#'CHOSEN ONE' SHE WHISPERED AS SHE SLIPPED THEM OFF COMPLETELY

[troutsoup]

Gale's Revelation (cut scene from Early Access)

source

Gale: (upon propositioning the player and being rejected in favor of another) I.. I see. He's a lucky man. Loyalty is such a... Such a very rare commodity.

Gale: Apologies, I really did think you and I... But no. Perhaps it's for the better. In fact I'll let you be the judge of that. After all, I still have a story to tell.

Gale: It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is the story of a man who fell in love with a goddess.

Player: Very well, I'll play along. Regale me, Gale.

Gale: Thank you.

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an only age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, much like a musician or poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady of Mysteries. Mystra.

Player: What did Mystra's attention feel like?

Gale: Love.

Gale: Perhaps it was not quite love, but, you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. Mystra showed him the secrets beneath the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. 'Chosen One' she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

Player: The veils draped across the Weave?

Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave's surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while. As we enjoyed each other.

[ssalballoon]

Mystra showed him the secrets beneath the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. 'Chosen One' she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

poor gale :'(

- the dialogue is from ea gale's explanation about his folly

- i kinda like that she ended up looking like a mother-of-pearl inlay lacquerware!

- oh this was a subconscious choice, but Gale is sitting in seiza which is a posture for showing respect especially to elders. it's also known to be a painful position to sit in for extended periods of time, which is why it was sometimes used as a method of (morally dubious) punishment. however, experienced people can maintain this posture for much longer. food for thought :-)

- (edit: deleted this point bcs it didn't really make sense + detracted from the art a little;;)

[lady-ashfade]

soulmate au with percy and reader. i was thinking like reader is like a complete nobody at camp and the daughter of some not really known god. percy and reader meet by accident and they figure out they are soulmates. percy at first didn’t want anything to do with it because he had feelings for annabeth but comes around.

Percy Jackson x Fem!reader. (Soulmate au)

-£ Pictured a older version of book Percy, but imagine them staying a camp or coming late.

-£ words: 1.5 words

-£ warnings: Angst, rejection, jealousy, I love annabeth, percy being mean? Idk. Anyway kinda short. What can I say, I love a man with dark hair who has sass?🤷‍♀️

“Do you ever wonder who you’re soulmates is?” percy sat on the log near the cliff looking over the sunset. annabeth keeping her eyes on the forest below, smiling softly as the orange sun hit her skin.

“I’m not worried about it, they will come to me when the time is right.” she replied with a calm voice.

percy could help himself from looking down at her hand and slowly inching his hand near hers. the marking was just late. he knew that she was his soulmate. how could she not be after everything they went through? besides no one knew him like she did.

fate is a funny thing.

because the person who was chosen to be his, and his alone wasn’t the girl he sat next to. it was you. you barely had any contact with percy. never even spiking a word to each other and yet the world still twined you together.

looking back on it he wished he reacted in a nicer way then he did. anything other then what he did, even faint.

he was running a pile of arrows to the archery training ground when he ran into you. as soon as your eyes met the world was slow for just a second and colors shined brighter then they did. in that moment you both felt something that was more then the gods. something even the gods can’t touch.

“woah,” you whisper with your hands still held onto the arrows he was trying to give to you. his hands didn’t stop clinching onto the wood, he couldn’t believe it.

you blink at him for him to do something other then stand there and stare with a open mouth. sure this type of thing wasn’t normal but he didn’t even move a inch.

but you wished he had stayed quiet, “Look, I um..” he let go of the things you two shared and took a step back with hasted.

“I have to run.” you watched him run off like there was nothing important to keep him here.

At first you thought that he was just shy, in shock, and didn’t know what to say. but you soon figured out he wanted nothing to do with you. you followed him around and tried to talk to him at every chance you got but he would always slip from your fingers.

cornering him in the woods at night wasn’t the best idea but you had but there was not other choice. it didn’t feel good to have your soulmate avoid you.

“There is a mistake.” his voice echoed through the woods, “I feel nothing for you. I am sure you are amazing, but you are not my soulmate.”

he watched the tears pool into your eyes like the waves he controlled. taking a step back from the news from his lips that crushed your soul. “I am in love with another.”

Licking your lips you roll your eyes to try and stop the tears forming. “it’s annabeth isn’t it?” he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. the silence he gave when he opened his mouth but nothing came out told you everything you needed to know.

“I do hope you live a happy life,” you walked closer to him only inches away, “especially when she finds her soulmate.” you walked past him and down the dirt path back to your cabin where you broke down.

fate was twisted and cruel for giving you him.

day and night you thought about him. and day and night you got worse. everyone could see the toll of being rejected but no one new by who. not a soul knew about you and percy and you honestly liked it that way. no pity glances when they hung out together. 

soulmate depression was a serious thing and could lead one down to a never reversible illness. your eyes lost their light, no one ever saw you smile, looking as dead like as possible. every positive feeling in your body was drained out.

annabeth looked over at you at diner time as you stared at the plate in front of you, sitting at the edge of the bench. “It’s terrible,” she said and picked at her food with a fork. “I hope they come around.”

the trio stared at you in pity, one of them feeling guilt. “It’s a really bad case, I feel so bad.” Grover looked sad as he almost cried himself. love was supposed to be for real, that’s what soulmates were for! If he had one he would never let them get like that.

Percy found himself studying the girl. Her hair messy, her face grime and eyes blank and darker then the last time he looked in them. And Percy was the cause.

“Yeah,” the black hairy boy turned and poked at his food.

It has been week since then and a weight sunk in his stomach when he thought of you, which was almost every moment now. He thought about how you would smile before and how he wanted to see that again. He really thought he liked annabeth but each day that feeling went away.

Maybe he could think things over. But how could he apologize? Would you still want him?

But as Percy thought over the war in his head you moved on. Or as much as you could. there was a sickness in your body but you tried to fight it and spent time with your friends.

one boy took you in quickly. the two of you now glued at the hip and he was the only one who seemed to make you smile now.

“Dude,” Grover knocked his shoulder with his own, “What did he do to you?”

The son of Poseidon darted his eyes lowly at some boy. The way you smiled ever so sweetly like he has been wishing to see for weeks but this- This guy could cause it easily. And those small laughed he could hear so faintly in his ears.

“Nothing.” Percy stated while still glaring at the guy heavily.

the satyr nodded but lingered his eyes on his friend for a few seconds. clearly not believing him one bit.

“I have to tell you something,” he pulled his eyes away from you and to his friend. Guilt covering his face. “You know how y/n got reflected by her soulmate?” his voice shaky.

“Of course, it was hard to watch.” He answered. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots when Percy lifted his brows as a sign. Grover gasped loudly.

“You did- Oh my god’s. How could you?” His mouth was then covered by Percy as he shh’d him.

Percy took a big breath as he held his hand over his mouth, “I’m not proud of it. It was just, I didn’t feel like we could be. I thought me and annabeth were soulmates until they came along,” he turned his eyes back to your direction to find you laughing slightly with your friends.

“I was terribly wrong.”

As much as Grover was mad at his friend he could see the guilt and regret on his face. He helped him come up with a plan, and gave him a very long lecture about love. Annabeth found out, and cursed him out. Saying that the marks don’t lie and was overly upset he could do that for her.

it took a week of long work for him to build up the courage to finally talk to you.

lucky he knew exactly where you would be. in the same stop he saw you for the first time as his soulmate. In the training grounds. You had been walking back to your cabin looking as beautiful as always even with your gloomy change.

you had a basket in your hand. you hummed quietly and kept your eyes on the dirt path underneath your feet. you were too out of it to hear him walking from behind you. “Y/n.” He called your name.

turning around startled you are met with him smiling at you. the boy who broke your heart standing there with a warm smile on his face as if he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Percy.” You whisper and step back. “I um…Do you need something?” you were shaking almost.

He got closer slowly as he got more awkward by the second, “can we talk?” you were hesitant to expect his offer but you nodded.

“I want to apologize for rejecting you. I felt horrible watching you- Well, get like this.” He kept getting closer and you didn’t know if you should run away or scream at him.

“I was wrong. You are the girl for me.” He saw the tears flood in the corner of your eyes and your lips tremble

“you think that’s enough?” you didn’t yell but he could sense the harsh tone in your voice. And you have that right.

“No, not really.” his frowns. Knowing he needed to do more.

“But I’m willing to work as hard as I need to. If you will have me?”

His green eyes filled with sorrow. the feeling to leave him here, with nothing like he did to you. But you couldn’t. You felt better in his presence as he looked at you.

“I’ll allow it, but we take this slow.” All he could do was smile again and nod his head in understanding.

even if you didn’t trust him. he healed your heart in the matter of seconds.

[galedekarios]

gale, elminster & mystra: new infos from the epilogue and how they tie in with what we know from the base game

so i was mulling over bits and pieces of new information we got from the epilogue, connecting it to the stuff we already knew:

1. gale's story of how mystra came into his life in the full release

gale jumping from from "i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it" to "such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself" to then the teacher, muse and lover dynamic.

and from early access:

Player: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Player: He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. Player: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

2. elminster's new letter from the epilogue

we knew before that elminster must have come into his life early-ish as well from this convo:

"While most know Elminster the legend, few know him as you have. He plucked you from obscurity. Offered you his guidance. His faith."

we also know that gale got to attend blackstaff academy.

&

now, with the new letters from the epilogue, we know that elminster met him at eight years old:

elminster coming into his when gale was just "eight summers old", gale's talents being as they were from "an early age", mystra involving herself in his life.

perhaps those two events happening are connected: the chosen of mystra. plucking him from obscurity. taking him under his wing.

perhaps on the guidance of someone? someone very clever? someone who'd later use said mentor to also deliver a message that needed to be conveyed with the utmost severity of her bidding?

someone who'd involve herself in gale's life, too? someone who needs his ambitions to be laid to rest because of a future she glimpsed at?

3. raphael's new epilogue lines if gale fails his ascension:

Raphael: I owe you a debt of gratitude. You were the spark of ambition that rekindled Gale's ambitions, after Mystra had so cleverly put them to rest.

i'm thinking thoughts not only about "cleverly", implying some sort of scheming here or manipulation.

a goddess involving her chosen, to oversee a child, so full of promise and ambition -

(a relationship forming between elminster and gale, which even by the point we see them interact in the game, speaks of the care and love they hold for each other) -

before she too involves herself: becomes his mentor, teacher, and he becomes her chosen.

making gale her chosen as a form of control, so he perhaps would not oppose her, like, for instance, even elminster is hardly capable of.

but not only did she make him her chosen, in the same breath, she made him her lover.

we know she very much is capable of using her chosen for her needs.

raphael is also very directly saying that gale's "ambition" reawakened after meeting the protag. so we are talking about mystra putting them to rest before gale met the protag, so the comment couldn't possibly be about his character arc during the game.

i already touched on this a bit earlier but:

4. we also know that mystra has foresight, being able to predict the future to some sort of degree:

History of the Chosen of Mystra: The reason why Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, invested a portion of her divine might into mortals is not known. One of the popular theories, and one that is gaining more support in light of the other goddess' during that period, is that Mystra foresaw the Time of Troubles (and her own passing at the hands of Helm) and chose to give some of her powers to mortals in order to ensure that her successor (the female mage, Midnight, as it turned out) would have a number of nearly immortal allies in the struggle against the schemes of the gods (the now dead Bane, Myrkul and Bhaal) who precipitated the Time of Troubles by stealing the Tablets of Fate.

(again, i want to reiterate that larian doesn't keep close to the dnd timeline at times, and has quite a few lore mistakes and even breaks. i know mystra was 'dead' around the time gale would have been that young. take it up with larian, please. i'm only trying to extrapolate from the things we are told in the game and the narrative in it.)

[sunsetkerr]

THE SHOWER | s.kerr

summary: caitlin, alannah and mackenzie have taken it upon themselves to plan yours and sam's baby shower.. what could go wrong?! [1.9k words]

pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr (sweet nora universe)

notes: trying to cheer myself up after sam doing her acl, I hope it cheers you all up too. I missed nora lots and lots.

august 2019, 3 months pregnant

IF THERE WERE THREE PEOPLE THAT you would never trust to plan literally anything, it would be Alanna, Mackenzie and Caitlin. The three of them together are like a taking time bomb that just cannot wait to go off. They are loud, messy, chaotic and almost always in disarray.

So when Sam came to you in the third month of your pregnancy and say that the three of them wanted to be the ones to plan your baby shower, you could've fainted then and there.

Sure, Sam had known the three of them for a long time. They were all really close friends of both you and Sam. Sam had been playing with Caitlin since she was 15, she was in your wedding for god's sake- it wasn't a far fetched idea to have them want to do something so big for you both. But with the three of them together, you weren't really sure how successful your baby shower would be.

You and Sam were completely shut out of the planning side of things. They told you nothing, and you mean literally nothing. Alanna had made the invites before even asking (or telling) Sam if they could plan the shower, claiming that she had an untapped passion for graphic design or something like that. All the information on there was all you got.

The shower was going to be held at your home in Perth during Matildas camp for the World Cup. That way all of Sam's teammates could be there and so could your families. A few of Sam's teammates from Chicago would fly out, Mackenzie ensuring their arrivals. By the time the shower came around you had been shunned away to Sam's parents house to get ready for your day.

Alanna had taken the liberty of finding you a dress, knowing exactly the kind of clothes that you would feel comfortable but confident in at 3 months pregnant. You slipped on your outfit and were subtly impressed with what Alanna had chosen for you.

"Wow, hello you" You couldn't help yourself but to let a smile fall upon your lips as Sam wolf-whistled at you as she came into her old bedroom. You were stood in front of the mirror, fixing up your hair before you left for the baby shower. Sam was dressed in a beige button up shirt with a pattern on it paired with some white linen shorts that you loved her in. She looked so gorgeous.

"Do you like it?" You asked, giving her a little spin.

"You look incredibly beautiful" She nodded softly as she grabbed hold of your hips and pulled you in closer. She placed a quick kiss on your lips before pulling away and hovering over them again. "Like stunning" She whispered, before kissing you again.

"I love you" You leant your forehead against hers, not wanting this moment to pass from you both.

"I love you more" She smiled.

"Are you two ready to head off?" Rox called up the stairs. You were driving in with Rox and Maddie, who were both waiting for you two downstairs.

"Yep! Give us like five minutes" Sam called back. You chuckled and leant into her embrace, leaning against her as she held you tight.

"Are you excited?" Sam said quietly, trying her best to saviour your time together before you went into a sea of people for the late morning.

"I'm more so nervous to see what they've done to our house" You closed your eyes and imagined the chaos that could only be caused by Cait, Alanna and Mackenzie.

"It's just a brunch babe" Sam kissed your forehead, already knowing what you were thinking. "Worst thing could be that they haven't put coasters out on the table" She admitted.

"It's really nice timber, Sam" You defended yourself and your over-protectiveness of your breakfast bar. Sam had it custom made for you when you said that you had always wanted one. It really was your first child in a way.

"Don't worry, I already warned Cait about the timber" Sam droned, rolling her eyes at you. "She's said she'll protect it with her life".

"She better" You raised your eyebrows.

"I doubt she would mess with Mrs Kerr" Sam smacked your bum lightly before leading you out from her childhood room and into the car.

"Oh I love it when you call me that"

You couldn't stop the butterflies in your belly from fluttering around, although you weren't sure if you baby was just moving around more than usual. The house looked amazing when you pulled up at the front. The garden had been decked out in balloons, a sign next to the front door that said 'Y/N & SAM'S BABY SHOWER' in a beautiful handwritten font.

You held your hands over your mouth in shock as you got out of the car with Sam's help. "Oh my god it looks so good," You could've sworn that there were tears welling up in your eyes.

Before you could even take it in fully, Alanna, Mackenzie and Caitlin opened the front door and cheered for your arrival.

"It looks so good!" You exclaimed, bringing all of them in for a bone-crushing hug. You were beyond impressed and far past grateful.

"We clean up nice" Macca chuckled, hugging you tightly.

"Do you wanna like have some faith in us?" Alanna laughed, rolling her eyes at you.

"I was nervous" You admitted, shrugging awkwardly.

"She was so nervous" Sam reiterated.

"Trust the process, Y/N" Caitlin said before leading both you and Sam inside.

The house looked amazing. There were fresh flowers throughout the entry way with more decorations strung up. You spied a few games set up on various tables before entering the back garden. You had to have had over thirty girls waiting for you and Sam in the back garden. Your close friends were there, as well as lots of Sam's teammates, members of your family sprinkled throughout.

You squealed as you spied some of your older friends who you hadn't had the chance to see in a while. Sam smiled as she watched you catch up with your mates, looking radiant.

"It looks just amazing guys," Sam brought the three of her friends in for a hug. "Thank you so so much" She smiled.

"We need to start charging for events I reckon" Macca chuckled.

"Oh yeah, definitely" Cait nodded in agreeance.

"So what do you need from me?" Sam asked, ready to go into mum-mode and help out her girls for the morning.

"Nothing" Cait shrugged. "Can you relax skip? It's your baby shower. Go sit with your wife and chill. Brunch will be out soon"

"How did you manage to order so much food for so early" Sam asked, the curiosity eating inside at her.

"We're making it" Caitlin said.

"Wait, what?"

You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous that Caitlin might burn down your kitchen. There seemed to be lots of raised voices coming from inside your home, majority coming from Lani telling the girls that they had been cooking the bacon for too long. A few of Sam's teammates offered their help. Emily headed in and started to bring out what was hot (and not burnt) with Steph running inside to save the day- her mimosa in hand.

Everyone was determined to not let you inside and look at the carnage you were convinced was happening in your kitchen. Instead, Sam just held your hand and distracted you by talking with your friends and family.

Soon enough, brunch was served and you were pleasantly surprised. Macca ended up coming out late to eat, still with an apron on, claiming she was just tidying up a little. You knew there was probably more than a little bit of tidying to do, and you were okay with that.

Since being pregnant, you found yourself needing more control over situations, but right now in this moment you were grateful that you and Sam had such beautiful friends who were willing to, not only put on such events for you both, but to make sure you were relaxed and enjoying yourself as they did.

After brunch the games began. Caitlin had the idea of a blindfolded nappy change race. You never thought you would see Hayley Raso facing off against Lydia Williams in who could change a baby doll's nappy the fastest. Lydia smoked her for the record.

