#I use ‘‘bad boy’’ in HEAVY air quotes because. well that’s just not the kind of antagonist/character he is

[corellianhounds]

I guess my point about Crosshair likely being a rule-follower as a kid was that I think people should look into more than just stock character traits they’re subconsciously applying based on characters from other media who might have similar roles in the narrative but aren’t actually the same person. I think they’d find better/more accurate characterizations and depth that would end up making their derivative work stronger and more creative. The same character trait can be applied to multiple different character types and still make them different when combined with their other traits. It’s like using the same ingredient in different dishes for a different flavor profile.

Crosshair being an initial antagonist and the ‘‘bad boy’’ (a stock character type he distinctly isn’t btw) of the group doesn’t automatically make him a rebellious tortured soul as a kid. What happens when you work backwards from a canonically lawful neutral/evil character instead of an imagined chaotic good character based on an amalgamation of other bad guys turned good? People with his abrasive personality aren’t all the product of a cool, defiant, plucky rebellious childhood where they were punished for their difficult personality (however you interpret that) or for acting out. Not every character is Zuko.

Crosshair’s a soldier brought up in a military family who was designed to be/told he was special, who ended up ACTUALLY being uniquely gifted in his area of expertise, who believes in law and order because that’s what a good soldier (the thing he literally exists to be) does and this law and order is what life and structure has always operated from. You do what you’re told because you follow the chain of command because you’re part of something bigger that ALSO happens to be the majority opinion/authority at work in a war you’ve been fighting for three years.

You know what Crosshair was post-Order 66? He was an MP. He voluntarily became a military cop. He was also given jurisdiction and orders to be judge, jury, and executioner against people he believed betrayed what they knew to be the law. He executed civilians in the name of a fascist empire. To him there needed to be consequences for (perceived) treason, no questions asked.

And guess what? Forcing that character to go through a grueling and significant character arc is a lot more dynamic to watch than somebody who was only like that as an adult because he had a tragic past being mistreated as a kid for acting out. I’m not saying the clones had a GOOD childhood or upbringing, they WERE specifically created to be unnecessary cannon fodder and were technically slaves/“government property” and they were brain-washed to an extent, but this specific experience— that of coming from a rebellious childhood where he was beaten down and forced to behave— is one I see applied to him about 95% of the time when it just doesn’t quite add up that way to me.

Isn’t it more interesting to see someone who always followed the rules, who always did the ‘‘right’’ thing and excelled at following orders without question… start to question things? Isn’t it more compelling to see somebody lose faith in everything they thought they knew and be forced to go through awful and tragic circumstances outside of his control that are the specific result of the structure he relied on turning its back on him and everyone like him? To find out he’s just as meaningless to them as a regular clone was, that he really never did mean anything to the powers that be? That he was always considered expendable and replaceable? That his death would be inconsequential to them, now that they’ve moved on to other interests?

That creates genuine inner and outer conflict, and he’s not immediately rewarded when he starts to change, which is a good thing because it means that the gradual change is a solid one based on choices he’s going to stick to, not just abandon when the going gets tough. Crosshair was a legitimately bad person, but he’s also more complicated than a lot of children’s shows get into with character development, and then he starts to shift. They say leopards can’t change their spots, but one of the defining characteristics of us as humans is our adaptability and ability to make choices contrary to what we were like before. That’s one of the biggest themes of Star Wars.

So… Yeah. There’s more than one way to write a bad person and you don’t have to justify them or make them sympathetic with a stereotypical disobedient or rebellious youth that had to be forced into the mold he exhibits as an adult. You don’t have to be a Martin Prince-esque hall monitor and goody-two-shoes to be somebody who did what they were told when they were told. Sometimes someone is just a soldier.

—

And listen I’m aware fic and art is a hobby for most, we’re not getting paid for this and I’m not demanding to be catered to, nobody owes me anything, it’d just be nice to see more of the actual meat of a character and not have to make what I want to see myself so much of the time

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

-----------------

May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait 

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much? 

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now? 

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you. 

And he wanted to make it up to you. 

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier. 

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 

He kissed your hand again. 

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now. 

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

[pythors-pandemic]

the big list of ninjago quotes

on my most recent rewatch, I wrote down any and all lines I enjoyed and for no reason other than @ninja-go-to-therapy was interested in seeing the list, I’m posting them. side note: a lot of these I wrote down simply because of the voice acting, not necessarily the words themselves. with that, here are 279 ninjago quotes

Season 1

“we’re saving a girl?! is she hot?”

“let’s chop sucky this lemonade stand”

“if i see one girl in here, i’m gonna go ballistic”

“uh.. is that wrecking ball staring at me?”

“this is not the time to be cryptic”

“how am i supposed to strike fear in this?! it’s pink!”

“it’s a magic floating rope”

“great observation, mr roboto”

“zane, like a machine. don’t change a thing”

“perhaps if you try the phrase ‘fire DORK’ maybe it might work”

“oh great. just what i like: fighting armed deadly snakes in a highly combustible environment about to BLOW UP!”

“haha, this is heavy and all, but what ever happened to the FANGBLADE?!”

“i mean at least give me a decent mustache” 

“get ready to get kai’ed!”

“woah grease ball! how about warn us before doing that!”

“ninja recover!”

“what?! you try fighting up here!”

“all that action, it makes you so thirsty”

“we’re so HOOPED!”

Season 2

“i can make a little extra if i do the human piñata” 

“it’s a bad boy thing”

“oh that is just so evil”

“why do i always get tied up?”

“this is bad! this is so bad on SO MANY LEVELS!!”

“it makes me feel young, deal with it”

“hey McNasty, i thought ninja were on your menu”

“this does not compute” *shorts out*

“ I believe a big ut oh is in order”

“and nya will never fall head over heels for jay!”

“NO MATTER WHAT YOU NEED TO CONVINCE HIM TO GO WITH YOU!”

“easy big guy! maybe this is a sign you need to lose a few pounds!”

“HEY! OPEN THE WINDOW! LET ME IN”

“what’s my power?” “uhh. hot air?”

“good riddance vampire fish!”

“jay, how did you ever become a ninja? seriously!”

“wrong again, mr. empty-head”

“zane. no”

Season 3

“my name was clearly on it!” “i didn’t see motor mouth on it!”

“who you callin ‘pedestrian’?” 

“yeah well i’m super hooped and i haven’t brushed my teeth in a week!!”

“it almost hit my mother”

“i know it’s a clue, zap trap”

“these toasters never know when to quit!”

“just testing the rules. first rule: cole’s a crybaby!”

“i can’t do it! i can’t do it! I CANT DO IT!!”

“I’m kind of a.. secret agent. *gasps* oops! guess it’s not a secret anymore”

“relax, when have i ever been careless”

“this car is worth far more than you”

“like all boys, you can be reprogrammed”

“his wisdom takes a while to set in. WE DONT HAVE A WHILE!”

“i can’t wait to see the expressions in the faces of those metal chrome domes” “they’re nindroids nimrod, they don’t have expressions”

“i owe you one” “okay, stay away from nya” “maybe a different one”

“it’s a BUG >:(“

“BAD GLOWY! BAD!”

Season 4

“i’m a ninja, and you are wearing makeup”

“fire will melt her icy heart”

“i feel guilt! these are bad feelings”

“see what this island is doing to me?! ITS CORRUPTING ME!”

“jay, would you stopmakingnoise?!”

“you just had to leave me hanging, huh romeo”

“mine are made of rock, what a crock >:(“

“ooo looks like kai’s got the hots for her”

“kai’s heart is on fire! kai’s heart is on fire! kai’s heart is on fire!”

“stop licking your tattoos”

“eat dirt, bluebell!”

“pixel?! you got a girl stuck in your head??”

“aahugh! my leg! get kai off me!!”

“just tell me one thing. was it his idea to make me fall for you, or yours? because it worked”

“you saved me for a reason. and you know i’m far to fetchy to resist ;)”

“curse this fraudulent furniture”

“everything’s a weapon in the big house!” * proceeds to brush enemies teeth*

“when people try to bust out of jail, they do it quietly, not LITERALLY”

“that’s one way to cool off a hot head!”

Season 5

“JUST TAKE THE FLYER!”

“woah! i think he just broke the sound barrier”

“yeah i know we’re terrible students!”

“woah, lloyds gone through puberty”

“hey! no one calls me pathetic!”

“you hear that kai?! we’re gonna fly!”

“why is it when lloyds gone, we always look to kai? we should be following zane”

“he turned my wolloper into a ghost! no one turns my wolloper into a ghost!!”

“no we don’t pinch! we don’t even have pockets!!”

“sure we can’t understand zane, but could we ever?”

“incase you haven’t noticed, there’s flying weapons trying to slide and dice us!”

“what is it?! what’s down there??? oh wait! don’t tell me! i don’t wanna know!”

“why would you touch the scary picture, jay? “i didn’t know it would do that, cole!”

“well, go face him, jay” “arugh! you go face him!”

“ohh i’m such a dummy”

“be the key, cole. BE THE KEY!”

“WHY DO I GET THE UNCONTROLLABLE SLEAD!!”

“you again >:(“ “you say that as if it’s a bad thing”

“you’d fight someone unarmed?” “that’s a good question, yes”

“ hate to spoil what’s next, but just because you’re in my friends body, watch out!”

“*snorts* i’m sorry, he said buttheads”

“i bet that’s what all nindroids say” “if you’re implying that smell came from me-“

“WHY ARENT WE LISTENING TO THE CLUE?!”

“STAY TOGETHER? IM JUST TRYING TO STAY IN ONE PIECE”

“hey guys, guess what?! i get an AWESOME EYEPATCH!”

“all you ninja do is talk, blah blah blah”

“AHH HES ATTACKING AN UNARMED MAN!”

“we’re not stalling! we’re thinking! he’s totally right, i’m stalling”

“augh this guy really chaps my hide”

“ughh! i hate unbeatable creatures!”

“let me handle the blowhard”

Season 6

“my hair is sick!”

“my followers have needs too”

“excuse me, which fruit is black?!” “uh, blackberries?” “shut it, jay” >:(

“it wasn’t me, dad! IT WASNT ME!”

“statistically speaking, your witty banter only gets us into more trouble”

“yeah but are you the master of kablewy”

“and we’re shuffling, we’re shuffling”

“working for a crime boss isn’t a very reliable career choice”

“YOU ATE OUR ONLY WAY OUT?!!”

“not now, sprocketarm”

“gosh why are you pirates so long winded!”

“i told you to hurry up!” “would you be quiet and run!”

“you have to act as our lightning rod!”

“the only thing i can see is your stupid hand, jay”

“AHHH HAAH ITS SO BIG!!”

“if i get out of here, i’m gonna bite YOU!”

“sorry for the delay, i’ve never had to milk the face of a giant spider before!”

“sorry pal, i don’t know who this lost love of yours is, but she ain’t nya”

“we’ll all be hooped if he has infinite wishes”

“you got what you wished for boulder brain!”

“we really need to start LISTENING TO ME!”

“said from the heart?! hearts don’t talk!”

“the world is falling apart and he’s eating soup!”

Season 7

“I DONT KNOW BUT ITS LOUD!”

“self diagnostic indicates negative” *jay hits him* “how about now?” “…no”

“leftie, rightie, nice to meet you. also, DO BETTER!”

“plate! show! clipboard!”

“we have a plan— go kick some butt”

“why am i so good? it’s a curse really”

“you can do this, you can do this. I CANT DO THIS IM TOO FREAKED!”

“you call this stabilizing?!” “i’m trying!” “try harder!!”

“let’s run straight at eachother and see if this will slow us down before we collide!” *all laugh*

“faster, jay!” “you’re so slow, cole!”

“sounds like someone’s earned his blackbelt in being a wet blanket”

“maybe they didn’t hear it!” *a second later* “no, they did”

“bring it on you vermillion doof!”

“yeah! that’s what i’m talking about! vermillion done! workers saved! ninja in the swamp!!”

“no matter how many times you watch those suckers hatch, it’s always gross”

“MOVE YOUR BUTT, ZANE!”

“did you just speak?” “no… okay that time i did”

“not just you you, young you too wu”

Season 8

“i could kiss ya, pix!” “i do not think zane would approve”

“cole, master of earth. and this is jay, master of blabber” “lightning”

“i told you not to introduce yourself as the master of earth, no one knows what that means”

“no you boldhead”

“who likes ice cream? i do!”

“it is nice to have a pooper at the party”

“they’re coles” “they’re BLUE!” “you’re lucky they’re not yellow”

“she’s also creepy” “par for the course in a mystical tea shop, jay”

“what sort of power does the green ninja have?” “it’s some kind of energy or green light. i don’t know, like all our elemental powers rolled into one”

“zane! knock me out! do something!”

“you lied? mystake why would you do that? i thought we were friends :(“

“it’s me zane, cole? or should i say my alias, rocky dangerbuff” 

“what is cole doing?!” “i don’t know but please tell me someone is recording”

“haha! come here you little sucker”

“totally called it!” “you did not” “did to!”

“he did not just!” “he just did!”

“at least cole jr’s fine, so we can give the diapers to jay!”

“who knows! he’s a living fortune cookie. everything he does is a puzzle meant to TORTURE US!”

“i’ve got an itch, you mind coming over here to scratch it ;)”

“this can end one of two ways, either you can hand the mask over peacefully” “i don’t even have to know the rest of the choices, i like that one” “or we’re gonna get all ninja up on you” “what does that even mean?” “i don’t know. i was improvising”

“don’t make me zap you!” *zaps him*

“did you just tell yourself to hold on..?”

“if that’s lord garmadon, i’m lord of the jig” “then you better start jigging”

“and kai knows bad ideas, he’s full of them!”

“to go” “to gooo?” *nodds* “to go”

“i’m sorry, we totally should’ve knocked”

“my brother is coming.” “how do you know?” “i know”

Season 9

“foil, i found foil!!!”

“you not freaking out, is freaking ME OUT” 

“kai baby, it’s much easier coping with life’s problems when you let go of hope!”

“yeah, he’s totally lost it” “no, i’ve totally found it”

“pfft that’s rich, now we’re teaching him lessons he taught us!”

“quit messing with my tunes, man”

“that was a learning experience”

“so, watcha doing, jay?” “it’s my new video game console, i built it myself”

“ooo are we playing hide and seek?”

“who’s diapers are those?” “uh, they’re jay’s— tell them jay” “oh.. i have a weak bladder”

“okie dokie, off we go”

“this isn’t good, jay. this is bad”

“oh boy. i believe jay’s mental state has made him useless to our plight”

“i borrowed it earlier, just like how you borrowed my wisdom”

“can this get any better!” “can you get anymore nuts!”

“and here i thought we were at rock bottom,” *while laughing* “this is so much worse”

“if i’m going out, i’m going out with bells on”

“how do we get out of here alive?!” “the sooner you realize we can’t, the more fun it’ll be”

“i do not believe that is possible…” “i was being scarcastic” 

“we did it! we did it! we did it!”

“then stay at home, tinsil toes”

“tell me you have a plan” “it’s in the works” “he doesn’t have a plan”

“easier to grow a little than to lose a lot”

“a teenager?! now we’re in for it”

“how do we know one of them isn’t already pretending to be ONE OF US?!” “oh zip it, jay”

“you know what you need? confidence” “you mean cocky, like you?”

“haha! we should teach him how to drive next”

“listen to me you silly master of dunce!”

“could you pass a roasted lizard stick up here?! i’m kind of hungry too!”

“did i… did i do that right? a joke?”

“that’s not fair you bullied them!”

“oh my gosh! he just grew a mustache!”

“THEY ARE GONNA EAT US!”

“if you are gonna eat us, eat him first he’s full of cake!” “am not!”

“i know, the commute is terrible”

Season 10

“i find the term ‘freak out’ inadequate and imprecise”

“i can’t believe i have to babysit my own father”

“you gotta just do it, jay! it’s like ripping off an old bandaid, the sooner you get it over with, the better” “uhm did you just compare nya to an old bandage?” “way to go, cole. way to take the romance out of it”

“ha! fat chance”

“i wouldn’t trust you with a… a… a…” “a pillow! what.. it’s the least threatening thing i could think of”

“oh c’mon that was awesome!” “it was adequate!” 

“we thought we lost you, you jerk!”

“we really need to talk about your sense of timing, jay”

Season 11

“get his legs! hold him!” “those are MY legs!!”

“i looked it in the eye!”

“yeah of all the bad ideas i’ve heard, and i’ve heard a few, looking at you kai, this takes the cake”

“guys guys, you’re both to valuable to risk. it should be someone expendable, like jay.”

“cole! you could’ve smashed kai!”

“you say that like i should be totally cool running into a long deceased explorer” 

“i think i swallowed my teeth”

“worst parking spot ever”

“that would save us hours and hours of slow boring back breaking work. oh well, we’ll just have to do it the slow boring back breaking way”

“speaking of slow, where’s kai?”

“fire maker has more miracles”

“you made me go back to the bounty for the travelers tea and it fell of a cliff!”

“pull me up! quick!” “i can’t! you’re too heavy!” “what are you trying to say!?”

“nya, whatever you’re doing DO IT FASTER!”

Season 12

“take that! obsolete file formats!”

“use the VCRs!” “what’s a VCR?”

“yeah, who would know a guy super into stealing things has a lot of stuff”

“not again! cant i go like two seconds without losing my elemental power?!”

“hey guys, do you know who’s totally lame? unagami that’s who!”

“anyone who likes jay that much can’t be normal”

“ninja vs bushes!”

“great! now i can see what i’m looking at, and it’s even worse”

“how do you get a ninja to cross the road? by saying ninja go!”

“that was a terrible joke” “you got a better one?!”

“keep those shoulders back! find your center!”

“lead with your hips!”

“nobody puts cole in the corner!”

“it was time for these two gumshoes to beat feet”

“she had saved my nindroid bacon”

“you are beginning to get on my nerve circuits”

“my heart did not reveal that! every part of me is annoyed!”

“is the mechanic doing your detective thing too? this is just weird!”

“if only this were a pizza joint. pizza would never betray be like this!”

Season 13

“it’s like… like, totally super cool!”

“pfft, that’s gotta be made up” 

“AHHH NOT MADE UP NOT MADE UP NOT MADE UP!!!!”

“it’s not that we don’t believe you…” “i don’t believe him :)”

“hey buddy! hey there. name’s cole, ninja. i heard there was some jerk down here, chaining people up, making them work. you seen any jerks around?”

“baushau it’s in mouth it’s in mouth babbbuuhwv i think i’m gonna barf”

“we aren’t skeletons! i mean we have skeletons obviously, but there’s so much more to us. like veins and organs and stuff” “i have none of those things”

“my first notion as chancellor is for everyone to stop THROWING STUFF AT ME!”

“oh great! now i’m hanging from a skeleton who’s hanging from a root! and i’m talking to myself again”

“don’t think about how gross this is, don’t think about how gross this is. ohuwha i’m thinking about it. i’m thinking about it!”

“you!” “shall!” “not!” “be granted permission to traverse beyond this point!”

“eat my dust!”

“i’m looking at the skull, it’s not as ugly”

Season 14

“zippy!! let’s call him zippy!”

“how can i be a gift?” “yeah? who would want jay?” “uhm… me?”

“we’re friends remember? i’m just a jay”

“i happen to think i am quite valuable thank you very much!”

“you’re gonna see the inside of a jail cell for this, ronin”

Season 15

“this is somewhat troubling”

“we’re being haunted by the ghost of some butler! probably named ducklesworth or something”

“jay honey, that reminds me. i need to teach you how to bleach your boxer shorts”

“zane, you don’t require a breathing device.” “yes, but i like how it completes my attire”

“THIS IS NO WAY TO TREAT A TOURIST!”

“The citizens of bubbletubbuleopolis will not be pleased!! this will affect your tourism!”

“your chair does have a seatbelt, jay”

“cake is usually the answer to everything!”

“that is what i just said! why are you repeating me?!”

“yeah! take that you big worm!”

“SHE THINKS IM A CHEW TOY!!”

“think, what would zane do? actually no. think, what would kai do?”

so yeah i’m deeply in love with this show

[nitewrighter]

for the teen Titans ficlet thing, I don’t suppose you could do “there was only one bed” for robin and starfire?

*slams fist down on table* STARFIRE IS THE BIG SPOON.

----

"I think you are overacting," Starfire said, her arms folded across her garish tye-dyed nightshirt.

"Overreacting," Robin corrected, adjusting the waistband on his sweats as he stepped out of the bathroom, "And--I'm not. I've slept in lean-tos in the Alaskan hinterland and in literal trees in the Virunga mountains. I can handle a hotel floor."

Starfire scoffed. "You are being ridiculous! It is a bed! There is room for two! Plenty of my people sleep in Tesh'li!"

"Er..." Robin gave her a blank look and Starfire seemed to realize that that word hadn't translated over.

"Uhm..." Starfire's brow furrowed for a few seconds as she struggled for the closest english equivalent, "Tesh'li are like... clusters? P-piles? It is very common for families."

"...Tamaraneans sleep in piles?" Robin's brow crinkled at the mental image.

" Tesh'li. 'Piles' implies gravity is a strong factor in the composition of bodies," said Starfire.

"...right, floating..." Robin said quietly.

"The whole team had a big Tesh'li in that cave when we had that mission in Markovia!" Starfire said, clearly frustrated, "Beast Boy turned into a grizzly bear and Cyborg turned off his cooling systems to share body heat! You and Raven even shared your capes! Why is this worse? Am I worse?"

"It's not worse--I mean obviously you're not worse-- it's just---when it's just two people--" Robin drew in a tense breath through his teeth before slumping his shoulders, defeated. "It's like... an earth... thing."

"I am aware that earth has many things," said Starfire, clearly not satisfied with this answer.

Robin sighed.

"Oh!" Starfire perked up, "It is one of your earth intimacy hangups! Because large portions of your population spent several centuries convincing yourselves that your natural instinct to be close and reproduce were affronts to your creator deities! And that still lingers in your cultural practices!"

"Uh..." Robin didn't really have a response to that.

"I have been reading the Earth histories," said Starfire, a little smugly.

"That's great," said Robin, meekly.

“Well it is not like any of ‘the funny business’ will be happening,” said Starfire, using the finger quotes around the words ‘funny business.’ Robin really regretted letting Beast Boy teach her how to make air quotes with her fingers and that she had only been getting better at figuring out when to use them. “But I will respect your cultural practice and let you sleep on the floor, even though that is dumb and a little gross and you will wake up with the aching back.”

"You sure are a diplomat, huh?" said Robin, drily.

“Mm-hmm!” Starfire nodded.

This was supposed to be a victory in the argument for Robin--since Starfire was recognizing the boundaries he was laying out, but who was he laying them out for if she didn’t care about them? Himself? Alfred had made a point of bringing him up to be ‘proper’ and ‘gentlemanly’ (perhaps to make up for some shortcomings with Bruce) but Robin’s own childhood in the Circus was closer to what Starfire was describing--the performers spent so much time traveling and setting up and breaking down the circus that they had to catch sleep when they could, sleeping in piles, often with little regard for gender or age. He remembered sleeping splayed across his parents’ laps when he was small, or with his cheek smushed against Samson the Strongman’s bicep, or even in the pile of poodles, borzois, and border collies that made up the act of ‘Rivka’s Fabulous Tumbling Dogs.’ Sometimes he would even wake up with white greasepaint smudged in his hair from sleeping on one of the clowns’ shoulders. But now here he was, feeling like a bit of an idiot as Starfire pulled some sheets off the bed and the extra pillow and handed them over to him, before plopping down cross-legged on the bed herself and turning on the hotel room TV. 

“Did you want to watch something?” Starfire glanced at him.

“I’m fine with whatever you want to watch,” Robin shrugged.

Robin took the uncomfortable wooden chair next to the too-small hotel table where their mostly-eaten one-half pepperoni one half pineapple-anchovy pizza sat. Starfire quickly flicked through the channels until reaching a public access channel where a reindeer bellowed on the screen.

“The noble caribou,” the narrator spoke, “A proud fixture of the tundras of the north that have roamed these grass-covered polar deserts for thousands of years.”

Robin gave a glance over to Starfire who was lying on her stomach on the bed and kicking her feet back and forth, her chin in her hands like any preppy teenaged earth girl watching her favorite low-budget cringeworthy high school drama starring 29-year-olds.

“But this is not a story of the caribou, no we will focus on a friend who has been here even longer,” the camera panned down to a caribou gnawing some knotty, netted-looking substance from the ground, “That industrious, unsung hero: The lichen. This is... Life of Lichen.” 

“What happened to ‘World of Fungus?’” Robin tilted his head.

“You remembered?” Starfire perked up.

“I mean it’s your favorite,” Robin shrugged, “Or I guess this is your new favorite?”

“Life of Lichen is the sequel!” Starfire said excitedly, “Technically it is the third sequel. The first was ‘Our Friend the Algae,’ the second was, ‘World of Fungus’ and now it is ‘Life of Lichen!’ Because you need both algae and fungus to create it,” She paused a bit, “I can... change it if you prefer something else though.”

“Nah I kind of like it. It’s calming,” said Robin, “I used to only research stuff for like... missions and investigations... it’s nice to just... be interested in things.” He craned in his seat a little to see better.

“There is room,” said Starfire, scooting herself over, “You can see better here.”

Robin paused for a few seconds, then got up and took a seat on the bed, propping some pillows up against the headboard for himself to lean against. 

“While lichen bears superficial similarity to moss, there are many differences, the first starting with composition. Mosses, of course, are plants, while lichens are composite organisms, there are over 20,000 known species...” The documentary narrator continued talking as the camera panned across a rainbow of lichens on the side of a rock and Robin found his eyelids drooping, 

He could have sworn he only rested his eyes for a few minutes when he suddenly startled awake. Most of the hotel room lights were off, save for the bedside lamp, the credits were running on the TV and the previews were next week’s episode were promising to delve into the exciting world of lichens growing on trees, as opposed to this episode which mainly featured lichens growing on rocks.

“Starfire?” Robin said, his voice hoarse with sleepiness.

“Mm?” Starfire was already turning around and fluffing up her pillow, the faint green glow of her eyes creating a low spooky light in the room.

“The floor’s kinda gross,” said Robin.

“The floor is indeed gross,” said Starfire.

“Is it cool if--”

“It is very cool,” said Starfire. She reached and got the pillow he had on the floor next to the bed and passed it over to him.

“Alright,” Robin got under the sheets. Maybe he would have found more energy to be flustered about the action if he hadn’t been lulled by an hour of a husky British accent talking about lichens. Starfire seemed to be respecting his ‘earth intimacy hangups’ and slept on her side with her back to him.

“G’night,” said Robin.

“Sleep well,” Starfire’s voice was half muffled into her pillow as he turned off the bedside lamp.

It didn’t take too long for Starfire’s breathing to go slow and rhythmic, but Robin was still staring at the ceiling. 

