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thebestofoneshots · 2 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: homophob*c slurs, homoph*bia. Prompt: If things cannot be changed, can the attention be diverted? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 64: Put Out the Fire

Remus’ hand, the one that had been holding you down seemed to loosen up slightly. You looked up, he seemed just as tense but you saw Sirius plop back down into the water and you couldn’t stay down there any longer, your need for air was almost overwhelming at that point, and while you had frantically looked for a wand in the pocket of both boys’ shirts that were still on the floor to try and use some kind of charm for breathing underwater, Remus’ wand had been on his sweater and Sirius’ on his robes, so instead you’d had to hold you breath.

You gasped for air and looked towards the now shut doors. The first thing you saw was Remus’ shocked gaze, you turned to Sirius, he had his head hidden in between his palms. You looked in between the two of them, you felt your feet trembling and your lips wanting to say something. You hadn’t seen what happened, but by Sirius’ quick standing up and tense muscles under the water, you were sure someone had seen them.

“Who?” You asked, voice raspy. The room was dеad silent, no sound other than the water still coming out of the taps and the soft echo of the small wave you’d created upon resurfacing. Both boys were almost frozen in place. Neither of them seemed ready to answer your question. “Who was it? At the door?” you pressed.

It took a whole moment for either boy to muster up the words. “Snape,” said Sirius almost in a whisper. Remus was still quiet.

“Severus Snape?” you asked, horrified. “How much did he–”

“Everything,” he interrupted. You felt as if you'd gotten a punch in the gut and all the air had been drawn out of your lounges –you knew exactly how that felt. “Except for you, he didn’t see you. Remus made sure.” You blinked a couple of times and let out a short breath, trying to deal with all the new information. “He called us sissys,” Sirius continued. You saw Remus flinch out of the corner of your eye.

“So he’s also homophobic,” you said in a scoff as if you weren’t surprised. “And he… just left?”

“He left when I pointed my wand at his ugly face,” Sirius said, there was a tinge of that very characteristic boastfulness of his laced in his words. “Right Moony?”

No response.

“Moony?” Sirius asked again, now focusing his gaze on him.

Remus was looking at Sirius but not entirely, it was as if his gaze was lost somewhere in the space he occupied. Sirius turned to you, questioning. Remus looked as if he had been petrified, though you could see the soft rise and fall of his chest.

“Remus,” you said, much softer than Sirius, but his gaze was still completely lost.

Sirius was about to shake him but you were fast enough to hold his hand before he got to touch him. He gave you a confused look and you nodded softly. You used your hold on his wrist to draw it closer to Remus in a much softer manner and guided it until he touched his cheek. You then placed your hand on top of Sirius’ –much like you’d done to Remus earlier– and guided his index just under Remus’ chin. As you suspected, his heartbeat was almost as fast as it had been earlier, but this time it wasn’t because of pleasure, Remus was terrified.

You threw another soft look at Sirius before pulling your other hand towards Remus’ unattended cheek. “Remus?” you called again.

“Moony?” Sirius said shortly after, imitating the softness of your tone. He caught on almost as fast as you on what Remus was experiencing. He’d experienced it himself more times than he’d like to admit.

“He knows,” Remus spoke finally. “He knows I’m a werewolf and he knows I’m queer.” You could tell how hard it had become for him to breathe. He was barely blinking as he said it.

“He can’t talk about the first one,” Sirius said softly.

You already knew about the incident. Severus had gotten charmed by Dumbuldore so he didn’t speak about Remus’ secret. You wondered if the spell had been ambiguous enough to also stop him from talking about this. It was highly unlikely, Dumbledore was a brilliant wizard, he wouldn’t leave space for loopholes.

Remus didn’t even have the energy to look at Sirius in the sarcastic way he’d want to. The one that made the obvious thing known: He could talk about the second one.

It was easy to guess what he was thinking. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “It’s okay,” you repeated reassuringly, much like he had done to you in the past. “We’ll figure something out.”

“We always figure something out,” Sirius said with a smile, and leaned closer to press a soft kiss to Moony’s temple. That seemed to somehow ease the other boy.

“That’s right,” you added softly and allowed your hand to glide down to his collarbone, squeezing the space between his shoulder and his neck reassuringly. “It may take us a while, but we’ll find a way. We already found our way to each other, whatever happens after won’t matter.”

“The pressure, it’ll…” Remus took in a shaky breath. “It’ll crush us,” he added apprehensively. “What if– If you can’t take that anymore,” he added as he looked at both you and Sirius.

The root of his fear wasn’t on people finding out, but rather it was on the two of you leaving him because of it. You shook your head and sighed once you figured it out. “Rem, we’ve all gone pretty much through hell before getting together. Sirius’s never cared about other people’s opinions and as long as I have the two of you, I won’t either. Shout it out loud to the entire school if you want, I’m yours, we’re yours, and nothing will change that.”

“She’s right Moons, if you think some Slytherin’s badmouthing us will make us step away from you then–”

“It’s not just the Slytherins,” Remus interrupted, insisting, anxious. “Our very friends could turn on us. You don’t know the kind of prejudice they have against queer people, against people in a menage a trois or whatever it is you call it. They will look at us and they will judge us wherever we go and–”

“Hey,” you said softly when you realised his words were taking over his thoughts. “Name one friend you think would leave us if they found out. I dare you.”

Remus seemed to think about it for a second, he opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t say a thing. “None of them would,” Sirius confirmed. “You know that, right?”

“What about my father?”

“You could always say you’re only half gay, you’re also dating a woman,” said Sirius nonchalantly and got a slap from your side.

“I’m sure Hope would help him understand if it ever gets big enough for him to hear about it,” you said with a smile. “Don’t worry so much, Rem. We are together in this, we’re not planning to leave you any time soon.”

“Yeah?” He said softly. Almost too quietly to be heard. As if he was scared you might go back on your words.

You smiled and leaned in to hug him, Sirius was shortly behind, the two of you embracing Remus tightly. Both boys were still quite shirtless, and you could feel their soft skin against your hands and face, it was reassuring in a way. Your cheeks pressed to the crook of his neck and Sirius pressed almost right behind you. It took him a few seconds, but eventually, he also closed his arms around Sirius, pushing you even closer to him, as if to make sure you were real, as if to make sure you were really there, hugging him, and telling him you’d be with him no matter what. Just months ago something like that would seem unimaginable, and here you were.

“I mean,” Sirius said. You could hear the teasing smile on his face even if you had your back turned on him. “Did you really think we’d ever want to stop after getting a taste of you?” He added before pressing a sonorous kiss on Remus’ cheek. The smack sound echoed through the entire place.

Remus was startled at first, growing almost red from the unexpected remark –and he was lucky Sirius didn’t lick his face as he initially intended– but then he chuckled light-heartedly. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his neck as well, much quieter than Sirius’ but loud enough for him to hear. “I mean, Sirius’ is right. How could we ever?”

Remus’ chuckles grew a little louder. And he tightened his grip around the two of you. A few minutes passed like that. After the heat of the moment and the cold bucket of water that Severus had thrown your way, it was a nice, simple, and incredibly reassuring embrace. “We should probably leave now,” he said while rubbing circles on Sirius’ back and pressing a short kiss to your hair.

“I don’t want to,” you said petulantly. The idea of leaving the warmth and comfort of them presenting itself almost as a nightmare.

“Severus might tell a teacher, and then we’ll really be in trouble.”

“Remus!” Sirius complained this time around. He was clearly much calmer now, impossibly delighted at having both his boyfriend and his girlfriend cling to him so fervently.

“You both know we should go, don’t make me the bad guy.”

You grumbled something as you pushed yourself off him, “Why did we say we wanted common sense in the relationship,” you sighed as you turned to Sirius.

“Because we’re both reckless and would probably end up in detention without Moony,” he reminded you.

“Well detention doesn’t sound so ba–”

“Bathroom cleaning.” Remus said without batting an eyelash.

You stood straight almost in an instant. “Remus is right, we need to leave this place,” you said as you leaned down and allowed your hand to dive down into the water to pick up their shirts, handing them over shortly after. You’d gotten it wrong and mismatched them to their owner, the boys smiled when they noticed, exchanging the wet clumps of fabric between each other as they looked at you stepping out of the water with clothes completely soaked but clean in comparison to earlier.