Alanna had hidden baby photos of you and Sam around the garden for guests to find. To say you were shocked to have a picture of two-year-old sam sitting in your esky was an understatement.

Mackenzie wanted everyone to decorate a one-suit for your bub. You had Clare Polkinghorne claiming hers was the best as she drew a little tillies kit with her number on the back on hers. Sam tried her best to draw little hearts all around hers, but ended up with some red splotches more so than hearts- you loved it.

The shower went on for a while, way longer than you would have anticipated. It was an absolute hit and you were so grateful to have had to thrown for you.

As the night was winding down you found Cait, Macca and Lani cleaning up the kitchen together so you and Sam wouldn't have to.

"Hey," You said as the girls all turned around to face you. "Thank you so much for today. You have no idea how much it means to me that you guys did all of this"

"Stop it!" Macca exclaimed, reaching out to put a hand on your growing bump. "This is our niece of nephew we're talking about! Of course we wanted to do this" She gave you an extra squeeze before grabbing her dishes again to wash.

"I'm just so so happy" You looked at them all.

"So you had a good time?" Alanna asked, bringing you in for another hug.

"Such a good time" You smiled as you leant against her shoulder. You were so grateful.

"Good we're glad," She smiled at you once you pulled away, "Now get out of the kitchen so you don't combust watching Mackenzie attempt to wash dishes" She nodded over at Mackenzie who was trying her best to scrap at a pan that had definitely seen better days.

You offered them all another thank you before heading out into the garden again. You could here Mackenzie start to bicker with Alanna as you left.

"I'm actually really good at washing dishes" She defended herself.

"Not sure if that's really a brag there Macca" Lani shot back.

It became late in the afternoon before everyone had really started to head off. You and Sam were left sat in the back garden together, watching Macca, Caitlin and Lani as they picked up the last few things around the house.

"They're so good to us" You smiled, leaning your head against Sam's shoulder.

"They're good chicks" Sam nodded, never having felt so content that she did in that moment.

"Can't believe in six months we'll have a baby" You marvelled.

"Can't believe in six months our baby is going to have more than three aunties" She scoffed.

"That's on you there skip" You raised your eyebrows at her as a smirk grew on her lips.

"What can I say?" She shrugged, "I've got good teammates".

"The best teammates"

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.4]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Beginning: Prologue

Previous: Chapter Three

➨ Chapter Four

Next: Coming Soon...

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: My roommates and I totally got knocked tf out with the bad luck stick. This chapter already went through the first rounds of edits, and I was going to do a final round... but that was just not gonna happen today. So please excuse any typos or whatnot <3

♡

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FOUR

Toga made an unpleasant face when you dropped your large wad of rain-soaked clothing into her open arms. She was the lucky duck that was chosen to escort you on your trip back to the hotel. It turns out she was typically the one who volunteered to run errands and shop for the boys thanks to her quirk being perfect for going out undetected.

For your brief outing, she took on the form of the woman you’d seen outside the convenience store with Shigaraki the night prior. Her pretty face was contorted in distaste as it was clear she wanted nothing more than to drop the soggy pile on the marble tiled floor. Unfortunately for her, you had to check out of the hotel first, and you needed both hands free in order to do that.

You thanked the receptionist with a friendly smile and dipped your head politely before turning to leave. Toga was quick to shove your hero suit into your belly, forcing you to take it back from her. She had enough strength behind it to make you stumble back a step or two.

“Agh! That was so not cool,” she complained as she rubbed her wet forearms off on her sweater.

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t even a full minute. You’re fine.”

“You could have at least warned me! That felt so gross.”

You snickered at her, receiving a childish pout in return. But then, your smile dropped, and Toga’s body stiffened as the two of you spotted a pair of police officers passing through the entrance of the hotel.

You pushed against Toga, directing her to the outskirts of the foyer, which was decorated with a generous number of potted plants that would give you cover. It was hard to feel completely hidden when your arms were full of not only your dripping clothing but also several bags from the light shopping you had done before coming here. Making a silent escape would be a feat.

Maybe you were overreacting. The officers would never be able to recognize Toga with her current disguise, and you were much older than your villainous counterpart. Surely, you looked different enough to slip by without catching anybody’s eye…

But that was probably a reach.

“They don’t know what you look like,” Toga whispered to you, tugging on your sleeve to get you walking towards the exit. She always had a knack for knowing exactly what was going through your head. It was somewhat comforting that this version of her was the same way. Then again, it could very well be that you were just easy to read.

You gave her a questioning look. You remembered seeing pictures of yourself in villain garb during your little research project this morning. They had to at least have an idea of what you looked like. Then again, you recalled that in each of them you had been wearing a mask.

You glanced back over at the cops who were walking up to the receptionist, and you allowed Toga to pull you away. You were almost out the door when you overheard a piece of their conversation.

“—card statements alerted us that she booked the night here. She’s been missing for over a week now.”

“Oh…What did you say her name was again?”

You knew you should just keep walking—you were almost out of view—but the sound of your name caused you to look back out of habit. Just then, the receptionist’s wide eyes locked onto yours. She looked confused, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for her words.

“Go,” you hissed, pushing Toga out the door and causing her to trip over her own feet. Your firm hold on her shirt kept her from falling as you hauled her out of the building and down the sidewalk. She whined and tried to wiggle out of your hold.

The hotel was supposed to be your last stop. You decided then that you would have to tack on a few extra to be sure you wouldn’t be tailed. The last thing you wanted was to lead the police straight to your villainous friends’ hideout. The two of you filed into the nearby station, and just as you reached the platform, one of the trains pulled up. You wasted no time in hopping on.

You never imagined you’d be the one running from authorities.

And now that you were, you hated it.

The way your head spun and your heart raced. How your hands were shaking so badly you were struggling to hold onto your bags. The anxiety that rushed through your veins, overwhelming and taking over your mind with dread over what was to come.

You knew you weren’t a villain, and realistically, you shouldn’t actually be in any trouble. They were looking for you because, in this world, you had a missing person’s case. If they caught you, the worst-case scenario would be an interrogation into why you disappeared. You wouldn’t be arrested for any real crime.

Still, you couldn’t help but panic. Maybe it was because you were with someone who was wanted as a villain. Even then, she was unrecognizable in her disguise. Most likely, you were so worried because never before had you been the one the authorities were after. You never imagined you’d find yourself in this type of situation—and you certainly didn’t know how to get yourself out of it.

In the end, you weren’t really the person they were looking for—rather, you were just a doppelganger of sorts—and you had no explanation for them if they did bring you in for questioning. You knew close to nothing about your past in this world. There was no way her life had been identical to yours considering the vastly different outcomes.

She had money, but how did she get it? A proper job or crime?

Who were her closest friends?

Where did she live?

Your best bet if you were ever caught was to fake amnesia, you reckoned.

Your heart rate only slowed down after seven or so stops. Toga was patient with you, but you could tell she was getting antsy and eager to get off the train. It was maybe the tenth stop when you finally stood up to leave.

The train let you off at a street full of shops and bustling people, very similar to the one you’d gone to earlier in the day. The air was full of chatter loud enough to be heard over a cacophony of music resulting from various playlists intermingling. Had you been in a mall, the music may have been a bit more in sync, but this was what happened when multiple stores wanted to create an ambiance for their customers.

Getting to the end of each block proved to be quite the chore as Toga’s attention was caught by every other window display. She whined about how she never got to buy nice things for herself anymore because she had no money. Needless to say, your soft heart would give in, and you’d walk away with her beaming and admiring her new apparel.

Your attention was caught at one point when you passed a shop selling a variety of used gaming consoles. Some of the posters taped to the front entrance were advertisements for games Tenko and Iguchi had introduced to you. Toga didn’t bat an eye, continuing on her way, but you paused to wonder, if you hadn’t died in this world, would you make similar memories with Shigaraki and Spinner?

You missed the days when the three of you would gather at one of your homes. Beanbag chairs and a plethora of pillows would be gathered in front of a TV, surrounded by a mountain of snacks to last you days. Tenko never failed to provide enough energy drinks to kill a horse. He wanted to ensure that you—in a food coma bliss—wouldn’t pass out before it even hit midnight.

The sun would be peeking over the horizon, and your bloodstream would still be saturated with caffeine, resulting in you badgering them mercilessly to prevent them from nodding off. You’d be buzzing in your seat as the three of you played on, framed by two zombies who wanted nothing more than to knock you unconscious. Once he had enough, Tenko would pull the plug and drag your whining ass to the makeshift beds Iguchi had set up earlier in the night. You’d only settle down after several minutes of Tenko’s arm latching you to the floor.

You’d like to think that your counterpart shared experiences akin to your own. Although, you wouldn’t be terribly surprised if being wanted criminals took precedence over finding the time and money to play games through the night.

You turned away from the shop to follow Toga back to the hideout.

Twice was quick to jump on you both as soon as you walked through the door. He wanted nothing more than to dig through the bags of new goodies you brought with you. Compress wasn’t so invasive, but he still hovered to catch a glimpse at whatever was pulled out. When Twice reached the plastic bag you used to carry your soaked garments, he made an alarmed noise and shoved it off on Compress who was also fairly displeased.

“What on Earth is this?” he said, aghast.

“It’s my hero suit… It was raining in my universe before I was sent here, so it got totally soaked through,” you explained, taking the clothing back from him.

“Oh, I was wondering why you looked so miserable last night!” Toga chimed. You pursed your lips.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go get changed into something a bit more palatable,” you said, digging through a large paper bag full of new clothes.

“You weren’t kidding about that hero crap?” you heard Shigaraki grumble.

You glanced over at him as he lounged across one of the battered sofas, gnawing on a candy bar. You couldn’t necessarily blame his distaste for heroes being that he was on the receiving end of their dutiful efforts. It was more understandable given you knew just who they really were—without this universe’s societal views blurring your beliefs into following them instead.

“Of course not,” you said as you pulled out a cozy pair of pants along with a soft sweatshirt.

“So, your morals align with theirs then,” he said, and you didn’t miss the mildly sinister undertone in his voice. You looked back over to see his eyes boring into you. He was waiting for your response, his body visibly tense. It was clear that the wrong answer would trigger an exchange with an unappealing outcome, and that seemed to be what he anticipated, though his deep frown suggested he preferred that not be the case.

“No…” you said softly, watching him carefully. You felt like Shigaraki wouldn’t think twice about going after you while your back was turned. You knew Tenko would never do that, but you also knew he was passionate about his world views, intense and driven to defend them. With him already being on the opposing side of the law, you weren’t sure where Shigaraki drew the line when it came to fighting for what he believed in. You’d like to think he was as sensible as you remembered.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t need to find out today. “No, the heroes here were my enemies where I come from.”

He scrutinized you, gauging whether to believe you or not, but after a moment, his narrowed eyes and tensed muscles relaxed. “Mm,” he grunted in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to his food, pretending to investigate whatever was written on the wrapper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back down at the outfit you picked out. You hadn’t noticed your heart rate was elevated until that moment, feeling it slow down.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious as to what we’re like as heroes,” Compress pondered, a hand tucked under his chin.

“Me, too!” Toga said and attached herself to your back, putting most of her weight onto you. “Are we, like, so awesome?”

You glanced over your shoulder at her and chuckled. “Oh, definitely, but I’m sure you’re just as awesome here.”

She giggled before pestering you to share more.

So, you did.

“Our agency’s focus was mostly on rescue. We were usually the first to respond to natural disasters or the destructive aftermath of villain activity. Sometimes we’d be given assignments to gather intel to help out other agencies,” you explained.

“I’ve got a hard time believing Dabi’s good at rescue. He should just scorch them!” Twice butted in.

“I said mostly,” you laughed. “Dabi… kind of had his own role.” Speaking of, both he and Spinner were missing from the common area. “Is he around right now?”

“No,” Shigaraki clipped with a mouthful of food, “He’s out recruiting for us.”

“What about Spinner?”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes shot over to look at you, causing a slight shiver down your spine. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but in this universe, his energy had a menacing edge to it.

“He’s sleeping.” Shigaraki swallowed his last bite and dropped the wrapper beside him. “Why were you using past tense?”

“Was I?” It hadn’t even crossed your mind. Apparently, Compress noticed it, as well, nodding along as if he would have asked about it if no one else had. Toga and Twice seemed confused, looking between you and Shigaraki.

You drew back slightly. Telling all of them about the tragedy that had struck your group felt wrong… You understood that things were different here, but you also didn’t want to put meaningless fear into their heads. They wouldn’t be playing the same roles as they did in your past, so it wouldn’t make any sense for them to face the same fate.

“I guess…I guess it’s because I’m technically from the future?” You shrugged with a shamefully false smile. Lying about this didn’t feel all that great either. What if—because of weird universal parallel laws or whatever—they will meet the same ends as they did in your world? If telling them could change that, then that’s what you would want to do.

You would do anything to change what had happened to your friends.

Spinner’s words from earlier in the day rang through your head. There was still a chance that manipulating their timeline could create a paradox, the aftermath of which could be devastating—according to the limited SciFi media you’ve consumed on that subject matter.

You wanted to rip your hair out. You hated being in this position, and you were eager to get out of it. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long for you to hunt down Dai Uchuu and convince him to send you home.

There was a sharp tug at your heart.

It occurred to you that home wouldn’t have all the people you cared so much about. That should have been obvious, but it was easier to forget than you’d think. Still, that’s where your life was, and you had to live with the outcome of your own battles.

You pushed past that uncomfortable feeling with a little help from Toga and Twice badgering you for more details on their lives as heroes.

You continued to tell them about Toga’s success and promotion, and how Twice was invaluable for his productivity and utility on the field, amplifying everyone else’s capabilities tenfold. Compress and Tenko were excellent at clearing debris, freeing anyone trapped or injured. There were a few people you brought up who the others were unfamiliar with, such as Minji, Sakiko, and other old classmates of yours.

You wondered if they had yet to meet.

“That sounds like so much fun,” Toga said. She was plopped down in front of you, hugging her knees to her chest as she listened to you share stories about where you came from. She stared at the ground with a blank expression. “I wonder how we ended up so different.”

“Me too,” you muttered

“I’m glad we’re not heroes,” Shigaraki spouted, kicking his legs off the couch so he could sit up. His eyes settled on you.

“What?” you asked, a bit jarred by his comment. “Why? I can’t imagine living in hiding is all that fun.”

“Because we don’t have to conform to the shallow ideals of society. Heroes like to act like they keep the peace when, in reality, they turn a blind eye to those they deem beneath them. I’m not interested in playing pretend.”

You blinked.

Some heroes could be like that sometimes, but they were the vast minority. Most of the people you knew were genuine and loved being given the opportunity to help others. You were sure Tenko felt the same as you, but Shigaraki’s opinions were the stark opposite.

You assumed that could be attributed to the fact the heroes here were just as corrupt as the villains you knew them to be. Shigaraki was their villain, and they were his enemies. If you were in his shoes, you probably wouldn’t want to join the opposing team either.

The energy in the room had changed, and you all silently agreed to drop the topic. Toga stepped into the spotlight to start showing off everything you’d bought her, which led to Twice begging you to buy stuff for him, as well. Compress tried to be subtle about it, but it was clear he wanted in on the gift-giving by the way he began listing items he lost or wished he could buy.

At some point, Dabi had returned, and Spinner had risen. Dabi made a b-line for the scarce-looking bedroom, but Spinner was eager to join in the conversation. He was a little less self-centered about the things he thought you should buy, more so concerned with what the group needed as a whole.

Shigaraki was silent from his spot on the couch, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, but his eyes were locked onto you all the while. There were a few moments where you’d look over but quickly look away when you saw he was still staring. It felt like he was in deliberation with himself regarding your presence, like he had yet to decide whether he’d let you stay or not.

You weren’t kept in suspense for too long.

Spinner was in the middle of arguing with Twice about needs versus wants when Shigaraki butted in to announce you’d be staying with Toga overnight. Then he left, you assumed to retreat to his own bedroom. Compress and Twice turned in not long after, but Spinner hung around until Toga dragged you away to give you a tour of her room.

Hers was the one that looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Her clothing was overflowing out of her wardrobe and across the majority of the carpeted floor. You could barely see her bed underneath the mountain of plushies she’d accumulated, and you had to watch your step to be sure you didn't crush any of the scattered makeup.

You were soon thankful her messiness made you more attentive of where you were walking, because you noticed the gleam of a knife peeking out from beneath her clothing. You crouched down and carefully picked it up. “Um… Toga? Why do you have this in your room?”

She gasped as her eyes widened and a gleeful smile stretched across her face. She pranced over to you. “You found it! I’ve been looking everywhere for that!” She plugged it from your hand and held it to her chest, giggling and skipping away to find a new home for it.

Okay…

You elected to ignore her absurd behavior in favor of helping her clear a spot on the ground for you to sleep. She began handing blankets and pillows off for you to arrange however you preferred.

You dodged an oversized teddy bear, covering your head for safekeeping. You lowered one of the fluffy pillows being lent to you to send a playful glare at Toga as she rifled through her stuffed animals. She began pelting you with anything she thought would be a good addition to your makeshift bed.

“This is gonna be so fun!” Toga sang as she tossed another plushie in your direction. You caught it this time. She turned around to start helping you gather everything into a somewhat bed-shaped pile. “Tomura and I just bought a bunch of snacks and stuff, too—Oh, that’s when we found you!”

“Right. You guys left some stuff behind, by the way,” you hummed with a soft smile. You tucked a blanket around your mound of a mattress to help it keep its form. “I tried to give it back, but you guys were long gone, so I returned it to the clerk.”

“Hm, I would have kept it if I were you,” she said, side-eying you. “I know where Jin’s food stash is. I’m sure he wouldn’t care if we took some.”

“He wouldn’t care if you asked? Or wouldn’t care because he wouldn’t notice?” you catch, giving her a suspicious look. She grinned wide, showing off her sharp canines.

“Jin’s a sweety. He’ll understand,” she said, waving her hand as if she was shooing away the conversation topic.

You finished working on your sleeping arrangements, and Toga dug around in her closet for anything she could use to give you a makeover. You were offended at first by the way she chose to phrase it, but you could recall all the times you’d spent with your Toga. The horrors she put your hair and skin through had long since been buried away—way more than six feet under.

Your body was stiff as she began working with your hair.

