight, you’d avoid his gaze for the rest of your life. Oh how your gut turns with every step he takes, approaching you in a way that makes you ashamed for forcing your head down. Forcing yourself away from him.

He tilts his head slightly as glances down at your helmet on the floor. There’s a silence in the air that grows heavier by the second. Seeing your lack of initiative to speak, he continues his approach to your side, stopping within arms reach.

“Steb.” You acknowledge him, loose and in passing– as if bumping into him in a hallway before continuing on. 

The ribbing along his eyes stir, a rather expressive motion in consideration to his otherwise impassive exterior. His ears swivel and flicker, subtle shifts in his face as he determines what could be your issue, his eye flickering between your wavering arms and your stuttering breath. His hand reaches out to rest on your shoulder in a comforting manner, tentative and ready to pull away if needed.

What he doesn’t expect however, is for you to turn and pull him forward, not giving him a second to think as you crash into him. He stumbles back, a grunt escaping his chest as you knock some of the wind out of him. His eyes widen as he looks down at you, keeping your head bowed low and pressing your forehead to his shoulder while his hands hover over your back hesitantly.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered into the armored shoulder of his navy uniform, feeling the warmth of his hands as they gently came to rest on your back, returning the embrace despite his confusion. 

He lets out a hum, curious, and the sound nearly rattles your skeleton with how much pressure you press against him. You sigh shakily into his shoulder as you allow yourself this one moment of peace, clutching onto the back of his uniform like a lifeline. “Can we just,” you muffle into his shoulder, “Can we just stay here, like this, for a while?” You ask, practically pleading, in a quiet voice that makes him hold you impossibly closer.

After given a moment to think, he hums again in a complaisant manner this time as he tilts his head ever so slightly to rest atop yours.

His comfort nearly makes your heart shatter, and you’re not sure if you can stave off the waterworks this time.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You awaken. 

Eyes shoot open and there’s a flinch that racks your body, but you stay down this time. You don’t make a move to acknowledge your given orders, remaining quiet enough to hear the faint shouts as the city around you as the people ready to arms. You haven’t slept in days, you realize, and close your eyes with a weary sigh.

Facing the ceiling, you’re tempted to fight the tears that begin to arise but you ultimately allow it to pass. You wonder if his tears would be as pitiful as yours, would he be given the chance to cry at all.

Maybe if he were the one crying in your place.

﹌﹌﹌﹌

You stand on the marble balustrade. You’ve stood on this overlook so many times now, and the vertigo has never been worse. 

“Hey Steb..?”

He looks at you. Before you met him, you’d argue that there were only so many ways to describe someone’s eyes. Insist that you could only use the words ‘soft’ or ‘bright’ or whatever obscure color so many times before it all becomes nonsensical. But with this man, you believe even the most illiterate fool could compose a thousand poems with just one glance.

God, please save me from this torment. Save him.

“I love you.”

You don’t take the chance to register his reaction. Ever the coward, ever the fool, you shy away from his answer, too afraid and ashamed of your selfishness. 

Up to this point, you haven’t tried killing yourself. One of your last resorts.

His eyes get lost among the brilliant sky. The roaring hurricane in your ears grows as you plummet, your gut feels the familiar pull down; accompanied by all the guilt you carry. Finally letting it drop, you go right along with it.

He calls your name, though you cannot hear it, his shout becoming lost throughout the wind whipping past your ears. Your blood is the first to stain the floor that morning.

Your vision is as dark as the night that you hope comes to pass.

﹌﹌﹌

.

.

.

───• ° . 𓆟 ° ⋅☼⋅ •  . 𓆟 . °───

A/N: Yello! Damn uh! I finally finished something! I struggle to commit to my projects so i'm surprised i managed to get this out, and honestly this only took so long as it did because i spent most my days playing minecraft 😭🙏

Some goods dropped by Disney at CinemaCon earlier tonite.

HEXED, the new original Walt Disney Animation Studios film from director Josie Trinidad and Jason Hand, stars Hailee Steinfeld as lead character Billie Doe, and Rashida Jones as her mother. Originally announced at Destination D23 this past August as the story of a teen *boy* and his mom, now it's a teen girl. The concept art shown at Destination D23 has the boy character, and - again - that was this past August... The changes must've been super last minute here.

Some footage was shown, but little was revealed about the story beyond what we learned at Destination D23. Other than Doe turning out to be a witch, herself.

In addition to changing the main character's gender, they also changed the logo...

While I like the moon locking into the "E" and "D", I honestly kinda prefer the previous one.

Wavier and fun, neat letterforms, and I like how they are magicking away.