Neither boy said a thing, but the sight of your shirt and skirt clinging to your body due to the water tempted both of them to forgo common sense and just continue with what you’d started before Severus arrived. “What?” you asked as they stared.

“Nothing,” Sirius said, almost too quickly before busying himself with the damp cloth in his hand. Trying to expand it and put it on, even as it was wet. “How is it so much harder to put on a wet shirt than to remove it,” he mumbled as he struggled to find one of the arms.

“You’re not really meant to put on wet clothes, only to remove them,” Remus replied with a teasing smirk before also leaving the tub. He was dripping, the droplets of water disappearing into the charmed floor. It seemed like whatever water reached it would instantly dry, it’d been designed to avoid students tripping on wet surfaces; it was still fascinating to see the droplets almost disappear as if they had been swallowed by a sponge the moment they touched the ground.

His trousers were half on –since you’d managed to remove one of the buttons– and pulled down as he stepped out of the bath. Sirius hollered something about him having a “Great arse” and you tried not to laugh as Moony frowned, and pulled up the trousers as a blush suffused his face. Not that Sirius had actually seen anything other than his underwear.

You leaned back a little bit to look and nodded. “No, I mean he’s definitely right,” you said with a shrug. Which got an exasperated –and yet diverted– look from Moony. He shook his head as he pulled on his shirt, picked his jumper from the side of the tub and took his wand out from one of the sleeves, where it had previously gotten stuck.

“Little Witch, come over,” He said softly. You approached him without questions and he cast a simple spell over you, in a second your clothes were all dried up, they even looked ironed.

“That’s a neat trick,” you said as you adjusted the button and realised the small hole in the side of your skirt had also disappeared. You looked at it puzzled as you turned to Remus with amazement.

“It’s a repairing charm,” he responded with a shrug. “I begged Pomfrey to teach me how to do it. I’d lost a great deal of my clothes because of Moony.”

“You’re so brilliant!” you said as you took his hand in between your hands and pressed a fast kiss on his lips. He seemed rather content with your sudden show of love and appreciation. You’d called him brilliant before about a hundred times, but if from now on that praise also came with a kiss, then he’d have to be twice as brilliant as he’d been before.

By the time you left the bathroom, both boys had been dried with Remus’ spell, and you’d had to step out into the sea of toads on the outside hall. Upon little to no deliberation, the three of you decided that going to the courtyard and blending in with the rest of your friends would be your best alibi. Especially if you made a lot of noise and made it appear you’d been there a while. At least like that, you’d be able to diminish the credibility of whatever Severus decided to tell other people.

If you made the rest doubt that you’d ever been anywhere but in the courtyard, then the probability of having been in the Prefect’s bathroom would go down drastically. Hence, you sneaked through one of Hogwarts’ interminable secret passages and arrived at the courtyard not from the main entrance but rather from an underground passage that dropped you just outside of it.

You used the same technique you had used outside the great hall to climb up and the three of you blended with the crowd as if you’d been there all along.

“Hey,” you said as you approached your group of friends.

Mary was almost startled when she spotted you “Where were you?”

“We got ourselves cleaned after the mud incident, took a while to find you in the crowds.”

“If you had come with me instead of behind your boyfriends–” she stopped herself as if she realised she’d said something she shouldn’t have but added, “Your boyfriend’s beautiful hair then you wouldn’t have ruined your uniform.”

You pushed her with your shoulder playfully, not reproaching but rather diverted at how fast her stance had changed when she thought she’d said more than she should. It made you think of how and when you’d tell the rest of your friends about your relationship.

Which had some conflicted thoughts, part of you wanted to keep it a secret, just because of how exciting it was to have them for the two of you, while the other part wanted to tell every single person in the world about it, because dating Remus Lupin was something worth boasting about. Yes, it had been you and Sirius the ones who finally got one of the dreamiest boys at the entire school. However would you want to keep that a secret?

If only there were not such things as prejudices and so on, perhaps you might have made it obvious right there and then. But then again, you might have been the one in less trouble if word got out since you weren’t the one openly breaking the classic heterosexual relationships, the boys were. Not even Tom was openly gay, even if it wasn’t exactly a secret, it was more as if he belonged in a secret club, where only other members of the club and selected allies were admitted.

It was the only way to maintain everyone safe since you were sure the racism already existing in some places of the school wouldn't take too long to turn into homophobia. Yet another excuse to belittle people. After all, you had met Arkalis, and the way he’d implied things about Evan had been enough to tell you the position of the Pure Blood Community in regard to sexual preferences.

“What do you mean ‘her boyfriend’s beautiful hair?’” Asked James as he turned to Lily in an almost reproachful tone.

“Nobody can deny it, Sirius has the best hair,” said Marlene.

“Between who?” protested James. “The Marauders?”

“Probably the entire school,” answered Mary with a shrug.

James looked honestly offended by the entire ordeal, not because he didn’t think Sirius had amazing hair, but because Lily thought Sirius had amazing hair. Not that she didn’t have any right to think it, of course, she could think whatever she liked, but it didn’t stop the little discontent over it. “Well, I think Lily has the best hair.”

“Of course you do,” Everyone retorted, almost in a choir. James just frowned in return and placed his hand around Lily who rolled her eyes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, instantly making the frown disappear.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Severus walking past the entrance and towards a bunch of Slytherins on the other side of the courtyard. His robes were still filled with mud, and he was covered by what you recognized to be the slime on the library entrance. There was a choir of laughter among the students once a small Hufflepuff girl noticed him and pointed his demeanour at her friends who seemed genuinely diverted at the sight.

“That is enough, Miss Bingley, please,” McGonagall said in a rather stern voice.

“But Professor,” retorted another Hufflepuff that stood beside her. “He’s covered in troll snot!”

This caused yet another chorus of laughs, this time even the Slytherins were poking fun at Severus who had already turned crimson from anger, his face contorting into that of an angry ostrich. When he noticed your staring he gave you a disdainful face with an air of superiority. As if he knew something you didn’t and he knew that something had the power to destroy you. Severus had assumed Sirius was cheating on you with Remus Lupin, and he was already devising a plan to bring the three of you down. He had this unwavering idea that it was your fault he was miserable and that Lily had started dating Potter because you had prompted her to it. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that Potter had been chasing after her for years; only when you appeared in the school had she actually decided to give him a chance.

For all Severus cared, you and James had put a spell on Evans and that’s why she hung out with you so readily. After all, it had been after you arrived that she had started to throw those resentful looks his way. Almost as if she had started to hate him, which had never happened before. And it was in this madness that Severus was determined to destroy you. He didn’t give a damn if you recently lost your mother and friend, not even when he read on the papers that you’d run away from home; in fact, he’d even hoped you wouldn’t return at the beginning of the year. He was so upset and bitter over the way Lily was acting toward him that he blamed it all on you and couldn’t see past his pain.

It being your fault made sense, you were the perfect scapegoat, especially when he was not ready to admit it had been his attitude, and what he had called her that made Lily start being so wary of him.

Unbeknownst to all his plans, you held his gaze and smirked, leaning closer to Sirius. “You should have told me he looked so ridiculous,” you said with a laugh, that caused Sirius to also pay attention to Severus. There was a fire in the Slytherin’s eyes as his gaze crossed with Sirius’ unbothered and clearly diverted one.

“Severus Snape?” Sirius questioned. “Or should we say Severus Snail?”

Some other kid caught wind of what he said and repeated it a little louder, soon enough there was a choir of voices chanting “Severus Snail, Severus Snail!” while the rest laughed at the ridiculously fitting nickname for the boy covered in slime.

Severus puffed and blew, and looked more pissed than anything, his stupid proud smile erasing from his face as more and more voices joined the chanting. Neither you nor Sirius had joined, but both of you were laughing merrily. And as Sirius had placed his arm around you and had you lean closer to him, Severus thought he was the most disgusting man he had ever seen (after Potter). But he didn’t feel sorry for either of you, instead, he was ready to rip you to shreds.

“Enough!” repeated McGonagall, in a much more commanding tone than the one he had used the first time. “Mr Snape, please go to Mr Slughorn to see if he can help you out of your… predicament,” she added. “Everyone else, the classes are suspended for today. Food will be served on the lawn next to the black lake and you shall remain there until further notice, is that clear?”

There was a choir of excited “yes” coming from the crowds.