God, I made that weird, he thought, Why did I have to make such a big deal about sleeping on the floor? I mean I literally was repeatedly saying it’s not a big deal and it wasn’t but now it’s a whole thing. What if she thinks I don’t like her? What if she knows I like her but she’s really pushing the alien thing so we don’t have to address it? No that’s awful, she wouldn’t do that--earth means too much to her to do that. That was shitty of me to think. ‘Earth Intimacy hangups.’ I don’t have earth intimacy hangups. I should probably let her know that it’s probably not cool to tell people they have ‘earth intimacy hangups’ right to their face. I’m cool with it though. Because I don’t make big deals of things. I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal to sleep on the floor. Oh god I’m obsessing over this. 

He turned on his side so that he was facing her back in the bed. He stared at her, watching her shoulders slowly shift with her breath. He tried to match the pace of his breath to hers. 

Tesh’li, huh? he thought, and he felt his eyelids get heavy. He imagined a distant world with high-ceilinged palaces, and a family sleeping in a pile on a heap of luxurious cushions and circular futons, one of their two daughters hovering upside-down just above them. His eyelids slowly slid shut, Doesn’t sound so bad...

He woke up at 2 in the morning drowning in hair.

Starfire was hovering about a half foot off the bed, half the blankets hanging off of her, still in that same ‘lying on her side’ position, though now angled so that the majority of her hair was piled directly on Robin’s face. Robin sputtered quietly, pushing hair out of his eyes and mouth and flinching hard as he realized Starfire was floating.

“Star-pft-fire?” he whispered hoarsely, still pushing hair from his face.

“Robinnn... Kan’ah peq lor-faon eshdarm...” Starfire murmured in Tamaranean.

“...What?” Robin said blankly before she dropped back down onto the bed with a bounce and a loud creak of mattress springs, still dead asleep. A cat-like snore escaped her as she readjusted herself in the blankets. Robin breathed in a steadying breath, coming to terms with what he had just seen and how it was all perfectly normal what with Starfire being an alien. Then he repeated that last mental sentence back to himself and wondered how long ago this work had claimed his sanity like it had claimed Bruce’s. He didn’t have long to dwell on that thought, however, as Starfire turned over in her sleep, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close, her alien strength moving him with the same ease as she might grab a stuffed animal.

“Star?” Robin whispered again as her arm snaked over his chest. He felt her body pressing into him from behind. His face was burning. 

“Hmm... Wurul tai horqarr, Silkie...” she mumbled, squeezing Robin close.

“Er.. Star--I’m not--Ggk!” Robin winced a little at the tight squeeze, wondering for a few seconds if he was going to get a broken rib,  but then Starfire seemed to nuzzle her cheek against his hair and her grip relaxed with a slight sigh.

Her hair was still enveloping him in a river of orange. She was warm--warmer than any human he could remember, and being in her arms felt like that almost- too-warm that’s perfect for dozing off while reading on summer afternoons. She smelled like ozone, and Lapsang-Souchong tea, and fresh-cut citrus. He wondered how he smelled to her. If he smelled like a memory of another planet. He listened to her breathing for a few minutes longer, as the warmth of her sank into him. He felt the exhaustion he always felt like he was barely outrunning catch up to him again, but here he was willing to let it overtake him.

Maybe I should wake her up? I mean... alien strength... don’t want to get crushed if she has a weird dream or something. Probably the smart thing to do, he thought.

“Zontar-ha peq lor-yuur’vyn...”  Starfire murmured in her sleep and readjusted herself against him again, her body curving around him. 

Eh. There are worse ways to go, he thought as he closed his eyes.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Sticks and Stones - Chapter 1 [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Taglist is open, and now has an option to be tagged in this series - you can find the form here.

A/N - here is chapter 1! Both myself and @a-mended-pact are so excited for you guys to read this and we hope you love it like we do. This was all her idea, just my writing! Lyrics are from Lost Boy by Ruth B, which you can listen to here. /// indicates change of perspective. Starts in Spencer’s POV.

This fic is a slow burn. Strangers to friends to very eventual lovers. Smut to come in later chapters but you will have to bear with it!

CW: mentions of BDSM, paddling, very vague mention of penetrative sex, abusive relationship, Maeve mentions, vague hints of violence, bad language.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

WC: 3.6K

—————————————————————

Chapter 1 - Lost Boy

There was a time when I was alone,

Nowhere to go and no place to call home.

My only friend was the man in the moon,

And even sometimes he would go away too.

“Everything ok pretty boy?”

Morgan’s elbow in my ribs snapped me out of the dream-like state I’d been sucked into ever since we entered the building.

I took a deep breath once out on the sidewalk, relishing in the fresh air that filled my lungs.

Morgan watched me expectantly, awaiting my response. The only problem was, I wasn’t sure I had one for him.

Truth be told, I was not ok. That’s not to say that was a bad thing, far from it.

The case had taken us into the underground world of BDSM. I knew a little about the subject, but certainly nothing extensive. Morgan and I had just been to interview a Madam who owned and operated a BDSM dungeon. It was, and I quote, “a safe place for people to visit to live out their darkest fantasies without judgement or reprimand.”

Morgan had seemed completely unphased by the excursion which left me with a lot of questions, but they were soon forgotten.

The air in the dungeon had been crisp yet stale; stifling but freeing. The lighting was low and the music that hummed through speakers was instrumental and oddly calming. However the music was permeated with the sound of varying objects hitting flesh, moans and grunts and the clanking of chains. It excited me to my core.

The further we were led into the dungeon the more the air smelt of sex and sweat. Paddles, whips, chains and everything in between hung from the exposed brick walls and it was a lot, but in the best possible way.

So no I was not ok I supposed. I was going through some kind of awakening. Since Maeve’s death I felt as though I had been drowning in a sea of misery but for the first time I felt a small glint of hope. This could be my life preserver.

“Pretty Ricky?” Morgan spoke again as I stared at him, lost in thoughts.

“Huh?” I frowned, shaking my head to snap myself out of the reverie I had created.

“I know that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.” Morgan chuckled, nodding his head back towards the building we’d just left. “I hope it didn’t freak you out too much.”

Yes because there is no way Spencer Reid could be anything other than terrified in a sex dungeon, I thought bitterly.

“I’m fine Morgan, don’t worry about me.” I walked past him then so he would see the look on my face.

Excitement. Erotic excitement, that’s all my expression could have been described as.

///

With a heavy sigh I shifted my attention from the sketchbook to the clock on the wall and the ominous ticking.

It was early afternoon, time to start preparing dinner soon.

With another sigh I closed the sketchbook on my half finished design and pushed myself up from the couch.

Brett saw my career as a flight of fancy, nothing notable or interesting. He never asked how my designs were coming along or how well my creations were selling in the little boutique shop I sold them out of.

I didn’t make much money from it but it didn’t matter because it’s what I loved to do. I was almost completely financially dependent on Brett, as well as being dependent on him in every other aspect in my life.

The truth was, I struggled to remember my life before him. Our parents had introduced us when we were teenagers and I’d belonged to him ever since.

I've worn his ring now for just under a year. It was hard to say when it started feeling like a noose. Maybe it had always felt that way, uncomfortable, heavy; suffocating. I only feared what it would feel like when we actually got married.

But I knew I couldn’t do better than him. No one would love me the way he did.

I wouldn’t have anything without him. I had long ago burnt all my bridges with my friends and family, Brett was the only companion I had. Sure he was difficult at times, hard to please, but he loved me. And I loved him.

Didn’t I?

It didn’t much matter if I did or not. I couldn’t leave, where would I go?

I felt guilty thinking such things, if he was to find out I’d even considered leaving him it would be the last thought I ever had.

I tucked my sketchbook away in my bottom drawer under a stack of magazines before making a start on dinner. It wasn’t worth the hassle to not have things in order. Life was a lot simpler if I did everything Brett asked of me and didn’t make a fuss. I didn’t want to rock the boat when this boat was the only thing keeping me afloat.

Although some days, drowning seemed like the better option.

///

“You're very quiet tonight, Pony.” Stella nudged me in the arm, talking around a mouthful of popcorn, like she often did.

“You are an animal.” I rolled my eyes. “And I’m quiet because I’m trying to watch the film.”

“You hate Tarentino.”

“I never said that.”

“You have said that on multiple occasions.”

In my peripheral vision I saw her grab the remote and pause the film.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?” she grabbed at my tie, tugging it to get my attention.

I turned and glared at her.

“Nothing.” I scoffed. “Just tired.”

“Nope. Nuh uh. Not buying. Spill Pony.” She pulled her legs up beneath her on the couch and turned her body to face me.

I’d been back in state for less than a few hours and I was exhausted if truth be told. I’d come home, just wanting to sleep, my head buzzing with thoughts of the BDSM world.

Upon dragging myself into my apartment I had found Stella, a girl of few boundaries, sitting on my couch, eating my popcorn and watching my TV. Granted I had only brought the TV for her, she spent more time in my apartment than I did and buying the TV stopped her going through my belongings and making a mess of my things.

The last straw had been when I’d come home from a case in New York to find her using my razor to shave her unmentionables.

“If you had a TV I wouldn’t have to entertain myself in other ways.”

“You call it entertaining to shave your...you know.”

“Pubes Spence, they are called pubes.”

“If I buy a TV will you stop saying pubes?”

“I’m fine Stella.” I pushed myself up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

I heard her leap up behind me, she was not the most graceful creature, and followed hot on my heels.

“Pony!” she yelled, chasing me and grabbing my shoulders. “You’ve never lied to me.”

I looked back at her and her large, expressive brown eyes held a hint of sadness I had never seen in them before. She was right, I never had lied to her before. Lying to Stella was a fruitless endeavor because she can see right through any lie. She would make an excellent profiler.

I didn’t know why I was trying to lie to her anyway, Stella was the least judgmental person I had ever met. She was open and honest and expected the same from others. And up until now I had been just that.

I don’t know why I was worried about telling her what was on my mind. If there was anyone in the world I could talk to about what was on my mind it was Stella.

“BDSM.” it came flying out of my mouth like a bullet from the chamber of a gun. Four letters, that was all I gave her.

Stella raised an eyebrow at me and pulled a slightly bemused face.

“Care to elaborate on that one?” She put her hand on her hip.

I sighed heavily and leant back on the kitchen counter.

“Well it first gained mainstream momentum in the nineteen forties with the popularization of pin-up girls and fetish magazines as well as the birth of the leather subculture in the gay community after World War Two.”

Stella just glared at me, so I continued.

“A recent study showed that those who partake in BDSM activities are healthier and less neurotic than those with a tamer sex life.”

She was still glaring at me. I understood why.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

“Fine, we had a case involving the world of BDSM. I’ve recently been feeling like something is missing. Sex with Jordan and Taylor is great and but there was just...something else I was craving anf I didn’t know what it was. Until…” I trailed off, allowing Stella to fill in the gaps.

A large amused smile played on her lips as she looked at me.

“Oh wow.” she chuckled brightly. “Wow.”

“Shut up.” I slapped her playfully in the arm.

“You want someone to pin you down and leave bruises that don’t go away?” she smirked, her eyes dark.

“Not exactly.” I chewed my lip. “I did some research on the plane. I think the thing that’s been missing...the thing I’m craving is control.”

“Oh.” her eyes somehow got darker. “You want to pin someone down and leave bruises that don’t go away?”

“I think so.” I scratched the back of my head. “Maeve’s death was completely out of my control and I think maybe I have been searching for a way to regain that control I lost. I think this might be the answer.”

Stella’s fingers were toying with my tie, running up and down the silk.

“I like this side of you, Pony.” her breath was hot on my face. “Think Jordan or Taylor will go for that?”

I shook my head without missing a beat. I’d already considered that myself.

“Well, I might know someone who could be interested in that sort of thing.” She tugged on my tie, pressing her body against mine.

“Y-you do?” I suddenly felt nervous. Sure Stella and I flirted but it had always just been friendly. Was she really getting at what I thought she was getting at?

“Hmmm.” She mumbled into my ear, her breath sending shivers down my spine.

“In the likely event that I am wrong, who did you have in mind?” I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat.

“Oh Pony,” she laughed, grinding her hips into mine. “You know damn well who I have in mind.”

I swallowed again, this was coming out of nowhere. Five minutes ago we’d been watching a movie and now she was all over me.

“Aren’t you gay?”

She shrugged, tugging my tie again.

“I prefer women. But you Pony…you are one hot dude.”

“Oh I get it.” I laughed nervously, pulling my tie from her hold. “This is a joke. You’re joking. Good one Stella.”

I managed to break free and push past her but it only took a second for her hand to wrap around my wrist.

“I am most certainly not joking.” She stared me dead in the eyes.

I sometimes thought I knew Stella better than I knew myself and I could tell by the look she was giving me, she wasn’t joking.

I just didn’t understand. She had never shown any interest in me before so I couldn’t help but wonder, why now?

“But...I don’t understand.”

“Let me spell it out for you then.” she let go of my wrist and put her hands on her hips. “I spend my whole life being dominant and bossing people around. The idea of being someone’s sub intrigues me. And you are my best friend in the entire world. I trust you more than I have ever trusted another human being, Spence. If I was to do this with anyone, it would be someone I trusted with my life. We’d have fun right? Just picture it.”

It wasn’t too hard for me to picture it if truth be told. When Stella and I first met I had the biggest crush on her so it wouldn’t have been the first time I had pictured falling into bed with her.

She was beautiful, alluring and sultry. And she was right, BDSM was all built on trust and without that it wouldn’t work. So who better to embark on that with than my best friend? Our friendship was solid enough it could survive anything, so why not this?

“Yes.” I found myself blurting out. “Yes, let’s do it.”

She gave me a mischievous smirk.

“Perfect. It’s been a while since I got laid.”

“Uhm...how do we...start?” I frowned a little, suddenly nervous again.

“Not right now.” she shook her head. “I haven’t shaved my legs and you smell like airplane.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “Of course not now.”

“We’ll need to have some kind of ground rules and such.” She walked past me, grabbed a soda from my fridge and headed back towards the living room.

“What kind of ground rules?”

“Things we’re willing to do, things we aren’t. A safe word and such.” she flopped back to the couch and pressed play on the remote.

“What are you doing?” I frowned at her.

“Watching the end of the movie.”

“But...aren’t we going to talk about this?”

“All in good time Pony.” she patted my knee without looking at me. “Now hush, this is my favourite part.”

///

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Tears rolled down my cheeks as the smell of burnt meat filled the house.

His gaze was heavy and terrifying. I knew what happened when he looked at me like that; it had happened all too often.

“What the fuck is this?” Brett growled and the usual fear swelled within my body.

“I-I’m so s-sorry.” I choked on my sobs. “I wanted to l-look nice for y-you. I was only in t-the other room for a s-second.” I was trembling furiously.

It was only made worse when Brett picked up the burnt tray of food and tossed it at the wall with all his might.

The noise made me whimper and cower closer to the stove. It was ringing in my ears, the fear wracked my whole body.

“You can’t do anything right!” He yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls.

When he picked up a shattered shard of the smashed plate my whole body tensed.

I pushed myself back up against the stove as though if I tried hard enough I may disappear into it all together.

Of course I had no such luck.

He advanced on me, hiking up the bottom of my dress, letting the shard softly graze the skin on my thigh.

“You are useless. Worthless.” He growled into my ear.

I closed my eyes and prayed for it to be over fast.

///

I looked at the crumpled napkins scattered over my coffee table with my best friend's absurd hand writing scrawled on them.

“What is this?” I frowned at the debris.

Stella sighed as though I should know exactly what I was looking at.

“Rules Pony. Ground rules. For us. For the thing.” she shrugged, collecting the napkins up and putting them in some kind of order only she understood.

“Ok.” I peered over her shoulder. “What do we have?”

“Rule number one, no kissing. Too intimate.”

“Agreed.” I nodded. “Number two?”

“We need a safe word.”

“Yes, good idea.” I nodded. “Like what?”

“Something to do with food.” Stella mused.

“You are always thinking about food.” I rolled my eyes with a chuckle.

“Donut? I like donuts.”

“I know you do. But no, no way.”

“Well I don’t know.” she huffed a little, clearly thinking more about donuts than the matter at hand.

We were silent for a moment and when we spoke, we spoke in unison.

“Sprinkles?”

We fell about laughing at how in sync we were. If I had any reservations about the situation, they were well and truly thwarted now.

“Sprinkles it is.” Stella laughed, turning to her next napkin. “Rule three: don’t play under the influence.”

“More for you than me.” I nudged her in the arm, we both know I’m not a big drinker.

“Rule four: we are friends first. Always friends.”

“Yes definitely.” I nodded in agreement.

“Five: communicate openly and honestly. Six: be patient, humble, open, realistic and sensitive. Seven: know how to use your tools. Eight: aftercare. That is non-negotiable.”

“Of course.” I laughed. “You know I’ll take care of you Stell. Is that all?”

“Last one: we can stop any time even in the middle of the scene. Of course we can add to these, but that’s what I came up with.”

“I think they are a good starting point. This however, is not acceptable.” I snatched the napkins from her hands before getting up from the couch and heading to my study. I heard her padding behind me.

I found an unused journal in one of the drawers and sat at the desk, spreading out her mess of napkins around me.

“Really, you need to do this now?”

“Yes.” I picked up a pen, feeling her eyes on me.

After a while Stella huffed, she could be a child when she wasn’t getting all the attention.

“I’m going to raid your fridge.”

“Why break the habit of a lifetime?” I chuckled, not looking up from the journal.

A while later once I was done writing down the rules Stella had come up with I went to look for her. I assumed I’d find her in the living room eating my food but she wasn’t there.

I frowned to myself a little carrying on through to the bedroom. When I pushed the door open, my jaw practically hit the floor.

“S-Stella…” I stammered. “W-what is this?”

Stella was sitting on my bed, back against the pillows wearing nothing but flaming red lace underwear.

“What does it look like?” she rolled her eyes at me. But then she quickly corrected herself. “Sorry, I mean...I thought this is what you would like of me...Doctor.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “Oh. So we are...we’re doing this. Like now?”

“No time like the present.” she shrugged. “How would you like me, Doctor? I am here to serve you.”

Good god, my head was a mess already. I had to take a few breaths to remember what it was I wanted to do.

“Turn over. Take off your panties. Let me see your ass.”

“Yes Doctor.” Stella did exactly as I asked and she rolled over onto her stomach, pulling her panties off and tossing them across my room. She got on her hands and knees and stuck her ass up in the air.

It was strange how this didn’t seem strange. It was like this was exactly what we were supposed to be doing. The bond between the two of us was so strong I knew I could trust her with this new found side of me.

I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as that.

I paddled her for a long while and she took every one of my slaps to her ass, making appreciative noises and calling me by my honorific, which was hotter than I thought it would be.

She seemed to enjoy taking the paddling as much as I was enjoying administering it.

And then it got to the sex and that’s when things got a little awkward.

We were naked on my bed, I was on top of her, pinning her hands above her head.

“You will take me without a word or with a sound. You will take everything I have to give you.” I growled at her. Stella just bit her lip and nodded at me.

I started pushing my way inside of her, trying not to focus on the fact that this was my best friend beneath me. But then she broke out of character completely and the facade came crumbling down like children’s building blocks.

“Oof,” she groaned a little. “I forgot what a real one of those feels like.”

And I couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted from my lungs as I buried my face into the crook of her neck.

“Fuck sake Stell.” I laughed, she did too. “Sprinkles. Sprinkles.” I was giggling like a child as I pulled out of her and rolled over onto my back.

The laughter consumed us for several minutes before we finally settled, turning our heads to the side on the pillows so we could look at each other.

“Well, that didn’t go as disastrously as I expected.” I shrugged.

“No, it was good! I’m sorry I ruined the moment. It’s been a long time since I was with a man.”

“Another time?”

“Another time.” Stella agreed, leaning over to kiss my cheek before she crawled under my sheet.

I got up off the bed and padded through to the bathroom, returning a few moments later.

“Turn over.” I told her, kneeling next to her on the mattress.

“What? Why?” she grumbled sleepily. “I never agreed to butt stuff. Maybe we should add that to the rules.”

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle.

“Turn over for god sake. After care is non negotiable remember? It’s ointment to help the pain.”

“Oh.” she hummed, rolling back onto her front.

I massaged the ointment into her ass cheeks with my fingertips and she made happy little humming noises into the pillow.

“You’re not going home are you?” I asked her as I fell back to the bed.

“Nope.” She snuggled further down the bed, pulling the sheets over her.

I chuckled, putting my boxers back on and sliding under too.

“Goodnight Stell.”

“G’night Pony.”

—————————————————————

Taglist -

SAS -

@lilmrspayne96 @radtwinkie @scarletstarrs @tvandfanfic @flipperpenguins @jswessie187 @drayshadow @rem-ariiana @shemarmooresfedora @lytrc @nani-2305 @rainsong01

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain @ptrs-prkrs @sexy-dumpster-fire @takeyourleap-of-faith @insomniacdyke @spencers-dria

SR x reader all genres -

@boxofsparklingmuses @frickin-bats @ukai-hoe @dreatine

@adoringanakin @amesandpineapples @goldeng1rl8 @dr-spencerr-reidd @90spumkin @battinsonn @sleepretreat @dr-spence-reid @thetiniestsupersoldier @spenxerslut @wheelsupscenehater @sunkissglow @sweetandsunny @spencereidsupremacy @bellaswanismysoulmate @manuosorioh @mcumorningstar @iamwarrenspeace @reichelhache @pinkdiamond1016 @dontcallmekittens @scroopditty

[stressy-enby]

Some Scars aren’t Physical: PART 2

Iida X GN! Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Allusions to past abuse, swearing, slight panic attack, L-bombs, and the obligatory Izuku texting POV 😜🤪

Summery: (Y/N) had a terrible boyfriend in middle school. He was possessive, manipulative, and just plain awful. Since breaking up with Him, (Y/N)’s had pretty bad relationship anxiety. It’s so bad, that it makes them afraid to pursue their new crush: the kind, earnest class rep, Tenya Iida.

Link to Part 1

Masterlist

Please note: Reader is a little short. Like, Iida’s a tall boi, and Reader’s implied to be short enough to at least have to tilt their head a little to fully see them. If you’re 5’10 or taller, (first of all, fuck you, can I have your height?) then kindly overlook every time reader is described as short. I’m 5’2, leave me alone.

Btw, this is the end, y’all. I only planned 2 parts. Enjoy 😘 

. . .

Summer came. Villains attacked, a classmate was kidnapped and rescued, and you moved into the new school dorm system. You and Tenya had been going out for a little over a month. You were thrilled to be closer to him with the dorms, and he had shared your enthusiasm, even if it was somewhat more contained. 

“Y’know what’s funny?” You looked up at Tenya, swinging your interconnected hands between you. “I still don’t think I’ve gotten used to the convince of the dorms.”

“Well, we haven’t been here very long.” The bespectacled boy mused with a smile. 

“Yeah, but it’s like… somethings I forget that we’re even in the dorms.”

“Really?” Tenya pressed the Up button on the elevator, running his thumb over your knuckles as you waited for the doors to open.

“Uh-huh. Just yesterday Izuku and I were texting and planning a movie night, I made said something like ‘wanna come over to my place or should I head over to yours’, and he was like ‘we’re literally within the same 500 yard radius of each other. It doesn’t matter.’ My dumb ass really thought I was still in my own house.”

Tenya laughed as you pulled him into the waiting elevator and punched in your floor number. “What movie are you planning on seeing?”

“I’m going to make his sit through all of Mama Mia!, and possibly the sequel if we don’t start too late.” You cut your eyes to the side to squint playfully at your boyfriend. “Why? You want in?”

“If you’ll have me, I don’t want to encroach on your “bestie time”.” Tenya pulled his hand out of yours to make over exaggerated air quotes. 

You scoffed, lightly shoving him out of the elevator as it opened on your floor. “I highly doubt he’d care. Homeboy won’t say it to your face, but you’re his bestie too.” You grabbed his forearm, hugging it to yourself.

“If you’re sure, I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to intrude on you and Midoriya’s time. I know he’s important to you.”

You smiled warmly up at him, coming to a stop in front of your dorm room. “I really appreciate that, but you have nothing to worry about. If I didn’t want you there, I wouldn’t offer.”

“Hmm. I just might take you up on that, then.”

Tenya took both your hands in his own, brushing his lips against your knuckles. You giggled softly, squeezing his hands in response.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” You said quietly. “It’s been really weird lately, we defiantly needed a night out.”

“Yeah. Things seem to be settling down, but I think the training camp incident’s still heavy on many of our minds.” Tenya sighed. “I know it is on mine.”

You hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then you certainly deserved a date night.”

He chuckled, a soft, blissful expression painting his sharp features. He cleared his throat, his cheeks beginning to darken. “(Y/N), uh, I’m going to ask you something. Before I do though, I want you to know that saying “no” is an expectable answer. I’m not going to be upset, I promise.”

You raised both eyebrows, brows furrowing. “Okay,”

Tenya took a deep breath, squinting his eyes shut for a second before reclaiming eye contact with you. “Can I kiss you?”

You swore the world stopped. You vaguely heard laughter from the dorm a few doors down, but it didn’t register. All that mattered was Tenya. Beautiful, respectful, wonderful Tenya, and how he wanted to kiss you. He hadn’t asked when you’d had your first kiss back in middle school. He just swooped in and-

Nope. You’re not thinking about Him. He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore. Tenya’s here, and he’s asking if he can kiss you. 

And you want him to kiss you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would really like that.”

A small smile cracked across Tenya’s nervous face. He gently cupped you face with his hand. “You’re sure? Absolutely sure that you…”

You stood on your toes, knotting your fingers behind his neck. “Kiss me, Tenya.”

And he happily, albeit nervously complied.

. . .

After a draining school day and the mountain of homework that followed, all you wanted to do was collapse. You flopped over on your bed, groaning into the blanket. You were so tired you didn’t even feel like going down to the main floor for dinner; you figured you could raid your mini fridge when you got hungry.

Tenya’s gonna have a heart attack if he thinks I’m skipping meals, you thought with a dry chuckle. Just as you were unlocking his phone to text him, you heard a knock at your door. 

“Yeah?” You called, refusing to leave the comfort of your bed.

“It’s me, Tenya.” He replied. “Can I come in?”

“Sure. Yeah, get in here.” You sat up to greet your boyfriend, tossing your phone aside.

He entered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before joining you on the bed. “How are you, dear? You’ve been hiding in here since the class ended.”

“Tired. So tired.” You mumbled, leaning into his large frame. 

“Oh, well, that certainly explains your absence.” Tenya remarked. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could go out someplace to get something to eat. Somewhere off campus.”

“Um, I…”

You’d never liked saying no, especially not to Tenya. You’d never really had a reason to; you usually agreed with whatever he suggested. He’d never liked it when you said no to Him. He’d guilt you into giving into whatever it was He wanted. He’d twist your emotions until you couldn’t do anything but halfheartedly agree to His whims.