Footage was shown, too. Mostly a scene of Doe being questioned by a talking book and quill, both of them having English accents.

First look...

Not my photo, obviously. Credit to whoever got it.

So, in terms of visuals, it's a typical CGI WDAS movie. But no matter, the original movie of theirs that's set for 2028 is - according to the studio's leader Jared Bush - going to go for a whole new look.

Outside of sequels to past favorites, HEXED could very well be the last of the house style films. Maybe. Wishful thinking, perhaps? Things often change at Disney Animation, and that a style that had been commonplace for years eventually fades away. Certainly, the main style of the '50s features didn't last into the '60s with the advent of Xerography, and once the new animators had the keys to the car in the '80s, things changed once more. You get the idea. HEXED was in active development before the leadership switch in fall 2024, it's just the feature pipeline they've been working with for a long, long while, so it doesn't surprise me that the film looks like that. Well, at least the two main characters. The other stuff remains to be seen by those of us who didn't go to CinemaCon, or are within the halls of WDAS lol...

Anyways, hopefully a trailer comes out soon. Maybe towards the end of May, before the new STAR WARS movie. If not that, then definitely before TOY STORY 5 in mid-June. Like old times.

Outside of this film, Disney also showed some footage from 20th Century's ICE AGE: BOILING POINT, and now we have an idea of how the characters look in the first ICE AGE movie not made at Blue Sky Studios.

Not too much of a change from the previous films, the style looks a little softer here, but plenty of detail still. We have to see it in motion, how Bardel Entertainment - who the animation was outsourced to - pulled it off. Nice to see Baby Scrat's in this, as he had appeared in SCRAT TALES, the last production to come out of Blue Sky outside of their work on NIMONA before everything shut down. Curiously, still no word on who directed, and who wrote, etc.

Little else. GATTO, from Pixar, got some spotlight, but that's about it. Nothing on the other 2027 Disney animated releases: BLUEY: THE MOVIE, THE SIMPSONS MOVIE 2, FROZEN III...

Disney didn't do a whole-hog slate of movies or announce any new titles, and it makes sense, given that CinemaCon is really more for the theatrical exhibition industry than it is for movie fans and such. Warner and Paramount laid down a bunch of new 2027-2028 titles, but Disney already has a lot of those on their schedule already, though many of them are still untitled. Again, CinemaCon isn't really the place where the big studios often do that.

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: The great 141 road trip is fine in the beginning, but being on the road for eleven hours clearly gets to everyone, especially you. For once, Ghost tries to show you some genuine compassion without any ulterior motives. 

A/N: Thought that this would not only be a fun part to write, but also a breather to get to develop more character dynamics. Feel free to comment what you think each member of the 141 favorite music genre is! Including your own~

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Such a long drive was new territory for the boys. They were so used to helicopter rides, armored cars, and jets to take them where they needed to go fast. For their size and stature, the minivan was cramped, slightly rough on the road, and just plain weird. It took a few seat adjustments before everyone was as comfortable as they could be. Save for Gaz. He just prayed that a pit stop was coming soon and someone would be willing to switch seats with him.

For the first hour, the ride was noisy with conversation. Conversation that tried to reel you in. Price, looking through the front windshield, asked you a question. “How do you know where you’re going, Hex?”

“I’ve spent time memorizing road maps around the area. We’re taking a back road. A scenic route. Any other cars on the road would further see this minivan as a family road trip through the country.” You elaborated, your eyes steady on the road ahead. There were a lot of twists and turns on this route, but you knew that it would pay out in the end.

“Hidden in plain sight.” Soap added, his tone showing that he was a bit impressed with the logic of it all. Perhaps you knew what you were doing after all. Without you meaning to or doing anything extraordinary, the group was slowly starting to trust you and your judgment as evidenced by your creative planning. You were becoming quite the leader as well. But, you weren’t completely out of the woods yet. They still kept some of their guards up, just in case.

“There’s a method to the madness. Don’t underestimate the power of assumptions.” You advised, a word of advice that would hopefully stick with them after all of this was over. If they listened, perhaps some problems the world was facing could actually be solved. 

Soap pulled out his phone with the intention of making this trip more enjoyable. Making sure that his VPN you required was turned on, he began to browse through songs using his music app. Once he added his favorite songs, he passed it to his captain. “Whatever you want, Cap. No genre limits.”

Also, aren't delphi and scorpius cousins?

OK using this as an excuse to make a Scorbus cc dark world au post... this got longer than I expected but I really had to tell you all EVERYTHING about them. (From until they are 15 atleast.