She sighed and then turned around, Professor Nightshade was by her side. She gave you a weary glance since she’d been trying to get a hold of you since you went back to school, but the situation at hand seemed a lot more relevant. The rest of the teachers, including Sprout, Flitwick and Spellman, leaned in to hear what McGonagall was telling them in a much softer tone. “I’ll talk to the house elves to devise a plan for the displacement of the Toads,” she said. “Unless anyone has any other ideas?”

The teachers disappeared into the roofed section of the courtyard and you turned to look at Lily with a proud smile, leaning onto her before whispering: “Told you you didn’t have to worry about the homework.”

Even with the thick snow outside, the students had all armed themselves with warming spells, there had been a few fires constructed near the lake and the elves were handing out hot chocolate with warming potions –courtesy of Slughorn– to everyone that required them. The prank had turned a boring first day of school into somewhat of a winter picnic or an exterior of a ski resort lounge party. The lake was frozen, the elves had gotten some skates and some students were skating about while others remained close to the fires while drinking their hot cocoas and roasting marshmallows.

Eventually, a Ravenclaw had the brilliant idea of also cooking food in the fire and with the help from the house elves got his hands on some raw meat in bruschetta sticks and with a spell had them float and spin around the fire as they cooked.

He taught some other students how to do it, and suddenly almost all the fires were not only for warming people but also a buffet of all types of roasted food and vegetables.

The day might have started with toads, but it ended in a winter festival!

It’s been a few hours since you’d gotten there with everyone and by then you were all just lounging on the snow, close enough to the fire to be warm, but not so much that the snow would melt underneath you. You had a bruschetta of roasted vegetables in your hand and were munching on some green stuff that tasted like zucchini but with spices.

“Well it turned out a lot better than I expected,” said James as he leaned back next to Sirius, you had been lying in between him and Remus, shoulders bumping into each other as you pulled food into your mouth. Remus would occasionally have some marshmallows float towards him and share them with you and Sirius.

“Yeah, we’d never had a prank ended in a party,” said Peter from the other side. He was drinking some hot chocolate and had about 5 marshmallows floating beside him, and another 5 -much smaller ones– inside his beverage. “They almost always end up in detention.”

“You think they’ll figure it was us?” asked Sirius thoughtfully.

“I don’t think they even know how it was done,” you retorted. “I mean there is no spell that gets so many toads in so many places at once.”

“I believe Flitwick and Spellman are trying to figure that out,” added Remus. “I saw them talking to some of the elves, and Nimbletwist said they had been tasked to revise the origin of the toads, but no one is sure where they came from.”

“Luckily the Swampbombs don’t leave any magic traces…”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Peter. “We thought stink pellets didn’t leave any traces after their dung was completely released and we got in detention anyway.”

“How did they figure out they had been yours?”

“The Slytherins threatened the Zonko shopkeeper to tell them who’d bought them,” he admitted. “Moral of the story– never buy pranks under your own name.”

You laughed at that and took another bite of your bruschetta, whatever you’d eaten was sweet and slightly condimented, you weren’t sure you’d eaten it before, but you certainly enjoyed the texture of it in your mouth, not to mention the taste was exquisite.

“Hey, wanna go skating?” Annie Doxon said as she approached Peter, you could tell he was trying to hide his smile and look cool about it when he got up as she extended her hand. You smiled as you saw the two of them towards the lake.

“And you, Étoile? Wanna skate?”

You hummed in return, you’d barely slept that night, and then you’d gotten a dеath scare at the bathrooms. It's not that you were sleepy, or that you wanted to sleep, but rather that you were much too tired to will yourself to stand anytime soon. Not to mention there was no place as comfortable as lying between the two of them. “Not right now,” you admitted. “But if you want to–”

“No, I’m good here too,” he added with a smile, leaning his head a little closer to yours. “Can I have some, Moons?” he asked Remus as he gave a bite to a marshmallow. Moony smirked and floated it towards Sirius who promptly gave it a bite of his own.

“This is really nice,” you said as you took another bite of your food.

“Not having class?” asked Sirius.

“The marshmallows?” quipped Remus.

“No, being with you,” you said, not realising how freaking sappy you’d sounded until it was too late.

“Is it?” Sirius said with a smirk as he turned to you with a teasing eyebrow and you groaned in return.

“Never mind, I take it back, I take it back,” you joked, it didn’t matter, Sirius had already thrown himself over your stomach, pushing you closer to Remus and looking up at you with a teasing smile.

“What about it is it that you like so much?”

“Oh, please!” you complained with a smile as you tried not to make it evident how flustered you’d gotten over your own stupidity.

“Come on, Étoile, dis-moi!”

“Non, non je t'en prie.”

“I’d certainly like to hear it too,” Remus said as he leaned on his elbows to be able to look at the two of you better. It was like the entire world around the three had faded, leaving only you and nothing else. “What is it, Little Witch?”

“You just like torturing me, don’t you?” you said, playing offended.

“Perhaps we do,” Sirius responded as he looked at Remus with a rather complicit smile.

“It’s just that you look exceptionally cute when you’re flustered,” Remus said, much quieter, in case someone was listening to the three. You covered your face with your hands but both of them were quick and moved them out of the way, looking at you with infuriatingly teasing smiles.

You frowned and pouted and the two boys blurted out laughing. Perhaps if Severus had seen the entire thing happen he would have realised he’d gotten it all wrong, and that his plans to torment you would dissolve in water like an effervescent tablet.

You were shaking your head as the boys continued to laugh their heads off when you heard a rather big explosion. The entire place went quiet, and people turned to look towards the castle. It couldn’t have been the prank, there was nothing in the swampbombs akin to an actual bomb.

“What–”

“My god,” you heard a Hufflepuff girl –Alice Becket– say as she looked towards her window. You gave Remus a look since they had been a thing and he just shrugged in return. “I left my fireworm in the dorm room, if toads got in…”

Suddenly there was another explosion, this time it was louder.

“Alice!” Michael, another Hufflepuff, screamed. “Did you also take Puxie out of her cage?”

“She looked constrained,” Alice said with a miserable-looking expression.

And then there was another boom. Imogen, who at some point had sat beside Remus winced. “And… that must have been Tony.”

“Your fireworm?” you asked as you turned to her. She nodded in return.

“Alice, may I have a word with you?” Said Professor Spellman with a rather stern look. “Care to explain the explosions in the common room?”

“It’s the fireworms, Sir. I think they might have encountered the Toads…” she said and then she looked down, shaking her head. “Poor Drewie…”

“And why, pray tell, did a bunch of Hufflepuffs keep fireworms in their dorm rooms?” He said, voice booming and turning to look at Nightshade. She shrugged in response, even if she was head of the house, she had no idea.

“Homework,” said Imogen.

“Hufflepuffs are not the only ones with fireworms either,” said a Ravenclaw as there was another loud boom and smoke started to come out of their tower.

“By Rowena!” said Spellman as he heard another boom.

“Where do you keep yours?” You asked, turning to Sirius.

“Peter is taking care of them, I think he left them with Hagrid or something,” he said with a shrug, not preoccupied at all. So far there had been no explosions on the Gryffindor tower or near the dungeons (that you’d heard) and after a few other booms, the novelty of the incident died and some of the students on other years –everyone that did not own a fireworm– went back to the things they’d been doing before hand.

“I’m so going to fail,” said Michael as he pulled on his hair and shook his head in disbelief. “All we had to do was keep them alive.”

“Loser!” Said Snape as he stared at the smoke.

“Say that again, Severus Snail!” jeered Michael as he turned around, clearly pissed at his comment.

“That’s enough,” Spellman commanded, but neither cared to listen.

“Call me that again and see what else blows up.”

“Your face will,” retorted Michael, as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Severus.

Nightshade had slowly walked right in front of the boy, and in a much calmer, and yet somehow equally threatening voice said, “Michael Stradlater!”

He looked at Snape, clenching his jaw and wand still high up in the air. Severus stared at him angrily as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes and then focused back on him. He took a deep breath and slowly pulled his wand down. “He started, Miss!”

“Not my fault he can’t keep his fireworms alive,” Severus insisted, he was in a terrible mood, and being called Severus Snail only made it worse. On the other hand, Michael was devastated over his worm, not because he was overly attached to it, but because he was failing Care of Magical Creatures and needed the extra points keeping him alive would have bought. He aimed his wand against Severus again.