“If only Magne were here, too. The three of us were planning a girls’ night before—” Toga paused, looking off to the side as she emitted a strained hum. “She said it would be good for team building.”

You looked down at your crossed legs.

Losing Magne was hard. No one could have anticipated such an outcome. The planning that had gone into that assignment felt endlessly meticulous not only for guaranteed success but also to avoid serious casualties. Everyone believed all bases had been covered.

But reality never goes exactly as planned.

There was no plan to account for the unexpected adversaries. No plan when so many of your allies’ lives were at risk. There was no plan to prevent Magne from jumping ahead to act as a buffer. She made her own plan, and she went through with it, and she succeeded. She saved all those lives at the cost of her own.

You weren’t sure how she passed away in this timeline, and you didn’t feel it would be appropriate to ask, but you had no doubt it was for something just as noble. This world may have deemed her a villain, but you knew her as a hero. You knew her ideology and goals, and it was a shame she—like all the others—wasn’t recognized for it.

You wanted to know how the morals of this society got flipped around. How were the real villains able to pull it off?

With copious manipulation tactics, you were sure.

“Were we ever able to hang out?”

“Huh?” You blinked back to attention. To be fair, you both had gone silent for a minute, allowing your mind to wander. “Oh. The three of us?”

“Mm,” she affirmed.

“Yeah…” You began picking at your nails. “Yeah, we got to hang out a decent amount.”

Her hands, which were busy at work with your hair, slowed down. “What kind of stuff did we do?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You wouldn’t have to worry about causing any paradoxes, since your stories were in both of your pasts at this point. Still, it wasn’t good to dwell too much on the past, or on what could have been.

That probably made you a hypocrite, but you weren’t too keen on taking your own advice on such matters.

“Magne would take us shopping sometimes,” you said softly. “Our work studies didn’t pay all that well, and she felt bad, so she’d want to buy us all sorts of things while we were out.”

“Like a big sister,” Toga suggested, her hands returning to her normal pace.

“Or a cool aunt or something.” You smiled and turned slightly to look over your shoulder at her. Her eyes were focused on her hands, but she was smiling, too.

♡ ♡ ♡

taglist: @boogiemansbitch @multisstuff @local-s1mp

[wolven91]

Sleepy Human

Tess had just finished a never before seen, fifty-hour shift.

It wasn't meant to have been a fifty-hour shift, but after a previously unrecorded hunk of rock flew past and the resulting micro-meteor shower peppered the station, it was all hands-on deck. As the only human and 'small specie' aboard, Tess had chosen to be willing to go that extra mile, to prove what humans can do. One of the benefits to being one of the smaller races, meant humans could crawl or squeeze themselves into spaces where a tiny hole might be slowly venting the atmosphere into the void that the larger races simply couldn't get to without uninstalling an entire room's worth of equipment.

It had been four years since what was now known as the Sol-3 Incident, only humans called it Earth and even then, only when talking to close friends or family.

But the danger was past. The holes were plugged, and it was done. The station was reading 'All Clear' and no areas were showing any further signs of lost integrity anymore.

Tess was leaning over the back of a chair when she heard the good news from Central Control over the speakers. The human gave an exhausted choking laugh at the miracle that was getting the 'job' done. A great weight was added to her eyelids.

The other engineers likewise were glad it was complete and made no secret of their praise for the woman each praising her in turn. They and their colleagues had no reason to run themselves ragged as she did; they had entire teams ready to 'tap them out' when their shift was done so the 'on' team could remain at top form. It was only Tess who had been awake for so long thanks to her size.

An ursidain came over, the lead Engineer; she was all smiles to let Tess know she was good to go. But upon clapping a hubcap sized paw against her back, the woman collapsed down the back of the chair. Her knees had buckled as the dark circles beneath her eyes told her tale without a single word.

"Aww, damn. Come on kid, let's get you to bed." The lead engineer said as the human stood back up.

Or tried to.

She got herself onto one knee before pushing up on herself, but one her legs had just decided that she was no longer allowed to use it properly.

"Just.. hah.. Just leave me here boss. Just let me have five minutes and I'll head home." Tess panted out, exhausted as she was, flopping back onto her ass against the metal grating of engineering.

"And let you messy up my engineering bay? Oh no, you're getting home and getting sleep. Come here!" She began her sentence with a serious, admonishing tone before switching to a more jovial one. She reached down, slipped a clawed paw under one of her arm pits, then the other, before hauling the human bodily up onto herself.

Tess, whilst the smallest engineer, was not a small woman. Her arms were thick, her chest broad and muscled, all thanks to her years working hard within the engineering sector. This was all unnoticed by the giant space-bear. The lead engineer's strength far greater than what was needed to hoist the human with such ease she didn't even grunt. Humans barely came up to an ursidain's hip, so the effort was minimal on the larger alien's part.

Her arms flopped over the alien's shoulders as the human's head landed against the fur and soft meat of her shoulder as limp was a puppet with its strings cut..

"I don't.. I'm not a babe that needs to. needs to." The woman protested her position, but was lost to sleep moments later.

The giant ursidain made steps towards the exit while holding one paw over the smaller middle-aged human to hold her in place as she moved. She knew where she lived and could drop her off with ease.

As she reached the engineering exit however, she was stopped.

"Boss! They're saying that the scrubbers are working overtime! You're the only one with clearance to escort the other engineers!"

She felt a joint in her jaw 'pop' as she gritted her teeth. This couldn't wait.

"Right! Lets go now, it can't wait." She whispered carefully at her subordinate, who at first had a confused look before glancing down at the human that had passed out completely.

What followed was eight hours of non-stop metaphorical firefighting that the lead engineer had to navigate while holding the 'hero' human to her chest. On several occasions she had to transfer 'ownership' of the woman to other crew members while she handled business, but would immediately demand the human back once she was free to take her once more.

On the rare occasions she would stir, the lead engineer caught herself rubbing her back, gently rocking her up and down while 'shushing' her.

She was sure the human wouldn't appreciate it if she was conscious, but it worked and she remained blissfully unaware.

And if it works then it's good enough.

It was only towards the end of her shift that she finally found time to actually take Tess back to her home. On overriding her door lock and an attempt to get her into bed, not only did the woman refuse to rouse at first, her arms had locked around the ursidain's neck.

Too tired to really care, she climbed onto the small human bed, breaking it completely with her literal ton weight, and laid down with her still holding herself against the alien's fur. She ran a paw over her back and began to drift away herself with little issue as her own long day took its own toll on her.

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (XV)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

I apologize about the tag list, it’s just so hard for me to keep up with. I also apologize for making you wait for this, I hope you still love the series as much as I do!

Recap

he’s just pretending with you, and he’ll get tired of pretending..

I collapsed on the sidewalk, bringing my knees to my chest and sobbing.

I don’t know how long I sat on that sidewalk for.

It seemed as if lately time was just passing by and I was still stuck in yesterday.

I got up wiping the tears from my eyes. I walked back to my apartment slowly. I could hear Jensen’s voice talking on the phone.

“she kept saying he paid her.. I want him found now.” Jensen growled.

I slowly opened the door slipping inside.

Jensen turned around a furious look in his eyes.

“where the fuck have you been? do you know how worried you made me?” He growled.

“I’m so sorry Jensen that I don’t do everything I’m told, maybe you just really need someone who obeys your every command.” I sassed.

“Don’t be ridiculous (y/n).”

“I saw how she was with you, how you were with her.”

“for fucks sake she had a gun to you, I would’ve done anything to subdue her.” Jensen growled standing over me.

“where is she now, is she still here?” I asked curiously.

“no of course not, she’s in the psych ward getting the help she needs.”

It was quiet for a minute, Jensen and I both taking a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry I know she scared you.” Jensen said running a hand through his hair, a bit calmer now.

“Yeah she did, but you scared me more. I’m never going to be able to be exactly who you need me to be.” I said fighting back tears.

“(y/n).” Jensen said taking a step closer to me.

“don’t crowd me, please I need space.” I said rising from my spot on the arm of the sofa and walking away from him.

“please don’t do this, don’t give up on me.” Jensen said following close behind.

“Jensen I just need to think.”

“don’t leave me.” Jensen said grabbing my arm to keep me from walking further away.

“Jensen I’m scared. You say I’m enough and that this is enough for you but what if one day it’s not.” I whispered biting my lip.

“Not enough?” Jensen asked confused.

Jensen gripped my face forcing me to look deep in his eyes.

“Haven’t I showed you how enough you are? I’m not the same man I was when I met you. I.. I kissed you. I told you things about me I’ve never told anyone else. You are enough and then some. My entire life has changed since I met you. God if anyone should be scared it’s me. I can’t be without you, you’ve already proven that.” Jensen said tears lacing his eyes.

I looked at him feeling guilty.

He was right.

He had completely changed his ways and everything he once believed in. He jumped off the deep end with me and I never realized just how deep he went until now.

I was letting insecurities win.

I was letting them win.

“this is me, all of me, and I’m all yours.” Jensen finished grabbing my hand and running my thumb over his plump lips.

I stared at him, tears rolling down my cheeks.

God I loved this man with every fiber of my being.

I stood on my tippy toes connecting my lips with his in a passionate hungry kiss. Jensen picked me up wrapping my legs around his waist not breaking the kiss.

He ascended the staircase, kicking open the door to my door. He gently placed me on the bed, removing his shirt from over his head.

I bit my lip looking at him.

It was a sight I don’t think anyone could ever get used too.

I quickly peeled my shirt over my head and discarded my bra. I didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Jensen tugged off his jeans before once again kissing me passionately.

I would never get tired of this either.

It was as if I were an addict and his lips were the medication.

Jensen kissed down my neck making me moan. He grabbed my pants practically ripping them off my legs. His lips trailed down my body, his fingers followed sending shivers throughout my body. He stopped when he got to my pulsing core. It was enflamed, aching to be touched. Jensen licked his lips and looked at me from under his long lashes.

“did I ever tell you, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Jensen purred kissing my thighs.

I moaned as he delicately slid my panties down. I gasped as he worked his mouth on me. A mixture of moans and expletives left my lips as he sucked and kissed my core. I was about to burst when the sensation stopped.

Jensen stood up freeing himself from his boxer shorts. I stood up gripping his length in my small palm. His head fell back as I sunk to my knees. I kissed his thighs teasing him a bit as he had done. I took him in my mouth, massaging what wouldn’t fit. I looked up at him as I work my tongue. His moans were gruff, sexy, and loud.

Jensen pulled me up by my chin. As soon as I was up he kissed my lips gently pushing me up against the wall. I jumped in his arms allowing him to enter inside me. Jensen thrusted pushing me up against the wall harder with each thrust. He put a hand beside my head trying to steady us.

I felt myself slipping in to a euphoric coma as I neared my release. I cried with pleasure as the floodgates opened sending my arousal all over Jensen. He groaned meeting his orgasm as well. I was completely out of breath when Jensen pulled out laying me on the bed once again before crawling in beside me. I laid my head on his chest, his hand instinctively went to my back tracing small circles.

“I love you so much it’s scary.” Jensen said gazing down at me with those hazel eyes that I’ve grown to admire.

I gazed in his eyes, they looked tired. I know this whole ordeal has taken a lot out of him.

“I love you too, and I’m not going anywhere.” I said kissing his lips with a peck.

I snuggled back in to him. It wasn’t long before his soft snores filled the room. Once I was sure he was out, I carefully got out of bed without jostling him. I needed some air.

I grabbed his shirt throwing it over my body before stepping out on to the balcony. I shivered as the night air hit me.

I bit my lip looking at the stars.

How in the world did we get here?

I can’t believe that in this short time I’ve fallen in love with a man I could only have dreamed about.

What was even crazier was he was in love with me too.

So in love with me it scared him to lose me.

It was a feeling I’d always hoped I would find.

I glanced back at the large man in my bed.

I knew that no matter what from this day forward I couldn’t be without him.

He was everything.

Jensen’s troubled voice shook me from my thoughts. I ran inside crouching down beside him. His eyebrows were furrowed and sweat cascaded down his forehead.

“no, please no.” He cried in his sleep, the nightmare overtaking him.

“Jensen.” I whisper putting a hand on his cheek.

He jolted awake, his heartbeat rising.

“Jensen I’m here, I’m right here.” I said stroking his cheek.

He expertly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me back in the bed.

I couldn’t have been prepared for the next words that left his lips.

“marry me.” He simply said looking deep in my eyes.

“what.” I breathed in shock.

“I want you to marry me.” He said his eyes fluttering.

“Jensen I think you’re still dreaming.” I said biting my lip and stroking his cheek.

He pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair, his snores once again filled the room.

I felt like my heart was beating so fast that at any moment it might burst right out of my chest.

I don’t know how, but somehow I managed to fall asleep, his words dancing in my head like a melody.

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

I woke up, the sun blinding me. I reached over feeling the space beside me empty. I could hear a faint rock song playing. I walked downstairs seeing Jensen shirtless, doing push-ups in the living room.

I leaned against the door frame admiring the view. I clenched my thighs each time his back muscles clenched. He was so incredibly sexy.

“are you just going to stand there and gawk.” Jensen smirked mid push-up.

“that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I said before biting my lip.

Jensen laughed doing a couple more sets. Finally he hopped up wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“good morning, how’d you sleep?” he asked grabbing his water bottle before meeting me in the doorway with a kiss.

“good, and you?” I questioned wondering if he had any recollection of last night.

“good, was out all night.” he said before taking a sip.

“you didn’t have any weird dreams, or like wake up at all did you?” I pushed.

“no, none that I can think of.” He shrugged.

“hmm.”

“I mean there was that little thing of asking you to marry me, aside from that I can’t think of anything else.” Jensen smirked.

I feel the air getting caught in throat. He remembered, which could only mean he was serious. I heaved a sigh of relief pushing his shoulder.

“come on don’t mess with me like that.”

He smirked some more.

“how should I mess with you then huh? like this?” He asked before tickling my side.

“Jensen stop.” I laughed pushing his hands away.

Jensen picked me up, my legs instantly making their way around his waist, my arms gripping his shoulders. I brought my lips down capturing his with a passionate kiss.

Jensen stared at me intensely.

“I meant it you know, I want to marry you.” Jensen spoke.

“why?” I asked still in shock that he would want to marry me.

“because I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you.” He was quick to answer.

I took a deep breath. Nobody has ever loved me this intensely before.

“I don’t expect you to say yes right away, I know that I can be complicated and intense.” Jensen said .

“just.. just a little bit.” I joked finally finding my voice.

Jensen put his lips back on mine kissing me passionately.

I think I could get used to this the rest of my life.

I hope this lived up to everything you guys were hoping for! I’ll be back with part 16 but don’t worry I won’t take five years to update I promise!

xoxo

Liv

[katelynnwrites]

Can You Keep Me Close? (Can You Love Me Most?) | Ona Batlle

warnings: smut, skip the first part of the fic if you’re uncomfortable with that

word count: 3430

summary: all you want is for someone to stay, keep you close and love you most. will ona be able to do so for you again?

chosen song: someone to stay by vancouver sleep clinic

a/n: chapter 5/6 of you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time), includes this request

Ona gasps into your mouth, her hands reaching for your waist.

This kiss isn’t at all like your first kiss.

It’s desperate, full of emotion and messy. You can taste the salt of Ona’s tears and you’re sure she can taste yours.

‘What does this mean?’ Ona breathes, putting her hands on your chest to stop you from connecting your lips a second time.

Her chocolate brown eyes are shining, breathing uneven as she trembles slightly.

You use your thumb to carefully brush away a tear that escapes from her eye.

‘We can talk more later but right now will you show me that you want me? Please Ona.’ You whisper, the weight of your request hanging in the tiny space between the both of you.

‘I can do that.’ Ona murmurs, nodding her head slightly.

The Spanish woman kisses you carefully, slowly walking you backwards towards your bed, where she sits you down.

Her hands slip under your hoodie, the gentle touch of her fingers on your skin making goosebumps form.

Ona feels them and smiles, heart clenching as she realises the effect she still has on you.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ She hums, tilting your head so that she can place a kiss onto the sensitive spot you have there.

The combined effect of her demonstrating that she still knew your body and her lips on that particular place makes you shiver.

‘Ona...’ You moan when she begins sucking gently.

Ona moans herself, your moan of her name sounding like heaven to her ears. She didn’t think she’d ever hear it again.

She keeps up her suction for a few more seconds before pulling away and seeking your permission to tug your hoodie off.

You shrug the material off immediately and Ona is quick to begin mapping your skin with her lips.

‘Y-you can leave marks if you like.’ You stammer shakily.

Ona groans at that, finding your collarbone and eagerly getting to work.

******

The first hickey sixteen year old Ona gives you is a complete accident. Making out with you had felt so good that she had gotten carried away.

She’s nervous and apologetic about it, completely freaked out by the bruise she’d marred your skin with.

Unlike her, you’re quite calm about her hickey, simply admiring it in the mirror (you loved how it looked on you).

Ona’s still flustered by the time you turn around to look back at her and that makes you laugh.

‘Don’t worry about it Oni. I think it looks great.’

‘Y-you do?’

‘Mhm. I do however, think it’s only fair that I’m allowed to give you one too.’

Your girlfriend becomes even more flustered by your response (her red cheeks are adorable you think).

Eventually she settles on a shy, ‘Only if you want to.’

Grinning, you’re fast to carefully tilt her neck to get better access. A gentle suction is started moments after you press a few kisses there.

Ona’s knees nearly buckle and her blush darkens.

As you continue with your rather enjoyable task, she lets out a moan and a strained, ‘Te amo.’

******

She leaves a red mark on your collarbone that you know will darken in a matter of hours.

The same treatment is given to your other collarbone before Ona moves on to trace what she can see of your breasts with her forefinger.

‘Off?’ You question and Ona nods (very eagerly you might add).

You acquiesce, lifting your arms so that Ona can take off your bra.

Her eyes immediately drop down, staring at your boobs in a way that would have made you self conscious if you hadn’t already known that she would do that (the first time Ona saw them you thought she was going to combust).

******

‘C-can I touch them-you?’ Ona stutters, unable to look away.

‘Amor, I change in front of you all the time. You’ve seen me in my underwear.’ You tease but Ona flushes and whines, ‘It’s not the same.’

You laugh and decide to put her out of her misery.

‘Go on Oni.’