So let's tackle 2 questions at once. Aren't Delphi and Scorpius cousins and How did Scorpius and Albus meet, as they link together

So originally I was going to make it so Scorpius and Albus met whilst Scorpius was in his first year of Hogwarts, and Albus was sent by Delphi to give a message to Headmaster Umbridge. But then I thought... why wouldn't they meet beforehand? The Malfoys are incredibly close to the Dark Lord, and now their family's are interlinked! (Just processed that Voldemort is Scorpius Uncle. Holy fuck)

So I changed it up a bit...

For quick context, during the first few months of Albus being taken by Delphi, he was very stubborn on not doing what she wanted, but eventually he gave up and began to become much more pliant out of fear. At this point. He was never allowed to be alone in the Manor or leave the Manor without Delphi being there with him. In this au, we will conclude that although Lucius is extremely unhappy with the marriage of Draco and Astoria, he will not kick them out of the family as Scorpius could still be an amazing Wizard and useful asset to the Dark Lord when he grows older.

SO! Then comes the day where Delphi goes to the Malfoy Manor with her mother to visit her Aunt Narcissa. Albus comes in tow. Delphi is extremely excited to show off her new pet to her relatives and hopefully get dowsed in praise of being so good at training the little thing. With an added Bonus of rubbing it in her little cousins face, who she likes to tease for being soft. Now she has her own halfblood pet, and he doesn't! (What a spoiled and terrifying 15 year old girl)

We cut to the introduction. Delphi is hyping Albus up to high heavens and Lucius Is just gently asking her to PLEASE keep the mangy thing off his furniture. Her protests would be silenced by Bellatrix, and she'd storm off to finally find her cousin so she could have some fun.

Scorpius, 8 years of age (he turned 8 just last month, Albus still has until August), would be in his room, ofcourse, tearing up some book pages and crumpling them into balls so he can play a game of "No broom quidditch". In the universe, Scorpius is indeed vindictive and cruel and would find pleasure in watching others suffer... But he has something in there. Much like Draco, who was a terrible boy, but still clearly had doubts on joining the darkside, a reluctance to kill anyone, and slithers of empathy. This was thanks to his mother, who would always treat him so much sweetly than anyone else would. She was soft and kind and encouraging, but she wasn't able to turn him away from the real world for long. Draco shaped Scorpius into the villainous Bully he is in Hogwarts, because he knew it was the only way he could survive. He didn't want Astoria turning him soft, he knew what would happen then. Despite this, Scorpius was hardly physically punished unless by Lucius. ANYWHO. Delphi bursts into his room and shakes Albus about infront of him, laughing to herself and talking about how she's so much better than Scorpius now, because SHE has a pet and HE doesn't! Scorpius does feel some jealousy but mostly he doesn't care, and just tells Delphi to not let him touch his things, else to leave any halfblood grime on it.

Albus thought the boy was rude, but he'd experienced worse and was just glad they didn't start taking turns hexing him. His eyes lingered on the boys platinum hair, which is messy infront of his eyes, before getting quickly pulled out the roon by a still angry Delphi.

After this they only meet a handful of times, as Albus gets trusted to be kept locked in a room by himself when he finally turns 8 in August. Never speaking besides a small nod from Albus and a scowl from Scorpius. When Albus begins his training at 9, they don't see eachother again until they are both 11 and the first part I mentioned happens.

Scorpius thinks the halfblood looks fairly different now. His hair is still slightly greasy, lanky where it looks like there should be volume, coils loose where they look like they should be tight. His face is just barely visibly sallow, which is still too sallow for his age, but his skin looks clean enough and he doesn't carry a unwashed stench like the rest of the servants he's seen while in the Dark Lords Manor. But the part he notices most is the fact the vibrant green eyes from before, the only thing he truly took notice of when they met at age 7, are now a deeper, murkier colour, and seem to be sunken from lack of sleep or stress. (Okay Scorpius kinda weird you remember that much about the guy you claim to not care about.)

For Albus? Well... Scorpius looked more or less the same. He still had that platinum blonde hair and fair skin, a single mole blemishing it underneath his eye. He tried not to look alot as he passed the hall, as he was sure he felt the familiar sensation of someone staring at him, and didn't want to possibly make eyecontact with the boy. But... Well Albus was a little curious about him, and decided he'd try talk to him at some point.

Even so, they never actually talked, Scorpius just looked at Albus alot more whenever he could, and Albus did the same. He was alot better at hiding it ofcourse, Scorpius seemed to have no care for the people around him and just did what he wanted, but Albus knew he could get in trouble if he looked too hard at a Malfoy.