You were still far too tired. You couldn’t even bring yourself to go downstairs, much less out of the school. You didn’t want to. You wanted to say no.

But the word wouldn’t form. 

“(Y/N)? Honey, are you okay?” Tenya asked, a concerned expression taking root on his face. “You look distressed, and you’re shaking, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, I-” You swallowed thickly, breathing going funny. “I don’t-”

“Shit,” Tenya muttered under his breath. He slipped off the bed to kneel in front of you, taking both your hands in his own. “Shhh, (Y/N)? I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I promise you’re going to be okay. Try taking some deep breaths, okay? It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

You slowly calmed down, your anxiety settling as Tenya whispered soothing words and caressed your hands. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Of course,” He murmured, brushing hips lips against your knuckles. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You hung your head, shame twinging in your gut. “I’m too tired to go out, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you no. I guess I got nervous.”

“Okay, why is that scary to you?” Tenya retook his seat next to you, rubbing a gentle hand across your back. “‘No’ is an acceptable answer, (Y/N). You shouldn’t force yourself to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You tugged on his shirt, eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Can I sit in your lap?”

“Oh, come here.” Tenya encouraged, opening his arms.

You crawled onto him, sitting sideways on his thighs and leaning against his chest. He tenderly wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I had a boyfriend in middle school who wouldn’t let me say no to Him.” You muttered, nuzzling more into Tenya. “He’d guilt me into doing whatever He wanted. He did a lot of other shit too, I don’t think I can get into all of it right now, though. You’re nothing like Him, and I know that. I really like you a lot, Tenya, and I trust you, but I still get nervous sometimes because I keep thinking about what it was like with him and it’s ruining things with you and I don’t wanna fuck this up and I hate it and-”

“(Y/N), you’re crying.” Tenya interrupted, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, honey.”

You nodded mutely, wiping the rest of your tears. “ ’m sorry,”

“Please don’t think you have to apologize. I understand. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He assured you, gently rocking you back and forth. “None of this is your fault.”

He held you for another few minutes, rocking you until your tears stopped falling. “Thank you, Ten.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” He kissed your forehead, smiling loving at you."Can you promise me something?”

“I don’t know, what is it?” You asked, squinting.

Tenya laughed softly. “That you’ll say ‘no’ to me when you have to.”

“I’ll try,” You twisted your shirt in your fingers. “I don’t want you to be upset with me, though.”

“For what? Having your own opinion? Not wanting to do something?” He pulled away from you a little to look you in the eyes. “That’s unfair to you. You’re far too precious to me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped being with me.”

You laughed breathily, smiling for the first time all night. “That’s just it, Tenya. I don’t feel trapped. I feel free.”

Tenya let out a dumbfounded laugh, blush spreading across his face. “W-well, I’m glad.”

You softy threaded your fingers into his hair, kissing him sweetly. He melted into your touch, pacing a hand on the back of your head.

“Thank you,” You whispered against his lips.

“For what?”

“For just… being you. You’re amazing, Ten.” You pursed your lips, organizing your thoughts. “And… I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Tenya’s grip on you suddenly slackened out of shock. You would’ve slid right out of his lap if you hadn’t anchored yourself by griping his shoulders.

“Woah, sorry,” Tenya quickly gathered you into his arms again, face burning. “You surprised me. Um, did- did you mean it?”

“How could I not?”

 Tenya let out a dazed puff of air, a flustered smile tugging at the cornered of his lips. He lightly kissed your jaw, his fingers dancing over your waist with a feather-light touch. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

. . . 

(Y/N): Yeah, I was just too tired to go down to dinner. Don’t worry, I’ve got food up here. Tenya wanted to go out for dinner, but a minor panic attack changed his mind 😎

Izuku: Wait, panic attack? What happened?

(Y/N): He asked if we could go, and I got a little nervous about telling him no

(Y/N): I freaked out a little bit, and he held me for a while. I told him a little about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Izuku: …Voldemort??

(Y/N): 😑

(Y/N): Yes, Izuku. I dated Voldemort in middle school.

Izuku: Lol, how’d that convo go?

(Y/N): Really well, actually. Tenya was supper understanding. God I love him.

Izuku rolled his eyes, snickering as he texted back, Totally news to me. 🤣 When did you come to that realization? 

As he hit send, a different text notification slid across the screen.

Iida: (Y/N) got anxious about something and explained a little of their “bad dating experience” you mentioned to me. They were a little distressed about the whole thing, but they still managed to fluster me.

“What am I, the middle man?” Izuku asked himself, sighing as he texted his friend back.

Izuku: Ooh boy. What’d they do?

Another text from you. Izuku navigated back to your thread. This was already getting tiresome.

(Y/N): I dunno. We had a date a month-ish ago, and we had our first kiss afterwards. I think I may’ve had some sort of idea that I was in love with him then, when he asked if he could kiss me.

Iida again. “Good grief,” Izuku muttered.

Iida: They told me they loved me. It threw me for a loop, but I managed to regain control of my senses to tell them that I loved them too.

Izuku: Geez, you two are hopeless.

Iida: What do you mean?

Izuku: I’m currently switching back and forth between texting both you and (Y/N) gushing over each other.

Iida: Oh.

Izuku: Yeah man. This is fun and all, but (Y/N) called me as their wingman first. Go get your own, lmao

Switching back over to your message, Izuku sent one last text:

Izuku: That’s really sweet. Anyway, Iida is also texting me at the exact same time as you are. Thought I’d pass along a message he didn’t ask me to pass: he’s head over heels for you. I’m now muting my phone. Being friends with you two is exhausting. 

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 1. petrichor

Next

You move to a small, rural town, in the middle of nowhere, accompanying your mother. Nockfell, she says. A boy named Larry Johnson introduces you to his friend, Sal Fisher, occasionally dubbed "Sally Face." Your feelings cloud your judgement and you get yourself caught up in what seems will change you and Sal Fisher's life, forever.

[warnings: cursing, smoking]

"the kind of blue that makes you ache."

—

Sticky wood against your skin, the hard pressure of the surface beneath your face. The unrhythmic pulsing of the migraine that pressed at the sides of your skull—like phantom palms, relentlessly squeezing your brain.

You slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before squinting as you adjusted to the dimness of the room. The noon sun filtered through the windows and cast its golden warmth over every surface. Its comfort found its way over your face, and you breathed in slowly.

You could see the dust particles floating through the air. The sunshine opened out its rays over the beige carpet. You crawled from the dinner table, laid on the soft floor, and allowed yourself to bathe in the welcoming heat.

Your fingers absentmindedly began to play with the looped fibers beneath you as you stared up at the dull ceiling and thought. Today you and your mother had awoken at an unearthly hour of the morning to start your travels to a town called Nockfell.

You'd arrived hours later. At the moment, your mother, who was named Michelle, was out at her new job—a supervisor position at a bank, or something. She'd also worked at a bank in your old town but was promoted to another location and that was the reason for the move.

You had the apartment to yourself. It wasn't much better than your last flat—equally as unsettling as the last.

Your body jerked and you murmured a frustrated curse as the resoundingly impressive knocking of your door frightened you into an upright position. You scrambled onto your feet, the heated carpet warming your soles.

After you'd approached the door, you turned the doorknob and pulled it open as far as the safety chain would allow. You then settled your weight on your right foot and leaned toward the opening. The cool, dead air of the hallway breezed your face.

A boy, with long brown hair and dark eyes. Seemed to be around your age, and taller than you. He was tanned. You assumed it was genetic, as your mother informed you the weather in Nockfell was almost always droll and depressing.

You had to incline your chin upward an inch to meet the brunette's eyes.

A person stood behind him, with eye-catching blue hair that wisped past their ears and brushed their shoulders. Matching eyes, a bit lighter than their cerulean hair. The only thing about this person that seemed a bit jarring was the mask they wore. They were smaller than the boy beside him, and you were able to look them right in the eyes.

You weren't any type to judge off of appearances, so you didn't spend much time staring.

"Hello," you press a shoulder against the door, awkwardly fidgeting. "I'm- do you.."

Before you can painfully struggle for something to say, the tallest boy resolves your conflict. "Hi," he grins easily. "I'm Larry, and this is Sal. He and I had the idea to swing by and welcome you to Addison's.."

He trails off, noticing your disheveled state and tired eyes. You were conscious enough to recognize his hesitation and quickly rubbed the sleep from your eyes. "Oh. Oh. Sorry- I know I look so bad right now.." You quickly passed a hand through your hair and licked your lips. "I was laying on the floor when you knocked."

Why did you say that? You've made yourself out to be a real weirdo, haven't you, Y/N?

"Larry", glances over at his friend "Sal" amusedly, almost like he knew something you didn't. His eyes then revert to you. He opens his mouth to speak, but his blue-haired friend beats him to it.

"You're going to Nockfell, right? I'd say you're 16, like us.."

Yeah, okay. Any suspicions a person could have about Sal's gender upon just seeing him—you didn't, his build was masculine enough and you'd already watched his Adam's apple bob, and Larry had referred to him with male pronouns prior—would probably cease upon hearing him speak.

After realizing you should speak, and not silently trail your eyes down his body, you replied. "Oh, yeah. I'll start the same day as everybody else. Shouldn't that be tomorrow, or-"

"After that," Sal tentatively cut you off, and you watched him swallow. It was sweet, his resignation. Like he was constantly worried about offending. "The day after that."

You felt as though you were missing something.

"Oh!" You exclaimed, embarrassment washing over your features. You quickly tell them your name, regretting not having said it earlier.

Beneath the tank top, you were wearing, your bra strap slipped further down your shoulder. You felt it slide. Oops, you thought, comprehending the fact that it had been misplaced the entire conversation.

Quickly, you pushed it back up and reached for the doorknob. "Okay, um, see you guys then!" And then basically slammed the door in their faces.

You slapped a palm over your mouth. "Oh my god," you breathed, abashed at yourself. "That was horrible."

They'll probably make fun of how awkward you are at school, you thought. "I wouldn't blame them," you told yourself.

At the time, you didn't realize the importance of that meeting. But, then and again, if it hadn't happened that day it would definitely have later.

The next day you and your mother settled further into the apartment. Your mother was supposed to start work the following day so that meant she had time to properly furnish your apartment. The moving vehicle had arrived a day after you'd arrived in Nockfell, which was "highly inconvenient and unconventional", to quote your mother directly.

Uninterested in watching your mother painstakingly put flower arrangements together, you took it upon yourself to explore the property and familiarize yourself with Addison's Apartments. There wasn't really much of anything besides trees and grass and the view of buildings in the distance. Oh, and the treehouse. Curiosity got the best of you and you made your way towards it.

It had rained in the night. You could smell the scent of water on dry earth and feel it against your hands and face. You tasted mist on your tongue and your sneakers squeaked on the wettish grass. You could practically feel the dampened mud staining the white soles.

You almost slipped climbing up the ladder and into the treehouse. You were glad you weren't being watched because the face of terror you'd just made was really embarrassing.

The structure was actually pretty impressive. If you could live in it, you would. A few posters here and there and a lot of storage for nicknacks and food. A family photo and a stool. A toolbox, some other shit- it was almost as if people hung out in this extremely well-kept treehouse a lot.

Fuck. You didn't expect the damn thing to be lived in. You'd expected the thing to be made in the 70s and extremely old and abandoned. You'd practically just broke into someone's property! You'd burglarized this treehouse!

"I have to get out of here," you murmur, frantically. "Before we get evicted."

That actually wouldn't be too bad, you replied to yourself. Pissing Michelle off would be really funny.

Letting out a breath, you move from the window and pivot around to climb back down the ladder and run like hell. Instead, your ears absorb the sound of creaking and boyish laughter. You have no time to react before the blue-haired boy you'd met the following day is climbing into the treehouse and meeting your eyes.

His laughter ceases and you scramble to explain yourself as his brown-haired friend follows him into the treehouse.

"I am so sorry," you rush. "I thought this thing was abandoned. I had no clue it was yours. I'm really, really sorry. Seriously. I, um- I'll leave, and I swear I've-"

Larry jerks like he was trying to hold back laughter and promptly fails. He sounds like he's going to bust a gut and you feel your face growing hot. Through your heavy embarrassment, you're concerned he's going to fall out of the treehouse from where he sat on the edge of the entrance.

His friend sends his elbow in Larry's ribs. Larry groans in pain.

“I think what Larry was trying to say there was that it's perfectly fine," Sal looks away from Larry and his steady blue eyes meet with yours. "Really. Not a big deal. Right, Larry?"

Larry wheezes promptly.

"See?"

You can't help but giggle. You quiet yourself as quickly as it starts, and hoped he hadn't heard. When you look away from Sal, you miss his softening eyes.

Larry grins at you. "Laughing at my suffering, it seems. I see how it is." He grunts in his effort to get himself up and on his feet. He's on one knee when he speaks again, an elbow resting on his knee. "What the hell is in that lanky ass arm, Sal? Steel?"

"Something like that," Sal replies, the sound of a smile on his tongue. You meet his eyes again. "So," he says your name, slowly. You breathe in but it hitches. "Why'd you move to Nockfell?"

"No reason that's interesting," you state. "My mom was relocated for work." You step back toward your back presses against the wooden wall and relax your shoulders. "And why did you?"

Sal blinked from behind his prosthetic. He doesn't answer your question but instead returns it with his own. "How'd you know I moved?"

"You don't sound like you're from here," You answered. "Where are you from?"

"Jersey." He returned, gazing at you curiously.

"You guys are like old people," Larry has finally got to his feet, brushing off the black denim on his knees with his palms. He rises to his full height and momentarily startles you. Despite his statement, he asks you his own question. "You miss your friends back home?"

You smiled despite everything. "Oh. Haha, no. I didn't really have a best friend or anything like that. I sort of floated. Never really met anybody."

He pauses. "Well, you live in our complex now." Larry runs a hand through his hair and looks down at you. "If you want, we can both be your friends."

Your eyes widen, and a wholesome feeling flutters in your chest. "Oh!" You glance over to Sal. "I- sure! If you'll have me."

Larry flashes his well-kept teeth. "Good! We need some more females within the gang, don't we, Sal?"

Sal looks as though he cringed. "Please don't call them females. And, uh- sure, I guess."

After that, it isn't a few minutes until you all sit down. You pull your legs criss-cross applesauce and plant your elbows in your knees, resting your chin on your hands.

"So," Larry says your name. "Ever smoke before?"

Your eyebrows raise.

"Sweet Jesus," Sal mutters. "Larry, you can't ask her that." Despite himself, he reaches for the cigarettes Larry's just pulled from his pocket.

"I only asked a question. You're a bully."

You look on in amusement. You can't help but feel a bit nervous about the prospect of doing something you've seen be demonized so often. "I haven't," but this is a new start, right? "Are you offering?"

"Oh, sure," Larry leans toward where you're sat directly in front of him. "Do you want to? Just asking. You seriously don't have to."

It was amusing how hard he was trying not to be to peer-pressure you. You still felt an anxious feeling, but that was only natural. The want to do something "rebellious" overpowered your inner unease. "Uh, yeah. I'd like to."

And with that, he resigns to his own cigarette and slowly lays back onto the wooden floor, brown eyes stuck on the ceiling. Smoke cascades from his mouth and floats through the air. The treehouse begins to smell like a bonfire, the earthy scent sticking to the wood.

You move closer to Sal and maneuver yourself onto your knees.

"Alright," he starts, to himself. He grasps your hand—which makes your heart jump, and you can't tell whether or not you're nervous or his touch had just heightened your attention for whatever reason—and places the cigarette in your hand. "Put the smoke between your teeth."

You follow his instructions. Sal's suddenly closer to you, flicking the lighter with the pad of his thumb and birthing a flame. "Okay, stay still." Suddenly, his unoccupied hand is brushing your hair aside and ghosting the side of your neck before sliding back and flattening on your nape. Chills erupt all over your body from being touched so personally by the opposite sex.

Your nerves are all over as he gets even closer, inches the flame to the end of the cigarette, and lights it.

He pulls back. "Alright," Sal watches you intently. "Now take it and inhale."

As you do so, you notice him stand and walk to the side in your peripheral.

Inhaling it into your lungs tastes like oxygen deprivation and extremely burnt steak. Your entire body is shaking and shuddering as your body instinctively attempts to repel whatever you've just sent into it. Suddenly, there's a water bottle in your hands, and the cigarette has been taken away. The cap has been unscrewed prior, thankfully, and you drink the water. It tastes like god's tears and rainbows and angel dust and you gasp in relief.

"Sweet Jesus," you choke out his earlier statement unintentionally. "What the hell was that?" You raise your head, and he's got his head bowed, bottom straps of his prosthetic unbuckled and he's smoking your cigarette from beneath it. Smoke filters from behind the shadows of the nose and eyes of his mask and into the air and slowly dissipates around you both. "And how are you doing it so well?"

"The first time around is absolutely horrible," he replies to you attentively. "It's all burnt and stuff. Drink some more water and you can try again if you want."

You do as he says, and shortly after you're trying again. It's nearly as rough as the first time around but you hold it in for long enough to do what it's supposed to and breathe it back out.

"Oh," You murmur. "Huh."

Larry chuckles at you from his place on the floor. Sal sends him a lighthearted glare before returning his attention to you. "See? It gets better." Empathically, he adds: "I don't want you doing that much this time, though. The nic sick sucks."

You didn't ask what nic sick was but it was safe to assume it was the effect of smoking past your tolerance and ultimately resulting in nausea.

You pass the cigarette back and forth—Sal taking a lot more hits than you, but that wasn't saying very much—until it was useless. Sal placed it beneath his shoe and put it out. He and Larry both dispose of the cigarettes and return to you, matching your position on the floor.

"So, how was it?" Larry asks you, amusedly curious.

You shrug and smile. "Wasn't bad after the first few hits. Couldn't have done it without Sal, actually." You then meet the boy in question's eyes, who meets yours back steadily, But after a moment, he looks to the floor and sharply exhales through his nose, reciprocating your amusement.

Larry's face moves in your peripheral, and you look towards him, but his features are already changed to how they were before you'd looked away from him.

Huh.

By the time you'd all left the treehouse, the sun was falling behind the horizon, and the sky above you was becoming a darker blue.

The two boys walked you to your apartment.

"That was a lot of fun," you expressed warmly as you stood at your door. "Thanks for that."

"We'll see you at school tomorrow," Sal responded, shifting his weight.

"You can walk with us!" Larry grinned. "If you want."

You found yourself genuinely looking forward to it, agreeing on the suggestion, and turning to your door to open it and retreat inside. Before you could, you were stopped.

"Wait," Sal blurts. You turn, gazing at him curiously. The mask shifts on his face. "Make sure your hair doesn't smell like smoke. Mine always does. Shake it out before you go in."

You doubted your mother would even be awake, nonetheless notice your presence, but you appreciated his advice and followed it anyway. You passed your hands through your hair before shaking it for a moment. You flattened it as well as you could afterward and laughed at yourself.

"Think that was good?" You asked, flashing your teeth.

Larry raised his eyebrows, thoroughly humored. "I think so. What do you think, Sal?"

Sal's silent for a moment, like he's forgotten he's there. Just staring at you.

"Sal?'

He blinks, shaken from his reverie. He quickly recovers, as it'd never happened. "Oh. Yeah," he states, moving to turn around and leave. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

With that, Sal's down the hall and making haste toward the elevator.

Larry exchanges a glance with you and laughs, bids you goodbye with a wave, and departs from you by following after his blue-haired friend.

You think nothing of Sal's quick departure, grin as you think of the fun day you'd had, and enter your quiet apartment.

[sodasback]

The Kegger - For You Series

JJ Maybank x Allie Routledge (John B’s younger sister)

 Allie was sitting on a log next to some tourist, a good looking guy, who was obviously not in high school. JJ turned to look at them when Allie let out an exaggerated giggle at something dumb the tourist said and then he watched while the stupid touron’s hand started to move from it’s spot on her knee and up her bare thigh. JJ didn’t know it but he was crushing his beer can and clenched his jaw so loud that Pope and Kie noticed. 

“WOW! You are so jealous!” Kie said teasingly to JJ. 

“What?” JJ said pulled from his trance of imagining breaking the nose of the touron that had his hands on Allie. “Pfft! No! She’s like my little sister! I’m just being protective.” JJ defended. 

“Really? ‘Cause her actual brother barely cares.” Pope nodded towards John B. talking to some friends at the keg, completely not concerned with Allison and the guy flirting with her. 

“Please J, we all know you’ve always had a thing for Allie.” Kie said. 

“I do not! It’s Allie. I’d never do that to John B.” JJ said reminding himself more than trying to convince Pope and Kie.

“So if she wasn’t John B.’s little sister, you’d admit you’re in love with her?” 

JJ glared at the two of them before groaning. “I’m not talking to you guys anymore. I’m not in love with Allie!” He emphasized as he walked away. 

Pope and Kie smiled at each other, “So he’s totally head over heels for her right?” Pope asked.

“Oh 1000%” Kie agreed.

Allie saw JJ approach and shot him a glare knowing he was about to interrupt her and try to cock block this tourist, but he didn’t even glance at her, just squeezed in between Allie and the tourist on the log. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” the tourist asked, obviously pissed off at the interruption. 

“Oh. hey man! Sorry, didn’t see you there.” JJ said sarcastically, putting his arm around Allie’s shoulders, “did I interrupt you hitting on my 17 year old baby sister? ...yeah, dude, I know she’s a minor, so I feel like-” 

“This is your brother?” The tourist interrupted. 

“No! He’s not.” Allie said sharply, looking at JJ and pushing his muscly arm off of her, “He’s just jealous, but trying to pretend he’s being protective instead.”

JJ looked at her and smirked as he drank from his solo cup, obviously proud of himself and amused as the tourist looked confused and then sighed, fed up with the drama this was turning into. “Whatever” he said walking away.

“What the fuck JJ?!” Allie yelled at him as she stood up to face him still seated on the log. 

“Ya know, I feel like people are always saying that to me!” he chuckled sarcastically, but Allison was not amused, “What Allie?! Are you seriously mad at me for saving you from a hugely disappointing 5 minutes that doesn’t end with you in an orgasm?” He raised his eyebrows as he sipped his beer again. 

She just gaped at his bold statement. 

“And you know what Allie? I’m not jealous! You’re like my litter sister!” he scoffed. And JJ didn’t miss the flash of disappointment cross Allie’s face, which she failed to hide fast enough. 

He cocked his head to the side while the grin on his face grew. “Wait a damn minute! Was that disappointment I just saw? You want me to be jealous, don’t you?” He asked standing up and getting excited while Allie crossed her arms and put on her best poker face. “You want me to look at you as something other than a little sister, don’t you?!” he teased further as he looked down at her, trying to break her. 

“I don’t know JJ, do guys practically break their necks trying to check out their ‘little sister’s’ ass in a bikini?” she asked indignantly, using air quotes. 

“I never-” JJ smiled and shook his head, but she interrupted and leaned in next to his ear, “Or get hard watching me eat a popsicle?” 

And she saw JJ’s jaw drop a little and she pulled away from him, “Yeah. I knew you were watching me dumbass ...you really think that’s how I would normally eat a popsicle?”

JJ just closed his mouth and rolled his lips into each other knowing he lost this battle. “Later ...bro” Allie said walking away from him.

...

Allie continued to get a little drunk, because even though she was annoyed at JJ for cock-blocking her with the tourist, the fact that JJ might be jealous gave her all kinds of satisfaction, which only reminded her that she liked JJ way more than her brother’s best friend. And she had a feeling JJ knew this too, and yet, there he was along with John B entertaining a whole group of girls. JJ caught Allie scowling at him and he just gave her a smirk and a wink before going back to making his new-found groupies giggle. Allie rolled her eyes and downed another screwdriver. Then she had an idea. As immature and petty as it was, she decided 2 could play at this game. 

Allie grabbed the bag of cut-up limes, the tequila and the salt. She stood on top of the one giant wooden table someone had built and left down here at Boneyard party years ago. "Who wants to do body shots?!" She yelled. Immediately, a dozen boys and some eager girls surrounded the table. She didn't even look over to see if JJ had heard. Allie helped a girl lay on the table and after a guy licked some salt off her stomach, took a shot of some tequila and then took the lime out of her mouth.

"Hey, when is it your turn?" one of the hot tourists asked Allie. She smiled and hopped up on the table to lay down.

What Allie didn't see was John B and JJ exchanging admonishing glances. JJ shook his head and walked over to the table indicating he would handle it.

"Allie, what are you doing?" JJ asked, annoyed as he reached the table. She sat up leaning back on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why do you care JJ? You jealous?" She cruelly teased with an edge to her voice. JJ just glared at her, before looking away and shaking his head yet again at her antics, "Or you just don't want your 'little sister' acting like a whore?" she asked taking off her tank top and throwing it at him, before she poured salt in the cleavage revealed by her bikini top.

The tourist slightly pushed JJ out of the way as he bent down to lick it off her, but JJ shoved him hard before he could touch Allie. Then JJ grabbed Allie's arm and pulled her off the table. "Come on!" He said dragging her through the party.

Allie chuckled darkly as she struggled to keep up, "This whole jealous toxic masculinity doesn't look good on you, just fyi." But JJ ignored her, pulling her to a secluded area. Allie had to admit though, this was her plan all along and even though it definitely was not a healthy way to get JJ’s attention, she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t actually super turned on by what was happening.

"What JJ?! What?! You came in like the bad big brother and pulled me away! Now what?"

"What is wrong with you Allie?! Letting random guys do body shots off of you?! You were about to let that guy lick your tits?! What the fuck?! You think that's cool to get wasted and let guys just take advantage of you?"

"First of all, I'm not fucking wasted! Secondly, they aren't taking advantage if I'm consenting to it dumbass. And three, it's frickin harmless! It's not like I'm fucking random tourists every weekend!" She threw at him.

JJ stared at her angrily with a furrow in his brow for a minute. "Yeah?! What was that earlier tonight then, huh?! Were you not gonna go home with that fucking touron if I hadn't interrupted?"

"Okay, so my one time versus your dozens of girls?!" She threw her hands out as they continued yelling at each other.

"Why do you think I do that Allie?! Huh?! Why do you think I hookup with random girls?"

She looked at him confused. "What the fuck, JJ?" she muttered, "Because you're a fucking horny teenage fuckboy? How am I supposed to know?!"

"You ever think it's because I can’t be with the girl I want to be with ...because she’s my best friend’s little sister? And everyone on this island knows I’m no good for her?! So yeah, I sleep with random girls, smoke all day, get in fights and just, in general, be a fuck up, because I might as well live up to everyone’s expectations of me, right? ...If I can’t have the one girl I’ve been in love with since we were kids, then what’s the point of trying to be better?” He finished, shrugging and staring at her, furrow in his brow still present.