Your sixteen year old girlfriend doesn’t need to be told twice.

******

Ona moans, as she cups your breasts. Her fingers brush over your nipples, making them stiffen almost immediately.

The fullback rolls them between her thumb and forefinger, alternating between that particular movement and gentle pinching.

‘Ona por favor.’ You plead, needing more.

You’re squeezing your thighs together, wanting Ona to give you something, anything to relieve that ache.

‘What do you need? Talk to me baby.’

‘Please. I need more.’ (‘i need you’ is left unsaid).

Ona kisses you passionately, pressing you onto your back as she straddles you.

‘Better?’

‘Sí.’

The Spanish woman leaves a trail of kisses as she moves down your body, only stopping when she reaches the waistband of your shorts.

She slips a hand underneath them, fingers seeking the wet spot on your underwear.

Ona finds it easily, pressing down and making your hips buck.

‘You’re so wet.’ Ona breathes.

‘You still get so wet for me.’

‘Always Ona.’ You admit, raising yourself on your elbows so that you can see her better.

Her eyes are wide and slightly teary so she hides that by removing your shorts and underwear.

Ona presses a kiss onto your pussy, splaying her hand onto your stomach to keep you still.

It’s much needed when she sucks your clit into her mouth, tongue swirling around it.

You cry out and Ona begins in earnest, trying to give you as much pleasure as she can.

‘You taste amazing amor.’

She pushes your legs further apart, spreading your folds and making you moan incoherently as she licks.

Your hand reaches down to tangle in Ona’s hair, tugging on it and making her hum against your soaking core.

The vibrations make your hip jerk uncontrollably and Ona laughs.

‘Sensitive Ona! Too sensitive.’

‘Lo siento.’ She whispers, giving you a little kiss on your swollen clit in apology, even as she smiles.

Ona’s touch is both reassuring and generous, intrinsically attuned to drawing out your pleasure.

And she does, making you let out a sharp cry of her name as you come onto her tongue.

The Spaniard grins, loving how still responded so beautifully to her affections.

She gives you a minute to recover, taking your hand in hers and kissing you on your fingers as you try and get your breathing to even out.

You pant, trying to sit up so that you can kiss Ona.

She makes the task easier for you, pulling you up in one swift motion.

Covering your hand in hers, you kiss her, pouring all your emotions into it.

How much you missed her, your longing for her, these past few years.

Ona responds in like, surging forward and kissing you back.

The kiss is as intimate as it is deep. It’s soft and steady, the gentle pressure of Ona’s lips on yours building a warm feeling in your middle.

‘Ona. Amor.’ (it just slips out, you don’t notice it but she does).

You lean your forehead against hers with closed eyes and she exhales weakly.

‘Oni.’ You mumble, tugging on her shirt.

She gets the hint, leaning back and pulling it off.

You put your hands on her waist, squeezing lightly as you pepper her chest with kisses.

She has new freckles from her time back in Barcelona and you want to explore all of them.

‘Baby.’ Ona’s moan is high pitched and she hurriedly reaches around to unlatch her bra.

Giggling at her enthusiasm, you knead one of her breasts in your palm.

Covering her other nipple with your mouth, you bite it very lightly, remembering how much it used to turn her on.

Your initiative is rewarded with a loud gasp from the fullback.

‘I-If you keep that up I’m going to come.’ Her voice is tight, her body practically shaking as she focuses on withholding her orgasm.

‘It’s okay. You can come whenever you need to.’ You reassure her but she shakes her head, tucking her face into your neck.

‘Don’t want this to end. I’m not ready.’ She softly admits.

‘Onita, please just let me help you come and then we’ll talk okay?’

‘Okay.’ Her voice is small but she stops hiding her face and kisses your cheek.

‘Fingers or tongue Oni?’

‘Whichever you want.’

‘Onita please.’ You murmur, intentionally using the nicknames to show your affection to her.

It works and Ona concedes, ‘Fingers…’

‘I miss the way you feel inside me.’ She shyly admits a half second later.

‘I missed it too.’ You admit, making the brunette smile and kick off her underwear and leggings.

Repositioning so that both you and Ona are more comfortable, you carefully stroke her arousal swollen bud.

‘You’re so gorgeous. Hermosa, you’ve always made me weak in my knees.’

Ona blushes furiously at your sentiment and you laugh, using your fingers to spread her open.

She cherishes it, willing herself to commit the sound to her memory because there had been long nights when she’d feared she’d never get to hear your laugh again.

She shivers in anticipation but as you begin to push your finger in, she grabs your wrist.

‘I haven’t done this in years. You’re the only one I’ve ever had sex with.’

Her brown eyes are tear filled, exposing how vulnerable she’s feeling.

You decide that if you want things to work out between the both of you, you need to be honest as well.

‘It’s the same for me Ona. I’ll go slow I promise.’

******

The first time you and Ona give yourselves to each other at eighteen, is beautiful.

It’s not the best sex you’ve ever had (the two of you improve much more over the years) but it’s the most special.

It’s slow, cautious and messy (curious as well), the both of you learning about and exploring each other’s bodies.

You didn’t think you would have another moment quite like it but the moment you and Ona find yourselves again, nearly ten years later tops it.

It’s familiar, having sex with each other but it’s made so much more intimate by the way the both of you were intent on relearning each other’s bodies.

******

She’s tense as you slide your index finger into her.

With how wet she is, you know you can easily add another but you gently thrust that one finger in and out of her until she gives you the okay to add a second.

Her eyes slip close, breathing growing stuttered as you alternate between smooth, deep strokes and rougher, shallower ones.

‘Bebé.’ She moans as her walls flutter around your fingers.

Ona makes a desperate grab for your free hand, squeezing it tightly and whimpering.

You start to curl your fingers with every thrust and Ona’s back arches with pleasure.

She doesn’t stop herself from letting you hear and see the effect you have on her, her moans of your name increasing in frequency and volume.

You don’t think she can stop herself and even if she did, you would know how much you aroused her from the copious amounts of her juices between her thighs.

When Ona finally allows herself to reach her high and spill her release, she muffles her moans with her arm.

The tears the both of you had been withholding break free and you find yourself clinging to Ona for comfort.

She doesn’t turn you away as you’d half feared she would, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close instead.

‘I’m here amor. I promise I’m always going to be here from now on.’

******

You soak in as much time as you can in Ona’s arms before you break the silence regretfully.

Lying with your head resting on Ona’s bare chest, listening to her heartbeat as her fingers comb through your hair, you hated to end the moment.

‘Ona, we should talk now.’ You whisper and she nods, extricating herself from behind you and passing you your hoodie before wearing her own.

She resettles herself opposite you, eyeing you with more than some trepidation.

‘Ona?

‘Yes?’

‘You wrote me letters on my birthday. You didn’t forget about me?’

Ona lets out a mirthless laugh, ‘How could I? You are my world. Just because I made an awful decision doesn’t mean that that changed. You are always going to be my world, even when we’re apart.’

‘Oh.’

Inhaling and exhaling as you fiddle with a loose thread on your shirt, you look back up at her and softly say, ‘I never forgot about you either. Do you want to know what I did on your birthdays?’

‘Yeah.’ Ona breathes, the revelation that you had thought about her too making her heart skip a beat.

******

All your United teammates knew not to disturb you on Ona’s birthday.

The first year Millie was the one the rest of the team sent to try and comfort you (they had all wanted to come but you had a tendency to be overwhelmed). The English woman had tried but you had shut yourself off and refused to open your door.

You had stayed inside, with the chocolate cupcake you bought from yours and Ona’s favourite cafe.

Chocolate was Ona’s favourite flavour.

Sitting on your bed, you would blow out a little candle on the cupcake at midnight, whispering a tiny broken, ‘Feliz cumpleanõs Ona.’

It became your tradition, every year your teammates would leave you alone (it wasn’t like they weren’t there for you, each and every one of them would text you a short message, just to check in. but they knew you preferred it this way. you needed to grieve and this was your way of doing it) and every year you would buy a chocolate cupcake and a candle to celebrate Ona’s birthday on your own.

******

‘You did that? Every year?’ Ona’s voice is shaky, tears forming in her eyes as she takes in this new piece of information.

‘Yeah…’

Ona buries her face in her hands and sobs quietly.

‘Lo siento. Lo siento mucho.’ She mumbles.

‘I know you are. But is that enough Ona? You didn’t come back for me for years. I stayed here all this time because some little part of me always thought you would come back. I had plans…I had plans for us. You made me feel important and then you tried to erase us. Years of loving you and even after you broke my heart, it showed! When I got my ribs fractured last year, I asked for you. In the hospital, Millie told me that the first words I said after coming out of sedation were your name and how I wanted you.’

Ona’s breath hitches and to your surprise, she nods.

‘I know. And I came.’

‘Y-you did?’

The fullback inclines her head slightly.

‘I did. Ivana called and told me what Millie had told her. Even though I was supposed to play that day, I was on a plane out immediately. I came to your hospital room.’

Shaking your head in confusion you tell her, ‘I don’t remember. I’m sure I didn’t see you Ona.’

‘I know. It was late and you were sleeping. I could not stop myself from holding your hand. You looked so small, so fragile in that bed. I stayed with you that night, never once letting go of your hand. In that awful plastic chair, I sat with you the whole night. I couldn’t sleep, I just sat and watched your chest rise and fall with every breath.’

‘Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you wake me at least?’ You desperately ask.

‘You needed your rest and I could lie and say I was scared of breaking you further while you were already broken but really I wasn’t brave enough.’

Ona swallows hard, eyes dropping to the duvet.

‘I left when the sun started to rise. I kissed you on your forehead, told you I loved you and promised I’d be back before catching the first flight back to Barcelona.’

‘Those flowers…it was you.’

You remember now, the bouquet of daisies that had no name and no card. Daisies are your favourite and you didn’t think anyone else knew it (nobody knew other than Ona and that should have really clued you in, an entire year ago).

‘Yeah…’

You don’t know what to say, simply staring at the brunette.

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot for you to process.’ Ona picks at her fingernails, refusing to meet your eyes.

‘You were scared?’

You know that she knows you’re not asking about the last time she was in Manchester but rather the time before that.

Ona looks up with a tiny melancholic smile, ‘I was terrified. I’d wake up in the night just to make sure you were still in bed with me. When I slept on the couch, I would come back in to sit on the edge of the bed and watch you sleep. It was the night you were crying as you slept that I couldn’t-I just knew that I had gone too far. I was hurting you even in your sleep.’

‘I-I didn’t know. Was that the night before you left?’

‘Yes.’

You blink back tears, eyes darting all around the room in an effort to just not look at her.

Ona sighs and reaches for your hands.

‘Our love, my love for you was so big and that scared me. What scares me even more is that that love has only become bigger. It’s bigger than the whole sky.’

The tears that you had tried so hard to hold back fall then (you were getting really tired of crying).

‘But you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, what you were going through. That hurts even more than you rejecting my proposal.’

Exhaling slowly, you continue, ‘I thought that was something we had worked towards. We had discussed it multiple times over the years and we agreed that marriage was something that we both wanted. I thought we were at that point in our relationship that we were ready for the next step. Finding out that you didn’t trust me enough to talk about your issues is heartbreaking. Ona I thought we trusted each other, I don’t know when that changed for you.’

‘That’s exactly it, nothing changed. I trusted you, I trust you still. I just thought that they were my issues and I had to solve them alone.’ She admits defeatedly.

‘Ona…’ You soften and reach out for her hand.

She lets you squeeze it, sucking in a deep steadying breath.

‘I would have been happy for you to share what you were going through. I would have helped you. You have never been a burden to me Onita.’

‘I know. I really am sorry amor. I have caused you so much pain and that’s why I don’t understand why you’re treating me so well.’

‘Is that why you got so angry at me today? Because you didn’t understand?

The fullback looks ashamed of herself as she nods.

‘I saw that you took away all our photos. Every photo that I was in, you took down. I understand why you did, it showed how angry and hurt you were after the break up. You were in agony amor and yet you’re still more than nice to me.’

‘Ona. I-’

‘You don’t owe me an explanation.’

You sigh, moving and adjusting yourself so that you’re in her arms.

The brunette absentmindedly drops a kiss onto your head and you sigh again.

It’s so comforting being back with Ona, breathing in her unique scent and listening to her steady heartbeat that you begin to find your eyes slipping close.

The former Manchester United player must think you’re asleep after a while because she brushes feather light kisses onto the expanse of whatever exposed skin she can reach.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’ She whispers as she does so.

‘Please believe me when I say I’m sorry. And that I love you.’

You press yourself closer to her (her body still fit perfectly against yours).

‘I believe you. And I love you too.’

Ona gasps softly, kissing your forehead adoringly.

In that moment, she makes a silent vow that she’s going to do whatever she can to be good enough for you.

A sleepy smile forms on your face as Ona rubs soothing circles onto your back.

That’s how you fall asleep, resting in the arms of someone who loved you, someone who wanted you enough to come back for you.

Spanish Translations:

te amo - i love you

por favor - please

sí - yes

amor - love

lo siento- i’m sorry

hermosa - beautiful

bebé - baby

feliz cumpleaños - happy birthday

lo siento mucho - i’m so sorry

[romione-trope-fest]

Six Weasley Weddings

Fic Title: Six Weasley Weddings

Author Name: Be11atrixthestrange

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Brief Summary: Ron and Hermione attend six different Weasley weddings

Word Count: 7290

Rating: M

Any Trigger Warnings: NA

---

Bill + Fleur, August 1997

The Burrow grounds had never looked so tidy. From his seat in a golden chair next to Hermione and a polyjuice-disguised Harry, Ron admired the detailed and glamorous decorations that the family spent hours setting up. Gold balloons lined the rows of seats, and a large arch of twinkling lights highlighted the altar, where his brother, Bill Weasley stood awaiting his bride.

The hard work of wedding preparations had paid off; Ron could tell by the sea of smiling faces in the crowd as everyone stood and turned to face the back of the tent in anticipation of Fleur’s grand entrance. Ron followed suit and rose to his feet as he squinted through the lights to catch a glimpse of the bride. 

But when the tent flap opened and Fleur emerged, his eyes went elsewhere — to his brother standing at the altar. Hermione once told him that she always looked back at the groom at weddings, because he could never hide the emotion on his face when seeing his bride for the first time. She was right. Bill’s eyes had glazed over with tears and his face burned as red as the Gryffindor crest.

There was a time when Ron and his brothers would make fun of each other for crying, but that time had long since passed. These days it was a relief to see his eldest sibling shamelessly showing emotion. But Bill had always been like that, not oblivious to what his younger brothers thought, just unbothered. Ron remembered when Fred and George would pick on him for his fear of spiders, and Bill would look at them with pity, as if he knew something they didn’t. 

And honestly, he probably did, not that it mattered. He was the one standing at the altar awaiting his half-veela bride, and although his face was murky with emotion, nothing suggested he felt undeserving. At the end of the aisle stood a confident man who was more than ready for his future. 

As Fleur progressed down the aisle, Ron looked beside him. Hermione’s eyes welled with tears as she watched the bride. She looked like a Veela herself in that dress, or at least she had the same effect. He recalled his fourth year antics when he completely lost his cool around Veelas, and the overwhelming feeling that he’d never get a girl like that. He still felt that way now, looking at Hermione. And he did get a girl like that. Well, almost.

He still had work to do for that task, and the only way forward was to squash that lingering insecurity. 

TIme to take a lesson from Bill, who’d never felt insecure a day in his life. Ron reached for Hermione’s hand and slipped his fingers through hers. She responded with a squeeze. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to her, feeling the heat rise to his ears.

Hermione glanced at Fleur then back at Ron with an eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Ron. “Gorgeous.”

Hermione smiled and tugged him closer. He shuffled closer to her and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. You clean up nice too.”

Ron’s ears remained on fire, but the rest of him relaxed a little. And for some reason, it didn’t feel remotely uncomfortable to stand this close to his best friend. Not one bit. 

Percy + Audrey, June 1999

The open bar at Percy and Audrey’s wedding was a surprise to Ron, as neither the groom or the bride seemed like the type to regularly imbibe. But Ron was open to being proven wrong. He sat at the bar with a Butterbeer in hand, sipping away while he watched the party around him. Percy and Audrey had chosen to get married at a vineyard not far from the Burrow, and the grounds bore a striking resemblance to Ron’s childhood home. The ceremony had taken place underneath a pergola, which had now been converted to a dance floor. Chic cafe tables surrounded the bar, illuminated by the glistening sun at dusk which cast golden streaks of light across the rolling hills. There was even a small pond that shimmered in the late afternoon sun and a dock where the wedding party posed for photos earlier. 

It felt strange to be at a celebration, even a whole year after the war. Enjoying the music, dancing, and drinking seemed wrong somehow, and he couldn’t help but think that everyone was putting on a face, pretending to have fun, because that’s what you were supposed to do at weddings. Ron glanced to the dance floor and watched Bill and Fleur swirling around, dancing a little too slowly for the beat of the current song. His own parents sat at a table not too far, their expressions a strange mixture of pride and grief. They looked toward the pond, and Ron followed their eyeline to find George sitting out on the dock, his feet submerged into the water. 

His heart fell to his stomach. George had spent the better part of a year as a shell of himself, always working at the shop, and rarely coming by for Sunday dinners at the Burrow. Seeing him down at the dock broke Ron’s heart. 

But he wasn’t alone. The piercing sunlight and glare from the water muddied his vision, but Ron squinted and watched George lift an arm and drape it around someone’s shoulders. 

Angelina. 

A smile flashed across Ron’s face when Angelina laid her head on George’s shoulder. 

Upon second thought, it wasn’t too surprising. George and Angelina had been spending a lot of time together as of late. She even picked up a few shifts at the shop in her spare time. Ron had assumed that they were just friends like they’d always been, but maybe something had changed over the last year. Shared grief could do that. 

As if to confirm Ron’s suspicion, George turned toward Angelina and pressed a kiss to her temple. Angelina must have said something funny, because the moment George broke contact, he threw his head back and laughed. 

It had been a whole year since Ron had seen George laugh.

“Come and dance?”

Ron tore his focus away from the dock to find Hermione standing next to him. He grinned upon hearing the words he’d thoughtlessly spluttered to her nearly two years before, at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. 