Delphi... Well she took notice. See, she was 19 now, and took pride in being the so called "Augurey". Her little Munin though... he had been off. Asking her questions about her cousin and if the Malfoys were coming over to visit anytime soon. Delphi, never one to get in the path of love (wow, she's so romantic), decided she'd give her pet a new gift! A playdate in the summer with Scorpius!

It went.. uphill??? From there??? See, Lucius was really not a fan of leaving his grandchild alone with Harry Potters child, but Draco seemed to have limited qualms, and Astoria was rather supportive. Bellatrix and Voldemort... Well they didn't care what their daughter did with her pet, as long as she cleaned up whatever mess he made afterwards. The actual playdate seemed to be a hit, as a few days afterwards she caught Munin reading a letter from her cousin. Delphi was such a good pet owner!

In reality, Scorpius had spent the whole time talking about Hogwarts and making off handed remarks about Albus' blood and his father, before going on a long rant about the Mudblood one of his older friends allowed him to take a swing at ("I broke its jaw see, a Muggle way of fighting, but Nott made the winning blow by stomping on its head! There was blood all over my robes, and all my friend were jealous."). Albus, well he didn't mind. He was used to being around purebloods talking about him that way, and was even more used to seeing the murder of mudbloods up close. When Scorpius took a breath midway through another speech, Albus decided to throw that fact in, and Scorpius was INTERESTED. He kept asking Albus for details and then going off on a ramble about how HE would've done it if he was there. In the end, Scorpius finally let Albus touch him for a small handshake, and he swore he'd owl Albus at some point with more questions and story's.

As time progressed, they got closer! Albus would find himself taking a few hours longer on messages through Hogwarts to visit Scorpius. Sometimes he'd just leave the Manor without an excuse to go see him. In Summers, he was sneaking into Malfoy Manor or they'd both meet up at Hogsmeade. Their topics of conversation went from being purely about blood status and murder, to being Albus helping Scorpius study so he doesn't have to keep asking for people to do his homework, and them talking about the funny things they see Delphi do, or spilling secrets ("I've never actually killed somebody before" Scorpius would mutter, as if embarrassed. "It's okay. It isn't really all that fun" Albus would reply). There was even a time where Narcissa REQUESTED Albus' presence in Malfoy Manor to try calm down their grandchild, who was having a panic attack upon receiving the news of his Mother's death. He never actually confirmed it, but he's pretty sure Draco might have whispered a "Thank you." whilst he was passing the dining room Albus and Scorpius were gorging all sorts of deserts in.

So yes! Thats the answer to that... um. A bit long. My apologies. But onto the MAIN part where I just jabber about their feelings.

Scorpius doesn't actually understand that he has a crush on Albus. He knows he feels differently around him from other people, and especially different from when he's around other halfbloods, but he figures it's just him being grateful of the fact he has a real friend. And so what if most people don't get unbearably jealous upon seeing their bestfriend blushing around their unbearable cousin? Scorpius is a Malfoy, they don't have to explain themselves! But even then... He just can't stand it. Sometimes he thinks maybe he wants to hurt Albus, as he's used to getting butterflies in his stomach when he is out hunting Mudblood with his schoolmates. But these butterflies seem different. Like they are all on fire and that's why he finds himself turning an embarrassing red when Albus bumps his shoulder whilst laughing or rubs his arm in encouragement. And hey, don't say you wouldn't also feel some way about the guy who comforted you when your dear mother died, and taught you that useful trick for breathing. But Albus is just a pet, Scorpius knows that, and he knows that he can't let anyone besides his own family see him around the halfblood. It's shameful and he knew if well... there was a universe where he DID harbour feelings for Albus (which he doesn't, thie ie hypothetical he swears), he would never be able to pursue it. He'd be a blood traitor, doing more than meerily fraternising with Potters son, he'd end the Malfoy line, get kicked out from his family home. It simply wouldn't be worth it.

Albus on the other hand knows he has a crush on Scorpius, but is unwilling to do anything about it. He is solely dedicated to Delphi, and holds silent resentment for Scorpius despite his feelings. Scorpius, although grown calmer and shown Albus how vulnerable he can be, is still a bad person. And he has grown from the 11 year old boy who told him he was scared of killing anybody. Albus had saw Scorpius in his cruelest state firsthand, saw him laughing as he dodges the squirt of blood that came from whatever wixen that had been rumored to be a muggleborn sympathiser. But still, he's in love, and he curses himself for always falling for people he knows he really can't have. Delphi... Well she was his master. He knew she only viewed him as a pet to spoil and do her bidding. Scorpius is different that way. Maybe Albus is just imagining things but there a way Scorpius looks at him which is different than how he looks at others. It's like he actually sees him, and you can't blame him if that makes Albus' heart flutter. Albus, much like Scorpius, knows a real relationship between the two wouldn't be possible. Delphi wouldn't allow it, Voldemort wouldn't allow it, god knows the Malfoys wouldn't allow it. But still. Its... Well, Albus doesn't think he'll lose feelings anytime soon, even if he trys .