Allie stayed quiet for a second, as the tension in her face relaxed at the realization that JJ was actually admitting feelings for her and then returning as she heard what JJ thought of himself.

“Whatever, just forget it okay?” He muttered and started to walk past her. 

“JJ, wait!” She called after him.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around yet, just let out a sigh, “What Allie?” He asked tiredly and started to turn around. Allie walked up to him and crashed her lips on his. No softness or gentleness about it, just 11 years of pining after one another sparking a fire that ignited when their lips touched. JJ’s arms instantly around Allie’s waist, pulling her as close as possible. Her hands on his cheek and neck, fingers snaking through his hair. 

They pulled apart, breathing heavy, foreheads pressed together. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember JJ Maybank.” She whispered. He searched her face for a second making sure this was real before kissing her again. 

As much as Allie never wanted to stop kissing JJ, she also had something important to tell him, so she pulled away and held his face in her hands. “You might think you’re a fuck-up. But I think you’re charming and ...and fucking electric and insanely smart and fiercely loyal. You are the most amazing guy with the biggest heart and if you ever talk that way about my JJ again, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“Oh, I’m your JJ now, huh?” he smirked.

“Damn straight ...always have been.” She smirked back before kissing again.

Taglist: @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @moonrisebeach @hernameisnoell @moniamaybank @railmerafe @phantompogues @jeyramarie @gabiatthedisco @baby-cakes-98 @lemur46 @lexieee304 @jjpogueprincess @imjustanothernerd 

[fullmoonremus]

Nothing Changed But Everything’s Different | Sirius Black x Reader

Warning: slowburn angst, mentions of slight violence, alcohol, no happy ending

Time/Era: Marauder Era, Ages 18-21

Word Count: 10.1k

Summary: Sirius found someone who made him believe in love at first sight. 

Request: Okay! :) Well in that case can I have an ANGST Sirius x Reader? Where they’ve been together for a few years (it’s post-hogwarts only a couple years) but the relationship is starting to sour and crumble. Sirius being Sirius is flirting with other girls and just neglecting y/n. They argue a lot and everyone can see that it’s deteriorating. It gets to a point where he just flat doesn’t acknowledge her even though they live together, long and ANGSTY pls 🥺 :) U decide the ending! :) Ty, much love!

A/N: I worked really, really hard on this so I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think :)

part 2 | masterlist | marauders era playlist | read on ao3

“She’s absolutely gorgeous, Prongs!” A young Sirius Black twirled around the dorm room and fell onto his bed with a dreamy sigh. “She’s witty and smart mouthed, but she’s so sweet and nice at the same time. She listens to the Weird Sisters and Queen and she’s a total badass.” 

“Y/N L/N?” James scoffs, bending over a sketch he was working on. It appeared to be an intricate building of some sort, complete with four stories and geometric windows. 

“Yes, Y/N L/N! I think it’s love at first sight, Prongsy. I’m going to marry that girl one day.” Sirius laid one of his ankles against the post of his bed. The leather of his boot made a loud squeaking noise, and James cringed.

“Have you ever even talked to Y/N L/N?” James smiled smugly and smudged ink across the side of his hand. 

“Have you ever had an actual conversation with Lily Evans?” Sirius countered, making James sputter. James looked diagonally towards Sirius and moved his head so their corresponding bedposts weren’t in the way. 

“I have! This morning, for example! We talked about the morning toast for a full 3 minutes!” His glasses began to fog as his cheeks warm. Sirius laughed heartily and threw the pillow that was under his head square at James’ face. With a deep ‘oof,’ James looks back towards Sirius, glasses now crooked. “Fine, don’t believe me! You’re just angry Evans is finally starting to fall for my charm.” 

“Ah yes, my bad. I forgot sweat and body odor was irresistible to girls.” 

“Lily isn’t a girl.” James reached his slender fingers to level his glasses. “She’s a woman.” 

Sirius was sent into hysterics; chest heaving, loud laughter, tearful, hysterics. James rolled his eyes and threw the pillow back at Sirius. But, in all of its glory, the cushion hit Sirius’ bedpost and sent feathers flying through the air. Sirius busts out in even more laughter, falling to the floor with a big, dramatic thud. 

“What’s going on here?” Remus asks, entering the room and setting his bag onto his bed. “Why is Pads on the floor?” 

“JP assaulted me!” 

“I DID NOT YOU THREW FIRST!!!” 

Remus chuckled under his breath and unbuckled his bag to retrieve his homework. “And what exactly caused this alleged assault? Did Sirius call you Prancer again?” 

A bark sounding laugh came from Sirius and James scowled. 

“No, we were just talking about his newfound obsession with Y/N L/N and he took an unwarranted dig at mine and Lily’s relationship.” 

Remus snorted and set his work on his desk. “What relationship?” Sirius let out another “HA” and pulled himself back onto his mattress. “And isn’t Y/N L/N the one who called your hair greasy, Pads?” 

“Well, yes, but I like a woman with a bit of attitude,” Sirius sighed dreamily. His left pointer finger, ring and all, came to twirl a chunk of his hair. “I think I want an autumn wedding.” 

“You’re not getting married to her, mate. You don’t even know her.” James came to Remus’ bed and started poking around his bag. “Are you putting on the scar ointment Pomfrey gave you still, Moons? Hey! Stop picking at that one, you’re going to make it worse!” He slapped Remus’ hand away from his face and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Who are you? My mother?” 

“I am too going to marry her, James! Just watch me!” 

Peter opened the door solemnly, a grumpy look plastered on his face. James turns nervously towards him before slapping him on the back. 

“What happened, Pete? I thought you were supposed to be on a date?” 

“I was, but she stood me up. Again.” Peter responds, making a beeline for the window seat. Conveniently, it was located next to his bed, so he haphazardly tossed his school bag onto the mattress. He grabs hold of one of the pillows before hugging it to his chest and burying his head into it. Sirius and James share a look before Sirius speaks up. 

“Awh, you’ll get ‘em next time. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s her loss, really.” 

“No, it was my loss. It was Abagail Cavin, mate. It was definitely my loss.” Peter’s voice was muffled as he muttered into the soft fabric. 

“Who’s Abagail Cavin?” Sirius asks, looking towards Remus for an answer. He shrugs. 

“I think that’s the ginger girl who always hangs around Y/N L/N? A year or two below us,” James thought aloud. “She’s friends with Lily too, I’ve seen them studying together.” 

Remus snorts. “Of course you have.” 

“I don’t know if I’m sad or angry.” The mousy boy admits, throwing the pillow in his lap at the wall. It hit one of Sirius’ Queen posters, making the frame fall to the floor with a loud crash. James is quick to swoop in and redirect Peter’s attention in fear of him escalating. 

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, there’s no need to get mad at Abagail. Um, how about we go get some sweets from the kitchens, yeah? Maybe that’ll make you feel better.” 

Peter tightened his jaw, staring at the now shattered frame on the ground. After a moment of silence from all the boys, Peter nodded and the pair exited the room. 

~

“Y/N L/N,” Sirius spoke in his signature flirty voice. He tried to match her walking pace, but she seemed to be in a rush. 

“Sirius Black, what can I do for you?” Y/N answered, her school uniform skirt swaying as she walked. She was on her way to meet Abagail in the library so the two could study together, and she was already 5 minutes late. 

“I was wondering if you would -excuse me, sorry- if you would like to go to the next Quidditch match with me?” Y/N seemed to swerve in and out of the crowded hallway like a car in heavy traffic. “Supposed to be a good game, you know.” 

“Me? Go with you? While you cheer your little boyfriend on? Thanks for offering, but I have to decline.” 

“Come on, you always go anyway! It could be fun!” Sirius finally matched Y/N’s fast gait. “And maybe we could grab some hot butterbeer or cider after.” 

Y/N sighed, suddenly stopping at the entrance of the library. She faced Sirius boldly and grabbed his upper arms with her hands. 

“Listen, it’s really flattering that you want me to go with you, and I have to admit, you’re super cute. But, you don’t exactly have the best track record with girls and I don’t want to be just a checkmark on your list of girls to shag.” 

While any person would be wounded by Y/N’s blunt assumptions, Sirius grins. “That’s where you’re wrong, love. I don’t really have a track record with girls, unless you count the week I dated Marlene McKinnon the October of our 2nd year. It’s our 7th year and I’ve had one kind-of girlfriend.”

Sirius watched as Y/N’s facial expression changed. Taking this as an invitation to keep going, he rubs his hands together and continues. “And if you’re talking about shagging, I’ve shagged maybe three girls who were not on some kind of to-fuck list, thank you very much.” Sirius suddenly leans in so he could whisper. “I’m just flirty. And based on the look on your face, the flirting is working.” 

“Y/N!” Abagail’s voice made Y/N drop her hands and Sirius smirk. “What are you doing?” 

“Oh, we’re just chit chatting,” Sirius answers for Y/N. “But, I do have a question for you, Ab.” 

Abagail’s face scrunched in response. “Don’t call me that. What’s your question?” 

“Why’d you stand up my mate Peter?” Sirius now stood with his feet shoulders width apart, arms crossed over his chest and his hair pulled to one side. Y/N couldn’t help but admire how well Sirius’ uniform pants fit. 

“What do you mean, stand him up? We talked about hanging out, but we never made actual plans. Honestly, I don’t really think I want to make any official plans. Some of the things he says are kinda scary.” Y/N looks sympathetically towards her friend.

“I told you to just ignore him, babes.” 

“I know, I know. I really think he’s a nice guy deep down though.” 

Sirius looked puzzled, “What harmless, little Peter Pettigrew says scares you?” 

Abagail nods frantically, “He came and sat with Lily and me when we were studying in the library last week. He went on a rant about how he can’t wait to become an Auror just to see,” The girl lifted her fingers to so air quotes. “How far he can take it.” 

“That doesn’t sound like Peter at all,” Sirius’ eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“Well, it was. And Y/N and I have a lot of studying to do. So, if you’ll excuse us.” Abagail gently tugged at Y/N’s arm. 

“Wait! So, is it a date, Y/N?” Sirius called after the girls. Y/N turned over her shoulder and beamed. 

“Common room before the match. I don’t like to be kept waiting, Black!”

~

“You don’t like to be kept waiting… but you think it’s perfectly okay to leave me all alone in the common room? That’s not very kind, Y/N.” Sirius watched Y/N descend the stairs to the girls dormitory. He was wearing his Gryffindor sweater and ripped black jeans, his hair tied messily in a bun. A long, striped scarf dangled lazily on his shoulders and draped down his frame to his mid thigh. 

“I said before the match and if I’m not mistaken, it’s before the match.” Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Are those for me?” 

Sirius quickly stood, holding out a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. “Heh, yeah. I thought it was fitting because it’s the middle of October and we’re going to a Quidditch match. The leaves are orange and there’s so many colors and the sunflowers have the same kind of color pallet-” 

“Sirius, they’re lovely. Thank you.” Y/N cut off the blabbering boy. She took the flowers happily and observed their pretty petals. Sirius was right; the rich golden color matched the fallen leaves that littered the Hogwarts grounds. Y/N held up a waiting finger to Sirius so she could go leave her flowers in her dorm. 

“It’s pretty cold out, love, do you want to grab a jacket?” Sirius said when she returned. 

“It’s all in the name of fashion, my dear,” Y/N pulls a piece of hair behind her ear and nods towards the portrait hole. “Shall we?” 

Y/N sat in the crowd with her legs crossed; her shoulders were slumped forwards and her hands stayed sandwiched in between her thighs. Gryffindor was absolutely destroying Ravenclaw with the impressive score of 80-10. 

“The snitch is right by Potter’s head!” Y/N screeched, bumping Sirius’ shoulder with her own. 

“Where?! I don’t see it!” 

“To the right! Meadowes needs to catch it before Lockhart sees it!” Y/N shivers in spite of herself, bringing her hands to her mouth in order to warm them. Sirius snickers and loops his scarf around her shoulders. 

“Hopefully that doesn’t ruin your outfit, love.” Sirius winks and turns back to the game. 

The scarf was soft and toasty, and smelt exactly like Sirius. The satisfying mix of leather, butterbeer, pine and smoke engulfed her senses and made her dizzy. Y/N wrapped it around her arms and snuggled deeper into the soft knit. 

“Meadowes spots the snitch!” Remus announces over the intercom. The entire statum seemed to erupt into chaos; cheers and boos echoing off of every surface within 500 feet. 

Y/N had always had a soft spot for Remus; they weren’t friends, but something about him was so warm and inviting. He in no way seemed like the type to announce a Quidditch match, but it appears that when you’re friends with James Potter long enough, anything could happen. 

Dorcas zooms past the Gryffindor student section in her pursuit for the snitch. The entire group, Lily and Marlene especially, scream out loud words of encouragement. Y/N could have sworn she could see a faint smile appear across Dorcas’ features. 

“Potter scores! 10 points to Gryffindor! 90-10! Ravenclaw could still win if Lockhart catches the snitch!” 

“Come on, come on,” Sirius mumbles under his breath. No matter how much he liked to deny it, Sirius got really into Quidditch. He couldn’t play for shit, but he knew the mechanics of the game like the back of his hand. 

“Meadowes catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins!!” The entire crowd goes ballistic. Kids hug, and some kiss, before storming the field to congratulate their team. James stays on his broom, doing small loops in the air in the hopes of impressing a certain redhead. 

Sirius wraps his strong arms around his date, pulling her to her feet and lifting her into the air. “We won, Y/N! We won!!” 

Y/N snakes her arms around Sirius in return, a similar happiness bubbling in her chest. 

“What’d ya say about grabbing some hot cider from the kitchens to celebrate?” Sirius questions, noticing they’re the last students at their seats. 

Y/N nods, a soft smile gracing her face. “Yes, please. I’m fucking freezing.” 

~

“It would be easier if you just levitated the boxes in, love.” Y/N watched as Sirius struggled to carry boxes into the living room of their new flat. She giggled, admiring her boyfriend’s flexed biceps and strong hands. The prominent veins in his hands and forearms were bulging, making the manual labor a show for his very happy girlfriend. 

“I feel like that’s bad luck,” Sirius explained, placing the cardboard onto the floor. “I want to do this right. If I don’t we could be cursed.” 

“Whatever you say, babe. But, just so you know, that box goes into the kitchen.” With a flirty wink and smile, Y/N walked into their bedroom to unpack some of their boxes. 

Their new flat wasn’t overly exciting; it was a one bedroom, one bath flat above a small bakery in the center of London. It was a tiny space, as you’d expect two barely-twenty-year-olds to own, but it would soon be their home. Y/N was just excited the flat had a kitchenette and a small living space. 

The best part, in Y/N’s opinion at least, was the fact that the smell of freshly baked bread filled their flat at the beginning of each day. The elderly bakery owners, Jullian and Caspar, had given the young couple a good price on the flat. According to them, they were waiting for the perfect couple to rent from them. What that meant, Y/N didn’t know, but it made her feel special all the same. 

Y/N looked out of their window to the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk below. The shop was a small, hole in the wall bakery called Dream Puffs, that was oddly popular for its location. And Y/N was quick to understand why. Almost everything they made, especially the sour dough bread and cream puffs, were to die for. Jillian had presented Sirius and her a large loaf of the bread and a dozen cream puffs as a welcome present, most of which had been eaten already. Y/N wished she had known of Dream Puffs and the wonderful owners before, but she supposed she still had a lot to discover in London. 

The one downside was the only way to get into their apartment was by going through the bakery. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but when you’re in a rush or having a bad day, having to face random people isn’t the most ideal situation. Jullian and Caspar were nice enough to close the bakery early for the couple’s move in. 

“I thought you were supposed to be unpacking?” Sirius poked his head into their bedroom with sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Oh right, sorry,” Y/N lazily flicked her wand and their clothing sprang to life. 

“Bad luck, Y/N!” He entered the room and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, laid his chin on her shoulder and looked out the window. The busy streets and buildings were muted by the glass, which made Y/N feel as if they were watching ants in an ant farm. 

“I doubt we’ll get bad luck from levitating a few shirts, darling,” Y/N brought one of his hands to her mouth, gently kissing his knuckles before returning it to her waist. “I can’t believe this place is ours,” 

“Well, technically it’s Jillian’s and Caspars, but yes.” Sirius chuckles directly into Y/N’s ear and kisses her shoulder. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” 

“Yes and no. Not now, obviously, but eventually. We’re going to be together forever anyway, so why should we rush?” 

Y/N sighed happily, feeling very loved. 

~

“Do you think Abagail will ever talk to me again?” Peter asked, laying his head against the armrest of the couch. “I heard she's working at the book shop in Diagon Alley.” 

Y/N snorted, laying her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder and enjoying the sound of the record playing in the corner of the room. Sirius and Y/N were hosting a dinner party for their friends in celebration of James getting accepted into the Auror academy. The nine of them -Sirius, Y/N, James, Lily, Peter, Remus, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary- were all piled in Sirius and Y/N’s small living room, tipsy and full of warm food. 

“That happened almost two years ago, Pete. Let it go,” Y/N hummed, Sirius’ gentle hand rubbing her back and lulling her to sleep. She could feel the vibrations of Sirius’ laughter through his leather jacket. 

“Yeah, so? I’m not allowed to like someone that long?” Peter’s voice was harsher than he anticipated, making Sirius send a glare his way. 

“She means stop moping around and pining after a girl who doesn’t want you. There’s a world of opportunity and thousands of girls just waiting to date you if you open your eyes to it.” Sirius’ tone was barely lighter than Peter’s. 

“Well I don’t want thousands of girls, Padfoot. I want Abagail. Not everyone can hit it on their first try.” 

“Hit it on their first try?” Y/N was now wide awake. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean,” Peter sat up, looking Y/N straight in the eyes. “You fucked Sirius on the first date.” 

“Woah, woah, woah, alright that’s enough. Wormy, Pads, Y/N, let’s all just take a deep breath and calm down for a moment.” James was quick on his feet to defuse the potentially harmful situation. He knew how Peter could get, and he didn’t want to see it escalate to that point. 

“Did you just slut shame me for having sex with my own boyfriend? Do you even have the authority to do that, Mr. Unused-Condom?” Y/N was now standing with James, starting to walk towards Peter. Peter stumbled to his feet and stared into Y/N’s eyes. 

“He wasn’t your boyfriend then, Miss Drop-My-Panties-for-a-Knut.” 

Sirius was quick to act, anger boiling inside of him. His knuckles balled into a fist and he threw a nasty punch square into Peter’s jaw. “No one insults my girl, Peter. I thought you knew better than that.” Sirius’ voice was like nothing Y/N had ever heard; it was cold and icy, yet fiery hot and full of hell-bending anger. 

Peter looked up and slugged Sirius right in the nose, making it gush blood. Remus grabs Sirius’ arms and binds them behind his back, trusting James to do the same to Peter. 

Y/N shrieked, having never seen Sirius or Peter get physical with anyone, let alone each other. Marlene grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the boys. 

“What have we talked about, you two?” James demanded, the vein on his neck bulging. 

“I’m not going to sit around and let him harass my girlfriend, JP! He’s a fucking asshole and he knows it!” Sirius struggled against his binds, but Remus was much stronger than him. 

“I’m not the one dating a slut!” 

“Get the fuck out of my flat!” Sirius screams making the room shake. Peter wiggles from James’ grip and grabs his wand before disapperating out of the room. 

Remus releases Sirius and he stomps out of the flat and down the stairs, most likely to go smoke a cigarette. James quickly follows after a glance towards Lily. 

“What did James mean when he said ‘what have we talked about,’ Remus?” Y/N asks, her soft voice a stark contrast from Sirius’ shouting. Remus runs a big hand down his face and plops onto the couch. 

“I wasn’t supposed to let you girls know,” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Sirius and Peter have been at each other’s throats for the past few years. Recently, it started getting physical. James always tries to defuse the situation, but it doesn’t work a ton.” Remus meets Y/N’s gaze and smiles sadly. “That boy would do absolutely anything for you, I hope you know that.” 

~

Sirius laid in bed with his arms wound tightly around Y/N’s waist. It was near 5 am and the light was just barely peeking through the window of their bedroom. The morning bread must have just been put in the oven, as the smell of fresh bread was slowly starting to overtake the flat. A long sliver of silver light slashed against the wall before fading delicately into the white paint. Sirius sighed contently and looked down at his girl. 

Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly agape; Sirius observed how Y/N’s eyes moved under her eyelids while wondering what she was dreaming about. He hoped she dreamt of him, as his dreams were constantly riddled with her. Every aspect of her danced around his dreams: her lovely smile, her laugh, her scent, her gait, and everything that made Y/N Y/N. Sirius’ own lips parted a miniscule amount as he brought the back of his fingers to brush her cheek. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was under his touch. She was so peaceful in this moment, and if she was to be disturbed, the world would crack. 

But all good things come to an end, and Y/N opened her eyes. Her features were riddled with the grogginess of sleep as she batted her eyes to focus her vision. 

“Darling? Is everything alright?” Her voice was honey in his ears. 

“Perfect, my love. Go back to sleep.” 

“What time is it?” Y/N began to wiggle from his strong grip, but Sirius tightened his hold on her waist. 

The man shot a spare glance at the old coo-coo clock that hung in the corner. “Quarter to five” 

“Then may I ask why you’re awake?” 

Sirius sighed, pressing an opened mouth kiss on her forehead. “Couldn’t sleep, the nightmares are still awry.” 

“What was it this time? Your mom?” Y/N was now wide awake and propped up onto her elbow. 

“No, the last Order mission, actually,” Sirius gently brushed a clump of hair out of her eyes. “But it’s okay, I’m alright. I have you here with me.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched and her mouth pierced. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, my darling. I just want to lay here with my beautiful girl in my arms.” 

~ 

“I’ve never been to this bar before,” Y/N giggles as Sirius opens the door to the small building. The outside’s appearance was rather unappealing; cracked, exposed brick that has moss growing out of it, a leaky gutter system, a splintering wooden door and a faded open sign. Y/N looked up towards the LED sign that spelled out the bar’s name. Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery illuminated in the wet pavement, but multiple letters were unlit, making it read Silver Ickle and Eat. 

“Me either, one of my clients works here and said she’d give me free drinks.” Sirius winked before following Y/N inside. 

The place was small and drafty, but oddly cozy. It had the same exposed brick as the outside, but this time, they were bright red and covered in picture frames.  A few wooden tables were scattered across the floor opposite the bar, and various older men sat with beers in their hands. 

“Oh, Sirius! My love, you came!” A very angelic girl from behind bar squeals, quickly exciting the bar and throwing her arms around Sirius. Her hurried speed made Y/N step away from the pair to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Sirius chuckles heartily, wrapping his arms around her small frame, seeming to forget Y/N was there. 

“Vanessa! Nice to see you again,” He exhaled. A sinking feeling settled in the bottom of Y/N’s stomach. “How is your tattoo healing?” 

Vanessa pulls her shirt down to show Sirius the skin in between her breasts. On her skin sat a magical tattoo of a Hongorian Horntail dragon, which looked towards Sirius and blew a big breath of fire his way. The art was gorgeous, very obviously Sirius’ work, which only made Y/N’s stomach sink further into her feet. The red, lacy, v neck bra Vanessa was wearing brought out the ink in the tattoo perfectly, and the shape of the cut displayed not only her breasts, but the dragon beautifully. 

Y/N knew that many of Sirius’ clients were girls; she wasn’t stupid. He was a newly licensed tattoo artist at the biggest magical tattoo parlor in all of London. Not to mention, Sirius was an incredibly talented artist, which meant his appointment list was extremely difficult to get on. The charming attitude and good looks only added to the appeal of his artistry. 

“Who’s this?” Vanessa turned her gaze from Sirius’ to look directly at Y/N. Her long, black hair fell over her shoulder like a waterfall and her porcelain skin glowed under the dim lighting. 

“Oh! Right,” Sirius stuttered, shooting a grin in Y/N’s direction. “This is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N this is Vanessa, I did her dragon tattoo last week.” 

Y/N forced herself to send a polite smile towards the girl who was just all over her boyfriend. Vanessa sent an equally fake smile and began to walk back to the bar. 

“And what can I get started for you, handsome?” She giggled, standing in front of the large wall of liquor. Y/N felt as if she was back at Hogwarts with all the girls throwing themselves at Sirius. 

“Old fashioned,” Sirius responded, taking place on one of the wooden stools. “And for the lady, tequila on the rocks with lime.” 

Vanessa sends Y/N an icy look before giggling sweetly. “Coming right up.” 

Y/N sends a worried glance towards Sirius, but he just responds by squeezing her thigh and kissing her temple. 

“So, do you have any tattoos? Since you’re so good at your job, I would assume you do, yes?” Vanessa asks, pouring Sirius’s drink and sliding it towards him. 

“Quite a few,” He catches the glass before it flies off the bar. “Most of them are covered by my shirt though.” 

It was true, Sirius’ torso and shoulders were littered with tattoos: A large lion across his right shoulder onto his bicep, stag antlers across his shoulder blades, a moon on the lower left side of his stomach, rat paw marks under the moon, and constellations riddling his collarbones. 

The bartender tilts her head to the side cheekily. “Can I see them?” 

Sirius chuckles in a very happy, flattered way. “I don’t think that’s quite necessary here,” 

“But I can already see this one…” Vanessa reached her arm across the bar and traced the bottom of the lion’s mane with her long, slender fingers. The tattoo seemed to move with her movements. “Can’t I see the rest?” 

Y/N coughs, slapping her hand against the bar. The vibration of Y/N’s sudden movement caused Sirius’ drink to wobble inside the glass. “I think I ordered a tequila not a random chick flirting with my boyfriend.” 

“Of course, how foolish of me.” Vanessa sent a scowl Y/N’s way and turned her back to fetch the bottle of alcohol. Sirius matched Vanessa’s expression. 

Once the flirt finished making Y/N’s drink, she slid it over to her. Y/N took a sip, only to find it was awfully made and very watered down. 

“Sirius, babe, I have a headache, can we go home?” 

“You didn’t have a headache a minute ago?” Sirius raises an eyebrow. 

“I know, I just feel a migraine coming on. I really need to take my migraine potion before it gets bad. Please?” 

Sirius sighs and nods, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Of course, babygirl.” 

The pair stand from their stools but Vanessa stops them. “That’ll be 2 galleons for the tequila.”

“You said you’d give me free drinks?” Sirius placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s lower back, rubbing small circles over her shirt. 

“Yeah, for you. The tequila wasn’t for you.” 

“Yeah, fine, whatever.” Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out two galleons, slamming them onto the bar. 

“Can I bet on seeing you again?” A loud giggle comes from her mouth as the couple exited the building. “Maybe you can show me your tattoos.” 

~

“I don’t know, Lily! She was all over him and he didn’t stop it.” Y/N bit into an apple and traced the Potters’ tablecloth. It was a month after Sirius and Y/N had visited The Silver Sickle, and Y/N couldn’t keep her anxieties to herself. 