“Of course,” he said before downing the last sip of his Butterbeer. He stood up, reached for her hand, and headed toward the dance floor. 

Once under the pergola, Ron wrapped Hermione up in his arms. It felt so much more comfortable than before. 

“Remember last time?” she asked, as if reading his mind. 

“Of course,” said Ron. The moment played in his mind frequently, but she didn’t need to know that he still heard their conversation as if it were yesterday, wondering what he could have said to sound smoother, cooler, and less like he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. 

“I really wanted you to kiss me last time,” she admitted. 

Ron smiled. The war was over. George was laughing. And finally, Ron could publicly kiss Hermione. 

“I really wanted to kiss you too. And now I can.” 

With that, Ron pulled her closer. Their lips met and her arms tangled around his neck. Ron let himself get lost in Hermione, ignoring any looks from fellow wedding guests, and squashing any embarrassment that he might have felt two years prior.  He buried any shame he felt for radiating happiness too soon. At that moment the world seemed to stop, and it didn’t matter that they weren’t alone. It didn’t matter that they weren’t supposed to be happy. 

They were happy, and this was all just one more step forward. 

Harry + Ginny, March 2001

“What do you mean there’s no harp player?” Ron wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers while he confronted the wedding band. Everything about this wedding day was going wrong. “Where the bloody hell is he?”

“He’s out sick, we thought we sent a patronus, but it must not have gotten to you.”

“No, it fucking didn’t—”

“Ron, calm down,” said Hermione as she approached behind him, her lilac-colored bridesmaid dress draped along the ballroom floor behind her. “We’ll figure something out.”

Ron resisted the urge to ogle her and focused on his anger. “Well the wedding starts in an hour, and Ginny really wants a harp player. Do you play harp, Hermione? Do you know another harp player?”

When did he become the high strung one?

“I can play harp.”

Ron whipped around to look at the speaker and his jaw dropped. Oliver Wood stood before him, a non-committal expression on his face. 

 “Really? You play the harp.”

“Yeah, actually. Took it up after Hogwarts. Got pretty good, if I don’t say so myself.”

Oliver was a surprise guest at the wedding. Evidently, he had moved to Romania after graduating and was now Charlie’s roommate. And, apparently, sometime between then and now he had taken an interest in the harp. 

“Okay. Thank you. If you want to convene with the band here, that would be amazing.”

“Sure!” said Oliver, who immediately turned to the band and started chattering away. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and tugged her along, happy to not be dealing with band-related drama right now. 

“Oliver Wood? Harp?” he whispered to Hermione. “When did that happen?”

“Just go with it,” said Hermione with a shrug. “One less fire for us to put out.”

Who goes from Quidditch to the harp? “Do you think Gin will notice?”

“That Oliver Wood is playing the harp? Yes, probably,” she laughed. “Let’s just not make a big deal out of it.”

Ron and Hermione proceeded up the stairs of the Grand Hotel ballroom, back to the bride and groom’s changing quarters. As the best man and maid of honor, their duties to make sure everything went off without a hitch at Harry and Ginny’s overly extravagant wedding turned quite stressful. Ron’s blood pressure had not returned to normal since he and Hermione had been thrown into wedding coordination earlier in the day, and that was up from a brand new baseline after they’d begun planning the gala months prior. 

That’s when he became the high strung one. This fucking wedding. 

Hermione, however, was cool as a cucumber. She thrived under pressure, obviously. That was good to know for the future, when it came time to plan their own wedding. Someday, maybe. 

“Okay, lets go check on these fuckers,” said Ron as they parted ways at the top of the stairs.

He could almost hear Hermione roll her eyes at his swear before he turned the corner toward the men’s changing room. 

Ron found Harry there, along with his other groomsmen, Ron’s brothers. Empty shot glasses lined the dresser, and Harry sat in a chair with his feet propped up next to the mirror. “Hey mate! The band’s all here?”

Resisting the urge to tell him everything, Ron nodded. “Everything is fine.”

“Great! Want to do another pre-wedding celebratory shot?”

“Do you really want to be stumbling over your vows, mate?” asked Ron. “The Daily Prophet’s here.”

“Eh, good idea. We’ll wait until the reception.”

“Probably best,” said Ron as he plopped into an empty armchair. 

A frantic knock on the door made Ron lose any hope of resting before the ceremony. “Come in.”

Hermione appeared at the doorway, an anxious look on her face. “Ron, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Ron rose to his feet and followed Hermione out the door, shutting it behind him. 

“So, the chocolate fountain is apparently broken…”

“Fuck.”

* * *

Hours later, Ron and Hermione found themselves glued to two armchairs in the lounge, cocktails in hand. The party was only beginning to die down, but there was still a determined, albeit intoxicated crowd bouncing on the dance floor. The news team had thankfully left, allowing the real party to begin.

Any other day, Ron would have loved to be on the dance floor with Harry, his brothers, and a ragtag crew of Gryffindors, but he was exhausted. And Hermione appeared the same. She yawned in between sips of Sauvignon Blanc, and her straightened hair was beginning to frizz. Honestly, Ron loved that look on her. 

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be relaxing now, but I’m still stressed.”

Ron scooted toward one side of his armchair, and nodded to the small space he created. “Come here.”

Hermione wasted no time joining Ron on his armchair, curling up in his lap. He loved that they were comfortable with public affection now. Or at least, they liked to take advantage of those times when everyone else was too drunk to notice. Ron slipped an arm around her and she nuzzled into his neck. 

“Well, I have to say,” he whispered. “We’re amazing wedding planners.”

“Yes we are,” she laughed. “But if we get married, we should definitely elope.”

Her words lingered in Ron’s mind. Did Hermione think about marrying him?

“We can elope when we get married,” he said. “That’s fine by me.”

“I said if,” she clarified, but the smile on her face signified it was just a joke. They might not talk about it, but they already knew.

“We can elope if we get married,” he repeated, overemphasizing the correction. He noted her eye roll as he planted a kiss on her temple.

“Maybe someday,” she added, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

Ron hoped she could hear the smile in his tone. 

George + Angelina, September 2001

Ron shuffled through a throng of party-goers and made his way to the far side of the dimly-lit room, eventually taking a seat at the bar next to his girlfriend. Hermione held an almost-empty daiquiri with one hand and used the other to support herself on the bar counter. He cracked a smile at her state. Drunk Hermione pretending not to be drunk was always a joy to witness. 

“How are you?” she greeted him, her syllables slurring together ever so slightly. 

“Drink too much?” He wasn’t one to judge, as the entire ballroom looked to be spinning in circles.

Hermione shrugged and looked longingly at her daiquiri. “I think everyone here has had a bit too much.”

“That’s true. 

Ron inched his barstool closer to Hermione, wrapped an arm around her, and took in his surroundings. George and Angelina had chosen to get married at an event center in the middle of wizarding London. They’d decorated the open concept warehouse to their liking, with cozy cafe lights, tropical plants, and plush furniture reminiscent of a 1920s nightclub. In the middle of the large space was a dance floor lined with floating candles, a callback to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. 

Ron spotted Bill and Fleur on the dancefloor with their daughter Victoire, who was thrilled to be showing off her new walking skills. Victoire had attracted a crowd of cheerleaders as she waddled in circles around Bill and Fleur, laughing through her toothy smile. Even Charlie, who normally preferred to be by himself, had joined in on the cheering and dancing. Ron was sure the half-empty rum and coke in his hand had something to do with that.

On the far end of the dancefloor sat Molly and Arthur, engulfed by squishy armchairs as they watched the commotion around them. It had been a while since Ron had seen a genuine smile on either of their faces, but that was the only way Ron could describe their expressions now.  

“Maybe having a big party isn’t so bad,” said Ron. 

Hermione didn’t need him to clarify what he meant, even though the last time they spoke about weddings was over three months ago. “You’re right.”

There was definitely something to be said about enjoying a wedding rather than planning one. But from Ron’s perspective, sitting at the bar with minimal responsibilities, a drink in hand, observing a room filled with laughter, drinking and dancing, the efforts were worth it. 

“George looks so happy,” she said, nodding toward the middle of the room, where Ron’s brother stood, his arms wrapped around Angelina as they danced, her ivory gown bouncing with each step. 

“He really does.”

At that moment, the candles and tea lights flickered out and the music stopped, leaving the whole room quiet and dark. Ron’s heart rate immediately skyrocketed, and his instinct was to reach for his wand, but the next few seconds proved he didn’t need to. 

Moments after the room went dark, the ceiling illuminated with magical fireworks. Wonderstruck gasps replaced the silence as the wedding guests paused to look up and take in the light show. 

Ron snuck a glance around the room. Molly and Arthur’s faces reflected the light above, and both of their faces glistened with tears. And they were the happy tears he hadn’t seen from them in a while. At the other end of the bar, newlyweds Harry and Ginny sat watching, his arm around her shoulders. Charlie had retreated to a sofa in the corner of the room with his roommate Oliver and the pair watched with their feet kicked up on the coffee table in front of them. Even Percy and Audrey, who normally retreated early from such gatherings, had stayed up to watch the show from a pair of armchairs by the window. Both of them held mugs of steaming tea as they admired the display above. George and Angelina shared a kiss in the middle of the dance floor, their silhouettes illuminated by the flickering lights. And next to him sat Hermione, still a little drunk, with a light trickle of tears cascading down her cheeks, as she scanned the room to soak up everyone else’s happiness.  

“So, if we get married, are we having fireworks?” asked Ron.

Hermione nodded and smiled up at the ceiling. “When we get married, there will be fireworks.”

Charlie + Oliver, July 2002

Ron and Hermione sat in the living room at the Burrow, soaking in the smell of Molly’s homemade pie wafting from the kitchen. Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione, and her head nestled against his shoulder. He stole a glance at her left hand, currently ringless, but not for long. Sunday dinners at the Burrow were a regular occurrence these days, but this one was going to be different — because Ron and Hermione had an announcement to make. 

It happened a week ago. They had just gotten home from a two week vacation to the coast with Harry and Ginny, who helped him orchestrate a romantic candlelit dinner on the beach where he could finally pop the question. Honestly, she’d been expecting it, and she even picked out the ring — a simple marquise solitaire on a gold band — but that didn’t make the actual event any less romantic, exciting, and tear-inducing. 

At this point, Harry and Ginny were the only ones who knew. At the moment, the ring felt heavy in Ron’s pocket, and he couldn’t wait to put it back on her finger and openly share their news and discuss wedding planning with his family. 

“Charlie should be arriving any minute!” shouted Molly from the kitchen. “Ron, can you make sure the fireplace is clear?”

“Sure thing,” said Ron as he untangled himself from Hermione. Ron and Hermione as well as Harry and Ginny stood and made their way to the fireplace to greet Charlie. 

As soon as they’d found themselves in front of the floo, emerald flames began swirling within the fireplace like shaken potion and a coughing Charlie stepped out onto the hearth. 

“Charlie!” greeted Ron. “And… Oliver!”

Molly came rushing out from the kitchen to greet her son. “Oliver, so nice to see you again! Charlie dear, I didn’t know you were bringing your roommate too. You’re always welcome, Oliver, we’ll just have to make another bed for you—”

“Mum,” interrupted Charlie as he went in for a bear hug. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it dear?” asked Molly, pulling away. She brought her son to arms length distance and held both hands in hers. At that moment, her eyebrows knit together when she felt something on Charlie’s hand. “What’s this?” she asked, lifting up his left hand, where a black band sat on his ring finger.

“Mum.”

“Charlie—”

“We got married, mum,” said Charlie, his voice shaking. “Oliver and I.”

Charlie glanced back at his roommate, his husband, and sent him a sheepish smile. “We didn’t know how to tell you.”

Molly looked as though she might cry. 

“Congratulations!” yelped Hermione, who ran to embrace both Charlie and Oliver in a hug. She was followed shortly by Harry and Ginny.

The rest of the Weasleys and Weasley wives appeared in the room and echoed their congratulations as well as Arthur, who embraced his new son-in-law. “I always knew you were more than his roommate,” he whispered to Oliver, who let out a laugh. 

Molly had disappeared into the kitchen, and was already busying herself with the oven. All Ron could hear was pots and pans banging around the stove. 

“She’ll come around,” assured Arthur, who had an arm draped around Oliver’s shoulder as if he was his own son. 

* * *

Charlie and Oliver now sat in the same spot as Ron and Hermione earlier that afternoon, surrounded by Weasleys as they retold details of their story, recounting their journey from roommates, to friends, to lovers, to spouses. Ron could almost see the stress and weight of holding such a big secret leave his brother’s shoulders as he looked more lively and lighter than ever. 

One change in plans, however — Ron and Hermione definitely wouldn’t be announcing their engagement today. Ron stole a glance at Hermione who was engrossed in Charlie’s story, but when she met his gaze with a soft smile, he knew she was thinking the same exact thing. It was okay, they could wait. 

“So, why didn’t you tell us?” It was George who finally spoke to the hippogriff in the room. “Did you think we wouldn’t approve?”

Charlie and Oliver exchanged a look. “We were going to,” said Oliver. “We told my family first, but they reacted… poorly. They’re very traditional, you see. Sort of like…” Oliver didn’t finish his thought, but gestured toward the kitchen. The rest of the family nodded. 

Arthur brought his voice down to a whisper. “I think she’s more upset about not being told than anything else.”

As if on cue. Molly Weasley emerged from the kitchen, her hair frizzy and nearly singed. She still looked angry, like steam was about to shoot out from her ears, but there was a softness to her expression that wasn’t there before. “Oliver, you still like buttercream frosting, right?”

Oliver looked at Molly with a wide-eyed expression. “Erm, yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

“For your wedding cake, obviously,” she huffed. “You can’t expect to take this away from me too?”

Oliver shook his head, “No, of course. We’d love a cake.”

“Good,” chirped Molly. “And I hope you don’t mind if we have a little celebration tonight. I can’t bear the thought that I missed my son’s wedding.”

“Mum,” said Charlie. “There was no wedding. We just went to the courthouse and had dinner at home. You didn’t miss anything.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Molly as she straightened out her apron and tamed her hair. “We’ll celebrate tonight.”

Charlie’s face illuminated with the signature Weasley blush. “Thank you, Mum.”

“I’m still angry,” she said, cutting him off. “But not for the reasons you thought. I love you.” And with that, Molly shuffled toward the sofa where Oliver sat and wrapped him up in her arms. “And you too. Welcome to the family,” she told him, her voice muffled by his cotton t-shirt. 

Oliver’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Molly.”

“Call me Mum,” she said, as she pulled him away to arms length, looking at him the exact same way she would look at Charlie. “Okay I have a lot of work to do to get this cake ready.”

With that, Molly Weasley scuffled back to the kitchen. “If anyone wants to help me, that would be lovely!”

Bill and Fleur rose to their feet. “We’ll be right in!”

Ron and Hermione shared a glance of agreement before climbing out of their chairs as well. “We’ll help too.”

* * *

Only a few hours later, the Weasley family was finishing up dinner outside, and the sun had begun to set, casting a crimson hue across the sky. Molly had done the honors serving a beautiful red velvet cake with buttercream frosting, complete with two miniature groom figurines made out of chocolate. 

Harry and George had charmed candles to float around the Burrow grounds, and at Molly’s request, the sound of Celestina Warbeck’s greatest love songs permeated the air. 

Charlie and Oliver had joined Ron and Hermione on a pair of wooden loveseats by the garden. 

“Did you expect a full wedding reception today?” asked Ron. 

“Of course not,” laughed Charlie. “This is a thousand times better than what we imagined.”

“So, if my math is correct,” said Oliver. “You two are the last singles standing.”

Ron’s face turned bright red. He didn’t want to share his news with Charlie and make him feel guilty about stealing the thunder. “Your math is correct,” he confirmed.

“Do you have any wedding advice?” she asked. 

“Wait. Are you two—?”

Ron nodded and Charlie’s eyes lit up. “It just happened last week. Don’t tell anyone yet,” urged Ron. 

“Well congratulations,” whispered Charlie. “I’m happy for you.”

Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione. “Thank you.”

“If you want my advice,” said Charlie, “Let Mum be involved. I feel awful that I hurt her.”

Ron shrugged. “I think you’ve more than made up for it. She seems thrilled now.”

“But,” added Oliver. “A secret elopement was definitely the least stressful way to go about it. And I can’t recommend that enough.”

Charlie let out a laugh. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there is a way to let Mum be involved in a secret elopement, so choose your poison wisely.”

Ron glanced at Hermione, who looked lost in thought. “Yeah. Probably not.”

The sound of glasses clinking interrupted their conversation. The rest of the family looked at Charlie and Oliver, anticipation on their faces. 

“We have to kiss now,” stated Charlie. “I hate this attention.”

“Just go with it,” said Oliver.

“This is why we elop—” 

Oliver cut Charlie off by planting a kiss on his lips. Charlie’s ears burned red between Oliver’s hands as the Weasley clan whooped and cheered. 

Ron held Hermione a little closer. 

One more wedding to go, and he couldn’t wait. 

Ron + Hermione, March 2003

Harry and Ginny had transformed their backyard into a luxurious event space for the wedding, which honestly, didn’t take much transformation at all. The gold tables and chairs contrasted nicely with the greenery of their garden. The flowers were in full bloom, creating a colorful backdrop and thick floral fragrance in the air, and Ron and Hermione sat underneath a steel arch entangled with vines. 

As the rest of the table enjoyed their meal, Ron slipped his arm under the table to hold Hermione’s hand. Their wedding was perfect. They had incorporated something from each of his siblings’ celebrations. The golden chairs from Bill and Fleur’s added a mark of elegance. The forest green bridesmaids’ dresses and grooms’ ties from Percy and Audrey’s wedding looked amazing with the flowers, as well as the Weasley red hair. Harry and Ginny had charmed the large fountain in the middle of their yard to flow with chocolate — their request, since they never did get their chocolate fountain running at their own wedding. Later, there would be a magical firework show straight from the backyard, courtesy of George and Angelina. 

But the best part about this wedding was that it wasn’t even their real one. 

* * *

One month prior…

Ron and Hermione’s real wedding happened one month ago, on Valentine’s day. Just like Charlie and Oliver, they had opted to get married in private, without anyone knowing. On February 10th, they caught a portkey to a remote coastal town in Australia and checked into a secluded beachside villa. 