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none

IM BACK! i’ve been struggling with motivation to write, i feel like my little blog is dead :( if you read any of what i write i’d love for you to comment or something, it really helps !! i hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote, i love ced. he’s the ideal man. thursday will hopefully be the day i finally update prideful piloting lmao. love you all !! have a gorgeous day or night !!

it was moments like this that you wished time would stop.

the suns rays shone through the windows of the charms classroom, gracing everything with their golden glow, making the room look as if midas himself had touched it.

and that made you wish that everything around you would halt.

not too far away, perhaps three seats over, sat cedric diggory, and he seemed to gleam in the warm rays of light.

you quickly shifted your lingering gaze back to professor flitwick, in fear of being caught looking at the boy.

you were in charms class, but cedric had seemed to cast a different charm on you.

you were practicing your blue sparks now, watching them twinkle in the warm glow of the room, when he approached your desk.

“hey, (y/n) is it?” he was leaning over your seat, and you tried your best not to outwardly admire his facial features.

“yeah, what’s up?” you had to ask, i mean how often does a boy like cedric diggory approach you in the middle of charms?

not often, you figured, since he’s at like the top of class.

“i’ve been struggling a bit with transfiguration, and you’re the brightest person in the class. do you think you could help me out a little?” he wore a boyish smile, and his eyes were bright and inviting as he asked you.

it was quite odd, considering you thought cedric was one of the top students of your year.

but, you still agreed, because he was a kind boy, and who were you to deny him?

“id be happy to, cedric.” your soft smile mirrored his, and he nodded and gave you a time to meet him at the library.

one thing you didn’t miss, however, were the subtle glances your way as cedric left your desk.

everybody did admire the boy, seeing as he was deemed golden by the students of hogwarts. it almost made you jealous, seeing that everyone wished they were in your place, but you realized that it was silly to be jealous- you and cedric were barely even friends.

you met him that night, just as the sun was going down.

the library was painted a pinkish gold, and even madam pince seemed to admire the hue, seeing as she looked a bit more lighter than usual.

you spotted cedric at a small table and walked up to him with a smile.

he looked at you softly, adoration in his eyes, as he watched your hair fall into place almost like dominoes would; he always had been quite fond of muggle games.

you went over the areas he claimed to be struggling with, and helped him with small things like position, until you brushed your hand against his and felt your face heat up. soon after was when you discovered a pattern.

he wasn’t really struggling, and he always threw the spell on purpose. you were a bit puzzled, so you called him out on it after his third time failing the same spell.

“cedric, i know you aren’t actually struggling with transfiguration.”

you gave a small and airy laugh at his slightly shocked expression.

“what do you mean?” he said, playing dumb and hoping you weren’t going to hex him.

he didn’t know that you could never, not to him at least.

“you’re messing them up on purpose, cedric, just tell me why.” you tentatively placed a hand over his, wondering why he would call you to the library to help him study if he didn’t need it.

“i wanted an excuse to see you.” he gave you his award winning smile and turned his hand around so it was now holding yours.

“you could’ve just asked me out, you know that right?” you were being quite bold and your heart was beating quick in response, but if you read the situation right, it was the truth.

“well, now that i know..” his voice was quieter now and his other hand guided hair away from your face, gently pushing it back.

“would you like to go out with me?” a smirk now lay on his face, and you swear your heart was about to burst from your chest as it beat harder and harder each second. the boy you had always admired from afar had not only admitted to finding an excuse to see you but was also asking you out right now.

you managed to speak through the tension in the air, and let yourself whisper a soft “yes.”

he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb and you had the sudden urge to press a kiss to his red flushed cheek.

you pulled away slowly and held his gaze, staring into his glowing brown eyes.

“so, how do you feel about hogsmeade, this weekend?”

“perfect.” and it was.

you had gone to hogsmeade that weekend, and it was indeed perfect. he had treated you well, and you were convinced that cedric diggory was the only boy ever allowed to exist from that moment on. and now, you walked hand in hand back to your common room, because he insisted on walking you back. his warm coat was draped over your shoulders, and you were enveloped in his warm scent, sandalwood and citrus and something else that made it so uniquely him.

when you finally got back, he brought his hand to your cheek just as he did before in the library, and you felt your whole body heat up in response.