“Michael,” Seraphina said again, it was rather impassive. Voice soft, but a clear warning regardless. The boy didn’t relent this time.

You looked at Remus and smiled, he knew you were up to something even before he brought your hand to your mouth and pulled on the fingers of your glove with a bite and removed it, digging your hand in the snow.

“Professor, I’m really sorry but I cannot–” A snowball surged through the air and fell right on Severus’ face. Michael looked at the scene completely shocked before he allowed his wand to fall back down as he bent over with laughter.

“Who the hell–” Severus started, but then another snowball flew through the air and fell on the side of Michael’s head, which got Severus to scoff. Remus was not wearing his gloves at this point either. “Is this funny to you?” Severus asked as he looked around annoyed.

“Plenty,” said Evan as he threw a snowball straight at his face.

Severus seemed even more offended that his housemate had thrown a snowball at his face than anything, but then a rouge snowball from Sirius fell on a random student and since he thought it had been someone else, he retaliated towards Imogen and Alice, who of course wouldn’t stay with their arms closed.

Less than 10 snowballs later, a fight had ensued. There were snowballs falling on the fires and on the food, and even the students who had been trying to read a book, or work on homework (which of course there were some) had now joined. Remus and Sirius and you had started out as a team, until Sirius accidentally threw a snowball at Remus and he retaliated with one towards him that ended up falling on your arm.

Eventually, Sirius was focusing solely on Remus and Remus on Sirius and you decided to pull back a little since you had already gotten like 10 balls clash onto you in the crossfire. It was as you stood close to the lake, using a spell to make about 20 snowballs at once, that someone with a disillusionment charm passed through and pulled you back behind some old stone walls that you assumed had been some ancient building that the school hadn’t cared much about maintaining.

“Hey Reg,” you said when you noticed it was him.

He smiled, pulled his head up to make sure no one had spotted him dragging you there and turned back. “How’d you know it was me?”.

“All my other friends with mad disillusionment skills are in the middle of a snowfight.”

“Could have been an enemy,” he said in a rather serious tone –you did notice the irony of that thought.

“An enemy wouldn’t have pulled me anywhere nearly as gently as you did.” You shrugged.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, casting a spell around the two of you so you were both now invisible, but somehow he’d managed to make himself visible to you and vice versa.

“You have to teach me that trick.”

“So you fill the school up with more toads?”

You gasped in surprise. “What makes you assume it was me?”

“You weren’t at the Great Hall when chaos ensued, as if you knew it was going to happen.”

“You were looking for me?” you asked tilting your head to the side with a teasing smile. But Reggie’s face made you realise he was not in the same spirits as you were. “What?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“That does not sound like good news whatsoever,” you said, somehow still half-jokingly but with an almost strained tone, as you didn’t want to hear what would happen next.

Regulus took a deep breath and then turned back to you. “After the Christmas party… they thought I’d helped you.”

“But you tried to stop me!”

“They didn’t believe you knocked me out just like that… Evan and Crouch were also on the line.”

“But the wand I gave Barty–”

“It didn’t matter,” he said. “Arkalis for some reason thought Evan would protect you… Of all people, can you believe that?”

You tilted your head to the side and let out a low “hmmm”.

“Wait, you can?”

“It’s a long story. But Arkalis believes I hooked up with him.”

“With Evan?” asked Regulus. He might have not been in the class but he very well knew about the animosity you had towards each other, and he also knew about him and Barty.

“It’s a long story,” you repeated.

Regulus shook his head and sighed before he spoke again. “Anyway, we had to convince them that we all hate your guts.”

“Couldn’t have been hard for those two,” you joked, but Reggie didn’t seem to loosen up after that either, he was tense still.

“How are you?” He changed the subject. You were about to say you were fine but he didn’t let you speak. “Really.”

You swallowed.

“I see you’ve been using her wand.”

You stopped breathing for a moment, not knowing exactly how to respond to that. “Better than I was then,” you said honestly. “I’ve… so much has happened since. It’s been crazy but the boys have been there for me, through and through. You?”

He smiled when he heard you. He could tell you weren’t lying. “We convinced them we never helped you.”

There was an apprehensive way in the way he said it as if he’d had to do something awful to achieve it. “What did they–” Your words got caught in your throat as he rolled back his sleeve.

His pale arm had been tainted, marred with a symbol that it took you no more than a second to recognise. A snake with a skull on top, exactly like the one you had seen up in the sky when he persuaded you to stay outside. For a second you wondered if your mother would still be alive had you actually listened to him. It was a terribly destructive thought that you knew you shouldn’t allow to roam in your mind for too long unless you wanted to be back where you’d been before the mirror.

You took it in your hands and pulled it towards you. “Reggie,” you said, afflicted as you looked at his arm. “Did it– Did it hurt?” He stayed quiet, clenching his jaw, which was enough for you to know it had.

“He can call us whenever he wants now. That hurts more.”

“Can’t we remove it?”

“I don’t think it’s possible, dark magic is involved. Like a curse.”

“All courses can be broken,” you said with determination. “Sirius is way better at that than me thought, perhaps we can talk to him and–”

“No!” he let out in a rush.

“No?”

“Sirius’ animosity towards me was one of the things that convinced them that I wasn’t on your side. Evan also used Sirius as his excuse to not helping you. And while we’re supposed to pretend to be friends with you at school, it’s only to keep an eye, and make sure you don’t interfere again, if not…”

“I get it,” you interrupted, not wanting him to say the words that both of you knew would follow. “But, your brother he, you won’t be able to make up with him. I know he’d like to have his little brother back, Reggie. He misses you.”

“Very peculiar way he’s got to show it,” he responded sarcastically, in a way that was incredibly reminiscent of Sirius himself.

“You’re no better than him.”

“Well, he shows you he loves you.”

“He’s still angry about the stuff that happened that summer,” you explained. “But he misses you still.”

“He has James.”

You sighed, you weren’t sure how to respond to that. “He needs to think you’re on their side?”

“There’s nothing more convincing than his scorn,” he said coldly, you could see it hurt him either way.

“And I? Must I pretend to hate you too?”

“No,” he said as he shook his head. “We’re meant to keep an eye on you, remember?”

“So I shouldn’t be surprised if I end up with Slytherin satellites?”

“I doubt anyone will take it seriously. Except perhaps Mulociber and Severus since–”

“They too?” you asked in shock. Both of them already hated your guts. Perhaps as much as Barty and Evan had before Christmas.

“More than me, Evan and Crouch, even. Since they got in themselves, not through their family connections.”

“Shit.” You said as you thought to the fact that Severus had seen Remus and Sirius in the bathroom. Would he be scared enough just with Sirius’ threats to leave that fact alone? Would he go running to inform Orion? Did he even have a way to contact Orion? What would the Blacks do if they found out?

“Yeah,” he agreed. He wanted to ask you how you were coping. Especially about your mother, she’d seen how much closer you were to her than to your father, and while he would have been almost pleased to have Walburga out of the way, the way in which you had defended Avis was enough for him to know it wasn’t like that for you at all. “I’m sorry about… everything that happened on Christmas.”

“I’m sorry about this,” you said as you placed your hand over his arm again, rubbing your thumb over the mark, as if that would wipe it from his arm. “And everything they made you do after Christmas.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the nicest thing to bond over your sorrows, but at least, Regulus had someone he could talk to. You had always had James and Lily and all your other friends to bond with, but Reggie could not talk about any of the things he thought with almost any of the Slytherins. He could trust no one, he didn’t want to risk it.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said as he looked at the mark. “I’m on your side. I’ll always be on your side.”

You knew he meant it. From day one, even if reluctantly, Regulus had been on your side. And something deep inside told you that he would be till the day he died. And while it was reassuring to know that you had friends who would stand by you no matter what, you had also seen first-hand what standing by you no matter what could do to them.

“Stay safe,” you retorted. “Don’t put yourself in harm’s way for my sake.”

“Would you even listen if I asked that of you?” he said with a small, almost teasing-like smirk that reminded you just how much of Sirius’ little brother he was. Sometimes even the way he walked was so reminiscent of Sirius that you had –upon seeing him by the corner of your eye– thought it was him.

“Do as I say, not as I do!” you retorted with a smile as well. Reggie was bringing down his shirt sleeve and buttoning it as neatly as if it had never been pulled up.

“Hypocrite.”