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Lily responded, kneading a big glob of pie crust at the counter. Potter Cottage was much larger than Sirius and Y/N’s flat above Dream Puffs. Earlier that month, Lily had announced she was pregnant, so James decided it was time to upgrade from their small flat to a house fit to raise a family. 

“Yes, but each time I try to bring her up he gets defensive and assures me that it was nothing, that he was trying to get free drinks.” 

Lily stared down at her dough intensely before grabbing her rolling pin. “Well, I wouldn’t let him get away with it. Maybe try to ask him again tonight? Just sit down and have a real, hearts on the table conversation about your feelings and whatnot. It’s important to do that.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He’s been staying at work late this entire week. Apparently, one of his clients is getting a full back tattoo and it’s taking multiple sessions to finish. This is his biggest job to date, I don’t want to ruin it for him.” 

“How late is late?” The mom-to-be laid the pie crust into her pan and began to trim the excess off of the edges. 

“Nine, sometimes ten. He comes home exhausted.” 

“Hm, okay. I’d still try to speak with him if you can. How’s your work going? St. Mungos treating you well?” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. My supervisor said that I’m one of the best beginning level healers he’s seen since Pomfrey worked in my ward,” Y/N took another bite of her apple. “I might get transferred to the branch in France for a week coming up, though. There was a big gas explosion and they have over 200 burn victims. My supervisor said it would be a good experience for me.” 

“Oh, I read about that in The Prophet! Those poor people,” Lily filled the crust with apple pie filling. “I’m sure they need all the help they can get.” 

“Oh, I know. I haven’t learned much about burn solvents yet, so it’ll be interesting to learn on the job.” 

“Are you going this week? What a shame, it’s your birthday on Saturday.” 

“Oh, no, the earliest I would be leaving is a fortnight from now. I’m kind of a last resort since I don’t have much experience or training yet.” Y/N stood and threw her apple core into the bin. “How’s JP doing at the Academy? He’s in his second year by now, right?” 

“Oh, he’s doing lovely. The Order is grateful for his efforts and have been sending him on more missions than before.” Lily sighs. “It’s rather nerve wracking, isn't it? You’re lucky Sirius doesn’t get called on many.” 

Y/N laughed a bit uncomfortably. “Yeah, I suppose they prefer actual Aurors to go on the calls. But when he does go, those are the worst nights. I can’t imagine having to go through that on a daily basis.” 

“It’s really hard,” Lily’s voice cracks and she begins to cry. “I’m sorry, it’s the hormones.” 

“Don’t apologize, Lils. I know how scary it can be. At least he's with Wormtail most of the time, yeah? They’re at the academy together and all.” 

Lily takes a deep breath to control her crying. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Thank god for Wormy.” 

~

“Hello there, pretty lady. I heard there’s a 21st birthday party to be thrown?” James said happily as Y/N opened the door of the flat. Lily and Remus tailed him ever so slightly, all three wearing large grins and holding brightly wrapped packages. 

“Birthday party? You guys don’t-” 

James waved his hand dismissively. “We’re already here, so you’re kind of stuck with us. Peter should be here eventually.” The three push their way into the living room. 

“The nice elderly woman downstairs asked me to bring you this,” Remus held out a cupcake with bright red frosting. Y/N took it happily and walked to the kitchen to set it on the counter. 

“Thank you, Moony. But, really, you guys didn’t have to. Sirius isn’t even here.” Y/N felt self conscious around her friends. She was wearing an old tee shirt from her early teens, a beloved Scooby-Doo tee with a rip in the left armpit, and black yoga pants. It was safe to say Y/N was more than ready to spend her birthday alone. 

“What do you mean, not here?” Remus was standing in the corner of the living room, flipping through Sirius and Y/N’s record collection. They had so many at this point that the couple was unsure which record belonged to who. 

“I don’t know, he left early this morning saying he got called into work. Something about an angry customer.” Y/N felt small under the group’s gaze. “I wasn’t really paying attention, I was half asleep.” 

Y/N watched as Lily and James shared a look. “I didn’t think the shop was open on Saturdays, but I guess they are.” Y/N’s shoulders lowered visibly, making Lily backtrack. “It’s the pregnancy brain, Y/N. I’ve been mixing things up for the past week and a half.” 

“Right, right. Of course. Um, how’s that going, by the way?” She crossed her arms across her stomach uncomfortably. 

“Oh, it’s going wonderful! We actually have something to give you, if that’s okay.” 

“Wait!” James cut in. “We should wait for Wormy to get here!” 

Lily hit his chest with the back of her hand. “Oh, come off it. You know how late he is to everything! Let’s do it now.” The couple led Y/N to the couch and sat on either side of her, both wearing matching shit-eating grins. Remus remained leaning against the wall, ready to flip the record when the time came. James placed a medium-sized purple box on her lap. 

Y/N carefully undid the wrapping paper, prompting James to let out a loud groan. 

“Any day now, woman!” 

Y/N giggled. “Hey! It’s my birthday! Be nice to me!” 

“I am being nice to you, Y/N! I gave you a present, didn’t I?” 

Y/N bumped her shoulder with his and reached into the box. Her fingertips met with the soft fabric of a tee shirt. Upon pulling the garment out completely, she observed that the words World’s Best Godmother was printed across the front. Immediately, Y/N dropped the shirt and covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Is that a yes?” Lily asked, her eyes tearing again. 

“Yes! Oh my god!” Y/N’s own tears trailed down her cheeks as she hugged both tightly. “Me? Godmother?” 

“I can’t think of anyone more worthy,” Remus remarked as he watched the heartwarming scene unfold in front of him. Y/N was so overwhelmed with joy that she had almost forgotten that Sirius was absent. Almost. 

The party went along swimmingly from there on out; Peter had arrived shortly after Y/N unboxed Remus’ gift, a new cauldron and potion ingredients, and another gift from the Potters, a pair of gorgeous black combat boots. The mousey-boy shuffled over to Y/N and handed her a small gift bag. 

“Oh? Thanks, Pete.” Y/N awkwardly pulled out the contents of the bag. “Oh, good, a gift card to Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery.” She tried to sound thankful towards the man in front of her, but the disdain was still evident in her voice. 

“Sirius said it was his favorite bar, so I thought you’d like it. Maybe we can grab some lunch there, obviously my treat,” He lazily gestures to the card in her hand. “We haven’t really hung out for a while. I figured it would be nice. If you don’t like it I can get you something diff-” 

Y/N cut him off with a hug, “Thank you, Peter, this was really thoughtful. Would next week work?” 

“Wednesday?” He wraps his arms around Y/N’s frame for a moment before letting go. 

“Wednesday works perfectly.” 

The four continued to hang out well into the night; laughing, chatting, drinking, listening to music, and playing board games. As the party dragged on, Y/N couldn’t help but grow worried about Sirius’ whereabouts. Her worries were harshly pushed aside, though, when Lily suggested they play poker. 

“Ugh, I fold.” Peter slams his cards down onto the coffee table and laid back onto the carpet in defeat. Y/N smirked at Remus, her only opponent, and gestured for him to show her his cards. 

“Straight, beat that,” Remus says confidently. James and Peter “oooh” childishly and looked towards Y/N. It was very apparent that all of them, besides Lily, were very buzzed. 

Y/N smirked and shook her head, “You play a hard bargain, Lupin. So good that I applaud you. But,” Y/N laid her hand on the table: four of a kind. “You’re just not good enough.” 

The room laughs as Y/N pulls the large pile of galleons, sickles, knuts and Lily’s wedding ring towards her. Y/N slips it onto her own ring finger and holds her hand as if to admire it. 

“Oh, Lily, dear, don’t you just adore my new ring? Look at how it glistens in the light!” 

The redhead rolls her eyes and snatches it off of Y/N’s finger. “I’ll just be taking that,” She puts it back on. 

“It will forever be known to be my legal property, Evans. Don’t forget it!” 

“Does that mean I’m married to both of you now?” James smiles a dopey grin and looks back and forth between the two women. Y/N pretends to gag. 

“On second thought, I surrender my rights to your ring.” 

The group continued their laughter until the front door of the flat swung open. A very drunk Sirius Black stumbled in the door, dumbfounded as to why all of his friends were in his house. 

“Why are you guys here?” Sirius slurred, pulling up the shoulder of his leather jacket. He bumped the record player in the process, making Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac skip. 

“It’s Y/N’s birthday, Sirius,” Remus responded, his soft voice contrasting to his previously upbeat tone. Sirius slouched against the wall and slid down it until he hit the floor. 

“Y/N’s birthday...Y/N’s birthday...Oh! Y/N’s birthday! Was that today?” 

James was quick to jump into action. Propelling himself off of the couch, he took Sirius into his arms and brought him to a standing position. Sirius, of course, whined the entire way up, claiming that the floor wanted him to sit there. James responded with a small hum before peeling Sirius’ jacket off of his body and throwing it onto the kitchen counter. As Y/N watched, she couldn’t help but notice a bright pink smear on Sirius’ neck. 

“Yes, it’s today, you big goof. Where have you been?” 

Sirius went into a big flurry of words as James brought him towards the bedroom. Y/N thought she heard ��And you should have seen her!’ amidst all the jumbled words, but she pied that off as her anxious imagination running awry. Lily’s hand found her back and she rubbed soothing circles on Y/N’s shoulder blades. 

“He forgot,” Y/N said to no one in particular. “I can’t believe he actually forgot.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t forget,” Lily soothed Y/N, rubbing circles into her shoulder blades. “He probably got carried away at happy hour, you know how he gets.” 

“Happy hour on Y/N’s birthday though?” Peter shook his head. Something about his tone didn’t sit well with Y/N. Lily shot a glare his way. 

The party did not last much longer; Remus said he had an interview with Dumbledore about a TA position at Hogwarts, Lily was tired, and Peter said that he was going on a mission tomorrow and needed rest. Y/N bid her friends farewell with large hugs and thank you’s. 

It’s safe to say that Y/N slept on the couch that night. 

~

Y/N awoke to sunlight in her eyes and a crick in her neck. The living room window wasn’t guarded with curtains, so even at the early hour of 4:30 AM, the room was illuminated with soft oranges, reds, and pinks. Y/N sat up and reached her hands above her head to stretch her back. She looks towards the bedroom door, listening for the soft snores of her boyfriend. Her neck screamed in agony, but she still stood and padded over to open the door. 

Y/N twisted the doorknob with care, trying to be as silent as humanly possible. She needed to see Sirius, not have a conversation with him. Alas, in all his glory, Sirius lied on his stomach with his mouth hung open and drool oozing onto the pillow. The girl admired how he looked as he slept; the sharp jaw, the perfect skin, the messy hair, the peaceful look gracing his features. He still wore his skinny jeans from the day previous, but at some point during the night, he discarded his white dress shirt. Y/N’s gaze darted around the floor until it landed on the crumpled fabric. 

Y/N glanced back at Sirius, admiring the artwork that filled his back. She remembered the day he got it; James cried when he first saw the gorgeous antlers. The low light highlighted the dark brown ink and seemed to make his skin appear airbrushed. Y/N smiled in spite of herself. 

Closing the door softly, Y/N walks into their small kitchen to prepare some tea in order to calm her nerves. The apartment was rather messy from the ‘party’ and Y/N had to dig through endless dirty dishes to find a mug clean enough to use. Y/N finally found one, a lavender mug that Marlene had given her for her 17th birthday, and set it on the counter while she filled the kettle. 

The kitchen wasn’t as dirty as Y/N previously thought. Sure, the sink was overflowing with dishes, but the kitchen itself was rather clean. And besides Sirius’ leather jacket, the counter was clear. The floor, though, was slightly sticky. Y/N sighs and flicks her wand; almost silently, the dishes start cleaning themselves. 

Y/N reaches for Sirius’ jacket, only to have a squishy substance fall onto her feet. She jumps back in surprise and disgust of the weird texture. But, the real panic sets in when she notices a big red spot on not only the floor but the leather jacket. Upon further investigation, Y/N realizes it’s the frosting from the cupcake Remus had given her. Sirius was very protective of this jacket and if he saw this, Y/N would be a dead man. So, she did the only reasonable thing she could think of: scrub the material with a wet paper towel. 

Thankfully, the frosting came off easily and didn’t stain the material. The only real obstacle was the sweet scent of the frosting lingering on the garment. Sirius had an insane sense of smell, so if he picked up even the slightest trail of sugar, Y/N would be busted. She delicately lifted the material to her nose. 

The musky scent of Sirius filled her nose as normal; leather, smoke, cologne, and spearmint. Y/N grinned at the familiar scent until she noticed a strong rose perfume almost ingrained into the leather. Y/N’s perfume smelled of vanilla. 

~

Y/N held her breath as she opened the door of the Silver Sickle, she was in no mood to see Vanessa again. All the same, Y/N put effort into her appearance just in case. She let out her breath when she noticed an old man behind the bar and Peter sitting in the corner. 

“Hey,” Y/N said breathlessly as she pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat down. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little nervous meeting Peter alone; the two seemed to rekindle their friendship after he and Sirius fought. He promised that he was just drunk and not thinking, and Y/N not wanting to cause childish conflict within their friend group, had accepted his apology. 

“Hey!” He squeaked. “I didn’t know if you wanted to day drink or not, so I just ordered you a water to start off with.” 

Y/N laughed awkwardly. “Thanks, Wormy.” She took a long sip from her straw, trying to slow her nervous heart. “So, uh, how’s the academy? James said you are taking more and more missions with the order.” 

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, it’s great! Being an Auror is really fun, you really get to show people who’s boss, ya know?” 

“Um, I guess?” 

“I think they’re gonna kick me out, though. I haven’t done the best job at catching who I’m pursuing.” Peter raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side. 

“Oh? Why not?” Y/N glanced over the menu, only half listening to what her companion was saying. 

“I just like to play with them a ‘lil, like a cat and mouse. Except this time, I’m not the mouse.” 

Y/N looks at a delicious looking chicken sandwich on the menu and hums in response. 

“So, how are you and Sirius doing? It seemed pretty rough last week.” Peter takes a chunk of ice from his drink and starts chewing it. “If you want to talk about it, I guess.” 

This brings Y/N out of her sandwich-filled thoughts. “I don’t know, to be quite honest. We haven’t spoken much and I barely see him. He leaves early in the morning...comes home late at night…” Peter nods as if he was a therapist listening to a client. “I don’t want to assume the worst but he’s making it rather difficult.” 

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, because it isn’t really my business, but…” He comps down on the ice cube. “I was coming home from a mission a few nights ago and I saw him with a girl. I’m not quite sure what they were doing but it sure as hell didn’t look platonic.” 

Y/N felt her entire world shatter into her lap. “What?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know. She was really short with long black hair and a skimpy cocktail dress. They were walking into that club off of Coventry Street. I almost beat the fuck out of him right then and there, but there were bouncers.” 

Y/N bit her trembling lip and folded her hands in her lap. Rifling through her purse, she slammed the gift card down and stood. 

“Thanks for the lunch date, Peter, but I don’t feel well. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” 

“Was it something I said?!” Peter yelled at Y/N’s retreating back as she left the bar. 

~

“Are you going somewhere?” Sirius asked, gesturing to Y/N’s packed suitcases by the door. 

“Yup, I’m going to France for a week to aid burn victims,” Y/N finished brushing her teeth before packing her toothbrush. “Didn’t think you’d care.” 

“Well, I do. You could have told me.” He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms. 

“I would have if I actually saw you.” Y/N wasn’t in the mood to argue; she had about an hour before she had to leave, and she planned on using that time to relax with a cup of herbal tea. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You see me plenty.” 

“Yeah, when you’re sleeping or showering. There’s not exactly time to chat when you leave early in the morning and come home well past midnight.” Y/N walked into the kitchen and cut a slice of bread. “Oh, by the way, Caspar brought up some sourdough, if you actually want any.” 

“Don’t change the subject like you always do, Y/N. I work hard to support us, you know that.” 

“I work hard too. And I get home before 11 every night. I’m not exactly sure how being a healer gets you home earlier than a tattoo artist, but whatever.” Y/N buttered her now toasted sourdough. 

“Sometimes a piece takes a long time, that’s not my fault! I’ve been getting big jobs recently! You should be happy for me!” 

Y/N let out a harsh laugh as she poured water into the kettle. “Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, Sirius? Really?” 

“What do you mean? I think you’re rather smart.” Sirius followed Y/N into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter. 

“Yeah? Then why have you been lying to me for the past, I don’t know, two months?” 

“You can’t keep accusing me of things, Y/N. It’s not fucking fair!” Sirius stared holes into Y/N’s back. “For fucks sake! Look at me when I talk to you!” 

Y/N whipped around, her hair fanning around her face as she spun. “You know what’s not fucking fair? Letting a girl feel you upright in front of me. Lying about going into work. Forgetting my birthday and coming home from who knows where drunk as fuck with lipstick smeared all over your neck. Coming home drenched in another girl’s perfume. Taking your fucking side chick to a strip bar while I’m sat at home wondering if you’re fucking dead because we’re in the middle of a fucking war! You don’t know the first thing about fucking unfair!” 

“You’re not going to France, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his eyes held nothing but fire. The tone of his voice was like nothing she had ever heard before, at least not directed at her. He usually reserved it for people who yelled nasty things at her from the street, or when someone bad mouthed James. It felt foreign to hear him use it with her. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “You’re not fucking going, and that’s final.” 

“What are you? My fucking mother? I’m going because I’m actually doing something good for the world, unlike your cheating ass.” Y/N pushed her way past her boyfriend and towards her luggage. 

“Don’t walk away from me!” Sirius followed her strides. He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “Y/N, darling, we need to talk about this-” His tone was notably softer than before as if he was trying to glue together shards of glass. 

“Talk about what, Sirius?! How you cheated on me and won’t even deny it? How you betrayed me in the worst way fucking possible? I’m not going to let you manipulate me into putting my career on the line to work out some issue you caused.” 

“What, so now I’m not important? You’re a fucking hypocrite!” 

“And how exactly am I a hypocrite, Sirius? You treat me like shit and whine that I’m done putting up with it? Gonna go cry to James about how you are so upset I wouldn’t hear you out after you cheat on me? Well, go the fuck ahead because James actually has a healthy relationship with a baby on the way. He won’t sympathize with you.” Y/N grabbed the handle of her suitcase and lifted her wand. “I’ll be back in a week and once we’ve had some time to cool off, we’ll talk about this like adults. I’ll see you soon.” 

Just as Y/N apperated out of the room, the kettle whistled and Sirius noticed Y/N left her half-eaten toast on the counter. 

~

It was near two in the morning when Y/N returned home from France the following week. The home was cold, dark, and vacant, and the entire appearance of the small flat had changed. In a week, Sirius had managed to completely trash the house. Even the smell of freshly baked goods was replaced with the sour smell of firewhisky and sex. 

Y/N ventured into the kitchen first, where she observed the large stack of dishes in the sink. Everything from to-go packages to their fine china (normal glass plates from the thrift) were stacked as high as the eye can see. Some were starting to mold and produce the most horrid smell. The stove housed the kettle where Y/N had left it, but this time it was cold and empty. Another pot that contained crusty spaghetti sat next to the kettle, and Y/N cringed at the thought of scrapping it out. She moved to the counter where her toast, now stale, sat. Y/N picked it up between two fingers and threw it into the bin. 

She carried on into the living room next. The couch cushions were tossed about the room and the small fur throw was draped across the back of the couch. The record player in the corner still held the Fleetwood Mac record Moony had chosen on her birthday as if it were a time capsule; Y/N couldn't help but reminisce about how happy she was with her friends that evening. Maybe that proved that she could be happy without Sirius in her life, or maybe it served as a constant reminder that he was woven into every aspect of it. 

Again, the room was covered with food wrappers and alcohol bottles. Y/N feared the liquid that remained in the bottles would leak and stain the carpet, so before moving on to the bedroom, she set each one upright. 

The bedroom was what Y/N feared the most; without her presence in the home, Sirius could have been intimate with an infinite amount of girls in her own bed. She shivered at the thought but pushed on and reached towards the icy doorknob. 

The room was the cleanest out of the entire flat, just various clothes scattered around the floor and a messy bed. Y/N wanted nothing more but to curl up under her warm covers and press her face into the chest of the man she loved most, but that was an impossible task. He didn’t love her anymore and that was something she had to deal with, she just wished she had savored the last time he held her. 

As Y/N explored further into the room, her feet found an article of clothing that neither Sirius nor Y/N owned. Bending at the hips to pick it up, Y/N held a red, lacy v neck bra in between her fingertips. Y/N fingered the material with teary eyes. Another step forward and her feet came into contact with the matching bottoms. Y/N laid the set out neatly on the bed and wallowed; it must have looked stunning on her. 

Y/N walked to the desk, where an ink well was left open and a half-written letter laid face up on the surface. She capped the ink with a wet chuckle. 

“You need to cap your ink, Sirius. If you don’t it’ll dry out. I won’t be there forever to do it for you.” Y/N said aloud, wiping her running nose. She picked up the letter against her better judgment and began to read. 

Prongs,

I know you’re mad at me, but please just hear me out. Vanessa is gorgeous, mate. She’s sweet and nice, but at the same time she's so witty and smart-mouthed. She even listens to Queen and the Weird Sisters!

She made me believe in love at first sight, JP. 

I’m going to marry her one day, mark my words!

The ink began to run as Y/N read and cried, making small blotches of black contrast against the stark white paper. Y/N placed it onto the table and gripped the edge to steady herself. Never in her 21 years on earth had she ever felt such pain, such sorrow. Her pains were usually cushioned by Sirius’ arms and sweet slurred language in the middle of the night, or by her friends’ loud cackles. But this time, this time was different; she was alone, completely and utterly alone. 

Y/N looked to the wall in order to ground herself; a small sliver of silver moonlight slashed against the wall, illuminating the otherwise dark room. Y/N traced the line with her eyes until she landed on the wooden coo-coo clock. 

The clock was one of Sirius’ most prized possessions; it was a gift from his Uncle Alphard that he received when he ran away from the Black family.  Alphard was one of the few Sirius still kept in contact with, and he was a big role model to Sirius when he grew up. Debatably, Alphard was the one who taught Sirius how to be a man. 

The present seemed lame on the surface, but that clock was one of Sirius’ favorite things when he was a child. Sirius had told stories of the long afternoons he would spend in front of the clock, waiting for the small, yellow bird to pop out of the top while Walburga and Orion fought in the background. Y/N respected Alphard with all of her being, but she wanted nothing more than to smash that godforsaken clock. She wanted to destroy everything that made Sirius happy, she wanted him to be under the same pain he was putting her through.

Y/N knew what she had to do at that very moment: she had to get out of London and move far, far away. So far away that no one would ever find her. So, she grabbed the extra suitcases in the flat and began to pack her things. 

Starting at the record corner, she picked every single one of her belongings and shoved them into her suitcase. Y/N had to shrink a few of her belongings, such as the couch, in order to fit, but in a little less than an hour, every hint of Y/N was packed away in three large suitcases. 

Y/N gave one last look at the apartment before apparating to Paris, where she knew she could start a better, more meaningful life. Maybe, she could even find a fresh bakery to supply her with warm loaves of sourdough bread. 

When Sirius returned to the flat the following morning, the only remaining aspects of Y/N were a striped scarf and two galleons folded neatly on the bed next to Vanessa’s lingerie. 

[laurore-stormwitch]

Here is 2219 words of plotless angst and yearning and emotional pain because I’m freaking out over row coming out in eleven days and I’m terrified. I used the quote which came out the other day  “Sweet words and grand declarations were for other people, other lives.” Shoutout to the amazing @claudiarya and @not-just-human for the support.

for other people, for other lives - ao3

Sweet words and grand declarations were for other people, other lives.

Not for the one she was living now. Not for her, certainly. Those words were only meant to wither in her memories, now. This life had been a succession of wrong choices when it came to men she found herself to believe in. An absent and unaffectionate father, a manipulator and mass murderer. And now, of all the men she could let herself feel for, she chose the damn king of Ravka. Zoya did not regret believing in Nikolai, fighting for him, trusting him. He had never let her down. But caring like this for him? The epitome of bad choices. She felt the urge to rip her thrumming heart out of her chest. Her hands went to press on her temples: even the muffled sounds coming from the ballroom were unnerving her. The hope for fresh air drove her to the balcony, along with a pressing need for quiet and solitude. She was sick of everything that was going on; the party, the music, the false and hollow laughter of ambassadors and dignitaries throwing themselves at the king’s feet like their country was not on a brink of destruction. Nikolai’s charm sticking like sap on the people, a pretence of confidence and normality, with his hand on Ehri’s arm while his look stayed trained on Zoya’s sapphire eyes. It was all way too much to handle on a clear and sober mind. The voices increased as the door opened, to be swallowed again when she heard the lock. The steps that echoed on the marble floor could only be of one person who had enough of a suicidal strike to follow her when she had clearly wanted an escape.

“Get back inside, Nikolai.”

She exhaled without even bother to look back at him. Nikolai chuckled and came to stop at her side.

“You’re really attentive.”

“You’re really not subtle. I ought to teach you how to properly sneak up on people.”

He shrugged, letting her have the last line, and dangled a glass filled with a liquid the colour of amber. As close as they were standing now, their shoulders brushing, she could feel his scent meddled with a spiking note of alcohol. Nikolai was not one to indulge in drunkenness in such a delicate night, but it still had to appear like a party, and he clearly looked like someone who had needed a couple of drinks to survive the evening. She could not blame him, as a matter of fact. Still, his ruffled state only added to the treachery of being together like this. Last time they were alone, it did not exactly go down well, a moment that haunted her every waking hour since it happened.

“Weren’t you having fun inside?”

“Not particularly. It was tedious and sickening. “

“Why, my dear general, I even saw you dance with a handsome sergeant.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, scowling at him. He was grinning, but he had an edge to his voice only Zoya could sense. Do you really believe it means anything, she wanted to ask? It was true, the boy was handsome, and at any other moment she wouldn’t have thought twice on getting herself some hard-earned distraction. She had felt Nikolai’s eyes studying her the whole time, as the soldier’s hand slipped on her lower back and he spun her around. Zoya knew it was not about jealousy, or rather not the kind of possessive sentiment people would assume of. She knew because she felt it too with Ehri; what bothered her was not the affection they could share, but the way they could be together in public, how easy it was for them. The absence of barriers, propriety, and obstacles. Everything her and Nikolai could not afford to have, that simplicity. Everything he must have envied too about that common man holding Zoya’s waist.

“Genya asked me to pretend I don’t loath everything about this. But believe me, I do.”

It was as close to a reassurance she could manage to give him, without betraying herself too much. The king lifted the glass towards her in an offering gesture.

“I’m on duty.” The raven-haired general glared at his smug expression. “You know, trying to avoid people running a blade through your chest.”