“i had a great time today, cedric.” you spoke lightly, contentment clear on your face.

“so did i” he responded, the same peacefulness on his own face, though you could see the longing in his eyes.

he leaned down, so much that his face was a mere centimeter away from your own.

your eyes fluttered and your breathing became a little ragged as he whispered.

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded slightly, and he closed the gap between you right after. you felt like it was a gold rush, and you kissed him back like there was no tomorrow, eyes shut tight as you brought your arms around his neck. if your eyes were opened, you probably would’ve seen the sparks both you and he felt.

you and cedric were both reluctant to pull away, but did eventually in fear of running out of oxygen. his hands rested on your hips, and a swarm of butterflies flapped happily through your whole body.

AKA Comfort Zoe Night

So, this was the first prompt I actually wrote cause it spoke the most to me (the fluffy potential) but then the muses decided to be difficult and I struggled with it until like 2 days before Zoe Week began. I also wound up scrapping my partial first draft and re-writing the first bit to be slightly based off some wonderful Teny art because I realized it could still fic with my idea! (Gotta love great art that inspires) (The art in question is those wonderful pics of Zoe and Douxie as he meets her after a shift at Hextech and then precedes to be a little shit) Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one and hopefully it doesn’t end too abruptly, like I said the muses wanted to be difficult with this one.

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night was clear and cool, something that would usually bring calm to the pink haired witch as she walked home from another busy day at Hex-Tech but not tonight. The day had been absolutely brutal. First she'd had the early shift, which was never fun, then she'd been assigned to the bar for almost the entirety of her shift which meant dealing with all sorts of customers. The irritable, the entitled, the ones that just wouldn't listen, it had almost driven her insane by the time her lunch break arrived. It was only after slurping down a cup of noodles and sending a curse heavy text on how crappy her day had been so far to Douxie that she got the wonderful news that she had to work a double shift. She was so going to curse Dave the next time she saw him, she always got his shifts whenever he didn't come in. And of course that extra shift came with, you guessed it, more bar duty! So Zoe had dealt with double the awful customers! Including two absolute Karen's. Why her managers kept putting her in the front when her talents lay better with the tech itself, she'd never understand.

At least she was finally off for the weekend...

Coming around the last corner before her apartment building, she spied her longtime partner and lover, Hisirdoux, leaning against the chain-link fence, waiting for her. She paused for a moment, taking in the rare relaxed air around him and admiring his bare biceps for a moment before sighing, knowing why he was waiting for her. And usually she'd be ready to go hunt Niffins and take on whatever else they might encounter on a Friday night, especially after the day she had, but she was too beat to do anything more. So shifting her bag in her grip, she made her way closer to the wizard, not looking forward to canceling their plans.

Neville encountered some awful boys that eventually led You, the reader, to help him out 

***Sorry for the long wait- I really liked this prompt and wanted to write it out properly. And this will probably be the last prompt I write for anybody for while (unless I REALLY like it). I have something planned and hopefully it’ll be ready by this weekend *crosses fingers* Hope you enjoy anon! 🤗

The Bunbuster Fart - Sounds like a Beefy One, except much more sudden and much much more powerful. Generally smells eggy or beefy. Leaves your asshole smarting. You really feel these babies.

“How about an after dinner game of Quidditch?”

“You’re on!”

Draco and Hermione exchanged an exasperated but fond look as they watched the Weasleys running out the door, with Ron pulling a laughing Harry along with him.

If someone told Draco a few years ago that he’d be at one of the Weasley’s Sunday Dinners as a welcomed guest and actually find himself enjoying the company of redheads, he would have laughed himself silly before hexing that poor sod for good measure.

But here he was.

And he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but the Burrow at that moment.

“Well, let’s go after them, shall we?” Hermione sighed, as she stood up from her seat.

Draco nodded as he also made his way up, looking behind to see the Weasley matriarch putting away the dishes with some help from Fleur. “Would you like some help, Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly looked up, one of the empty gravy boats in hand, as she grinned and made a shooing gesture at them. “Thank you dear, but you can leave it to me and Fleur here.” Molly gave him a wink. “And it’s Molly to you, remember? Now you all have fun!”

Draco chuckled. “Alright. We’ll see you after the game, Molly.”

“There’ll be some dessert waiting for you all when you return!” She called out to them as the two left.

Draco followed Hermione as they headed to the field, seeing Ginny and Ron already in some sort of argument.