“I’m older, I get to be one,” you added teasingly, he actually smiled after that, it was a genuine smile. Almost a twin to Sirius’ except his was a little brighter. You wondered if someone would ever make Reggie smile like his brother, you hoped there would.

“You really should have been a Slytherin.”

“Don’t go around saying that, you might get beaten up by James,” you smiled. And pulled your wand out of your pocket before smiling and passing it over to him, he looked at you with narrowed eyes. And then you smiled. “Careful, you’ll get cold.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

You smiled and pushed him gently so that he wasn’t covered by the rocks anymore. “Hey!” you said in a voice that didn’t quite sound like you. “Regulus is hiding over there!”

Regulus gasped and then turned to you with a shocked smile. Now that was the kind of smile you were looking for. “You traitor,” he mouthed as several snowballs crashed against him. Three on his arm, one on his face that made snow splatter and colour a good deal of his hair white, and then one on the side of his leg.

You winked and picked up a ball yourself, throwing it towards him. “Go on seeker, let’s see if you’re as good at avoiding small balls as you are chasing them!”

He smiled and shook his head, rolling down on the snow and picking a ball before throwing it straight at your face, even if you were still invisible.

“You were saying?” he asked with a smile.

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wolveria · 1 month ago

Text

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 51

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: "I was so afraid… I thought I lost you."

Chapter Warnings: Angst, violence, gore, death

AO3

Spotify

You held him close as you trembled, more fragile than you’d felt since the breach began.

The control over your wild emotions was slipping, but then they were soothed by the hand that gently stroked down your back. You squeezed him tighter.

049 stiffened and made a soft noise of discomfort. The thought of him in pain was the only thing that reeled you in, the tangled web of nerves pushed aside in favor of focusing on him.

You pulled back to get a better look at him. His robes were tattered, as if aggressive moths had nibbled at the edges.

“You’re hurt.”

049 simply smiled with his eyes.

“You’re here.”

Your lips trembled; you couldn’t smile back without fear of the expression breaking.

“Course I am. I had to find you.”

It was… difficult to focus with him staring at you that way, drinking in the sight of you as if he hadn’t expected to see it again.

You wanted to reach out and pull him close again, but you didn’t.

“You’re avoiding the issue.” Your voice was stern, hiding the tremble you felt in your bones. You could fall apart later; right now, you had to find out just how injured he was.

049 released a small sigh and attempted to sit up, only succeeding with the addition of your help. He glanced down at himself, the ruin of his robes, but he was less concerned than you were.

Of course you were concerned, those damn robes were his skin, and he must have been in pain.

“An unfortunate result of being in the Old Man’s web,” 049 relented. “Also… he doesn’t particularly like me.”

You frowned, some of your earlier anger returning. It was fortunate for 106 that he’d closed the way to his dimension, or you would have been tempted to go back and make sure he could never hurt 049 again.

“You were able to extract the digital storage device from my bag,” he added, his gentle voice drawing you from your anger, like purging venom from a wound. His eyes were soft, warm, and God, you’d missed this so much. Missed him.

“I started the breach with 079’s help,” you said. “That’s what you planned, isn’t it?”

His gaze grew heavy and solemn.

“A breach would give you the best opportunity of escape.”

“You didn’t plan on escaping with me.”

“I did not expect to live long enough to try,” he said with a tilt of his head. “My survival was irrelevant to the plan.”

Your face scrunched, anger flickering back to life.

“It’s not irrelevant to me.”

His pale eyes went soft again, unbothered by your sharp words. And when he reached to touch your jaw, you froze, the anger snuffed out, or at least reduced to a simmer.

But 049’s expression wasn’t tender, it was focused. His thumb rubbed your jaw and then pulled back, examining his glove.

“Who did this?”

You looked at his hand but saw nothing against the black fabric.

“What?”

“The Pestilence.” He nearly hissed the word. “It lingers on your skin.”

You frowned.

“I must have gotten it while in there.”

“No… this is different.” He rubbed the spot on his thumb, his voice lowered into an unfriendly rumble. “This is the mask’s brand of corruption.”

Entirely outside of your own control, your face went hot.

“Ah, yeah.” You aimed for casual and landed on awkward. “I ran into 035.”

His gaze darkened so fast it was like a whipcrack.

“I’m okay,” you said in a rush, “079 helped me get away.”

“What… did he want with you?”

He spoke slowly, as if each word had to be chewed before being spit out. You didn’t envy 035 if they ever ran into each other again.

“The usual. Attention, and an opportunity to be a smug asshole.”

That wasn’t the whole of it, and 049 seemed to sense this, his expression unblinking as he waited for you to continue. Which, you did, your hands balled nervously in your lap.

“He was also certain there was a way to leave the facility. All the skybridges have been retracted, but he said there was a way out through the archival section. And that… you would know how to find it.”

That knocked some of the harsh edge out of 049’s steely expression.

“I do not know of any alternate egress from this facility. And I do not know why he believes I would.”

You relaxed a little, even if the news was disappointing. 035 had seemed so insistent on it, too.

And then you backtracked.

“Wait, alternate egress? Do you know of another exit?”

“Of course.” He looked at you askance. “The way we came in.”

The front door. He was talking about the front door.

“Who came up with this plan?” you asked as you rubbed your forehead.

“That would be the one you call SCP-079.”

Ah. Right. 079 had probably been so confident in his own ability to keep the skybridges down that he didn’t consider the possibility of anything else.

“Well, he’s not here, so we’re on our own, unfortunately,” you said. “I guess… we try to find the archival section and see if 035 wasn’t just making up shit. With 079 and 682 gone, I don’t know what else to do.”

049 cocked his head.

“The reptile is… here?”

The question came out so polite in its confusion you almost smiled.

“Yeah, he’s out. I freed him.”

049 only blinked, as if not quite sure what to do with this information.

“There’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start,” you said softly. “A lot has happened since they took you away.”

So much, and you didn’t have to hide anything anymore. Not from the cameras, not from 049 in fear of what Leahy would do to him. You realized, for the first time, you were truly alone together.

You moved without thought and knelt between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing close until there was no distance between you. You tried to be gentle, mindful of his damaged skin, but your need was too great to hold back.

He didn’t stiffen or pull away, only stilled for a moment before pulling you in, arms around your middle. You were on your knees while he sat on the floor, the only way you had height over him, and you pressed him to your chest, not caring of the edges of the beak against your collarbone.

“I found you,” you whispered into the hood of his robes. “I was so afraid… I thought I lost you.”

The fingers dipped against your skin were grounding and warm.

“I had thought death had come for me, after I had avoided its embrace for so long. I had… accepted my fate.”

“I didn’t.” And you never would.

He hummed a pleasant noise, and one hand traced up into your hair to gently touch the strands.

“We are not free of this place yet.”

His voice was quiet, as if afraid to break the fragile moment. But he was right, and you had to get moving. Staying in one place for too long was a guaranteed way to be caught by something violent and murderous.

But… perhaps one more moment wouldn’t hurt.

You pulled back just far enough to cup his head in your hands and press a kiss to his forehead.

The noise he made was strange, like a startled growl or a muffled purr, and a tremor moved him as your lips lingered on his skin. His hands had fallen to your waist, fingers tightening as if to pull you closer.

You ended the kiss but remained where you were, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You wanted to stay like this, just the two of you. No breach, no lethal lockdown, no stray SCPs or soldiers. Only you and him.

You reluctantly pulled away, giving one last stroke of your thumb over the place on his mask where his cheek would be. He seemed just as unwilling to part from you, his expression naked, something wistful in his grey eyes.

Perhaps once you escaped Site-20, you would have time to figure out what this was without the constant shadow of the Foundation. The problem was figuring out how to leave a facility that was built to be impenetrable. 049 wasn’t at his full strength, and you discovered another problem as you pulled away.

The shotgun slung across your back had corroded beyond recovery, the metal eaten through with black rust. The pistol and gun belt met the same fate, the unnatural rust marring the fabric and metal. The food you’d taken hadn’t fared any better, accelerated into a rotten state. It seemed that anything that hadn’t been in direct contact with your skin had been lost to the leeching hunger of 106’s lair.

You stripped off the useless pieces, thinking over this new obstacle. Without 079, finding another armory would be unlikely. You wondered if he’d betrayed you now that 682 was free.