Everyone else thought they were just on a quick holiday, which they desperately needed amidst the perceived stress of planning their wedding. No one knew that there really wasn’t much anxiety associated with the big event, because it wasn’t the one that truly mattered. Either way, their villa provided a reprieve from everyone asking them about napkin colors, seating plans, and appetizer menus. For three days, they went to the beach, cooked their own food, soaked in the oversized bathtub, and drank wine by the fire. Forgetting about their work responsibilities and family engagements back home was the perfect way to spend their last few days as an engaged couple. 

When Valentines’ day rolled around, their routine changed. Ron woke up first, and began preparing a full breakfast in the kitchen. The smell of sizzling bacon woke Hermione up, who later shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee. They sat on the balcony and enjoyed their meal while listening to the crashing waves of the ocean. 

“Can you believe this is our last meal as fiances?” asked Ron as he scraped the last of his eggs from his plate.

“Yes, actually. And I can’t wait,” said Hermione before draining the last drop of coffee from her mug.

After breakfast, they scourgified their dishes and didn’t even need to look at one another for confirmation before scurrying to the bathroom, where they met each other like magnets. Ron turned on the shower with one hand, while the other plucked at the buttons on Hermione’s sleep shirt, popping them open one by one. Their clothing landed in a pile on the floor and the pair landed under the steady stream of warm water. 

“One more shag as fiances?” asked Ron as he ran his fingers through her hair, her curls elongating under the weight of the water. 

“Obviously…”

* * *

Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the day dolling up in their suite to prepare for their private ceremony on the beach. Although his siblings had all followed the tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony, Ron much preferred to watch Hermione transform into a bride with his own eyes. Her gown was classic and elegant — a lacy, high-neck halter that accented her simple makeup, a bodice that hugged her curves perfectly, and a train that cascaded to the floor, accentuating her impeccable body. She had tamed her curls so they formed longer waves that framed her face. Honestly, Ron would have married her in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, but this was beyond his imagination. 

Hermione took a few paces back from the mirror and analyzed her appearance. Ron’s heart clenched knowing she was looking for imperfections to fix before the ceremony. 

“You look amazing,” he spluttered. “No need to change a thing.”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

Ron looked back to the mirror and ran his fingers through his ginger hair. He was still his pale, lanky, and freckly self, but his reflection exhibited something else. Staring back at him was a confident man ready to be a husband. For a moment, he reminded himself of his brother Bill. Ron recalled watching Bill in awe as he stood at the front of the aisle at his own wedding, secure in his stance with happy tears streaming down his face, and not a worry in the world. Of course, Ron did have a few worries swimming around in his mind. What if the random officiant they hired didn’t show up? What if the weather turned sour? What if the sun protection spells wore off too soon and he spent the rest of their elopement looking like a perfectly seared lobster? Yet his reflection conveyed none of that. Maybe he was more like Bill than he thought. 

Ron reached for his leather bound notebook on the nightstand. He had been working on his vows for a few weeks, trying his best to keep them concise, and figured it was time for one last check. 

Hermione, 

Is it possible to promise you the entire world? Because I would if I could. But I’ll start with the easy things. First, I promise to love you. That one is easy because I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you. Even before I understood what love was, I knew I felt differently about you. I laugh at my younger self for not realizing it sometimes. I promise to remind myself how damn lucky I am every day. 

I promise to never stop trying to make you laugh, even when you’re mad at me. On that same note, I promise to stay calm during heated moments. It’s no secret that we love bickering with each other, but love will always come first. 

I promise to take care of you, even though you might not let me. I want to hear about every tough moment. I want to cry with you when you’re sad, make you soup when you’re sick, and bring you coffee in the morning after sleepless nights. 

I also want to enjoy your successes with you. I want to bask in every one of your accomplishments, take you out to dinner just because I love you, and be the reason for those sleepless nights that require an extra cup of coffee in the morning. 

I want to grow old with you and tell you you’re beautiful every day, even when you scoff at it. I wish I could give you a glimpse into my mind and see yourself how I see you, but then I’d run the risk of you realizing you’re way too good for me. 

I promise to grow with you and constantly work toward being the man you deserve. I will put in 100% of my effort, every single day, because you’re worth it. 

And finally, I promise to prioritize our relationship above everything else in this life, never stop reminding you how much I love you, and thank you everyday for choosing to be mine. 

Love you more than you’ll ever know, 

Ron

He’d pored over his vows too many times, and had come to the conclusion that the right words didn’t exist. But this was close enough. 

* * *

With their wedding license tucked under his arm and his vows in his trouser pocket, Ron and Hermione left their villa and made their way down to the scenic overlook where their officiant was waiting for them. He was a tall, blonde, bearded man that neither Ron nor Hermione had ever seen or met before, and that was exactly how they wanted it. 

“You must be Ron and Hermione,” he asked politely as he extended an arm to shake their hands. 

“That’s us,” responded Ron with a firm handshake. 

“My name is Dave, and I’m here to perform your wedding.” Dave wore a light blue suit atop a white shirt with a matching blue bowtie. His hair was medium length and slightly windblown and shaggy, reminding Ron of a golden retriever that had taken a nap in front of a fan. If Dave hadn’t been wearing a suit, Ron would have thought he’d emerged from the ocean. A surfboard would have looked more at home tucked under his arm than the binder of notes on how to perform a wedding ceremony. 

Ron glanced at a beaming Hermione, appearing unbothered by any of this. “We’re ready.”

“Great! Is this a good place?”

Ron looked around him. From their place on the rocky cliffside, they could see miles of ocean. Tiny bumps of land lined the horizon, making it look like a child had painted it with a shaky hand. Were those reef islands? Or maybe New Zealand? Was it even possible to see that far ahead? Honestly, Ron loved being able to look out onto the horizon and see something, yet not know what it was. 

“This is perfect,” he said. 

“Then let’s get to it. We’ll start with your vows. I understand you’ve written your own?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, as she pulled a tiny notebook from behind the fabric of her bodice. 

Ron smiled at her unexpected hiding place. “Instead of reciting them, we’d like to give them to each other to read, if that’s okay.” 

“That’s perfectly fine,” said Dave. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged notebooks. With a trembling hand, Ron opened Hermione’s up to the first page, where her tiny but impeccable handwriting caught his attention.

Ron,

I don’t think that I can capture how I feel about you in a short letter, and luckily I have the rest of my life to continue showing you. But to start, I promise to remember how lucky I am to have found someone like you. There is no one who challenges me more. You make me a kinder, more loving, and more patient person, and I promise to continue embracing that challenge everyday. I promise to help you to be the best version of yourself, even if it means nagging you to pick your clothes up off the bedroom floor, or put the dishes away. I vow to stand by you when our plans change or fail, and keep solving the riddle of life with you. I will always be on your team - not just for the good - the date nights, the adventures, vacations, promotions, and milestones, but for everything else too - the fights, the disappointments, and setbacks. There’s no one I’d rather have in my corner when things go wrong, and there’s no one I’d rather celebrate with when they go right. And I promise to be that same support for you. Let’s embrace life hand in hand, no matter what it throws at us. We’ve already accomplished so much, and it’s hard to believe it’s just beginning. Together, we can do anything. 

I promise to love you forever. This is the easiest promise to make. I love you so much, and it grows every day. I would tell you there’s no way I could possibly love you more, but I know I will tomorrow, and I cannot wait. 

Yours forever,

Hermione

His eyes stung with tears, and he looked up to see Hermione’s watering just as much after reading his. “I love you,” she mouthed to him. 

“I love you too.”

The pair looked at Dave, cueing him to continue. He cleared his throat. “Do you Hermione, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?

Hermione beamed. “I do.”

“Do you Ron, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall—”

“I do,” said Ron, unable to wait until he finished.

Dave smiled and seemed to relax a bit. “I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss your bride.” 

Ron and Hermione came together fast, his arms wrapping around her waist. Their lips met and as if they had choreographed their first kiss as a married couple, he lifted her off his feet. Memories of their first kiss in the room of requirement all those years ago flooded his mind, and it almost felt like they were their teenage selves wondering what the future held for them. 

When they eventually broke apart, Hermione’s hair remained ruffled from the wind, her face flushed, and she smiled. “We’re married.”

“Yes we are.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, when they had completed all wedding-related duties, signed marriage licenses, and taken photographs, Ron and Hermione found themselves alone, for the first time as husband and wife.

Their villa looked exactly the same as it had when they left that morning, yet everything felt different. The kitchen was still cluttered from their cooking adventures, their bed was unmade, and clothes spewed out from their suitcases onto the floor. If they had been in their flat back home, Hermione would have fixated on the messes until they were gone, but today, she didn’t seem to care at all. 

“I love you in a suit.” She eyed him up and down, and Ron’s cheeks tingled with heat. Funny how she could still have that effect on him after all this time. 

“I love you in that dress.”

Hermione glanced down at her gown with a wistful smile. “Too bad, because I don’t think I’ll ever wear it again.”

“And I hope there’s never an occasion to.”

Ron took a step closer to her and looped his fingers underneath her shoulder strap. 

“Want to help me take it off?”

“Absolutely, I do.”

Ron wanted to savor the moment of taking off her dress, slowly tug the zipper down, flick her straps off her shoulders, and watch her perfect body emerge from the lace in awe, but he was not exactly known for his patience. It didn’t take much time before Hermione’s dress crumpled into a pile around her ankles. By the way Ron’s suit landed on the floor just as quickly, it seemed Hermione had thrown patience out the window too. 

Ron stepped back to take her in. Her windswept curls had lost their structure over the course of the afternoon, but the way they dangled in front of her breasts drove him mad. Her body was spotted with new tan lines and freckles, and Ron couldn’t wait to run his hands over every single one. Looking at her hands, he could almost feel the way her perfectly painted nails would dig into his skin between the sheets. Although beautiful, her long legs looked lonely without him in between them. She was spectacular, as always. 

“Is it okay to say I love you even more without the dress?”

She smiled, and Ron basked in the way her eyes scanned his body. “Of course it is. I much prefer your suit on the floor.”

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” The word still felt new coming from his lips, but he definitely could get used to it. 

“I can.”

Ron closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her waist, and she instinctively hopped up, her legs embracing him. He held her tight and waddled toward the bedroom, not caring that he nearly knocked over a lamp on the way. None of that mattered. Hermione pressed her lips to his and gripped his hair between her fingers. He loved it when she did that, it always made him want her even more. Without breaking their kiss, they collapsed onto the bed, limbs  intertwined, faces flushed, ready to begin the rest of their lives together. 

* * *

Present Day

Ron couldn’t let himself get distracted by memories of the perfect day — he had guests to attend to. At the moment, his siblings were already crowding him and Hermione to congratulate them. 

“Fantastic wedding,” said Charlie as he plopped himself down into a chair next to Ron. “I’m glad you didn’t elope.”

“Same,” said George, who had pulled up beside Charlie. “Because this steak is amazing.” 

“Your wedding is perfect,” echoed Ginny from her spot beside Hermione.

Ron gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze. Although she didn’t know it, Ginny was right, their wedding was absolutely perfect. 

[sailtomarina]

There's no one here but us

cw: smut

If Hermione listened very carefully, she could still hear the sounds of cheering in the distance, as well as the occasional scream of what she hoped was delighted fright. She knew the Great Hall overflowed with candied dishes and pumpkin cider. The ghosts were out in full force, from the Headless Hunt—poor, Nick—to the Parade of Souls, complete with a Ghostly Wedding.

Halloween had returned to Hogwarts.

She could still be there, now, had she chosen to stay in the company of her friends. She could still go back and they wouldn’t say a single thing. Instead, she’d looked across the tables towards eyes that glinted silver. She’d stood and excused herself. She’d walked out and down a corridor she knew would be empty at this hour.

She didn’t even scream when pulled into an empty classroom.

How he always caught her off guard despite her expecting him, she could never figure out. It was like he was the one who’d grown up with a best friend’s Invisibility Cloak, rather than Hermione.

The door slammed shut, followed by locking and silencing spells. Strong hands pressed her into the door. A hard thigh ground into a core that pulsed with need.

“Malfoy, are you sure this is a good place—” Her protests were silenced by a thumb slipping past her lips, the hand cupping her jaw and lifting her eyes to look up at him.

“Shhh, there’s no one here but us, and that’s what silencing spells are for.” He replaced the loss of his thumb with a kiss that vanished any arguments. She couldn’t think past the sensation of him—the body that surrounded her, the heady smell of his cologne, the soft lips that covered her own. 

He worked his way along her jaw and down her neck, softly biting against the tender skin before sucking a bruise to the surface.

“What happened to the mark I left last time?” He murmured, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“I…ah! Healed them. There’d be too many questions.” Hermione clutched at his shoulder, her other hand combing through the white hair she’d always wanted to touch and was so much softer than she imagined.

“Leave this one.”

“But—”

“You can just glamour over it, or wear a scarf, if you want. I want to know it’s there, see it next time.”

She tried not to flush at the assurance of his words. Their trysts were never planned. They weren’t in anything she’d label a relationship. A warning bite on her nipple brought her attention back to him.

“You’ll leave it,” he ordered, looking up balefully at her.

“Yes.”

He rewarded her admission with a forgiving lick and a tweak to her other nipple. “Good girl.”

His words sent another rush through her, and she struggled to relieve the pressure against the thigh holding her up. Chuckling, he aided her, dropping his hands to her hips to pull her down against him.

“Nnnnggg, I need more, please!” Godric, how she whined. His grin showed how much he liked the way she pleaded with him.

“Yeah? Do you want to come like this, Granger?”

She nodded frantically, attempting to slide along his thigh but not finding the friction to do so.

“Or would you rather come on my cock?” He cut into the last word sharply, knowing just how much his words affected her.

“Gods, yes, please, Malfoy!”

She could feel his hands tightening on her hips, hard enough to leave bruises. Would he want her to leave those, too?

“Ask me nicely.” His words were soft, and she knew better than to mistake them for a sweet request.

“Please, Draco,” she whispered, “let me come on your cock,” barely getting the words out before he dropped his knee and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him.

He walked them the short distance it took to drop her onto the large desk at the front of the room. Falling to his knees, he pressed her skirt up and tucking fingers into the waistband of her knickers to slowly pull them down. She lifted up to help, receiving a swift kiss to her knee in appreciation.

Once he’d tucked the bit of white lace into his pocket, he tugged her forward so she barely sat on the edge of the desk. Hermione knew what was coming, but still found it unbelievable that Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, treated oral sex like his favorite dessert. He dove into her folds like a man starved for too long. She didn’t think she could ever say no to him, either, because she was convinced that there couldn’t be another lover out there possible of bringing her to pleasure with their tongue as skillfully as he could—it was as if he was wired to her desires, even ones unknown to her.

He brought her to pleasure not just once, but twice, and nearly had her cresting a third time before he stopped short and surged upward to press into her with his delicious length, the tremors of her orgasms still wracking through her. She knew the pulsing created a near unbearable strangulation, and were he any less controlled, he might explode right there.

But this was Malfoy, a wizard who’d survived the past couple of years on the self-control in which his family excelled. He would die before he finished early and before he’d fulfilled his declaration of fucking an orgasm into Hermione Granger.

He hauled her legs up to rest on his shoulders and pressed his chest down to hers, affording him a deeper angle and making Hermione feel almost unbearably full of his generous length and girth. Regardless of the pressure, Hermione squeezed her inner muscles out of a different need, entirely.

“Fucking FUCK, fucking Granger,” he groaned, one hand grabbing onto her shoulder for leverage, the other gripping tight to her knee. He nearly lost control then, the long, smooth strokes giving way to a driving need that bordered the line between pleasure and pain.

Hermione loved making him lose it. She was half convinced that was what made him return to her again and again.

Oh, she knew about his history with other witches, knew of his reputation that they couldn’t help but giggle and whisper about. He was oh so proper before the war, but now he looked like he was trying to lose himself in pursuit of pleasure.

She knew he’d thought about her for months, perhaps even longer. She saw the way his followed her and waited for the day he made his move. Now, here they were, and here they’d been for far longer than she knew he spent on anyone else.

If only the sex weren’t so good.

Hermione had lost any sexual inhibitions she might have had before, too. Except, unlike Malfoy, she kept her conquests to herself. There would be no whispers, no memories of the time spent between her thighs. She took, then she wiped all evidence clean. She’d planned the same for Malfoy, had even done the same to Malfoy the first time.

Still, he persisted.

She thought he’d lose interest like all the other boys. Surely, his subconscious would understand it had obtained what it wanted and move on. Yet, after their admittedly mind blowing night of debauchery, he confronted her just as determined as he had the first time. His eyes held the same hunger. So Hermione set aside her previous plans and indulged. She would let this go on for as long as she could until he started to lose interest.

How could she not resist attentions that lifted her above everything else and made her feel like the center of his entire universe. They might not hold hands or even talk in public unless required, but there was no denying the possessive looks, nor the jealous touches every time someone even hinted at flirting with her.

Hermione reveled in the baffled looks other witches wore when their approaches were rebuffed or, worse, ignored. Perhaps that was what prompted her to slip her hands underneath his shirt and rake her nails down the bare skin of his back. She’d leave her marks on that lily white flesh and demand he leave them.

He hissed at the pain, dropping his hand from her shoulder to wrap around her neck. At the same time, his other hand slid down her thigh to circle a thumb around her clit. Hermione felt like she was being squeezed into a tunnel devoid of anything but his hand around her throat, the tireless pumping of his cock, the maddening touch of his thumb just barely where she wanted it. The walls closed in, and, sensing her increasing urgency, Malfoy finally pressed exactly where she needed. 

With a gasp, she careened straight into her third orgasm, and he loosened his grip, allowing blessed air to drive her to greater heights. She wailed in the ongoing rhythm of him sliding through her clenching depths. It wasn’t until she shuddered that he gave in to the pressure and spent himself into her, groaning and swearing as he emptied in bursts.

They collapsed together, his body deliciously weighing her down. Odd, how with anybody else, Hermione would feel smothered, pushing them off of her once the moment was over. She felt like she could lie under him for hours yet.

He moved to pull away, and she wrapped her arm around his back to resist. “Please stay, at least just for a little longer.”

“I’m not crushing you?” he asked, surprise tinging his voice. With their bodies pressed together this way, she could feel their hearts slowing, their breaths just starting to even out.

“I like the weight of you.”