Nikolai shrugged his shoulders, downing with little ceremony the content she had refused.

“I’m starting to think that being alive may be thoroughly over-rated.”

“What exactly is over-rated about a king’s existence?”

“It comes with heavy responsibilities and too many boring dinners.” His eyes looked like they were taking her vision in, intensely scanning her features. They lingered a moment too much on her lips, before darting back up to lock on her blue glowing irises.  “And it forces me to give up on a lot of things I’d like to be free to pursue.”

She shifted, uneasy, a shiver running through her spine. The wind rose slightly at her nervousness and tugged at the hem of her silk embroidered kefta, lifting it off the ground. Zoya smoothed it, grateful for the decision of keeping her uniform tonight. It made her feel a bit more like herself, a bit more in control. The frustration and anger building inside her put venom in her voice, though the exhaustion and defeat creeping through were clear enough to catch.

“What are you doing here? And cut to the chase, please.”

“I saw you leave. You looked – “ He stopped, exhaling a long breath. “Weary. Upset. I wanted to check on you.”

Without yielding away from her eyes, he took a tentative step toward her; the ghost of their almost kiss, or rather barely avoided disaster, flooded the back of her mind, along with the ushered and frantic words he had spoken to her. She clenched her jaw, tension running through her veins like a fire scorching a barren ground.

“We’re facing battle on countless fronts and still wasting time on worthless charades like this” She gestured to the closed doors and the lights beyond them, the whirl of dresses and laughter. “Of course I’m weary and upset.”

“Nothing else?” Was he really coming back to this? To being hopeful and stubborn?

“No, Nikolai. Doesn’t it seem enough to you? Besides that, I’m perfectly fine.” Clipped words and pretty lies. “I don’t need anyone to check on me.”

“What do you need, then?”

You. And it terrifies me in a way you cannot fathom. How quick was her mind to betray her. Take the dreadful truth and smash it into a proper deceit.

“I need a break, and to be left alone for some godforsaken time.”

He cocked his head to one side, considering her. One of his hand ran through his golden flocks, messing them up even more. Zoya had rarely seen him so deprived of his usual bright endeavour, so taken on by fatigue. He still managed to flash a smile in her direction, one that did not reach his eyes but died on the curve of his mouth.

“They were asking for you. They always are, the nobles, ambassadors, all of them. They want to gaze at the gorgeous squaller, the ruthless grisha who serves as the king’s right hand. They talk of you, and me, how the king has secured himself the most beautiful mistress in the palace.”

Nikolai was almost speaking to himself, his posture hardened, the despise he had for these people clear enough in his voice. Even though she couldn’t care less about the court’s hypocrisy and judgement and she had never asked Nikolai to defend her, he had always felt he needed to it somehow. Sarcasm tainted his speech, Zoya trying to assess where he was heading with this.

“They dare ask me sometime, even. How is it that I conquered you, assuming that I did, like you are some kind of prize to be taken. I told them you are nobody’s property. That you’re a general and they should hold you to that position without insulting you with their petty gossips.”

Her vindictive heart wanted to punish him for making her legs buckle with wanting, for making her heart race up in front of the rumbling rage he had for the people who did not respect her enough. He released his clenched posture, straightening. His eyes caught back their focus on her, turning soft and growing dark with desire.

“What I didn’t tell them tough, is that while it’s not true that I have you, you do hold the king’s heart in your dangerous hands.”

Zoya stilled. The hate she felt grew inside her like a tide. Hate for how much she wanted him, for how simple it was for him to speak these truths she was refusing to accept and ignore the grave reality they were living in. How natural and right it looked, coming from his mouth. How hard he kept making for her to drive the knife in him, again and again. Zoya used that familiar emotion to fuel her resolve.

“You shouldn’t talk like this. We can’t afford it.”

“What if I don’t care? What if I can’t keep on pretending anymore, if I can’t do this anymore?”

What if? What if, in another life, she would have been brave enough to tell him?

Stay. Stay with me.

Take the truth and twist it. Again.

“You should go.”

“Zoya -”

Pure anguish coursed in her at the sound of him pleading her name. Zoya felt like she was already mourning him; he was a couple of feet from her and still miles away, a distant memory blurring away with time. Nikolai turned silent and lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing the line of her jaw, floating against her neck, trailing her arm, and coming to rest on her wrist. He circled it with his fingers, tightening his grip.

Hold me. Again.

“Let me go.”

She hissed, a cold resolve in her voice. An order. He glanced at her under his lashes, pondering himself for a second, then left the hold on her wrist, his look unreadable under the night sky. Zoya turned away from him.

“I can’t do this anymore either, Your Highness.”

To her shame, her voice came out cracked with unshed tears. Would she be able to cry again, some day? She could not remember the last time she fought back the urge and her eyes just went dry. She could feel the prickle now, the pain, but the water stayed still in the endless well she dug inside herself. They were sparring, Nikolai trying to win this round and drag her to acceptance, Zoya holding her fortress. Zoya kept her eyes trained on the midnight sky beyond Os Alta, but she felt felt him move behind her, his body barely an inch from hers, his hand grazing the kefta over her hips. Nikolai leaned towards her, tilting his head and hovering with his lips near the shell of her ear. His breathing was ragged, warm against her neck, sending tremors in her body. She shut her eyes, thinking of how easy it would be to let her back rest on him, to turn and catch his mouth and tangle her fingers in his hair, to let herself be redeemed by his affection.

“Where does your heart lie, Zoya?”

It lies in the thought of your lips on mine. The wrenching need I despise of losing myself in your arms. The buried desire of a life where I could find comfort and peace, the need to give a voice to whatever this warmth and searing longing I have inside is. How your hand feels in mine, how your touch sets my skin on fire. The light in your eyes when the sun catches them, the endless nights spilling away like seconds when I’m with you.

The words came with the fury of a thunderstorm and drowned in her throat, scraping it.

You need someone different. You need someone loving, full of light like you are. He would only have found heartbreak and misery in her, a kind of affection too stiff and cutting on the edges for a soul as bright as his. Zoya pulled herself away from his hold and turned to face him, the closeness almost intolerable; Nikolai’s eyes were on her, bursting with the same yearning and despair she could feel in herself. It was gutting to see her feelings mirrored in someone else. She trailed at his side, breaking their connection; her hand brushed on his lightly as she got past him, the touch so soft and swift it could almost look unintentional to an innocent bystander.

“Some truths are better off unspoken, Nikolai.”

Zoya whispered under her breath, taking another step to get back inside. Sweet words and grand declarations were meant for other people, for other lives. Zoya was a soldier, and that was the choice she made every morning, day after day, until it would not be a choice anymore and the course of her life was set. She could not help the things she dreamed of, but not even the things she was made of; she was meant for waging wars and havoc, and she would rest in the secured loneliness and gilded cage she had built for herself.

[scribblingfangirl]

GLOWING IN THE DARK #2 | The Punisher - Billy Russo

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Author’s Note: First of all: I am so sorry this part took so long (and it is very underwhelming as it’s just a few scenes of Y/N’s life on the base (all involving Billy - and I’m not sure if I got his character right in this one)). I tried to make it one longer coherent chapter, but I needed these scenes to be able to proceed to the more important parts of the story. Hope you guys don’t mind. I hope the next few installments will appear faster and will get better again. But for now, thank you for reading and enjoy!

word count:  ~ 2.7k

summary: Becoming Billy’s friend is weird - if whatever relationship you have is even considered a friendship.

warnings: //

| PREVIOUS PART | - | next part | - | SERIES MASTERLIST |

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

You felt it – whatever or whoever it was – before you even heard or saw anything. 

As a Marine, you had undergone different kinds of training modules and boot camps and this wasn’t your first tour either. Your job before getting promoted to helicopter gunner had been to try and get in and out of places without raising any suspicion or getting in the way of the others that were fighting while you got the intel. Inevitably, however, sooner or later you had to fight your way out of wherever the hell you were as well.

It had heightened your senses, which made it almost impossible for you to have a good night's rest. The smallest change in the atmosphere or the slightest sound sent you straight to overdrive. No heavy eyelids, no blurry mind - just wide-awake and alert.

Of course, this wasn't the case with everyone though. After missions with the Blackbird crew, you’d seen Garth and Dane fall asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows and nothing could wake them up after that. You even had some conversations with Frank about it whenever you stayed over at the Castles during your military leave. 

You’d call the day you were able to fall asleep within the first ten minutes of getting into bed and stay asleep for the whole night a miracle. That is why your eyes opened wide and your body went rigid as you blinked desperately and tried to adapt your vision to the darkness. Or at least find the smallest shimmer of light. Obviously, you had no such luck. After all, it was somewhere around the early hours of the morning and it was pitch-black in the tent. 

Your hand automatically went for the gun under your pillow, only to end up empty, and it took you a millisecond to realize that you weren’t in your cot in the tent you shared with Garth and Dane, but rather in the infirmary where weapons weren’t allowed. 

You decided to do the next best thing. You used your body.

In a swift movement and without much hesitation you grabbed the thing - a person as you came to realize in that very moment - in front of you and used the momentum to turn both of you around, pinning him (as you still were the only woman on the base) down on the bed, straddling his waist and pressing your upper arm on what you expected to be his throat.

A soft chuckle resounded through the tent. In the next second, you were blinking against the white lights that illuminated the infirmary, realising that you were holding Billy in a tight grip. And worse, straddling him. 

As your senses were still on a high (heart beating fast and body frozen) you were unable to do anything else other than stare shocked at Billy.

“Gotta admit Frankie boy, you trained her well,” Billy smirked up at you, his hands going to your waist to support you a little bit and take the weight of your injured foot.

“Na,” Frank shook his head, “All that was already there. I just showed her how to properly use and manage her strengths. Reminded her of who she once was.” Frank approached you both from his place beside the entrance and gently pulled you away from Billy, who started to massage his neck as he slowly stood up.

Billy chuckled at that. “A clumsy girl?”

“Hey! Watch it or I beat your ass-”

“Again… was that what you wanted to say? Do I have to remind you that you didn't beat my ass last time? That's why I told you that there are less violent ways for you to see my backside.”

You had soon realized that flirting truly was Billy’s defence mechanism, just as Frank had said. And humour. Whenever something turned uncomfortable for him he either turned on his charms or tried to alleviate the situation by making some stupid remark.

You had also realized that Billy had been right. You were terribly out of shape. Everything had hurt the day after the game, but you had guessed it might also have had something to do with the fact that two grown-up men literally tackled you to the ground the day before.

So you had gone to Frank, because, obviously, you couldn’t give Billy the satisfaction (or more time with you) and had asked him to give you some training lessons. A little refresher of your earlier days. 

“Okay… What would you do if I did this to you?” Frank asked while cornering you against a wall and trapping you between it and his body, putting his hands on either side of your head.

“Really Frank. Are we really going to look at Self-Defense 101? I’m weak right now, not stupid. I remember the training.”

“Well, show me then.”

Sighing you looked him straight in the eyes as you punched your straight fingers into his ribcage under his left armpit, causing him to withdraw his left arm entirely. Then you punched your fist into his left rib cage that was now open to you, pushing him slightly away from you before punching his chin and knocking your head against his.

Tumbling a few steps back Frank caught himself quickly and grabbed you, hugging you from behind as you had already turned around to move away. “Not so quickly.”

“Do you really want me to give you a concussion?” you groaned, leaning closer into him and knocked your head back into his.

With a grunt, and while trying to regain his footing after stabilizing you due to the additional weight you put into his arms, Frank loosened his arms around you and you went for his right knee. 

Ducking down fast and sliding your hands down his leg to his foot you pulled it up before Frank could regain his balance, throwing him to the ground behind you. You quickly turned around and sat triumphantly on his stomach. 

“Satisfied?”

“It’s a beginning.”

“That’s enough Bill.” Frank's deep voice brought you back to the present. “She might be a little clumsy sometimes, but it’s clear that you can’t say anything against her senses.”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Kid, let’s be honest. I saw you tripping over nothing but thin air yesterday, somehow managing to injure your foot while doing that. And then you proceeded to fall face-first to the ground.” Frank said as he moved you to another unoccupied bed. Thank god you were the only one in the infirmary right now. Scoffing you rolled your eyes. 

“The ground wanted a hug! Not my problem you’re a heartless guy. Ever thought about the fact that it might not want to just be trampled on? And anyway,” you added after a short pause, “you heard them yesterday after you insisted on bringing me here. I’m fine! Just a misstep, nothing a good night's rest with limited movement wouldn’t fix… which well, is kind of the opposite of what you two just did.”

“Ah well, sorry ‘bout that. Colonel Schoonover wants to go over some strategic movements first thing in the morning. Thought you might want to get caught up with the most important details first.”

“Oh. I see. And both of you were needed to bring me a, and I quote, ‘clumsy girl’ up to date?”

“Oh no. I’m sure Billy, who very enthusiastically volunteered, will do that just fine. I just followed to make sure you don't kill each other. You are welcome by the way.” 

-

After that, you weren’t sure if you were actually becoming friends with Billy (because you didn’t actually need to ‘up your friend game’) or just accustomed to him because he was always there whenever you were doing something with Frank.

Granted, there were times when it was just you and Billy (and multiple other Marines). Like that one time when you were waiting for the showers to turn purple (a term the base had coined to show that it was your time to use the facilities without having to check your surroundings for possible men to appear and take a shower with you.... they had realized how bad it had sounded the moment they had said it to you.)

You had been waiting in front of the facility as there was still around 10 minutes before they would turn purple and Billy had decided to keep you company by starting to annoy you (you couldn't believe how incredibly childish he could be - he gave you wet willies!)

Nevertheless, you had grown close enough to him to tell him about your time as a foot soldier and how you had a knack for repairing stuff, especially cars and aeroplanes thanks to your father. That he had been a military mechanic and that, after your mother had died when you were a baby, he had taken you with him whenever he had to move or do something for the military. That you had practically grown up on military bases and that joining wasn’t even a question, it was the only valid option in your life. And that one day the Marines had asked you to join their new helicopter crew and you couldn't say no, as you had wanted to feel closer to your father who had died a few years prior.

You had also talked about how you never met in New York (or about how Frank skillfully managed to keep you both apart) and about the fact that you guys have the same call sign (well, he and your helicopter). 

That was apparently enough for Frank to give you the “I know I said, I know Maria said, but do not fall in love with him”-speech one night while you were sitting on Billy’s bed, enjoying some alone time with Frank after some hectic weeks of training and strategy meetings.

“Don’t worry,” you had said and patted his back, “you know that my heart belongs to the sky. And, well, to Pete.”

Little did you know that Billy had just entered the tent when you said that.

-

"- hell Y/L/N!”

“It was my pleasure. But you know, maybe next time you could just thank me, one might think you don’t have any manners.”

“You could have died out there!"

"It was a test run Garth. If anything, we would have died together. Also, here I was thinking taking risks is your life motto. I mean, isn’t your name practically Gar-'With some good food I can conquer everything?'-field?"

"With good food, you can conquer everything… and everyone," he winked at you, “because even though the saying goes 'The way to a man's heart goes through his stomach' this applies to women and everybody else as well!"

You laughed and clapped his back as you pushed aside the plastic tarpaulin and let him pass you before leaving the tent as well. 

"Sounds like you gotta invite me for dinner sometime, as soon as we're stateside again!"

"Sounds like it!"

Remembering that you had to get something from your cot you turned around to get it, but stopped in your movement when you caught a glimpse of Billy, his fist tightly shut and his eyes glaring after Garth. Realizing that you were watching him, he turned around and stomped over to his own tent.

-

This repeated itself on multiple occasions. You talking to a fellow Marine or crew member and Billy seeing it and getting angry. Sometimes you realized it, sometimes you didn’t. Like the time in front of the dining tent. 

One of the Marines, you didn’t even know his name, had waved you over to give you a piece of mail that had found its way to him instead of you (apparently your names were similar enough to confuse the guy who had distributed them), apologizing for opening it already. 

You had just shaken your head, saying it wasn’t his fault and had turned the envelope around, causing a beautiful ring hanging on a thin necklace to fall into your hands. Smiling at it while suppressing some tears that were threatening to leave your eyes you had looked up at him. “I doubt you would be caught wearing this anyway.”

Of course, your luck had it for Billy to see him giving you the envelope and the necklace and to disappear through another entrance into the mess hall before he was able to hear you thank the guy for bringing you the envelope.

-

And then there was that time when you were pretty sure that Billy had become more to you. You weren’t sure what exactly, but more.

A Skype call for you had come through during the day, which Billy who had just passed by, accepted and told the man on the other side of the screen to wait while he got you. Sticking around he had to admit that he felt a little green now that he knew that not only Frank but even you had someone waiting for them when they came back. He wasn’t near enough to hear what was being said, but near enough to see you touch the computer before the connection ended and see you starting to cry terribly after that and rushing away, making Billy think the guy just broke up with you.

Frank had found you shortly afterwards (after Billy had gone to him to tell him what had happened, not being a very touchy-feely guy but thinking you might want someone around). He had talked to you, asked what had happened and you had repeated yourself, telling him that “my heart belongs to the sky now. Everybody I ever loved has left me, even though I am the one risking my life every day.”

Frank had just hugged you closer telling you that wasn't true. That he, Maria and the kids would always be there for you, that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of them now, no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but then Billy had entered the tent, telling Frank that Maria was asking for a Skype call and Frank requested for Billy to stay with you. 

You both had stayed quiet for some time except for your sniffles and hiccups that came from you crying earlier.

“You shouldn’t be crying. You have more than enough men falling on their knees for you.”

Confused you had lifted your head to look at him through teary eyes. “What?” “You shouldn’t be crying because of Pete. I heard Garth inviting you on a dinner date as soon as you’re both on leave again and saw the Marine in Frank’s squad giving you the neck-”

You had started to laugh at that. “Wait what? Please don’t tell me that you’re jealous!” 

“No! Just… just annoyed I guess. I get called ‘Billy the Beaut’ and get called out on my shit and… and then you come along and you’re allowed to dance on all of our noses?” 

You had snorted, wiping your nose on your T-Shirt sleeve. “Welcome to the world of a woman. As normally it's the other way around. Doesn't feel nice, right?” You had chuckled sarcastically. “Anyway, who’s Pete?” 

“Who’s… Who’s Pete? Your boy-, well, your now ex-boyfriend? The guy who just broke up with you over Skype?” 

Being reminded of that Skype call had hurt you, but you had laughed anyway. His stupid conclusions and obvious obliviousness had helped you think of other things. “I might have kissed a Pete once, but I might have lost the memo that he was my boyfriend because as far as I know, I never had one.” 

“But the man-” 

“Was my cousin's doctor and now close friend due to the time we had to spend together.” 

“But you told Frank something about your heart and Pete. Wait, was?”

Of course, he had heard that. “Pete's another name for our bird. Yes, our callsign is Blackbird, but the guys call him Pete and I guess it stuck. And yes, was. He just called me to tell me that my cousin died of cancer. No… please. I don’t need your condolences. I’ve been around death for quite a while. It feels almost normal already.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“I know… but what can I do? I cried and now I have to stand up and make sure that we don’t meet too quickly again, that's what she would want.” 

After that you both had sat there, quiet again, shoulder against shoulder, staring at the green plastic of the tent. Never realising that Billy, however unpleasant that situation might've been for him, never searched for a way out of it.

•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Taglist:

@blackbirddaredevil23 @runawayolives @readingslumpfanfic @broadwaybabe18 @thetallassgirl​

Join my taglist!

[nymph1e]

Okay fuck it, I gotta give in, I gotta watch through Supernatural. AFAIK, it's all on Netflix; at least I saw it on there in passing. Going into this, is there anything I should be aware of? Are there any episodes I should skip, any seasons? Should I start from season 4? I know the basic plot and concept, and I know it's very monster-of-the-week. But aside from me highkey shipping Destiel already, that's all.

Well my first piece of advice would be

but uh, let’s fucking ~GO~

If you’re actually jumping into this hellhole (why why why) don’t start at season 4. It’s tempting, but seasons 1-3 are some of the best shit in the whole show, also having context for Sam and Dean’s characters, and their relationship with the supernatural up to season 4 really highlights how fucking wild the introduction of angels is in the show. it’s basically a complete paradigm shift.

I would recommend you watch seasons 1-5 basically as is, though if you’re in a rush, season three is kinda skippable as long as you read a general synopsis. This is the original arc of the show and it shows. A friend of mine, @sammwinchestersdimples​ has said she’d have been fine if the show had ended there, and I can totally see her point. After season five things start to get... uhhhhh... not as good. THAT BEING SAID some really amazing seasons come later, and you’d get nowhere NEAR the Full Destiel Experience without them. What REALLY sucks is that all the seasons have good moments in them, so even if the seasons are generally bad, they’ll have episodes of GOLD. But fuck it, here’s a season-by-season breakdown.

Season 6 - This is the first... “eh” season. There’s a lot of character choices made in this one that I don’t like. The plot also doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with itself and it has no real main villain... or I guess it has a twist villain? This is also the season where they start chucking in the typical “no homos” you get when a show is queerbaiting, so they can point to the no homo bits and claim the queers are delusional.

Season 7 - The absolute WORST season, imo, is season 7, and it features Cas the least out of all the post season 4 seasons. You can tell the writers genuinely tried to write Cas off here. Not to mention the main plot is completely stupid. HOWEVER this is the season where we get golden things like Cas showing up to Dean’s prayer naked and covered in bees, and the episode where Charlie (best girl) is introduced and Dean subsequently has to flirt with a dude because she, a lesbian, cannot. (Wow so straight, Dean)

Episodes Not To Skip:

6x03 - A good Cas/plot episode (spot the famous destiel quote)

6x04 - A good all-round episode, also Jackles directed it so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

6x09 - This is one of the Batshit Episodes. Definitely watch.

6x10 - On the one hand, Cas episode. On the other, no homo, megstiel episode. Your choice.

6x11 - Good episode.

6x15 - THE ULTIMATE META EPISODE. Sam and Dean are teleported into Jared Padelecki and Jensen Ackles’ lives on the set of Supernatural and it is so batshit.

6x17 - Jolly good episode, and nice destiel content.

6x18 - Time travel episode, which is always fun.

6x19 - “Baby in a trenchcoat.” ‘Nough said.

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King is the destiel episode. It is infamous in the fandom, and for good reason. It’s not just a good destiel episode, but one of the best episodes in the series. With banging lines like “Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it.” and “For a brief moment, I was me again.”

6x21 & 6x22 - The last two episodes are kind of must-watches after TMWWBK, trust me.

Episodes Not To Skip:

7x01 & 7x02 - follows on from s6 final. You don’t wanna skip.

7x05 - Good general episode

7x06 - Again, good general episode. Sets ups plot for the season.

7x08 - Ugh. So the A plot for this episodes invoves Becky, the insane, stalker, fandom-insert character, roofie Sam into marrying her (and it’s heavily implied they have sex - and it’s treated as a joke despite being LITERAL RAPE). BUT this is the episode where Garth is introduced and Garth is fucking amazing. So. IDEK.

7x10 & 7x11 - Plot important.

7x12 - Time travel episode! See if you can catch the bi!dean moment ;)

7x17 - Cas is back! Or is he???

7x18 - GARTH EPISODE

7x20 - CHARLIE!!!! WATCH THIS EPISODE!!!!

7x21 - Cas episode. It’s... interesting.

7x22 - The tagline for this episode is “Sam and Dean seek out an Alpha” 😭. It’s a Cas episode.

7x23 - If Cas weren’t in this episode I’d say skip it.

Season 8 - A fantastic season. If The Man Who Would Be King is the destiel episode, season 8 is the destiel season. When you watch this, DM me so I can RANT about all the amazing destiel this season. It’s also, again, a great season in general I remember watching it as it was airing it was soooo good. You have the arrival of the Bunker, you have Kevin and Charlie being awesome, some nice sprinkles of batshit episodes, BEST BOY BENNY rocks up in all his glory. Fucking epic season. Only downside it Sam’s character takes a bit of a dive. I’d recommend you watch through all of this season.

Episodes To AVOID:

7x13 - I literally pretend this stupid fucking episode doesn’t exist. Basically Dean impregnates a woman with Super Pregnancy and she has a daughter who becomes an adult within hours and then dies. The end. Everyone hated it. Man fuck this episode. Of course it was written by Buckleming.

Season 9 - Sadly, after how amazing season 8 was, and how spectactularly season 9 was set up, this season is a disappointment. It’s an ok season. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it’s just a bit all over the place.

I was going to give you the normal episode list to not skip, but looking through, most episodes this season should be watched for one reason or another. Either they’re Cas heavy, they do some interesting character building, or they feature one of the awesome side characters like Charlie or Jody.

This season is probably the height of the war in the writers’ room about destiel. Some writers want to no homo the whole thing and back way off, while other writers want to lean into it hard. So in the same season where SPOILER Cas loses his virginity to a random reaper woman and Dean kicks Cas out of the bunker to fend for himself, you also have Cas’ fatal flaw used as propaganda against him by Metatron being that he’s "in love” with humanity Dean. /SPOILER Whatever you do DON’T SKIP THE FINAL FEW EPISODES. TRUST ME.

Season 10 - Haha oh dear. This season is likely the biggest for wasted potential. You saw the end of season 9, right? You go “HOLY SHIT YES LET’S DO THIS” and then they do... season 10. They really became experts at setting up an awesome season only to fuck it up in delivery, right? Again, not a bad season, per se.

Episodes To AVOID:

9x05 - In which Dean wants to fuck a dog. I am not joking. I wish I were. Basically a spell-gone-wrong makes Dean doglike. it’s weird. it’s batshit. Not the good kind.

Season 11 - Season 11 is a pretty good season! They tried to give Dean a female love interest but Jackles said  ✨No✨ and played Dean as brainwashed and uncomfortable the whole time and I love him for it. Of special note this season is the episode Baby (11x04), which is my favourite episode in the series! It’s funny, it’s heartwarming, it’s weirdly shot. I love it! We also get casifer this season which is awesome! Some episodes are skippable, but they’re generally good episodes.

Episodes NOT to Skip (ignore the 10 year special):

10x01 & 10x02 - Great episodes, Dean in this is *chefs kiss*.

10x04 - *sighs* Fan Fiction. A 200th episode that is simultaneously a love letter to fans and laughing in fans’ faces. I’ve never liked this episode for the second-hand embarressment of it all, but you should watch it and see if you like it.

10x06 - Pretty good episode.

10x07 - Jody AND Donna! Fantastic episode!

10x08 - Dadstiel rears his ugly head. I fucking love how Cas adopts two (2) kids over the course of the series and in both cases Dean eventually goes “ah fuck, I guess I gotta co-parent this thing”. Also we get some KILLER destiel this episode. hey go on a DATE and Cas tells Dean he’s a good person ^_^

10x09 - Good episode. Much destiel.

10x10 - Charlie episode!

10x11 - Teen!Dean! Need I say more?