Or… maybe betrayed wasn’t the right word. He would have considered your bargain fulfilled, whether or not you made it out alive, and would see no reason to wait for your return. From the perspective of a purely mechanical being, it made sense. Except you knew from how 079 felt about 682, he wasn’t entirely cold circuits and unfeeling logic.

So, for the time being, you would work under the assumption that 079 and 682 wouldn’t be coming back. Luckily, you knew where to get more weapons.

“I don’t know how to get out of here, but we need weapons,” you said, getting to your feet and brushing off your knees. “Can you walk?”

“I believe so.”

You reached out a hand, and 049 stared at it with mild confusion, until he understood and took it gently. He was heavy but had more strength than he’d had in the dark realm, and he stood on his own two feet without swaying. It was progress.

You led him from the medical bay, retracing the steps you’d taken with Leahy. You hadn’t really thought about the Site Director after getting 049 back, and your mind shied away from your last image of him. You didn’t need the distraction.

The halls remained just as empty, lit red with emergency lighting and the occasional smear of crimson on the white linoleum. It didn’t take long to reach your destination, and you stood on the threshold, shocked by the destruction. You didn’t remember it being this bad before, or… maybe it hadn’t seemed bad at the time.

049 loomed over your shoulder, taking in the room that had once been the Site Director’s office.

“What has befallen this place?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead sorting through the blasted office furniture for what you sought, sifting through the carnage with fragile numbness. The bodies were distinguishable from the furniture by the glimpses of pale bone and the stench of cooked flesh. These were no longer people. They were pieces of burnt meat and charred bone.

You tried not to look at them, but it was hard to look at anything else.

“They were guarding Leahy,” you said, trying to keep your voice flat. Unaffected. “And I needed him to find you, so…”

The result was self-explanatory. Or so you thought, but 049’s silence said otherwise as he stared at you.

“I wore the jade ring. SCP-714 affects me… differently than it should.”

His grey eyes flicked around the room.

“I see.”

He offered nothing more, simply watched what you were doing. You picked up a P90 that seemed undamaged, but it caught on an arm, which might not have been a problem if it had been attached to a body. The limb untangled itself and fell to the floor with a sickly thud.

The gun slipped from your fingers and clattered to the sooty, blood-stained floor. You ran out the door, past 049, and dry heaved in the corridor. Nothing came out but drool, your mouth filled with acrid-tasting saliva, and you spit it out.

What was wrong with you? It hadn’t bothered you before, it had been easy. Uncomplicated. They’d been obstacles, and you’d removed them. If you could kill these men, you could damn well face the result.

It wasn’t as if they’d given you a choice. You’d needed Leahy, and now he was… was…

049 appeared at your side, and you straightened, wiping the spittle from your lips. He was carrying two P90s, and they should have looked odd in his hands, like a medieval knight with a smartphone. But it was strangely natural, and he looked strangely comfortable holding them.

He held one out to you, muzzle pointed away, stock first. You took it with unsteady hands, noting he kept the other. You wondered if he’d ever used a gun before, if he even knew how. With the way he gripped it, you had a feeling the answer was yes.

“You’re not accustomed to the dead.”

You gave a small shrug and looked at your gun, pretending you were interested in checking the ammunition clip.

“I’m not used to… causing death.”

“Good.”

You met his eye, his expression serious.

“One should not bear the executioner’s axe with a light step.”

You remained quiet, and he suddenly looked away.

“You… did not have to do this. Not for me. The price you paid may not have been worth the result.”

“It was worth everything.” Your mouth twisted into a scowl as you stepped closer. “I told you. I’m leaving with you or not at all.”

He spoke your first name, softly, and it was almost enough to make you weak. But you kept your expression hard and said, “We need to keep moving.”

You walked away from the Site Director’s office and refused to linger on what was left behind.

Without a concrete plan or much in the way of supplies, your only idea was to go with 035’s original plan, which unfortunately would lead you in the opposite direction of the skybridges. Worse, there were signs of recent activity. Scorch marks that still smoked, blood that still pooled from warm bodies.

The lights had also been restored in this sector, bright and clinical white, making your eyes ache after the dim red. It was harder to hide like this, and it was sheer luck that you both weren’t spotted when you came across a platoon of guards. They were too focused on taking down a twenty-foot-tall anomaly as it swung at them with giant hands, eyes covering its back red with fury.

049 pulled you down a side corridor, and you kept running, the staccato of gunfire and screams echoing the halls, chaos and death filling the sector. You both were blind without 079’s guidance.

The Epsilon-11 soldiers didn’t make a sound until you rounded the corner and froze. 049 couldn’t pull you back quickly enough this time.

You were hit hard in the middle like being slammed by a truck. Your legs went out, and you only remained upright because he hooked his arms under your shoulders and pulled you back out of the line of fire.

He set you down against the wall, leaning across your body and the corner to shoot back. You tried to raise your own P90, but your fingers were clumsy and slick. You looked down and found your smock coated in red.

The gunfire was deafening so close to your head, but 049 still heard your gasped words.

“No,” he said, so firmly it was almost a growl. He fired around the corner, his eyes ablaze with fury and an intent to slaughter. By the cries and falling bodies you heard between the bursts of fire, he seemed to be succeeding. But there were holes in his robes, blood oozing from the wounds at a slower rate than yours. Not bulletproof, after all.

“Please,” you rasped. “We have to.”

“Your body won’t survive the strain.” Another rapid burst of gunfire, lighting his mask in an ominous glaze. “The ring would kill you.”

I’m dying anyway, you didn’t say. And you were dying. All because you rushed that corner without checking first. You’d been so desperate to escape, and now you wouldn’t.

“You… need to go.”

He didn’t acknowledge you, hunched over you like a warding stature, all fire and brimstone. But he still bled, wounds dripping onto your smock to mix with your own, and you noted it was the same. Red blood.

You thought it would hurt more. Your abdomen was torn, littered with holes, but beyond the initial impacts, you didn’t feel much. You didn’t need one of the Foundation surgeons to tell you that wasn’t a good sign.

“Valens,” you tried again. Begged. “Go.”

“No.” Now he did snarl. “Do not ask this of me.”

He wasn’t going to leave. Everything you’d done, everything you both suffered, it would be for nothing.

You looked away, hope draining out of you just as quickly as your blood. And then you caught sight of them. Two circular anomalies peeking through the door you’d just come through. One orange, the other yellow, they jostled each other to get a better look at you with their singular eyes.

SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B. What were the Eye Pods doing here?

They didn’t come into the corridor, clearly terrified of the gunfire as they trembled, rolling back and forth in nervous oscillation. You could even hear the small noises they made, like scared puppies wanting to be comforted during a thunderstorm.

And then you heard another sound. Scrapping, rolling stone, grating against something hard like…

Concrete?

The Eye Pods—they didn’t want your protection. They were warning you.

“The… lights.”

049 ignored you, too focused on the enemy, his eyes narrowed and furious.

“049! The lights!”

He glanced at you questioningly, and his eyes went a little wide as you raised the P90 clumsily in your left hand and fired past him into the ceiling.

Your shots went wide but some of them hit their mark, exploding the fluorescent bulbs overhead in a bright spray of angry sparks.

049 might not understand your reasons, but he didn’t hesitate to follow your actions as he leaned around the corner and fired upward into the squares of light. He took another hit, and another, before you gripped him by the sleeve and pulled him back with the last of your strength.

You didn’t destroy all the lights, some of them remained, but they were damaged, and the corridor flickered with sporadic flashes.

The gunfire paused. And then the screaming started, bullets flying, but not in your direction. The sound of snapping bones punctuated the screams and gunshots, until finally, it was silent.

There was nothing in front of you, 049 sitting next to you as he leaned against the wall, panting and gripping his rifle.

And then, with the next flicker, it appeared in front of you, inches away. Its harmless-looking stubby arms reached out, its painted face strange and unseeing, and yet, its focus solely on you.

The overhead lights flickered again, casting you into brief darkness, and still 173 remained in place.

“How?” Your voice was faint. It was getting harder to draw breath.

“I can see in darkness,” 049 said grimly. “I will watch as long as I can. Blinking is not a necessity.”

The Eye Pods had vanished. If they were here, they could keep 173 in place, but they weren’t, and 049 needed to get somewhere safe.

There was… one thing you could do. One last act for him.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. You weren’t speaking only to 049. “It’s okay.”