“You ALWAYS get Harry!” Ginny yelled at her brother, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Mens before hens, little sister!” Ron crowed, shielding Harry behind him as if afraid she would physically drag his best friend to her team.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” She argued. She opened her mouth to add something before catching a glimpse at Draco and Hermione in a conversation as they made their way towards them. She paused and a sly grin grew on her face.

“Fine- you can keep the used goods.” Ignoring Harry’s offended “Hey!”, Ginny quickly made her way to the approaching pair and grabbed both their hands, startling the two.

“I get both your better halves on my team then!” She called out.

Ron snorted. “Sure. Malfoy has never once won against Harry and Mione’s never played at all.”

Ginny just smirked at her brother, as she pulled them away and formed a huddle with her team.

“Ok, so today is kind of like the grand championship of all games. Me and Ron are at a dead tie and today is the day we find out who is superior.” Ginny explained to Draco and Hermione. George already knew the rivalry his two youngest siblings had when it came to their family matches.

“I don’t think me playing is a good idea.” Hermione bit her lip, looking her ‘team’ that consisted of Draco, George, her and captained by Ginny. The other team had Harry, Bill, George’s girlfriend, Angelina and was captained by Ron. The referees were Percy and Arthur.

Ginny gave a dark laugh. “No, today will be utterly brilliant.” They came together as Ginny told them of her plan.

“My little sister has gone absolutely bonkers…let do it.” George grinned widely, grabbing his broom.

Even Hermione was smiling.

Draco looked at his boyfriend’s ex with an shocked and impressed look. “And how are you not in Slytherin?”

Ginny lips curved upward. “And break the Weasley tradition? Would’ve given my brothers a heart attack.” She gave a laugh and winked at the wide-eyed look Draco gave her. “What? Harry’s not the only one who can talk a hat into doing what they want.”

(=^w^=)**************************

This had to be one of the most bizarre but downright most fun quidditch games Draco ever played in.

Harry and he were of course the seekers, with Ginny and Angelina as chasers, George and Bill as beaters, and Ron and Hermione as the keepers.

At first, the game went alright, with Ron’s team gaining a lead in the first half.

Which was of course, all according to Ginny’s plan- to give her brother a false sense of security.

And then the second half is where everything went mad.

Draco trailed after his boyfriend and whenever he got too close, he would give accidental brushes here and there, a lingering touch and smile that darkened with barely concealed want that made his beau pause and shiver, completely distracting him from searching for the snitch.

Ron wasn’t faring any better neither. Although he and his girlfriend were on other sides of the field as they protected their respective goals, Hermione would flash him flirty looks and overly praise him with compliments whenever he stopped a goal, distracting her boyfriend and making his face as red as his hair.

Hermione and Draco had asked if their method would have been considered cheating, but Ginny assured them that after the Weasley Halloween match of 91’ where it ended with Percy’s arm twisted like a pretzel and Fred somehow turned into a gnome and lost in their garden for 3 days, everything was fair game during the Weasley Quidditch Matches.

George had also done the same game plan to Angelina, but his girlfriend had eventually caught on what he was up to.

But unfortunately, Ginny had predicted for that to happen and helped George make offensive attacks instead towards Angelina and Bill (who Ginny was originally targeting).

Draco flew his broom higher, trying to get a good view of the whole field and also for one other personal reason.

As he hovered above and watched Ginny hitting the quaffle through the hoop, barely missing Ron’s head, he felt a burst hot air slowly hiss out of his bottom.

Pssssssstttttt….

Draco hoped his blush wasn’t showing as his indiscreetly tried to shift his broom, fanning the stench away.

In actuality, the blonde’s stomach started to act up a few minutes after their game began.

Draco had eaten a lot during dinner, almost the same amount as Ron, which was quite an impressive feat.

Not only was this the first time he has tasted the Weasley matriarch’s cooking (whom he quickly agreed made the best Sunday dinner he ever ate) but he had also wanted to make a good impression on his boyfriend’s ‘adopted’ family as well.

Luckily, Molly had pretty much taken to Draco almost immediately anyway since anyone who made Harry happy as he was now, was pretty much welcomed as part of her family. But seeing the blonde enjoy her food as much as he had was like the cherry on the top.

Draco bit his lip, as another fart let him, the embarrassing sound audible to his ears making him grimace.

He should have never had that second helping of pot roast, let alone a third helping. Or any extra helpings he had of whatever was on that table.

Bbbbrrrrttttt….

Draco huffed as he ignored his lower half and tried to focus back on the game.

To everyone’s surprise, Hermione actually made a decent keeper. When she wasn’t distracting Ron, she was able to guard her goalpost and prevent any quaffle from entering.