OK so I just had a look, and you really just need to watch every episode from this point in the season on. Enjoy!

Season 12 - Another example of a TERRRIBLE season, is season 12. Season 12 is also one of the most destiel-heavy seasons in the show. You see the issue? Like, it’s got a stupid plot that makes no sense and has no fucking cohesion, but you also FINALLY have the writers going “fuck it” and all in on the destiel. After this point Dean never has another non-Cas love interest and vice versa, they stop giving us whiplash from baiting and no-homoing. IF the conspiracy theory is true, and the end of the show is shit because of executive meddling, this season is the one where the writers decided they were gonna push for destiel endgame.

I gotta tell you the truth, I skipped this season in my rewatch, so all of my memories are from years ago when it first came out. This seson was the last that I watched live (for a reason). Should you skip it? No. But I’m not well informed enough about this season that I can point out what episodes you should or should not watch.

Season 13 - Congratulations! You’ve reached the point where the show’s gotten consistently good again! (just in time for most of the audience to have already left lol). We start off with SPOILERS Dean mourning Cas like he’s lost the will to fucking live. I’m talking complete despondence, praying for Cas to come back, lashing out in anger at everything, one of the darkest points we’ve ever seen him at on the show, then pulling a 180 and being super happy the second Cas comes back. /SPOILERS They also introduce Jack, who is the SECOND child Cas decides to adopt and Dean ends up co-parenting (Sam too). In fact, Jack is explicity Sam, Cas, and Dean’s kid.

Season 14 - Another good one. My only issue is where they decided to take the plot at the end of the season. I’d recommend watching it all, regardless.

Season 15 - And so we’ve come to the end of the line. This season was... well it was actually pretty good. It started off with what we hellers lovingly refer to as the “divorce arc” where Cas and Dean have a big blow up, and Cas leaves, but that ends with Dean praying on his knees for forgiveness and a nice hug. Honestly this season you can cut the tension between the two of them like a knife, and you can tell Misha and Jensen were doing it deliberately.

I’d say watch up until 15x18, then you decide what to do with the last two episodes. If you want you can watch them to understand just why people put their conspiracy theory hats on, or you can send me another ask and I’ll rec you some post 15x18 finale fics! There’s one fic that’s a replacement for 15x20 written in script format that is particularly good.

Anyway that’s it. It’s kind of left me a little sad, to break down the show in this way. Especially coming up to season 15 nd remembering all the wasted potential. Honestly if you do decide to watch the show, good luck. I hope you enjoy it. I’m also glad you never had to be put through the bullshit false hope that came about after 15x18.

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

Realm of the Quarantine Reread End-of-Book Questionnaire: Assassin’s Quest

Any differences between your first/previous reading experience and this one?

Keep in mind I’m writing this months after finishing the book lol (it’s mental illness innit). I have LOTS of notes to go off but yeah, things aren’t as fresh in my mind overall. With that said the biggest difference I can think of between my first and second experience with AQ is my feelings towards Kettricken. I think the first time around reading you know that Fitz is an unreliable narrator but you are still limited by his viewpoint so you can get a bit trapped seeing things the way he does. For this reason, I think I pretty much just forgave Kettricken when he did on my first read, whereas on this read I was like……. Waiting for her to actually apologise and show some sympathy towards Fitz and it just…. Never happened.

Like, don’t get me wrong, I still love Kettricken as a character and I fully recognise that she has been traumatised. I don’t expect her to be nice or act rationally, and in the case of being willing to take Nettle for the crown… It’s cold but she’s doing what she feels she has to. My issue is - do what you have to, but don’t expect Fitz to understand or forgive you (same with Starling). But I think what bothered me the most was how Kettricken would constantly confide in Fitz and break down to him and he was always there to let her do so, yet she NEVER gives Fitz the chance to do the same. The one time he does “open up” in a sense is when she forces him to air out his traumas in front of everyone, and she didn’t show him any sympathy for what he’d been through then or later. She has been through hell, absolutely, but while her plight may not have been any better than Fitz’s it certainly wasn’t any worse. She pretty much had two modes in this book: completely cold or a crying wreck - but she was only ever crying for herself. She lets Fitz console her but she never consoles him. Again, this is a result of her own trauma and I don’t expect her to act any differently, but it just reaffirmed for me that while she and Fitz care for each other deeply it is not an equal relationship. Fitz feels an obligation to serve her and she - knowingly or not - takes advantage of that. Like, after realising that this is their dynamic it is so obvious that the same is true in Royal Assassin as well, and it will be interesting to see how it changes (or doesn’t) in Tawny Man as I don’t remember it well enough to say.

Must reiterate: Kettricken is still a great character and I still have a lot of respect for her, unfortunately she just falls into the overfull camp of people who love Fitz but have an unhealthy power dynamic with him.

The other big difference I noticed was that the Verity stuff just wasn’t as devastating this time. Not because it was any less sad but it just didn’t tear out my heart like it did the first time. That’s not a fault with the writing at all, I think it’s just the fact that, knowing what would happen to Verity and that we wouldn’t see the real Verity again, I kind of already let go of him at the end of Royal Assassin.

Something you can’t believe you forgot

I guess more of a misinterpretation/wishful thinking but like, realising that there is no passage explicitly stating that Fitz and the Fool were actually spooning in the mountains murdered me and spat on my corpse.

Oh also!!! Fitz yeeting himself out the window at Tradeford castle jskaskjf

Favourite character introduction moments/scenes

I love Kettle in general and the way we’re introduced to her as a cranky old lady sets her up perfectly

Favourite character arcs

Man they’re all so fucking sad lol but I guess the Fool? He goes from thinking Fitz is dead and his purpose failed to reuniting with Fitz, their relationship growing into something really real for the first time, and actually completing his mission - at least for now lol. This book is really the first time you get to see the Fool be properly vulnerable. Even when he was getting beaten up by Regal’s guards he always had his veneer of snark and superiority to hide behind - and I doubt when he went through his sicknesses at Buckkeep he would have revealed his weakness to anyone in order to be helped. But in the mountains he lets so much of that facade of the King’s Fool fall away - at least when it’s just him and Fitz. When he and Fitz meet again he lets Fitz see his grief and pain and hopelessness and joy as the Fool looks after Fitz, and then later when it’s the Fool who needs looking after he lets Fitz look after him. When was the last time the Fool had anyone really care for him like that, ya know? Had someone protect him purely out of love? Ouch dude!!!!

Also he gets to kiss Fitz at the end so good for him!!!!!!!!!! Be gay ride dragons!!

Favourite quote/s

“I would kill Regal. It only seemed fair. He had killed me first.”

“I had looked into the heart of my enemy. I still could not comprehend him.”

“The more I drank, the less tolerable my situation seemed. And the more intolerable I became to my friends.”

“I had never thought to be disdained by a tree.”

“The Fool, the Fool, only the Fool. I sought for him. I almost found him. Oh, he was passing strange, and surpassing strange. He darted and eluded me, like a bright gold carp in a weedy pool, like the motes that dance before one’s eyes after being dazzled by the sun. As well to clutch at the moon’s reflection in a still midnight pond as to seek a grip on that bright mind. I knew his beauty and his power in the briefest flashes of insight. In a moment I understood and marvelled at all that he was, and in the next I had forgotten that understanding.”

“When you can either laugh or cry, you might as well laugh.” - the Fool

Favourite relationships

Fitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolbahslbghabfhalgngjba 

Also fitz and nighteyes (speaking of which, Nighteyes’ arc in this book is also fascinating and surprisingly complex) and Fitz/Nighteyes/Fool mwah magnifico chef’s kiss

Favourite setting

Kelsingra baybeyyy. I remember the first time reading this having no fucking clue what was happening in that chapter but I guess it was the gay agenda all along

Favourite chapter

It’s gotta be the chapter where Fitz and the Fool reunite, right? Catch me just gradually losing my grip on reality with every lingering stare 

Most loved character

Foooooooooool

Most hated character

Ya know, for a minute I was actually wondering if I would like Starling this time round but yeah no lol. She was actually okay for a while but as soon as she sold Fitz/Nettle out she became The Worst, just as I remembered her. It’s not even because she betrays Fitz but because, like Kettricken, she expects Fitz to forgive her for it, to the point of running to tattle to the queen because Fitz isn’t giving her enough attention (I’m also not impressed with Kettricken for actually getting involved instead of just telling her to grow up). Not to mention her constantly misgendering/gendering (??) the Fool or just assuming the Fool’s gender and loudly fucking proclaiming it to everybody is just truly fucking disgusting. Like I cannot even explain how furious I was reading her incessantly using she/her pronouns for the Fool despite no confirmation that her theory is right or that the Fool is comfortable with this and despite EVERYONE ELSE using he/him pronouns. God I’m mad now lol. She just acts like a spoilt brat and it makes my blood boil. But that’s probably because I have known many people like this so… Good character writing lol congrats

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimised by Robin Hobb (most heartbreaking and/or visceral moments)

The whole first chapter/s are just so heavy and carry on that gut wrenching feeling from the end of Royal Assassin. Fitz just has no real desire to live and watching him systematically severing the last few ties he has to his human life is just so sad.

Even though I wasn’t as attached to Verity this time, his goodbye to Fitz still made me cry

As did Fitz giving Kettle her skill back

Verity using Fitz’s body to have sex with Kettricken really got to me this time, mostly because I either didn’t notice the first time or had forgotten just how much it affects Fitz. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to acknowledge Dutiful as his son when the event that brought that fact into being was so fucked up and traumatic. It’s really upsetting.

Burrich saying he almost took Fitz to Chivalry and he should have never let the Farseers take Fitz just …… breaks my heart. Just seeing Burrich so raw like that in general is so unusual it really takes you aback.

Details, observations, spoilery notes made with the benefit of the full picture

Strap in lads this part is lonnnngggggggg

Is it bad to immediately want to cry just from seeing “Sandsedge” on the map and thinking of Sandsedge brandy

I never really thought about how poor Hap didn’t get the real Fitz all those years and how their relationship could have been if Fitz hadn’t been partially forged

Pls I have no idea why but to picture someone as emotionally repressed as Fitz actually sitting down and writing about his life makes me want to fucking cryyyyeeeee

Fitz in the prologue talks about needing a purpose as something to distract himself from sinking [into his chronic pain, mental illness and addiction] and boy howdy if that ain’t relatable. As someone with mental illness and chronic pain Fitz is just painfully relatable way too often.

“I have never forgiven myself the triumph I ceded him when I took poison and died.” Fitz :(((( my guy :((((((( forgive yourself for surviving however you could baby!!!!!

This book mentions Bingtown providing slaves to Chalced

It’s so funny to me when people expect Fitz to have social skills as if he didn’t literally live as a fucking wolf for weeks at a time. It’s a miracle he bloody speaks

The state Fitz is in at the beginning of this book was literally Burrich’s greatest fear for him, yet Burrich doesn’t just say I told you so and leave. He stays, is patient and even optimistic.

“He (Burrich) is not bigger than I.” Why does this feel so wrong lol??? I just can’t picture Fitz as bigger than Burrich

“When you were younger and not supposed to go into taverns without me…” So it’s fine if the child goes into taverns and gets drunk as long as you’re also there. Got it, Burrich.

Fitz calling Chade “the grey one” wow get rekd old man river

Seeing Chade and Burrich interact is so bizarre

Fitz is still having seizures at the beginning of this book! I had forgotten that

God okay so idk if I can articulate this point super well but the whole thing of Fitz going through this extensive abuse and then essentially becoming an animal feels like a metaphor for the way your brain’s “higher” needs and functions just shut off sometimes under certain levels of stress. Like in order to cope with the trauma you don’t think about concepts, or long-term goals, or other people. You just take care of your basic needs - food, sleep, shelter, water - long enough that you start to feel safe and secure again, at which point your brain can open up a bit more and allow you to really think again; to want again, to plan again etc. Like obviously literally becoming an animal is a heightened version of reality, but the functionality of it is the same; our wounds and our fear stop us from fully embodying ourselves.

Burrich be like, Fitz was getting way too dependent on drugs before all this so let’s steer clear of those. :) LET’S GET HIM ABSOLUTELY SHITFACED INSTEAD

I  love how Fitz has his own unique relationship with Lacey and she’s not just Patience’s servant in his mind

Fitz talking about how even his memories from before his time in the dungeons are soiled by his trauma :( baby boy

Dude it’s so rich Chade lecturing Fitz about not making a life for himself, having friends or just chilling out like???? WHO TRAINED HIM TO BE AN ASSASSIN CHADE?? Like I get your point but what the hell kind of life did you think he was gonna have? Who ever took the time to teach him the importance of making connections with people for their own sake, and when would he have ever had the time anyway? I think Chade himself doesn’t actually know what he expects from Fitz.

Fitz saying he’s bad at making decisions because he’s never actually been allowed to make any is literally a point I’ve made lol. This is what happens when you teach teenagers how to murder in lieu of any basic life skills.

Burrich + Chiv were luv at first sight. No I will not elaborate.

“We kept you a boy, looked after you too much.” Huh??????? Fitz was never fucking sheltered lol. He didn’t have autonomy. There’s a difference.

I’m so fucking glad Fitz hugged Burrich before he left and that they actually left off on okay-ish terms. I didn’t remember that and it vaguely dulls the blow of knowing we don’t see Burrich again til Fool’s Fate (and that he thinks Fitz is dead the entire time between now and then).

“If I shaved my hair back from my brow” bitch disgusting

“Honey was the older of the two women. Perhaps my age.” jskfjnajgbl my guy those aren’t women then those are children!!!!!! U freak

I was wondering for ages why Fitz doesn’t mention the Fool like literally at all bc that’s so unusual right? Even in Assassin’s Apprentice he thinks of him when he goes to Moonseye and just in general the Fool usually enters Fitz’s thoughts pretty frequently. So why now, when Fitz doesn’t even know if the Fool is okay, is he just not thinking about him? And then I realised that that is exactly why. Because the only two people from his old life he doesn’t think about are the two people whose fates he knows nothing of: Kettricken and the Fool. So he can let his mind wander to think what Patience and Lacey might be up to at Buckkeep, or who Molly is with or whatever, because he knows they are all safe. But in such a fragile state I don’t think he can bring himself to really wonder whether Kettricken and the Fool made it to their destination - he probably doesn’t really believe they could have, and that is far too painful a road to go down when you are trying not to think at all.

I know the first act of this book is slow and that bothers some people, but I think it is so necessary, not only for Fitz’s arc but also because it really demonstrates just how severe the situation has gotten with the red ships and forged ones AND it shows just how destructive a king Regal is. Without this perspective it would probably be much harder to buy that the extreme measures taken at the end of the book are really worth the sacrifice.

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit A: when Honey is coming onto him, all he can think about is Molly.

Fitz is so scared of the Forged ones :( his trauma affects everything. He has no faith in himself and less heart for the violence than ever.

Speaking of trauma metaphors: the way Fitz tends to drift off into the wit or Skill after a traumatic experience is… pretty much just dissociation but magique

I forgot that witted folk can apparently communicate with each other mentally, not just with animals

“Her head was the size of a bushel basket.” Ah, yes, a bushel basket, a thing whose size we are all intimately familiar with.

Fitz finally finds others like him and even then he is not fully accepted. Told he is doing the wit wrong. Othered by the Others. It’s the queer experience innit.

Also forgot that apparently the forged are attracted to the wit as well as the Skill?

“I wondered if I had as many wolf mannerisms as they had halk and bear.” Yeah no probably not you only bloody LIVED as a wolf, Fitz.

Okay I know it doesn’t need saying but Patience is just so fucking cool!!!!!

Jesus fucking christ, Fitz skilling out to Molly when he knows Will knows he’s alive and is looking for him is just… so dumb. So so dumb. I know he’s just fixating on her because he’s miserable and she’s like this unsullied thing he had before everything went wrong but holy moly is it frustrating 

Not to mention he doesn’t connect the dots between the fact that Burrich went to “help a friend” and every time he reaches out for Molly he sees Burrich sajkdbshkhja dude

Nighteyes leaving just goes to show that Fitz cannot rely solely on Nighteyes for companionship. No matter how innately the same they are they are equally as innately different. Fitz needs Nighteyes but he shouldn’t have JUST Nighteyes (which is why he, Nighteyes and the Fool are the holy trinity). When Nighteyes leaves, Fitz is in way too fragile a state to be left alone, but Nighteyes cannot think of the future or what might happen. All he knows is he’ll be back at some point and that’s all that matters.

“My anger fed my competence” whatever you need to tell yourself sweetie

I think I had blocked out the fact the Regal was keeping animals trapped in filthy cages so they could ravage people in the king’s circle uggggghhhhhhhhh I hate him

Fitz is down on himself saying that without Shrewd’s largesse, Chade’s information and Verity’s protection his idea of himself has been stripped away and that he’s not actually competent etc. but like. This is an extreme situation!! You’re literally alone in the wilderness with nothing and no one!! Who would thrive in this situation? And nobody gets by without help anyway! The people in our lives do define us to an extent. You don’t have to be able to stand 100% on your own at all times with zero resources to be considered capable. It’s human to depend on others. Yes I am chiding myself as much as Fitz here :))))

Burrich’s earring is the repressed gay earring. No I will not elaborate.

Fitz refusing to sell Burrich’s earring is frustrating yet something I would 100% do lol

Direct from my notes: Celery hiding out in caves?? Bad bitch

“I felt I was within the flames looking deeply into the Fool’s eyes” um okay gay

It’s actually surprising that Fitz admits he would not have gone after Molly even if he had known she was pregnant when she left. On one hand so self aware yet this doesn’t stop him from completely idealising their relationship.

And then you have Molly who says he was supposed to come after her “so she could forgive him”, that he was supposed to be the one to light the candles for her childbirth etc. The fact that she in any way thought he was mature enough to be a father just shows how little they really knew each other.

Burrich treating Molly like a horse while delivering Nettle is way funnier than it has a right to be jskakjasd makes me think of Dwight treating Phyllis’ back injury in The Office lol

The first thing Burrich notices about Nettle is that she has Chivalry’s brow are you fucking kidding me. Gay!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit B: He had no interest in Tassin whatsoever until she literally started kissing him. At this point his body reacted, which is normal, but as soon as he got a second to actually think about it he stopped, because for him it would not be satisfying to sleep with someone he didn’t have feelings for.

“It seemed to take years for the dried beans and lentils to soften.” Okay mood

I love how Fitz just assumes Molly will take him back. “I have a woman and child awaiting me.” Says who bitch?

Small ferret? More like big legend

Ya know, we give Fitz so much shit but honestly with so much physical, mental and emotional stress on this journey how can we expect his mental faculties to be at 100%? I wouldn’t be making good decisions either, in fact I would be long dead.

Starling telling Nik that the earring once belonged to Chivalry is truly a smooth brain move

“Do not fear, little brother, I am here to take care of you again.” Words can’t explain how much I love Nighteyes and how often his dialogue makes me smile :’)

It’s so cute how Nighteyes is worried about Molly and Nettle until he knows that Burrich is taking care of them

It’s really interesting when Fitz claims “I’d rather be with Molly even if it meant rocking a crying baby in the middle of the night” because, well, he’s literally made other claims to the contrary, saying he wouldn’t have gone with her even if he’d known she was pregnant. Because at the end of the day as much as Fitz is compelled by others to do work for the greater good, I think deep down a lot of the time it is what he would do anyway. Like I really don’t think he could actually enjoy being with Molly knowing that the world is burning down around them. He would want to get out there and help somehow; not only to secure their own future but to reduce other people’s suffering as well. He’s an empathetic boy even though he’d like to be selfish.

Every time Fitz calls Molly his wife I lose ten years off my life

Again, I understand why he’s thinking like this, but Fitz’s ownership of Molly is just so uncomfortable. The fact that he can’t imagine her not having a place ready and waiting for him in her life when he returns just illustrates that she is not a fully realised person to him. She is just a comforting idea.

Oh yes, it was definitely Starling’s “pillowtalk” that got you captured and not the fact that you fit the exact description of the witted bastard right down to having Chivalry’s earring and a whole ass wolf

Somehow forgot that Jhaampe is basically a city of tents with only a few permanent buildings and people constantly coming and going

Fitz’s first words to the Fool are “I’ve come to you.” I’m gonna fucking die

Literally every single word from the moment Fitz realises it’s the Fool and starts describing him is a full body assault and personal attack I am seeking reparations

God the tenderness, the angst, the relief……… shall i pass away

“I doubted he was much taller, but his body was no longer a child’s.” My dude this is a gay awakening if I ever saw one

Fitz be like *spends 87 pages describing the Fool in painstaking detail* anyway I love being a heterosexual male

I’ve heard ppl cite Fitz’s descriptions of Kettricken as evidence of a crush (hard disagree) but literally nothingggggg even comes close to the way he describes the Fool. Not just this once but over and over again it’s insane.

“Talk fell off between us. The bottle of brandy was empty. We were reduced to silence, staring at one another drunkenly.” skjakfnajghajgnaLNGJ is it gay to silently gaze into thine homie’s eyes

The Fool protecting Fitz from everyone - especially Starling - in Jhaampe is often hilarious and always heartwarming

Realising Fitz was skinny enough for the Fool to lift on his own ahhh no wonder he said the famous “When I recall how beautiful you were” line, Fitz is a total wreck

I love that the Fool actually gives Chade shit for his plan to take Nettle. I love him.

“Too few folk cared for me. I could not hate a single one of them.” Oh, Fitz :(

I always wonder how the Fool really feels about Molly. Is he jealous? Does he compare himself to this woman Fitz idolises and he doesn’t know? Does he know that Fitz is barking up the wrong tree or is he stuck thinking Molly must really be Fitz’s soulmate since he won’t shut up about how much he loves her and can’t wait to get back to her? He just never really lets on how it makes him feel when Fitz has relationships with women. We know Fitz gets jealous of the Fool (for litch rally like no reason lol), so with the Fool being much more honest with himself/in general about his love for Fitz and having much more legitimate reason to be jealous, is he? Or is it just something he’s made his peace with, that these women give Fitz something that he cannot? Is he okay with that cos he has to be or does he have a different, less monogamous view of love and relationships (he does have three parents after all). I dunnoooo dude I just have so many questions. Like obviously - OBVIOUSLY - if Fitz and the Fool didn’t have romantic feelings for each other before, there is no doubting that romantic feelings appeared the moment Fitz appeared in the Fool’s hut. Fitz won’t admit that but mere chapters later the Fool is talking about how he loves Fitz in every way so like. He knows. So how does he feel when Fitz is calling out for Molly in his sleep, or openly speaking of seeking her out when all this is over, and lying to the Fool to protect Molly and his daughter. Really makes u think!!!!

Fitz reuniting with Sooty and going to see her every day in Jhaampe is so cuuuute and made me so happy. Sooty is a good girl :’)

Fitz be like *leans against the table where the Fool is carving and watches his fingers at work like a true repressed gay*

Verity is literally so strong???? He submerged himself in skill and was able to pull himself back from the stream can u imagine? Go off king!

Bro I literally can’t with the Fool mentioning Jofron so casually and Fitz immediately thinking wow oh my god they’re definitely fucking oh my god the Fool has a girlfriend - Fitz sweetie calm down

I love how Fitz and the Fool just naturally walk together :))) and Nighteyes babysitting Kettle is so cute

Molly never once says that she misses Fitz. She says she always expected him to do the right thing, to come after her and not leave her alone with a child. But she doesn’t look back on their time together fondly or have much positive to say about him as a person. And all that is fair, but it’s also just… Not really the behaviour of someone who’s been separated from their soulmate. It’s more just someone who’s been left in a shitty position by someone they cared about but hardly knew.

Fitz asking the Fool what is between him and Starling when they’re literally just being civil is sooooo fucking funny. Not everyone finds the Fool as irresistible as you do, Fitz.

The Fool just casually finding a pretext to call Fitz the light of his life

Fitz telling Kettricken firmly that he will not travel if the Fool is ill is one of the only times he ever puts his foot down with her GEE I WONDER WHY

I’ve said it before I’ll say it again…… there really do be something about the way Fitz can’t meet the Fool’s eyes………. It’s not like they’re weird and colourless anymore like they used to be!!!

The Fool already talking about Clerres in this book!

Fitz and the Fool and Nighteyes playing in the stream is too fucking pure omg, it’s what they deserve

And then Starling has to bloody ruin it bc she’s homophobique

But seriously, Fitz actually lets go for the first time in ages and has a nice evening only for Starling to go tattling to Kettricken, and Kettricken having the gall to confront Fitz about it. And then Fitz solves the problem by saying he doesn’t disdain her when like!! He has every right to!!!! She sold him out, sold his daughter out. She never even apologised but instead has just been totally petty and self-righteous and stirring up trouble amongst the group. She hasn’t earned or even asked for his forgiveness. So fitting that she’s the one constantly judging Fitz for his relationship with Lord Golden in Tawny Man lol, she just cannot let Fitz and the Fool be the queer icons they are!!!

Verrrrrrrrrrry interesting that Fitz only “suddenly missed the human warmth and comfort” of Starling taking his arm or sleeping against him literally IMMEDIATELY after the plumbing and love confrontation with the Fool. I mean he has been doing all of those things with the Fool (sleeping together, walking arm in arm etc.) so it’s not about human touch at all, it’s about convincing himself that a WOMAN’S touch is somehow inherently different.

He does the same thing with Starling as with Kettricken. She technically apologises but it’s not sincere and that’s not why he forgives her. Same as Kettricken, she tells her sob story and he can’t hold onto his anger. It makes sense, but it’s just very toxic. It would be nice if at least one person would really recognise how much they’ve hurt Fitz and really, genuinely want to atone for it, or apologise without expecting forgiveness. The onus should not be on Fitz to forgive Starling but on Starling to grow up and not need Fitz to like her in order to remain civil and do what they have to. Also “I do not find your wit bond offensive” has the same energy as someone telling you out of nowhere like “It’s fine that you’re gay :)” like wow thank u?? lol

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit C: “I wanted her with a desperation that had nothing to do with love, and even, I believe, little to do with lust.”

“By his love he is betrayed, and his love betrayed also.” So fate agrees with me, Fitz and the Fool are in love? :)

Anytime the potential that Fitz might have to choose between Molly and Nighteyes I lose brain cells. That’s ur brother Fitz!!! It’s not even a choice!! How dare u

It’s just sooooo intentionally laid out for us in this book that Fitz’s relationship with Molly really wasn’t good or healthy and that his fixation on it is misguided, and I think that’s why I struggled sooooo hard with the ending of Fool’s Fate, because it kind of implied the exact opposite. I’m hoping on this reread I will pick up on it being laid out as a result of Fitz getting his memories/teen feelings back rather than it just feeling like a lowkey retcon, but I guess we’ll see lol

“I felt I was a bit in love with him, you know. That sort of lift to the heart.” the confirmation that the Fool KNOWS HOW IT FEELS TO BE IN LOVE sends me deep into the swamps goodbyeeeeeeeeeeee

“The one who loves him best will betray him most foully.” So fate agrees, the Fool loves Fitz best :)

“You do love me! … Before, it was words. I always feared it was born out of pity.” Godddddd Foooooooooool!!!!!!!!!!! 