You reached out and touched 173 on its stomach. The stone should have felt cold and lifeless, but it was warm, and hatred thrummed under your palm. It was a vibrant, visceral loathing that ran deep, a part of its nature as much as its limbs and painted face.

Its very existence was hatred, born out of a cruel origin it hadn’t chosen, forced into a box where its captors always watched. It hated the staring. The only relief it felt was when it could punish, and the captors couldn’t stare anymore.

All it wanted to do was kill, it had nearly killed you once, and all you felt for it was sadness.

You closed your eyes. You were so tired, your body sluggish as your thoughts wanted to do the same, but you concentrated. Focused on the thing inside of 173 that didn’t belong. The gaping wound that shouldn’t exist, that drove the anomaly to seek pain and death as a balm. And you began to close it.

The hatred dimmed, gradually, like a dying light, one that hurt to look at and would burn everything to ash if it could. But there was something still beautiful about it, and when it was extinguished, you felt its loss. This wasn’t like the black hole, or the suffering, time-dilated patient.

173 had been made of stone, but it was alive.

Had… been alive.

You opened your eyes. 049 was close, his mask inches away as he stared down at you, something rare and novel in his eyes. Fear.

At first, you thought it was fear of what you’d done. But then you realized his hand was pressed to your stomach, trying to stop the flow of blood. His other arm went around your back, and you barely registered the shift in gravity as he lifted you from the ground.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, looking past his shoulder to the SCP that stood there, unmoving. It would never move again, now just a strange piece of art in the flickering light.

The image of the lifeless statue vanished as you closed your eyes, and the world went still.

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp fanfiction #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 #scp foundation #wolveria writes #don't be too worried about the tags #but also ;)

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samstree · 7 days ago

Text

In New Light

post-canon obikin, 4k words, rated G. AO3 link here

The cat stares at Obi-Wan, blinking slowly with curious eyes.

“Well. Hello, there.”

Obi-Wan greets the creature at his door, staring back. The cat has sleek, black fur all over, except for the white streak on the side of his face. He is much smaller than a Loth-cat, with much shorter fur too. Possibly a less common sub-species of the tooka. He has blue eyes instead of yellow like most black cats, and oh—he’s missing a front leg.

A pang of sympathy swells in Obi-Wan chest. The poor thing. Where has he come from? Who is his owner? Did he wander all the way from the lower levels of Coruscant and into the Temple? Did he get injured because he’s a stray?

The cat sits on his tail, looking straight up as Obi-Wan crouches down before him.

“Hello, dear,” he greets the small creature again, this time in a much gentler tone. “Now, how have you wandered to my door?”

The cat meows, tilting his head, studying Obi-Wan for a moment before jumping right into his lap, making him let out a surprised sound. The missing leg does not hinder the little creature’s mobility, and he seems to have comfortably curled up against Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says. When the cat meows in return, he answers, “I know, dear. I know.”

The cat follows him for the entire day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here at the creche? The younglings will love you. I’m sure they already do.”

The small, dark creature hisses as a Togruta child attempts to pet him on the head, the rejection clear as day.

“Hmm.”

Obi-Wan cannot help but remember an equally grumpy padawan in the same situation. Anakin was fifteen when he was put on creche duty for the first time, and the boy all but jumped when the small children tried to hug him. The storm cloud remained on his face for a week despite the shower of affection from the younglings.

A smile comes to Obi-Wan’s face at the memory of Anakin’s teenage years, before it falls flat at the corners of his mouth.

There is no use thinking about it now.

Anakin already left.

He could never stay, not after what was revealed at the end of the war—Palpatine fooled everyone, and especially Anakin. The hurt ran too deep and too intertwined with the Order. It was a good thing that Anakin chose to resign after the Sith was destroyed, finding his independence, figuring out who he is outside of being a Jedi. He needed the distance, and it’s good he never looked back.

It’s a good thing, Obi-Wan tells himself again.

The cat has jumped to the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder with a displeased sound, right before burrowing into his neck and rubbing his face against Obi-Wan’s skin. The motion makes it look like the small creature is trying to soothe him, which is ridiculous. It’s not like Obi-Wan is sad.

“Come on,” he says, petting the cat on the head and getting another quiet meow in answer. “You are not staying, are you? Well, then. Let’s get going.”

He dreams of Anakin that night. Again.

“Oh, dear heart. I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan apologizes to the image of Anakin conjured up by his mind. “It must be from those thoughts of you during the day.”

Dream-Anakin sits cross-legged on what used to be his favorite futon, a bright, ethereal aura shimmering around him. That’s how Obi-Wan knows he’s dreaming.

It’s how he always knows.

The Anakin in his dreams always looks the same. With tousled hair and youthful features, a slight tightness around his eyes, worn down by war and grief. He also wears the same clothes every time, the dark Jedi robes that has become his staple, but singed at the hem from battle. He didn’t stay long enough at the Temple to change out of them after defeating the Sith.

It’s what Anakin looked like when they said goodbye for the last time. At the hangar bay, Obi-Wan watched this version of Anakin close the door of his shuttle.

He stayed there for hours afterwards.

“Why are you apologizing?” Anakin frowns.

Strange. Obi-Wan has never seen him frown in a dream.

Anakin has also never looked different. He seems…older, the lines of his face sharpened with maturity, those familiar curls cut short and parted to the other way. He is still the same man, but it’s almost like the years they spent apart are showing on his face.

Oh, how these dreams torment him.

“For this dream, of course,” Obi-Wan explains patiently, despite the well of sadness overflowing in his heart. He’ll always have patience for his former padawan, even when it’s only a figment of his imagination. “It’s a clear sign of attachment. Attachment I should have acknowledged and let go when you left.”

“When I left, of course,” Anakin murmurs, looking away. “A perfect Jedi like you must have gotten over it immediately. What was I thinking?”

Anakin’s voice trails into a quiet tremble, a crestfallen look written all over his face. It suddenly makes Obi-Wan unsure of himself—he never wants to make Anakin sad.

“No, Anakin… I—” Obi-Wan starts, “I merely meant that—I should have let go. It was… it would have been the right thing to do.”

“Was it really?”

Tears trail down Anakin��s cheek, glistening in the bright light of the dream.

When Obi-Wan wakes up to the shimmering morning light, he wipes away the wetness on his face. There is no peace to be found in the Force, so Obi-Wan gets up and pads towards the living room.

The cat is sound asleep, curled into a perfect ball on Anakin’s futon.

“Do you have an owner?”

Obi-Wan is mostly thinking out loud as the cat licks at the blue milk, pouring another serving into the plate when a whine prompts him.

“Possibly, but there is no collar.” He touches his beard, humming absently. “I still don’t understand how you got here. There’s a long way from the lower levels to my quarters.”

The cat stretches contently when he’s done eating, soon beginning to find anything and everything in Obi-Wan’s room to be the most interesting thing.

“Hey, not those drawers. That’s where Anakin kept his tools.”

He really should have cleared those out, but alas. A ball of electrical cords has become the cat’s new favorite toy.

“No, not the spanner—that’s too heavy for you! Stars, don’t leave a mess everywhere!”

Heedless of Obi-Wan’s warnings, the creature has spilled out all of Anakin’s old things across the floor and is having the time of his life. Obi-Wan can only sigh while cleaning after him. It is only when the cat starts to push his tea collection off the kitchen counter when he has to intervene.

“No, not those! Leave an old man with his favorite tea, will you?” From the scowl on the cat’s face, the little guy doesn’t seem to care. “You’re as frustrating as a certain padawan of mine, my new friend.”

With that, the cat stops in his tracks, jumps off the kitchen counter nimbly, and looks up at Obi-Wan with those big, rounded eyes.

“Perhaps I should name you Padawan, with the way you are behaving,” Obi-Wan huffs, but there is no real anger in his voice.

In truth, he doesn’t mind the little mess. His quarters have been immaculately clean for years, but it never looks right. The disarray somehow fills a part inside his chest that he didn’t know was missing.

“You think I’m jesting, but I assure you I am not,” Obi-Wan continues sternly, holding himself like the Jedi master he is. “It’s not like that role will be filled any time soon. You will do just fine.”

He doesn’t want to think about the perpetual void left in his life. Obi-Wan will never have another padawan again, not after the way he failed Anakin. He has made his peace with it.

He really has. He just needs to breathe through the ache that creeps into every fiber of his being on every lonely night.