He obliged and relaxed once more, muscles loose and fingers drawing circles on her skin. They stayed like that until goosebumps raised in the wake of his fingertips and she shivered in the chill of the room.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm,” he said softly, finally rolling off of her. 

Hermione felt an  immediate and irrational sense of loss. That, too, was unlike her. Was she getting attached to Malfoy?

Perhaps it was time to move on.

Once their clothes were back to rights and they stood ready to leave the room, Hermione raised her wand to point it at the back of his head.

“Hermione.”

Her name fell from his lips without him even turning around, and she froze.

“Can we just…explore this?

She could see the tension in his shoulders, how they tightened beneath the thick robes. He kept his back to her as if looking her in the eye would set her off.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” she asked quietly.

“Then why are you trying to make me forget again?”

Again?

This time, he did turn around. His movement was slow, giving her plenty of time to cast her spell. When he finally faced her, the look in his eyes caused her to lower her wand.

He wasn’t guarded like he often was in front of everyone else, nor was he smirking with that signature uptick of his lips. He left himself completely open to her, and, for once, she could see him clearly.

“You know,” she stated.

He nodded.

“How?”

“We Malfoys have always excelled at Occlumency.”

“I was pretty sure it stuck.” She was more than sure at the time.

“It did, for a little while,” he admitted. “I could tell something was off, though. I have certain…safeguards…in place.”

They stared at one another silently, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Hermione’s wand twitched against her leg.

Maybe she could do a series of memory spells, layer them in such a way that he’d never figure out how to undo them even if he did realize something was missing. Doing that properly would take further study, though. She wasn’t confident in casting anything so complicated for the first time in panic.

Take the loss now. Come back and finish the job later when his guard was down.

Just as she was about to pretend defeat and convince him to let them go on their separate ways, he surprised her yet again.

“How about we make a deal?” He leaned back against the door looking for all the world like she hadn’t just tried to wipe his memories.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she took the bait. “What kind of deal?”

Relief seemed to flash across his face for a brief moment, but in a blink his face was back to carefree confidence.

“We have this,” he waved at the space between them, “but I’d like us to get to know each other out there.” He jerked a thumb behind him.

“…out there,” she deadpanned. What, did he want to have outdoor sex?

He sighed in exasperation and buried his face in his hands. He took a few deep breaths before raising his head again, jaw set.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’d like us to be friends, Granger.”

He was saying words that she knew individually, but when strung together didn’t fit within the box of her expectations.

“…friends.”

“Can you stop repeating the last words of my sentences?”

She coughed in embarrassment, realizing she’d done to him exactly what Harry and Ron had done to her so many times in the past. She was a smart witch. She could gather her thoughts before opening her mouth.

“Why me?” she asked, scrambling for more time to think.

He raised one elegant brow. “Other than I like having sex with you and don’t fancy forgetting it?

She nodded, again tapping her wand against her leg. His eyes flickered down to catch the movement, before he brought them back up to answer her.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have many friends left. You’re one of the few people I spend any amount of time with.”

She had noticed. There was the obvious evidence that he was something of a pariah in his house after everything that had happened. Very few of their year had even returned, most noticeably in Slytherin. They were either dead, like Crabbe, transferred, like Zabini and Parkinson, or hadn’t been close friends with Malfoy in the first place, like Tracy Davis.

“What about Nott?” She’d seen him hanging out with the dark-haired boy from time to time, almost always separate from anyone else.

“Yeah, Theo’s a good mate,” he conceded. “We’re a lot alike. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to get to know you more.”

“You said this is a deal. What if we find out we don’t make such good buddies?” 

“Then I’ll remove my safeguards and let you wipe everything clean,” he immediately responded.

He said it like it was so easy, removing an extended period of time from existence. Casual sex was one thing, but friendship? Where did one even draw the line between normal interactions and something more meaningful? If she was forced to cast the spells, she’d have to concoct reasons for their fallout that would bear weight under the scrutiny of those around them—reasons that people like Theo Nott would believe.

“Time frame?”

“Graduation.”

She frowned. “That’s too long. The closer we get, the more memories I’ll have to tamper with.”

“You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion.” He looked amused, She didn’t bother batting away his hand when it reached out to play with the sleeve of her jumper.

“What about Christmas?” That was only a couple month’s away. “It’s still a decent chunk of time to manipulate…nobody will bat an eyelash at a falling out between now and then, and there’ll be the holiday to reset everything for the following year.”

“Again, you say that like failing is a sure thing.”

Hermione huffed. “Take it, or leave it, Malfoy.

He let go of her hem to trail his fingers beneath hers and raise them to his lips. “I’ll take it.”

His kiss against her skin was gentle, the tone of his voice hopeful. Despite her reservations, she felt likewise inclined towards something bordering on warmth.

Now that she needed to control.

“I’m not interested in making love or being sweet.”

His grin split across his face as he took delight in her declaration. “Lucky for you, I am multifaceted.”

For some reason, Hermione felt the need to elaborate. “That isn’t because I’m incapable of either.”

“I never said you were,” he replied quickly. She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off with a raised hand. “But if you ever change your mind, I want to know.”

How he oscillated from playful to serious so quickly, she could never figure out. Perhaps she would some day if they actually got to know one another.

Rather than stagger their exits, they walked out together back towards the Great Hall. Like friends. The closer they got to the staircases, the better they could hear the festive noises still spilling out from the central area. It was as they were passing the girl’s bathroom that Hermione remembered another Halloween, the image of a snot-covered wand rising to memory.

“What’s so funny?”  Draco looked quizzically at her as she chuckled.

She considered him, the half light of the corridor casting shadows on his handsome face and his hair still ruffled from where she’d grabbed on earlier. His lips were slightly swollen, the pink standing out against his otherwise pale skin. 

“Do you remember Halloween of First Year and the troll?”

“How could I forget?” He snorted and shook his head. “Quirrell came running in all freaked out and everybody panicked. Why do you ask?”

“Well, what really happened was…”

The easiest place Hermione could think of starting this thing of theirs was telling him the truth behind the stories only the boys and she knew. Maybe after hearing them, he’d come to his senses and realize she was more trouble than it was worth.

She talked, he listened and laughed hard enough to hug his ribs, and she found herself telling him more.

“I can’t believe they took away points for you being in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

Or, maybe not. Maybe, he was onto something.

WC 3032

Twitter prompt from @DramionePrompts

Cross posted on Tumblr  and AO3

This was SUPPOSED to be a smutty short without story or feelings, but apparently I'm incapable of just cutting all those things out, which is how this became something just a tad longer than my usual daily prompt. Rather than taking just the one day, I ended up thinking about it the past few days.

[galedekarios]

#this took so much work#but i really wanted to make this#sorry it got so long

Personally I thank you for your hard work and that gif set is just as long as it needs to be. I for one can't recall hearing the dialogue in the second gif before so I'm glad to see it now.

thank you so much, i really do appreciate the support and kind words a lot! 🖤

the line is from early access! i touched on it in this post.

if you want to see and listen to it, tim's performance of it, i included a short clip from early access:

the quote itself is from gale's early access romance scene in act i after the tiefling party. that scene was cut and most of it is completely gone. some lines were re-used in the full release version of the game: in act 1, for the reveal scene where gale lets the protag into his mind, and others for the beginning of the act 2 romance scene/last night alive scene.

the conversation started like this:

Gale: I know we have to get moving again soon, but before we part, I’d like to tell you something. I’d like to tell you a story. It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess. Player - Option 2: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know. Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

if you then chose to indulge gale, letting him tell the story with "a bit of narrative distance" to make it "easier in the telling" for him, this was the story he would tell the player in early access:

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

from there, the conversation branched again:

Player - Option 1: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Player - Option 2: He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. Player - Option 3: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him.

leading to the quote that i used for my gifset, highlighting gale's lines about the life of a chosen:

Gale: Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

i'm thinking about dedicating a full post to the original ea romance scene in act 1 when i find the time to do so because it's an interesting scene.

anyhow, i hope that was helpful! 🖤

[strawberrypinky]

Would it be possible to get a sneak peak or snippet for chapter 4 of fire & ice👀👀 it’s completely fine if not. This fic has just been living in my brain rent free.

Or could we hear any of your headcanons for Elodie or Enver, or both?💖💖

Me? Getting to yap about my fic? For free?? BET.

First of all, THANK YOU Love xx. It truly makes my day when I hear people love my little passion project 💕

And of course you can get a sneaky little sneak peek:

All his claiming of superiority and imputing the dregs of society he once belonged to with an inferiority that could have been his had ceased to exist as he stood in that ballroom, Archduke of Baldur's Gate and a wife at his side. Elodie had scarcely looked at him all night, her face frozen with a perfectly manicured smile and an impeccable veneer of politeness whenever someone congratulated them, though Enver could see it slipping in moments where she thought none would see. A gentle quiver of her lip, a solemn tear escaping from her eye – it was a foolish display of weakness. He would reprimand her for it, and Bane tutted impatiently in his mind for allowing the impudence, but Enver supposed the privacy of their bedroom would serve as a more suitable location, specifically since their actual wedding in the eyes of his Lord would still need to take place priorly, and he'd much rather have her cooperating.

The wife of Bane's Chosen wouldn't show defiance - not in the eyes of the congregation and their Lord.

She would kneel and submit - to Bane, to Enver, their protection, their will.

Enver knew in spite of her defiance, she was astute and would come to understand he acted in her best interest and he was not unnecessarily cruel but, in fact, benevolent. Enver was not Nubaldin, who had delighted in being heuristic about his newest methods of abuse. Raphael had bid his time until Nubaldin had at least beat him to sufficient submission, though he was no less vituperative when he finally did acknowledge him. And though the cambion had preferred to use his chthonian tongue, at times, he was incensed enough to take a swing himself. Enver was unlike either of those two – he did not love Elodie, and he never would. Love was futile, a powerful but perilous means of control, and he would never allow himself that, though he doubted it was even possible for him to love another. Love was a fantasy for fools and the unlucky, and Enver was neither. He would give her anything she could ever want if only she asked; trust, companionship, power, sex, the world - but he could not give her love.

"We should take our leave soon," he bent down, whispering in her ear, before returning his attention to Lord Shattershield and the wine goblet in his hand. He felt her tensing up beneath his hand, but he paid her little mind as his gaze swept over the crowds one final time.

The Liardon family, it seems, had invited what seemed like every proud patriar and affluent merchant of the Gate, the crowd an amalgamation of bohemian intellectuals, eclectic artisans, tenacious militants and gaudy devisees. He could see his own parents gabbing with Counsellor Florrick, Selise Liardon scarcely hanging on in her poor health, yet the woman smiled brightly at Lady Jannath and her substitute husband – an artist Enver had never heard of before. Her companions stood off to the side, their eyes betraying the fury they felt, and yet they stood quietly as they chatted amongst themselves before finally, Enver espied Duke Liardon, whose eyes were hardened, the man a light shade of pink as he drowned his sorrows in a goblet of Elverquisst and half-heartedly listened to Duke Porytr's monologue. Enver's victorious smirk only widened, the defeat in the Duke's eyes only adding to his ecstasy as he tightened his grip on Elodie in a mocking display, dismissing her squeak of protest as he relished in his victory.

He had won – well and truly won, and there were no two ways about it. Elodie Liardon – Gortash, he corrected himself – was eternally his. They would build the kingdom he had been promised, ascending to the rightful station of Bane's most worthy – his most faithful. In mere moments, she would submit herself to Bane with utterances and body, and Enver shivered in delight as he thought of her kneeling at his feet before they would lose each other in ecstasy. He was certain Bane would reward them well for each malevolent punishment his Dark Lord bestowed benevolent largesse if he was particularly pleased with his followers.

As for headcanons? Well, let’s see…

Enver is a bit of a glutton as a result of being starved as a child in the Hells. He also has a bit of a stomach as a result.

Elodie speaks several languages, such as Common, Chondathan, Elvish, Alzhedo and Illuskan. She’s also fairly proficient in several dialects and knows a little Drow. Enver, on the other hand, only knows Common, though he has a decent knowledge of Infernal due to his time in the Hells.

Elodie would be a Bard if she wasn’t a Sorcerer. She also feels more elven than human, despite being primarily raised by a human mother.

If he had been raised in a loving family, Enver would’ve been a Cleric of Gond whose inventions actually helped people/Baldur’s Gate.

This will be more important in upcoming chapters, but: Neither Elodie nor Enver want children, and both of them have their own reasons for that. Enver does, however, always follow Bane’s command, so he demands they have them anyway.

[amidala-skywalker012]

Padme Amidala x Fem Jedi! Reader.

Padme is a forbidden fruit, and one that you have desired for far too long, but you have to stick by the Jedi Code.

Cw: Possible Religous Themes? (The reader is keeping herself "pure") Kind of forceful if you have your eyes closed, sex, lesbian sex, fingering, public sex.

You knew that it was wrong. You knew that you should have said no when you were asked by the beautiful Senator if you would accompany her on her trip back to her beautiful home planet of Naboo. You watched her carefully from a distance, she gently ran her fingers through the many blades of soft grass that sat beneath her.

She had never looked so beautiful, though she had always and would forever look beautiful you knew now that this is where she was meant to be, on her home planet, peacefully living her life as whatever she wanted to be. You, since you had met her, had been pushing down your emotions for the woman because you knew it was shunned.

There were many things keeping you from her, mostly your own code. You were dedicated to it. You had never let your temptations persuade you this far. You wanted her. You wanted her to want you, but you knew it would never happen. "Come on!" Padme's beautiful brown eyes landed on yours. They were enticing, they captivated you, and you wanted them to never stop observing you. You wondered quietly to yourself as you carefully walked toward the brunette that pulled you in with her beauty, her intelligence, her soul, and everything else was beautiful.

Your lips were dry as you pulled in air from them, wondering why you had chosen to sit so close to her. You could smell her perfume and could feel her warmth, and you craved more. "You must be so warm in all of those clothes." Padme said casually. You wanted to nod because the sun of Naboo was hot, but you couldn't admit that, in fear of what she might suggest. You turned to what she was wearing, a light, airy, beautiful light purple dress, it wasn't something that she would normally wear for professional appearances, it was casual and you wondered if there was maybe someone she was wearing it for. "Answer me." Padme wasn't demanding too harshly, not yet anyway.

"Yes, I'm hot." You spoke the truth, another one of your codes, but you knew now that this would get you into some kind of predicament.

"Would you like to cool down?" Her tone was suggesting something, but you didn't know what, you needed to nod, because the heat was getting to you, you were sure that your cheeks were red and not just because of the sun. She smiled when you nodded, getting up quickly, brushing against you before she reached out her hand to you, and you took it, the touch had sent sensations through your body.

Padme and You walked for a little while, her hand still wrapped around yours you wondered where you were going until you saw a small pool of water in the distance. It was surrounded by pebbles, small and large, smooth and round.

Padme made her way to the edge of the grass and the beginning of the pebbles and began stripping. She pulled her beautiful purple dress off of her neck and let it slip down to her ankles. You turned your face away because she had no undergarments beneath her dress. "P-Padme.." You whispered, your cheeks burning pink.

"You don't expect to swim in all those clothes, do you?" She asked, turning around to face you, her fingers ghosting over your hips, caressing up your waist until she gets to your hands, pulling them from your face to let you look at her. Your eyes, against your will, shot down to her breasts, her pink nipples hard against the cool breeze, the round mounds of flesh that moved gently as she breathed.

"Padme- i-" She pressed her finger against your lip, having heard of your code before. She saw your chest heaving, deep breaths in and out.

"It's just a swim." She said innocently, pulling your robes off of your body and letting them fall. She got into the water, leaving you bare out in the open, completely exposed to anyone who might walk by. She waved you over, beckoning you to get in the water, and despite you knowing what was right, you got into the water.

It was cold but pleasant. Goosebumps shuddered through your body, and you bit down on your lip, your eyes still finding their way to Padme's breasts. She caught you this time, not like it was secretive last time, but she didn't acknowledge it before. "Do you want to touch them?" She asked you suddenly, your mouth going dry once again, you wanted to, you really wanted to, but knew you couldn't.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you watched Padme glide over to you, the water moving around her as she took your hands in hers and gently guided them to her breasts. "You like it, don't you?" You nodded again, squeezing them between your fingers. One of her hands let go of yours and gently make it's way down to your hip before she closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you gently at first. Testing the waters.

When she noticed your lack of hesitance. She kissed a little harder, pressing her body against yours, feeding off of the heat your body was producing. Your body was shaking already, you were terribly inexperienced as her small movements against your chest caused your pussy to trob and clench around nothing. It wasn't like you had never felt aroused before. Every other time, you were around Padme as well, but something about this was different. You were trembling, and the throbbing was no longer easy to ignore. You needed to soothe the ache but didn't know how.

Padme took notice of your flushed expression and the way your hips unconsciously rocked back and forth in the water, she knew what you needed which was why she slid her hand down to your cunt and gently caressed the small bundle of nerves. Soft circles were all it took for your knees to buckle, having to hold on tighter to Padme to keep yourself upright.

"P-Padme." You tried to pretend like you didn't want it but the two of you knew that you were lying to yourself, your body betrayed you because it knew you needed something your mind wasn't ready to accept.

"It's okay, dear, you can let go." It had been a mere 20 seconds since Padme had began rubbing your clit, but you were already coming undone, your slick coated her hands from underneath the water as she gently pushed two fingers up into you.

She softly spoke to you, whispering dirty things into your ear as she brushed her fingers against a spongey part inside of you that made your whole body feel fuzzy from the inside. Padme guided you to the shore, laying you down on your back and leaning over to latch her mouth around your clit, gently flicking it with her tounge as you moaned too loudly. You were embarrassed. You had never done something like this before. She knew that, but seeing it first hand was different. The way your virgin pussy pulsed beneath her tounge and the way your thighs threatened to close around her head. It was delicious. Seeing and tasting your arousal was becoming too much for the young senator. She moved her own hand down to her clit, rubbing careful circles to ensure that she wouldn't cum before you had, she knew she wouldn't have to wait long, judging by the arch of your back as your body tried running away from hers.