Everything about Fitz, the Fool and Nighteyes meeting in the skill for the first time is just truly perfect iconic unparalleled.

Fitz’s love for Verity hurts my heart so much. Just think of the relationship they could have had if they weren’t stupid royals.

Kettle’s whole speech about Fitz and Molly… Just yes to every word.

Look I’m just gonna say it… The way Burrich reacts to Molly’s advances … like I know it’s probably not intentional but it just reads as very much fitting in with my headcanon that he is gay. As soon as she makes it clear she wants to sleep with him he like leaps across the room lol. I do believe he cares for her and loves her in his way, but it does feel mostly like he’ll just do whatever he needs to to care for her and the baby.  Sowwy

I wonder why the Fool wasn’t as affected by his giving up of memories to Girl-on-a-Dragon?? Or was he, and he just gets them back before we see him again in Tawny Man?

“Take my hurt that I never knew my father, take my hours of staring up at his portrait when the great hall was empty and I could do so alone.” um this is so fucking sad

It was the Fool who sent Starling to find Fitz after Verity uses his body and again I have to ask, wtf is going on in your mind, Fool!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit D: Even once he actually sleeps with Starling he has no enthusiasm about it, he just kind of goes along with it, likely to prove to himself that he has really let go of his past/Molly. 

I always wonder why the Fool leaves now. Is it because he thinks their work is done and doesn’t want to risk messing things up by hanging around his catalyst like at the end of Tawny Man? Does he intend to come back and find Fitz again but get sidetracked by a lead or a new dream? Like it’s just weird because at first he was like “Prophet and Catalyst stick together” and was gonna stay with Fitz - or was that just an excuse because he was obsessed with Girl-on-a-Dragon? Fool u spicy lil enigma

It’s blood and the wit that wakes the stone dragons so does that mean King Wisdom was witted? Or is that obvious lol

Fitz isn’t even bothered by the Fool’s kiss, just shocked. I am looking.

Patience shouting orders at Verity-as-Dragon is beautiful ksjjk

Of courrrrrssse Burrich names his first son Chivalry

In the epilogue, the Fool is the only one Fitz actually says he misses. Exquisite.

I know some people have an issue with Regal’s death but personally I find it delicious

Okay that’s all (I say as if this wasn’t 139841989 pages long). See y’all in 92 years when my sister finally starts reading Liveship!

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation

Summary: Levi’s grey eyes watched her seriously, and with caution. He was giving her all his attention, focused on the words that were about to leave her mouth. Hanji thought that was the actual reason why they were so close. Because when no one cared to hear a word from her Levi listened to her telling stories of gods and goddesses, heroes and villains, ancient people and ancient folks, tales of love and tales of hatred. When no one bothered seeing her colours, Levi sat down in front of her and let her paint everything she ever wanted.

Chapters: 2/?

link to AO3 

link to second chapter

In short a Levihan Childhood Friends AU in which I plan to enjoy using quotes from Shakespeare a lot if I make it that far that is. 

The boy sits on top of the rooftop.  

Hanji wonders why she is so fascinated by the view of a boy about her age. All he does is watching above and there is not even a token of emotion written on his face. He looks like he is reading a book in which he is not a bit interested, yet the mere fact that he is holding pages in his palms is enough for him.

She hasn’t seen anyone who has spared just a few minutes of their precious time to watch the sky, through her eleven years of a lifetime that is. Just like she hasn’t seen anyone going crazy when they find out that there was a frog in Indonesia which had no lungs, so it breathed entirely through its skin. Oh, it was so very exciting and bewitching and she had barely slept dreaming about it. Hanji would die to see that frog. She had begged her parents for about a week for them to take her to Indonesia. Mommy, mommy, please! I want to go there. I need to see that frog. It is breathing through its skin mom. How fascinating is that? Hanji, darling you know you can’t. You have school. I don’t have school in the summer! But Indonesia is so far away honey. It on the other side of the world. Oh, oh! That’s even better. I want to go to the other side of the world! Mommy please, please!

Too bad her efforts had given no fruit. She hasn’t given up on her dream yet, though. She just had to postpone it for a little while.

She approaches the boy cautiously. Because maybe this is his area and it is her first time here, so she doesn’t want to be seen as an invader. She had been walking around the town aimlessly when she came across this abandoned building. Its construction is uncompleted, there are no windows and doors, and the orange bricks on the walls are uncovered, free of paint. Hanji knew that sneaking into a hollow, and a relatively eery building was sort of perilous, but it was also thrilling. It had made her feel like she was a member of the Paul Street Boys. Although the setting was kind of distinct and she was alone. But it had never stopped her from discovering. And when she had climbed the concrete, grey stairs she had found the mystery boy here.

There is the not-quite-unfortunate fact that she cannot get along well with boys. They are rude, and filthy and egoistic. They walk around like they are the reincarnations of Achilles like no one is good enough for them. They are no sons of gods or goddesses. How pathetic. But she senses that there is something different with this one. Because he watches the sky, and the stars stare down at him. Hanji feels like she is observing a painting or reading Percy Jackson for the first time. It causes her nerves to stand, her insides to shake and she knows she cannot hold herself back. A step away from the rabbit hole, she imagines and feels like this is Wonderland and she is fool but also curious enough to fall down.

“Hi!” She twitters suddenly.

The boy doesn’t seem surprised or taken aback at hearing someone talking to him out of the blue. Maybe he had already known that Hanji was here. It only makes him more intriguing and Hanji hardly stops herself from bouncing on her feet. For a moment he observes her. His eyes are the colour of the moon, argent but they also have a touch of blue. Not too light but not too dark either. Closer to the sky when the night just begins to settle down. More like it is right now.

“Hey,” he says, dryly.

No rejection. That’s a good start.

“May I sit?”

The boy merely shrugs then turns his gaze back at the sky. Hanji takes it as a positive reaction and sits down next to him, carefully putting some distance away between herself and the boy. She opts to watch the view spread out before her first. This is a partially remote area of the town. The buildings are disorderly, and the streets do not seem fairly clean. Hanji wants to travel her hand on top of the buildings to feel the ups and downs of the rooftops on her palm. The image makes her giggle to herself. Ah, how nice it would be, wouldn’t it? Too bad it was impossible.

She feels the boy giving her a side glance, but he makes no remarks.

“Are you counting the stars?” She asks as she tilts her head back to watch them. There aren’t so many yet, but it would be hard to keep track of the numbers.

“No,” he replies. Curt and clear. He is not the one to talk, is he? Hanji muses inside.

“My grandmother used to say that it would make calluses to appear on your skin. Have you heard about it as well? I think it is a superstition though—”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” the boy interrupts. That is the first time he has used more than a word! Success. Good for you, Hanji. She pats her shoulder in her head proudly.

Hanji opens her mouth to respond but he beats her to it. “You can’t count infinity,” he says. “It is a waste of time.”

Hanji inhales.  

At this point, she is so near the edge to burst with her bubbling excitement that she is sure he feels it too. Her head spins as she stares at his side profile. He makes her feel like she is on a carousel. Everything about him makes her dizzy as if he is one of those books on her father’s library which she cannot reach and cannot understand even if she does. He doesn’t look at her. He has an undercut, she notices, dark hair moving in harmony with the wind. His attire is clean, neat and tidy. His face has the smooth lines of a child but there is a lining of maturity underneath them. And the way he holds himself, upright but also at ease. Nothing about him is fake, superficial or ordinary.

“What’s your name?” She asks as a grin spreads on her lips uncontrollably.

He moves his sharp eyes to her at last and he travels his gaze around her face. It is so hard to read anything from his features. Like looking at the blurry surface of a mirror and trying to figure out the lines of the face in it. And she fears that he won’t answer. Was he annoyed with her? But she hasn’t even reached the peak of her usual talkativeness, yet.

“It’s Levi.”

She nearly gasps for she had been very close to convincing herself that the boy had disliked her very much. Levi. It is a nice name, and it suits his personality somehow. Despite the fact that she had only known him for what? Five minutes? Maybe even less than that. But Hanji can tell.

“I’m Hanji,” she says her name back even though he hasn’t asked. Slowly put one Lego on top of it the other. Bring them all together and there, you have a castle. “Say, Levi, would you like to learn more about the sky?”

The boy doesn’t answer with words. He looks back above and shrugs.

But that’s more than enough for her.

now

Hanji’s phone rings in the middle of an important meeting.

Frankly, it is not that big of a problem. It happens to everyone every now and then. And her phone doesn’t even ring with a melody, it merely vibrates on the wooden table. Though it does make a hell of a lot of noise. Yet, the only way to overcome the situation is to simply reach out and silence it in a cold-blooded way, like nothing ever happened. That she does, without a nuisance.

The actual problem here is the name on the screen of her phone, and the fact that her hand was trembling as she pressed the button. Suddenly the air becomes too heavy, too hot and the room too narrow to fit inside. She distinctively feels Mr Jaeger’s piercing gaze from across the table. It is always hard to hide subtle changes of behaviour from a man as sharp as him. But Hanji is a professional and there is no way she can allow a slight disturbance to avoid her from focusing on her job. She imagines herself flicking her fingers aggressively as if to wake herself up from a deep slumber like she is buried deep in thick fog. Concentrate.

The blurry whiteness disappears gradually, her vision becomes clear and the deadlock in her ears leaves. But the name remains on her screen even after the ringing stops and she has to grip her pen tight enough to make the shivers go away.

-

The next time her phone rings there are several minutes to her lunch break. She shifts her attention from her computer screen to the phone and she just stares at the name, as if she looks long enough the letters will change or they will disappear, or she will wake up from this dreary sleep.

None of those happens, the machine keeps ringing on her desk, her heart slams against her ribcage, and her hands tremble yet again as she types numbers on her keyboard.

The vibrations cease after a while, but the cramps in her stomach don’t.

-

During her lunch break, Hanji goes out to the terrace for some fresh air. It is early spring; the weather is not quite cold but it’s somewhat chilly. The wind which blows occasionally disperses her hair as she leans her elbows on the railing. The terrace is high up on the building. She can easily watch the white, mushy clouds on the smooth, blue sky. Whether it is funny or tragic she cannot decide, that after all those years whenever she looks up at the sky, she still thinks about him.

“Yo, Hanji.” Zeke Jeager comes to stand next to her putting a cigarette on his mouth and using his Zippo to light it.

“Good afternoon, Mr Jeager,” Hanji greets, smiling in return as the man takes a deep breath from his smoke. His dark, yellow hair is untidy with the wind, and his glasses reflect the midday sun.

“Just call me Zeke when we are alone,” he says and shakes the ashes of the cigarette with his index finger causing them to fall from the railing. “I hate formalities.”

“But you are my very superior,” Hanji replies with amusement.

The corners of the man’s lips curl upwards when he takes another breath from his smoke. “I don’t care. You are almost as smart as me if not more.” He sends her a playful stare as he blows the smoke and Hanji laughs, but the act makes her stomach curl onto itself. Cheerfulness is the last thing she feels at the moment.

“You seem a little bit… different,” Zeke comments, just like Hanji predicted. Nothing escapes him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Hanji lies easily. She doesn’t feel like talking about it. She doesn’t even feel like thinking about it. It makes her uneasy, and it fills her with apprehension and distress whenever the name on the phone screen comes before her eyes. She shakes her head. She needs to convince herself first. “It’s nothing.”

“Hmm,” Zeke mutters thoughtfully. He doesn’t believe her and it’s not like she expected him to. “I mean, I won’t say no if you ever need a drink,” he shrugs, and the gest reminds her of him so much that she feels a gulp shaping in her throat.

“Are you possibly flirting with me?” Hanji asks playfully, with a need to distract her mind from the wide field of dreary thoughts and memories.

“I don’t know. Is it working?” Zeke plays along and Hanji laughs again, this time more genuinely. “But I’m your very superior, so I guess not.”

“Yeah,” she says, her smile still evident on her lips. “Don’t take it personally.”

Zeke shakes his head as he puts the smoke between his lips again. He has a nice profile. A fine line of a bearded jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft-looking, bushy hair, pretty nose and a pair of nice lips. Eyes are a light blue mixed with green. A complete opposite, Hanji notices.

“Whatever it is,” Zeke continues after blowing out the white smoke. “It’s obvious that it affects you but don’t let it affect your work.”

“Of course,” Hanji nods.

“Hanji!” A female voice cuts in their conversation. Hanji turns around to see it’s Pieck. She waves at her from the door. “What are you doing here? Let’s go have lunch!”

“Yo, Pieck-chan,” Zeke waves at her cheerfully, grinning wide as they both walk up to where she is. “How are you?”

“Hungry,” Pieck replies, then turns to Hanji. “Come on. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry,” Hanji apologizes. They always have lunch together with Pieck, but with her mind a muddle of emotions she had forgotten all about it.

“See you later then ladies,” Zeke, bids them goodbye and leaves then they both start to walk in the direction of the cafeteria.

“Is he bothering you?” Pieck asks as soon as Zeke is out of their hearing zone. “I can talk to him if he does. He is not as tough as he looks, and I have the material in my hand to sabotage him.”

Hanji laughs heartily for the first time that day. Pieck and Zeke are old friends, and she uses it every chance she gets. “There is no need for that. We were just talking but thank you.”

“Talking about what?” Hanji feels Pieck observing her face, looking for a hint. “Did he also realize that your mood is kind of sour today?”

Hanji’s smile freezes on her face. She hadn’t been as subtle as she thought she had as it seems. She opens her mouth to object, to array excuses like I’m just tired or couldn’t sleep well and change the subject.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Pieck assures, bumping her shoulder lightly to hers. “It’s just unusual to see you like this.”

“Right,” Hanji adjusts her glasses and pushes herself for a slight movement on her lips. Upwards. “There is nothing to worry about.”

Her dark eyes travel around her face, searching Hanji’s gaze and she tries hard not to look away. Pieck is suspicious and Hanji knows she is not quite convinced when she says, “Okay.” But she doesn’t press upon the matter either. “I’ll be here if you want to talk about it.”

“I know,” Hanji smiles, genuinely this time. “Thank you, Pieck.”

-

Hanji watches her reflection in the mirror and sees the reason why everyone could tell that she had been in low spirits today.

“This shouldn’t have affected me that much,” she mutters and splashes cold, icy water on her face. Her glasses rest next to the sink, the hair on the side of her face and the tips of her forehead gets wet. Her soul feels heavy to carry, her heart uneasy and her stomach like it’s wrapped with thousands of sharp thorns.

Inside her head, there is an earthquake. It rumbles, rocks and causes the old shelves stuffed with dusty memories to be dishevelled all around. Yellow paged books lie open on the ground. It has been so long since she had let herself read a word from them. Now they force her to read the tale from the very beginning. And it doesn’t help that she already knows them all by heart.

“The temperature at the sun’s core is about 27 million degrees Fahrenheit,” she whispers, gripping the edge of the cold, white marble.

“The Moon’s distance from Earth is about 240.000 miles.

The globular cluster NGC 6397 is almost as old as the universe itself.

Mercury is the fastest planet,” she continues with quick whispers. “Daytime Temperatures can reach 439 degrees Celsius and drop to -180 degrees Celsius at night.

Ceres takes 1.682 Earth days, or 4.6 Earth years, to make one trip around the sun.

Mars is the fourth planet from the Sun at an average distance of about 228 million km or 1.52 AU.”

Hanji closes her eyes and imagines the space. Infinite, black and yet aglow with suns, stars and moons—galaxies, clusters and planets.

The worn pages of the books rustle in her head. A distraction, a nuisance that came out of nowhere. Why? She thinks for the nth time that day. Why is he calling me now? After all those years, why now?

“This cannot be ill, cannot be good” she murmurs.

Then laughs to herself. Quoting Shakespeare again? he belittles her in her mind.

She shakes her head as if to erase his ghost from her mind. “Cannot be good,” she repeats. But she has never run for no reason, she has never let life win over without girding herself with arms. She has never been coward enough to hide.

It might be nothing. Maybe a simple call for a quick hello. Five minutes of conversation would do her no harm. It might be nothing, but it might be something too. There is only one way to figure it out.

She straightens, puts on her glasses and adjusts her clothes. Blinks her eyes a few times until she makes sure they are not blank as an empty, grey wall. Until the fire inside that is close to dying out, flare up again. After that, she lifts her hands to either side of her face and slaps her cheeks, “Okay,” she says, nodding at herself in the mirror.

Then turns around on her heels and walks out of the door.

-

He calls again when she is out of work and waiting for a bus at the stop.

She is tranquil, somehow, as she looks at the screen. Maybe it’s because she has made her mind earlier today that if he is to call again, she would answer this time. And she does.

“Hey,” she greets.

“Hey, Hanji.” His voice is rough and coarse. It sounds older than she has last heard him. “What’s up?”

“I’m fine,” Hanji swings a leg absentmindedly. “How about you, Kenny?”

“’m fine too,” Kenny replies. She tries to imagine him with long, dark hair and a smug grin on his face. Although the years had rubbed out the picture of the man she has known it is easier than she had expected.

“Sorry, I couldn’t answer earlier,” Hanji says, half-lie, half-sincere. “I was busy at work.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, kid,” Kenny slides over and Hanji smiles slightly at the way he calls her. “I thought you’d be busy. But, eh, you see… I had to… call you,” he sighs. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Why?” She starts to feel the thorns again. Her body tenses involuntarily. A car sweeps by scattering her hair and clothes. “What’s wrong? Is he—"

Kenny sighs again and she hears his breath tremble. Above, the stars are hidden behind the grey, mobile clouds. The moon is a thin crescent. Strangers pass by, a bus stops, takes a few passengers and carries on. A breeze blows and the leaves rustle.

And Hanji feels like she is eleven again, watching the stars with a boy she barely knows.

You can’t count infinity, he had said. It is a waste of time.

They are no longer there.

“Kuchel,” Kenny begins. Cannot be good, Hanji thinks again and closes her eyes as he goes on with the dreadful news she had so feared to hear. “She is dead.”

--

The girl has stardust in her eyes.

Her hair is messy, and her clothes are dirty with mud and dust. She wears round glasses and when she smiles, he sees one of her upper teeth is slightly twisted.

And she reminds him of the first time he had seen a shooting star.

Do you want to learn more about the sky? The girl asks. Does he? He had never thought about it. He merely likes the experience of watching it while sitting or lying on his back with his arms under his head and a leg over the other in this abandoned, derelict building. It eases his mind when he is overwhelmed with school or family or friends or humans in general. He had most liked the fact that he had been alone all this time which was the actual purpose of this place anyway.

But the girl has stardust in her eyes, and she is like that shooting star, and she holds the moon in her hands.

If she reminds him that much of the sky maybe she would make him feel like he is watching it too, he thinks as he looks back above and shrugs.

Cannot be ill.

[lockawayknight]

kinsmen | creighton, magerold | 1416

(( a little birthday gift for @of-forossa~!! pls enjoy these two nerds babbling about how cool brom is :,3 ))

—

“Is everything alright?”

No, not really. But considering Magerold felt the need to ask, that was probably already clear, wasn’t it?

If anything, it’s certainly clear enough that Creighton doesn’t need to respond to the question with any actual words in order for Magerold to get his answer. The merchant’s smile is bittersweet as he places a hand on Creighton’s shoulder, patting his fingers there lightly. “C’mon, what’s on your mind?” he asks. “You been actin’ like this all day, gettin’ me worried. Somethin’ happen?”

Creighton shakes his head — no, not really. “Jus’... thinkin’ a lot.”

“Ah. Terrible choice on your part — you’re awful at tha’.”

“Shut up.”

“Mm.”

But Magerold doesn’t let it sit there — no, of course not. He’s got a bad habit of prying, especially when his friends are involved, and especially when Creighton is said friend. And this is absolutely no different. Crossing his legs comfortably, he scoots a little closer to Creighton’s side on the blanket they both sit. “Thinkin’ ‘bout what?”

A shrug is Creighton’s only response.

Magerold isn’t satisfied with that, either, though. “C’mon, mate, you can trust me,” he says. “What’s the matter?”

Well... ugh. It’s not like Magerold is gonna shut up any time soon just because Creighton tells him to. He might as well be honest. He probably should be for the sake of his social nature, anyway. “Well... Mm, y’know that big ol’ brutish-lookin’ bloke, the Cursebearer, Brom—?”

“Ah.” The one-syllable not-a-word is said with absolute certainty, like Creighton’s question had just answred one of Magerold’s own. “Gave ya a Brom speech, did he?”

Creighton quirks a brow. “A ‘Brom speech’...?”

Magerold snickers in return. “Mate, if you’ve ever gotten a Brom speech, you’d know exactly what I’m talkin’ about”

The thing is, Creighton’s pretty sure he does. And that’s exactly what happened. He snorts a bit. “Wha’, when he gets all poetic and starts makin’ ya question your entire bloody place in the world?”

“Oh, sure,” Magerold says with a few waves of his hand. “Him with his kind words and strong hands... Has he ever put his hand on your shoulder? Woof, makes ya feel like the world ain’t so bad sometimes.”

Creighton rolls his eyes at that, and the way Magerold fans himself as he says it.

But he’s not exactly wrong, is the thing. And that’s precisely the problem. That sense of belonging, of family, of home, of acceptance in a world that maybe isn’t as cruel as you’d once thought... That’s precisely what’s been gnawing away at Creighton’s ribcage like pinpricking rats’ teeth since last he’d seen the Forossan warrior. Belonging, purpose — it’s something Creighton’s always been told he wasn’t deserving of, and never, ever would find. It’s something that’s been torn open within him, a hole carved into his identity’s heart, hewn to bloody shape over years and years of torment. It’s something... that Brom’s somehow managed to begin filling with the sweet cedar saplings of his lessons learned from Forossa — a few “Brom speeches” about the way the tides of time are pulled by the moons of old, long-destroyed homes.

And, once again, Magerold’s smile turns bittersweet as he notices Creighton’s distanced gaze. “Wha’ didja talk about, then, eh?” he asks. “Must’ave been pretty heavy if it’s gotten you to shut the hell up.”

“You shut up.”

“Mm.”

But, again, he isn’t wrong.

Another few moments of silence fall between them before Creighton’s gathered his thoughts enough to figure out something to say. He breathes deep, then exhales on a sigh. “He, ah...” Pause. “Well, we started talkin’ about Lothian again—”

“Oh boy...”

“—and Forossa and all tha’. My axe came up, the dragonslayers and lion knights, y’know. All tha’ he’s so fuckin’ proud of—”

“Mm.

“—but... This time was... different, I s’pose. He had this sorta... pride in his tone what wasn’t about Forossa, a’least not about it as his homeland. It was...” Pause. “I... I think it was about me.”

Silence.

Creighton laughs nervously to fill the space between them, running dappled fingers through his tangled hair. “I can’t remember the last time I felt like someone actually... y’know, gave a goddamn about me—”

“Oh, thanks a lot...”

“Not like that, Maggie, shut the hell up.” He gives the merchant a hard elbow to the ribs at that. “Like... like pride, I s’pose, but like... somethin’ deeper’n a friendship’s sorta sense.” Pause again. “I dunno if... if I’ve ever felt like anyone’s been... been proud when they look at me before, ‘less it’s cos they’re lookin’ for a sword and see me like a fuckin’ weapon. Hollow pride, not... not whatever Brom has for his homeland. For his kin.”

Another pause.

“He called me kinsman earlier, s’all. And it got me thinkin’.”

“‘Kinsman’?”

“Yeah, like... like a brother, almost. Another child of Forossa. And...” Exhale. “S’pose it got me thinkin’ how I’ve, ah... never really felt like I’ve’ad a real home I belonged to before, y’know. Nothin’ solid and safe. Nothin’... nothin’ like what Forossa means to him. Tha’s somethin’ I been searchin’ for since as long as I can remember, but ‘ave never been able to find.”

And another.

“Is it... strange, to feel at home with someone you’ve just met? In a land you’ve never known...?”

Magerold listens intently to the knight’s every word, biting back as many of his little sarcastic interjections as he can, sensing the almost urgent air of seriousness in his friend’s darkened timbre. He nods along, he hums now and then, he taps a finger to his chin in thought.

The first thing out of his mouth, of course, is nothing helpful. “Sounds like you’re feelin’ somethin’ called an e-mo-tion, love...”

Creighton gives him an even harder elbow to the ribs for that one, making him snicker and bat him away. He turns serious afterwards, though. “Nah, I think I understand,” Magerold says. “So many of us ‘ave never really ‘ad a place what felt like home. I’m lucky enough I got me spot ‘ere in the Keep, but it don’t surprised me you don’t feel quite at home in Tseldora. You’ve always been a bit of a wanderer. Somethin’ we got in common.” Hm... “But... maybe s’jus’ cos your heart don’t got a place it feels it belongs in yet. Maybe Forossa is that place.” Another. “Maybe he just sees it in ya.”

“But tha’s the problem, Maggie,” Creighton responds quickly, curling further in on himself in his mild distress. “Forossa is gone. It’s been gone. How the fuck am I supposed to find a home in a place what doesn’t bloody exist anymore?”

“Well... you got Brom, don’t ya?”

Creighton looks over at Magerold with a quirked brow, though it quickly turns into a threatening sort of frown. “I’m engaged, Magerold...”

“Oh, tha’s not what I meant,” the merchant says, batting a hand aggressively. “I meant... well, there’s your tie to Forossa right there. He’s been there, lived there, loved the damned place to the grave an’ back, an’... sounds like he sees ya as a part of it. They always say blood’s thicker than water, don’t they?”

A beat. “I... don’t think that’s the whole quote.”

“Well, it is ‘ere.” Another bat of the hand. “Maybe you never knew Forossa, an’ you never ‘ad a real home without it, but... you’ve got him. An’ by that, you’ve got a piece of home right there in front of ya, fightin’ by your side.” A light shrug as Magerold leans back in his seat, arms crossed casually behind his head. “Maybe home’s been closer than you’ad imagined, all this time, wanderin’ around with that big ol’ sword a’ his.”

For a long moment, Creighton falls silent, his thoughts flitting between still images and fast words — tales of Forossa, of Lothian, of a history he’s never known but holds in his hands during his every fight. Of home. Of honour. Of himself. Of... his kinsmen. It’s an almost sickening sort of longing, but...

Well, suppose Magerold, once again, isn’t wrong. “Maybe so.”

The conversation seems to find a comfortable death within the grasses of those words, the both of them considering deeply the homes they’ve never had.

But Creighton, for one, feels like that hole in his identity’s heart has just been mended, sealed tight and tamped to the top with Forossa’s loving soil.

And there’s a name he can thank for its mending.

In fact... he may go thank him right now.