Who knew that underneath that bushy haired bookworm lied a decent keeper?

Pffffffttttt….

Draco bit his lip as more air expelled from his bumcheeks. Thankfully, they were out in the open and he was far away from the others so no one would know about the symphony of farts his arsehole was playing right now.

Draco suddenly shot up, a loud fart boomed out of him when he did so, when he finally spotted the snitch.

Ignoring his rumbling belly, he zoomed right towards the snitch just at the same time that Harry had also caught sight of it.

They flew side by side, a few feet apart, both exchanging grins before focusing their sole attention on capturing the snitch.

The blonde wasn’t even aware of all the farts that was shooting out of his bum at that moment (they were too quiet for Harry to hear anyway and the speed of which they flew blew away the smells his farts may have had and cause it to dissipate in the wind).

After a few more twists and turns, both boys finally reached out their hands as they made to caught the snitch.

The snitch entered his hand.

And it was over.

Ginny’s team won.

“I got it!” Draco yelled triumphantly, holding up the snitch proudly in his hand.

“HELL YESSSSSS!” Ginny’s scream echoed throughout the field, loud enough to scare the flock of passing birds away.

Draco could hear his boyfriend laughing but his thoughts were too focused on the fact that he finally won against Harry Potter.

He, Draco Malfoy, finally caught the snitch.

The boys flew their brooms towards the ground, to a patch of high grass that was a little away from everyone and hidden the pair a bit, but they were too tired from their earlier chase to fly anymore.

As soon as they landed, Harry grinned at Draco and gave the blonde a loud smack on the lips. “Congratulations, love.”

Draco’s eyes were sparkling as he held up the snitch to the other. “Finally beat you, Potter.”

Harry chuckled as he nodded his head. “Right you did. I’m proud of you, although I kinda feel bad for Ron- Ginny will never let him live this down.” He tilted his head to the right and they both watched Ginny and George, arms crossed as they danced in circles and crowed loudly to their victory.

The boyfriends snorted when they saw Hermione trying to console her defeated boyfriend- although she wasn’t doing a very good job as she herself was laughing too much.

Harry shook his head as he gave the other a soft smile and pulled his boyfriend to him for a big hug and another kiss.

Right then, Draco’s gut reminded him of his earlier gas problems and before he could do anything, Harry gave his middle a tight saueeze, making Draco let out a huge and very loud fart right then.

BRRRRTTTTTT!

They both froze at Draco’s fart.

Mortified, Draco tried to push the other away, unable to believe that he had just farted in front of his boyfriend.

He wanted to die.

And that fart just now wasn’t only one of the loudest and smelliest one yet, but it exited his arsehole with a burn- he had to swallow the whimper at the sting it left.

Not knowing what to do, Draco became confused when he suddenly heard a snort that was quickly followed by loud laughter as he was once again gathered up in his lover’s arms.

“I guess your bum wanted to congratulate you as well, love.” Harry giggled, holding the other close to him, wanting to make sure the blonde knew he didn’t mind at all so his boyfriend wouldn’t feel bad.

Draco blushed, but stopped trying to escape as he let himself be held. “Oh, shut up Harry. I ate too much earlier.” He grumbled, relieved that his boyfriend wasn’t grossed out by Draco breaking wind.

Harry guffawed. “I’ll say, never thought you could put away all that food- I was impressed. Made Molly very happy.” Harry paused before giving a loud sniff, making a face. “But maybe next time, you might want to skip the extra helping of pot roast, love. It really stinks right now.” The air around them had a foul stench which was strangely meaty.

“Shut up.” Draco’s face reddened even more. “Unfortunately, my flatulence doesn’t come off as roses, oh mighty savior.”

Harry snorted. “Flatulence. So posh, you prat. Just say fart like the rest of us.” He then grinned. “But who knew this lovely thing would let out such a manly ‘burp’.” He patted his boyfriends bum before giving it a teasing squeeze.

Although Draco’s face was still red, he was glad that his boyfriend wasn’t disgusted or turned off by his emission of gas.

As he was still riding off the high from his first quidditch win against his lover, when he felt his boyfriend give his buttocks another squeeze, the blonde mustered up all the courage he had and shoved his bum hard against the other’s hand and forced out a very noisy and quite wet sounding fart right onto his unsuspecting lover.

BRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP!

Draco burst out laughing as Harry gasped. “And that was my bum’s way of also saying I won and you lost, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort back but he ended up coughing as the powerful stench of rotten meat filled the air just then.

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Draco giggled as he quickly dodged his lover’s hands as the other made to grab him and he ran as fast as he could back to the others.