It was a quick moment, one minute you were being ruined by Padme's tounge and before you knew it your ears began ringing and your vision went white, the next thing you heard was the loud laughing of Padme her face covered by some unknown liquid that she carefully wiped from her face. "My goodness. That was quite exciting." She explained vaguely as your body felt hypersensitive to her touch as she gently rubbed soft circles into your thighs. "Let's do this again some other time, yeah?" She asked. She kissed your cheek as you nodded, your brain still not completely connected as you watched as she swam peacefully around the small lake.

[wheels-of-despair]

Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

{<-Previous} [The Feeling Is Mutual] {Next->}

Summary: Shopping for a wedding dress is so unbearable, you and Ralph decide to do something desperate. Words: 3k

You had no idea what sin you'd committed to deserve the punishment of shopping for wedding dresses with your mother and your future mother-in-law, but you certainly were sorry for it.

The Mothers sat and waited as shopgirl after shopgirl dressed you like a disgruntled doll, then when you came out to model it, they critiqued you like you weren't there. It became so insufferable, even Victoria had wandered off after store #3. You envied her.

"That neckline makes her shoulders look monstrous."

"Really? Is it 1860 again?

"Her bust is barely contained, she looks like a streetwalker!"

"That beading is so shoddy, it'll all pop off as soon as she sits down."

"That lace pattern is horribly outdated."

"Good heavens, what beast designed this?!"

"That makes her look as if… you're not with child already, are you?"

"That's a summer dress, it would leave far too much skin exposed for October."

"October?" you finally break from your catatonic state to question.

"Yes, dear, October," your mother says absentmindedly, picking through another rack of horrible white dresses.

"That's months away!"

Your mother turns. "Will you not be ready by October?"

"I was ready a month ago, we're not waiting that long!"

"It is the first available date for the reception hall we've chosen. Six months is a respectable engagement period. I assure you, you are waiting that long," she says with finality, turning back to the rack. "Get her out of that and into this," she hands an eyesore with puffed sleeves to the shopgirl.

You stomp back into the dressing room and fight to get out of your ruffled prison until the girl comes in to assist you. She takes the straightjacket you've just escaped from and puts it back on the hanger. By the time she turns around to present the next dress to you, you're pulling on the clothes you came in with.

"Miss?"

"Help me. I have to get out of here." The girl assists you with a sympathetic smile. When you're dressed in normal clothes again, she hands you your purse.

"Would you like me to distract them?" she whispers. You nearly cry in relief. "Stay here. I'll lead them to the front of the store to show them the display, then you slip out the back. Go down this hallway and take a right, the door is red, you can't miss it."

"I don't know how to thank you for this," you whisper back.

"By not letting them get to you. You looked beautiful in every single one of these dresses." You feel your eyes begin to well up with tears. It's the nicest thing anyone's said to you all day.

"Not to worry, miss, this happens far more than you'd expect. Just wait 'til you hear the voices fade, and make a run for it." You nod, and she winks and slips through the curtain.

"The young lady has expressed interest in the dress on display in the front window, did you happen to see the delicate detailing on your way in?" The old bats murmur. "If you'll come with me, please, this may be the one."

Five, four, three, two… you peek through the curtain and see them retreating. You bolt down the hallway, take a right, burst through the red door, and breathe in a glorious breath of fresh air.

Ralph. You need Ralph.

Ralph picked away at his ukulele absentmindedly, lying upside-down with his head hanging off the edge of the sofa. He was so unbelievably bored, he'd decided to write a song about how bored he was on the day you'd abandoned him to go dress shopping with The Mothers. He hoped it wasn't complete torture.

"Sir?"

"What, Langley?"

"The young--"

"Too late, I'm in, can't send me away now," you say with exasperation as you rush by Langley and flop down next to Ralph on the sofa. You look over at him with tired eyes, and he hands you his ukulele. After you take it from him and place it safely on the side table, he flips himself right-side up and sits next to you.

"That bad?"

You close your eyes and let yourself fall over, your head landing on his lap. This was new, but Ralph wasn't complaining. He rests a hand on your hip, waiting to hear about your day.

"I don't know what I did to deserve that."

"What happened?"

"Let's see… I tried on approximately two hundred dresses, each more hideous than the last. My mother called me a prostitute. Your mother said I looked pregnant. Oh, and we're not getting married 'til October. So I have several more months of shopping with those old hags to look forward to." You shift so you're looking up at him. "Ralphie, my love, would you please do something for me?"

"Anything," he says without hesitation.

"Beat me to death with your ukulele. Put me out of my misery."

He laughs and shakes his head, reaching for your hand.

"What was it you said about October?"

"They've booked a reception hall for October."

"October?"

"October."

"Half a year away."

"Half a year away," you confirm.

"Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," you scoff.

"I think we need to revisit our list of wedding demands. I heard my mother talking to one of her cousins on the telephone last night, and I get the impression the guest list has gotten out of hand again."

You groan.

"I'm starting to wish we'd run off and gotten married last time they went wild."

"That offer is still on the table."

The wheels in your brain begin to turn. You sit up and turn to Ralph. "What if…"

They knew exactly where you were going.

The Mothers showed up at Ralph's house half an hour after you did, both looking like they were on the verge of violence.

They rounded on you at once.

"Never, in all my days--"

"I have never met such an ungrateful child--"

"Did you give any thought to how that would make us look?"

Ralph stood up and stepped in front of you.

"Ladies. This week has been stressful for all of us. My bride-to-be and I have decided that we need a break from wedding-planning."

"But we've only just sta--"

"Who put you in ch--"

"Ladies! We are all going to take a break, and meet back here on Sunday evening to discuss everything calmly. We are going to formulate a plan, revisit some restrictions, and get everything in order. Together. As a family."

"Fine," your mother says. "Let's go."

"Ralph and I have one more wedding-related thing to finish before our respite. I'll be along by dinnertime." Your mother huffs and walks out without saying another word. Ralph's mother made a crack about her manners before retreating up the stairs.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks.

"Absolutely, I am." you say with certainty.

On Sunday evening, as Nancy was helping you fix your hair before you left for Ralph's, a knock at the door made you jump so high that you nearly knocked over everything on your vanity table.

"Come in?"

Your father stepped into the room with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Nancy, will you give us a moment?" Without meeting your eye, she scurried away. He closed the door behind her.

"It's happening tonight, isn't it?"

"What's happening tonight?" you asked innocently. He narrowed his eyes and waited expectantly. It didn't take long for you to break.

"It's happening tonight."

"Your mother is not going to be happy."

"Well, I am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"This is what you want?"

"Yes."

"He's what you want?"

"Yes."

He smiles. "Then what can I do to help?"

A flood of relief washes over you, and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Check on Ralph when we get there? Victoria's going to drag me upstairs to 'look at her new coat' and help me get dressed. But Ralph probably won't have anyone but their creepy old butler to make sure he's alright."

"And he wants this too?"

"Of course he does." You chuckle. "We almost ran off and got hitched the night of The Incident. We thought this would be a decent compromise. Ralph and I get each other, our mothers get a real wedding instead of a postcard announcing we've eloped, you save money, I don't commit matricide just yet. Less stress for everyone!"

He chuckles. "Well, then. Do you have your something old, something new?"

"Not quite. I was going to ask Victoria to help me fill in the blanks."

"Keep getting ready, I'll be back."

Your father returns a moment later.

"Turn," he orders, coming to stand behind you. He clasps an ornate sapphire necklace around your neck. You reach up to touch it.

"Your great-grandmother received this as a wedding present. I'm not sure of the rules, but I think this can count as both old and blue."

As promised, Victoria whisked you upstairs the second you stepped inside. She could've done it without the staged wink, but your mother didn't seem surprised at her theatrics.

She brought you to her bedroom, where the dress you'd acquired a few days prior lay on the bed. The day after the shopping disaster, you'd popped back into Bridal Shop #3 to thank your accomplice with a nice commission on a simple but lovely dress the old bats hadn't even considered, while Ralph purchased a new tuxedo nearby.

"Well, go on! I'm devastated that you and Ralph are giving up the chance for the wedding of the century. Are you sure you won't reconsider? There's still time!" You shake your head as you change. Victoria finishes her makeup while you dress.

"Alright. How does it look?"

Victoria spins around and smiles. "Wondrous! Now come here and let me do your makeup!"

"But I already…" Victoria scrunches her nose and shakes her head, getting up and gesturing to the stool she just vacated. You sit obediently and wait for your soon-to-be sister-in-law to work her magic. As she swipes brush after brush across your face, you remember what you were supposed to ask her.

"Victoria, do you have something I can borrow? I already have the old, new, and blue."

"Of course!" Victoria swipes one last brush across your nose and begins digging through a heaping jewelry box.

"What are your other things?"

"My great-grandmother's necklace is both old and blue, and our maid gave me a new handkerchief."

"You cannot be serious."

You give her a confused look, not sure what the problem was.

"A handkerchief? From the maid? Really?"

"She's a good friend. She embroidered it with my favorite flowers."

"Typical. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told, and feel Victoria smoothing your hair. A chemical smell with a slight hint of something floral invades your nostrils. You assume it's some sort of product to keep it in place. She steps away while it dries, and you hear her rifling through her wardrobe. When she returns, you feel a light, odd weight settle around the top of your head.

"Alright, you can open your eyes."

Victoria has placed a silver headband, accented with sapphires, around your head. It matched your necklace perfectly.

"It caught my eye in a window when we were dress shopping, and I had to have it. I forgot about it until now. What do you think?"

You swallow hard and nod at Victoria's reflection in the mirror. It's perfect. After all the secrecy and the trauma of preparing for this wedding, things are finally starting to line up perfectly.

"Don't you dare cry and ruin that makeup!"

You laugh and look up, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay.

"Thank you, Victoria." you say in a daze, staring at the unfamiliar creature in the mirror.

"You're welcome, darling! Let me go see if Ralph is ready, then we'll go down and have our secret wedding!"

"Ralph? Are you decent?"

"Yes."

Victoria enters Ralph's bedroom to find him pacing.

"Ralph, if you keep that up, you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

"Is she ready? Is she alright? Is she getting cold feet?" Ralph had been left alone with his thoughts for too long, and had begun to spiral.

"She's fine, you silly boy. She's dressed, properly painted and accessorized for the first time in her life, and ready to get married. Are you?"

Before Ralph can answer, there's a knock at the door.

Victoria opens it to reveal your father.

"Might I have a moment alone with the groom?" he asks. Victoria shrugs and exits the room.

This is it. Ralph Penbury is done for. The man has decided that he's not good enough, he can't marry the love of his life, it's probably for the best, he'll make a terrible husband, he doesn't know how to do anything, they're rushing into this, they're being young and foolish--

"Are you alright, son?"

Ralph jumps when the man speaks, his train of destructive thoughts derailed.

"It's normal to be nervous before your wedding. It'll pass."

Ralph lets out a shaky breath.

"My daughter asked me to come check on you."

"She did?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Anyone can see that she's mad about you."

A dazed, lopsided smile appears on Ralph's face. The older man laughs.

"I can see that the feeling is mutual. Are you ready for this, Ralph?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go on down. I'll get her, and we'll meet you out back."

"Are you angry?" Ralph blurts out, already regretting giving your father an opening to put a stop to this.

"Angry about what?"

"Today. Doing this as a surprise."

"I think it's the merciful choice. You saw how frazzled my daughter was after two weeks of wedding planning. Do you think she could have survived six months?"

Ralph grins, feeling a great sense of relief. This was the right thing. He still had your father's approval. The love of his life was just a few rooms away, getting ready to take his hand in marriage and officially become his forever. This truly was Ralph Penbury's last day as a single man. He couldn't believe his luck.

"Are you ready?"

You're vaguely aware of your father's voice joining the hundred panicked ones in your head. You see him approach in the mirror, but don't begin to snap out of your daze until you feel the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

"I've just been to check on Ralph." You tilt your head carefully to look at him, mindful of the silver headband you've been staring at for several minutes. "He's alright. He's meeting us outside. Unless you'd like to make a break for it?"

You chuckle, feeling your anxiety lift. "No. I'm ready."

You check your reflection in Victoria's mirror one last time, then stand. "I'm ready," you repeat, more confident this time. Your father extends his arm, and you cling to him as you exit the room, descend the stairs, and walk toward the back door.

Victoria is waiting there for you, holding a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. She hands it to you, fusses over a stray hair, then flashes you her hundred-watt smile.

"Let's go, soon-to-be sister-in-law!"

Normally, this statement would send a chill down your spine, but it doesn't faze you. Not today.

The doors open, and Victoria leads the way down the steps and into the back yard.

You can see your mothers engaged in a heated discussion at a small table in the distance, having been lured outside with the promise of tea and more wedding planning. You smirk, knowing they'd both been had.

Victoria had suggested that her mother visit a new "wellness center" for a few days, to center herself after that bout of disastrous dress shopping. Which meant that you and Ralph had the run of the Penbury property. The lawn had been freshly trimmed, and the garden path and the trees had been lined with fairy lights. There hadn't been enough time to invite any family members from outside of town - both your favorite aunt and Ralph's favorite uncle lived too far away for a last-second trip - so your guest list was shorter than your mother's fuse. In attendance were your parents, Ralph's mother, Victoria, assorted household staff, the necessary reverend, and a photographer friend of Victoria's.

Your dear Nancy, who had been essential in both keeping your secrets and keeping you calm for the last few days, would discover just after you'd left that you'd "forgotten your purse".

(That was the story, if your mother questioned her presence. One of Ralph's maids would bring her down to the garden to "deliver it" after your mother was either focused on the ceremony or spurting blood from neck where her head had exploded.)

It had all come together quite nicely. Everything is simple, quiet, and intimate - it's the closest you could get to recreating the atmosphere of your favorite place in the world without alerting others of its existence. You couldn't have asked for nicer weather. You take in the freshly landscaped garden as you walk with your father, inhaling the scent of sweet spring flowers and admiring the magical glow of the fairy lights, but lose sight of everything when Ralph steps into view.

He stands under a flower-covered arbor, next to the reverend. Even from this distance, you can see him vibrating with excitement. When you get close enough to lock eyes with the love of your life, everything else fades into the background.

There is only you, and Ralph, and eventually, a pair of "I Do's" and a kiss that makes you forget your name.

[possiblylisle]

Uncommon Face: Part One

The land-carrier shuddered and groaned, voicing its effort as it rolled over the rocky landscape. The low muttering of the other passengers was almost completely cloaked by the giant vehicle’s sounds.

The others sat at the compartment’s front, their bald heads bent low toward each other as they sat in a small semi-circle. They murmured and muttered, their tiny, black bead eyes occasionally glancing toward the back of the carriage where she sat alone.

She could barely understand some of what they were saying; she was still learning the language after all and the carrier’s loudness didn’t help much in her effort to understand.

The one who had found her wasn't with the others in the carriage. He was someplace else, a different carrier if she had to guess. She wished that he had chosen to stay with her for the trip. Even if she barely knew him and his presence wouldn't do anything to reduce the whispers and suspicious glances, having someone she knew would still have been preferable to keep her company.

Maybe they wouldn't stare as much, she thought, if he was with her. If she was accompanied by another Toxe, then maybe his fellows wouldn't be as suspicious. Or, she recognized, their suspicion would just be drawn to him. It was strange to see a human in Federation space, especially a lone human. They'd think he was an enemy of the state, a traitor to their governance. It was better if he wasn't there, she recognized, even if she really wanted him to comfort her.

The carrier shuddered and lurched. The Toxe at the carriage's front reach up, grabbing hand rails that ran along the roof. She didn't try to copy them. She knew the carrier wasn't made for someone as small as her. The only way she could reach the rail was if she stood up on the bench, and that would only draw more unwanted attention. Instead, she slipped off the carriage's bench and sat on the floor, pressing her back against the long seat. She stretched out her legs and tried to make them reach the edge of the other bench that ran along the carriage's left side. She did not reach. Expected, she thought.

She sat up more, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping the cloth of her cloak around them. Resting her head on her knees, she tried to focus on the sound of the Toxe's voices, listening to their hushed pronunciations and doing her best to understand.

"We cannot... this is for the... is he... the law will..."

It wasn't enough. The carrier was too loud, their voice's too low, and her vocabulary was too small. She wasn't even sure they were speaking the same dialect that she had been studying in school. The chances that they were speaking exactly what she had studied were low. The Toxe were an old people, their civilization so old that they had begun colonizing space when humanity was just learning that they needed to wash their hands. Any civilization that old and that widespread was bound to have thousands of dialects with enough divergence to create confusion. Their higher government's enforcement of a standardized language meant nothing when there were so many people that it had to be enforced upon.

The carrier lurched again and its rumbling disappeared. The Toxe at the end of the carriage stood, their bodies standing at least thirty centimeters higher on average than any human.

She glanced over at them, her head still resting against her knees. They didn't move very far from where they had been sitting. Some were looking at her, their eyes questioning. Or, at least, she thought so. Reading an alien's face was hard, even if their structure was uncannily close to hers. But she knew that the differences they had caused centuries of difference in the possible meanings of their expressions. With no nose except for two small nostrils and two tiny black beads for eyes, they were different enough to confuse her.

They still didn't move. Even with the difference in expressions, she could understand discomfort and awkwardness well enough to know that they wanted her to leave the carriage first. They were scared, she realized, they didn't want to walk past the weird alien that had come to their caravan with one of their own.

The door at the end of the carriage creaked open and she turned her head to watch. The heavy, windowed doors swiveled on their hinges and came to a rest. Standing in the opening was another Toxe, wearing a pair of polarized goggles and a loose, ragged bandana over his head.

He motioned for her to come toward him with one large, four-fingered hand. She pushed herself up from the floor and wrapped the cloth of her cloak tight around her torso.

"Are you..." he paused searching for simple words he knew she would understand. "Are you well?"

"Yes. Thank you. Are you well, Dau?"

"I am, Cody. Let us move. We have reached a settlement."

He offered her a hand and she took it. He guided her down from the tall carriage and onto the rough sand. She squinted against the harsh light, looking all around. The other carriers in the caravan were unloading their passengers while the ones carrying supplies began to have their straps undone and their cargo negotiated.

Weaving amongst the carriers were hundreds of Toxe, many of whom hadn't noticed her yet, but that was only a matter of time. She squeezed Dau's hand and looked up at him.

"You will be fine, sister. So long as I am here to advocate for you."

Tag List:

@capnmachete @leahnardo-da-veggie @tamiveldura @lorifragolina @liminalgoddessworld @humbleartspawn @humbleaquaspawn