A sad meow, as if in sympathy. Obi-Wan bends down to pick up the cat and sits himself on the floor by the window, letting the sunbeam warm the both of them.

“No, I won’t call you Padawan, then. I don’t think…” he swallows, smiling tightly at the creature as he gets comfortable. “I don’t think I can bear it.”

Those big blue feline eyes are so round, the irises are nearly disappearing. Somehow, the unusual blue eyes of the cat bring him a sense of unnamed reassurance. He would have found it disturbing, if they were yellow.

“Well then, I guess I’ll be the one to take care of you. Not as a master, but a friend. It’s a dangerous world out there if you’re alone. There is no one protecting you.” Obi-Wan strokes the sleek, black fur as the cat falls asleep in his lap. The creature doesn’t shy away when he touches the stump where the front leg should be. “Is that how you got hurt? Because you were out there by yourself?”

All the answer he gets is a gentle rub against his stomach.

“I wish I was there with you,” he murmurs to himself, the numb emptiness in his chest tinging with regret. “I wish I could have protected you.”

Obi-Wan falls asleep with the cat curled against his chest, the purring guiding him into a peaceful dream land.

Dream-Anakin sits by the window with the sunlight on his back, his expression inexplicably sad.

“Why won’t you take another padawan, master?”

They are so close together, the sun lining the tips of Anakin’s lashes gold. Obi-Wan could easily reach out and touch him. So he does.

It’s a dream, after all. There is no point in shaming himself for wanting.

The short curls feel good between Obi-Wan’s fingers, but he’s still getting used to the new look. He is spotting all the minute differences about this version of Anakin—the mature steadfastness, the lightness in his eyes, the stubble grown under his chin.

“I’m still not sure about the hair,” Obi-Wan tries to change the subject. If it’s his dream, he gets to be cheeky, he reckons. “Will you consider showing up in the long hair next time? Just for your old master’s sake.”

“Obi-Wan.”

A sigh, and Obi-Wan tries to retract his hand, but Anakin catches him gently. The warmth of his flesh hand is as real as the Force humming in the air.

“Why would they trust me with another small child?” Obi-Wan finally says. “I wouldn’t trust myself.”

The offence on Anakin’s face is palpable. “You are the best master out there. Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

Obi-Wan laughs self-deprecatingly. “I’m sure you’d disagree.”

“Well, I’m right here, and I say you’re perfect!”

It’s ironic that the Anakin from his subconscious would defend him so, when the real Anakin knows more than anyone of Obi-Wan’s failure.

“I lost you, Anakin,” he simply says.

It ends the argument. Anakin closes his mouth, the sadness returning to his blue eyes.

It isn’t too bad, having a feline friend in Obi-Wan’s life.

His quarters seem less empty with a cat in it, along with everything he has added to make his new friend comfortable. The toys are now laid out, along with a new shelf for climbing. The cat bed is placed by the window, but rarely used when the little guy prefers to sleep on either Anakin’s old futon or by the foot of Obi-Wan’s bed. His habit of making a mess quieted down after a period of adjustment, and now Obi-Wan has learned to leave his expensive teas in the cupboard.

The cat loves the house plants, though. Obi-Wan is not sure if he’s imagining it, but his plants have never looked better, growing lusher and greener by the day. He has never been the best at taking care of them. It was Anakin who had a stronger connection to the Living Force.

When the ferns start to droop, the dark fluffy creature would fall asleep under their shade. When he wakes up, the leaves seem to gain new life again.

Obi-Wan also talks to the cat more and more these days.

The dreams persist. Every time he closes his eyes, there is Anakin. Sitting in their living room, or cooking in the kitchen, sometimes even curled up against Obi-Wan’s side in his bed.

Those dreams are the hardest. Obi-Wan’s mind is cruel to let him look at Anakin so closely, only to wake up alone in the quiet dark. The only consolation is the gentle, inquisitive meows of his cat friend.

He lets the furry thing bury his face against his neck to soothe the heartbreak. The pain lets up enough at some point, and he can breathe again. And then, Obi-Wan begins to talk.

He misses Anakin so much that the ache fills all the space inside his chest. If he doesn’t tell someone about it, he fears he will burst from it, and a cat is a good enough listener.

He lets his tongue run freely, trusting his memories to lead them from one story to another, jumping between the years they shared together. The pain and regret have been laying on his heart so heavily that Obi-Wan has nearly forgotten the joy that came with Anakin’s name.

His laughter, his passion, his unrelenting curiosity.

Anakin was his sun, but now, he has no one to share that warmth but a small cat.

“Did you know he cried when I took him to see rain for the first time?” Obi-Wan chuckles at the memory. “He was trying to catch all the raindrops, and when he couldn’t, he started to panic about wasting the water. Poor boy… I should have thought of that and not chosen the rainforest for our first mission.”

Obi-Wan lets out all the love he has kept inside. With only a small creature knowing his worst secret, he has never loved Anakin more freely.

“Do you think he could be in trouble? Knowing Anakin, he must have gotten himself into some sort of conundrum. More than once over the years, I assume. I worry for him too much, I know,” he whispers, letting the cat perch around his shoulders. “He’s too headstrong, too stubborn, much to his own detriment. He always tries to protect everyone, and never learned that he needed protecting too. I… I would have, had he let me.”

He drifts off again, worrying, wondering.

The dream is so warm that Obi-Wan never wishes to leave. He curls around the weight of Anakin’s body, wraps an arm around his waist to pull him even closer.

It feels good to steal these moments, basking in Anakin’s presence, just so he can keep on going in the land of the walking.

“What if I really am in trouble?” Anakin asks with mirth in his eyes. “It’s a big galaxy. I could run into someone dangerous. Say… a witch! Like in those fairytales on the holonet. She cursed me to be trapped in the body of a small animal, and the only way to lift the curse—”

He stops himself, the implication hanging in the air.

Obi-Wan finishes the thought for him, knowing this ridiculous boy and his romantic tendencies.

“True love, is it? The only way to lift the curse,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing their noses together. “I’ll find you, save you from the curse, and we’ll get to live happily ever after.”

Anakin blushes, his lashes cast down. “Yes, just like that. It’s really simple, master.”

Hope shines in Anakin’s eyes, bright and sweet, but Obi-Wan’s heart sinks.

“If only it was, dear heart.”

“Can you believe them? Denied!”

Obi-Wan huffs, chest rising and falling from anger. He lets the datapad fall to the sofa. On the screen is his application to take leave from the Temple, big red letters showing Application Denied at the top.

“I’m not even asking for long. It’ll take two—alright, maybe three—months at most! I’m a war general, for Force’s sake. I infiltrated the separatist headquarters! How long is it going to take me to find one person? Just one!”

Artoo’s light flickers, letting out a quiet beep in answer. He doesn’t dare move his dome due to the dark, fluffy creature perched on top of him, tail tucked away cozily. Both droid and cat blink at Obi-Wan as his rant comes to a stop.

It’s almost disturbing how well they are getting along. Obi-Wan has not seen Artoo take a liking to someone, or something, this quickly since Anakin left.

“I just want to see him.” Obi-Wan’s shoulders slump, all the fight leaving his body with resignation. "They are right about me—it’s... it's a sign of attachment. I just…”

A lump forms in his throat, and Obi-Wan turns his head away. It would be embarrassing to cry in front of a droid and a cat, but it’s hard to care when the loneliness overwhelms him like a tide.

Obi-Wan may have been slowly drowning all this time. He’s only realizing now.

That night, Obi-Wan silently opens his blanket in silent invitation. Soon enough, a dark lump of fluff enters his bed.

It’s unbefitting of a Jedi of his age and experience to need the comfort of a creature as small and fragile, but when the warmth of the cat curls around his chest, Obi-Wan finds it a little easier to breathe.

When fitful sleep claims him, his fingers are still buried in soft fur, his nose pressed against a fluffy head. His breath hitches from time to time, but a gentle, careful nudge always soothes him.

Dream-Anakin appears from under Obi-Wan’s covers, those dark curls sticking out everywhere as if someone has been ruffling his hair.

“Oh, master… Hey, come here. What’s wrong?”

Anakin’s voice is full of concern. His flesh hand reaches out to cup Obi-Wan’s chin, a thumb running small circles as if he has been preparing to comfort Obi-Wan, and now he finally has the chance.

Wouldn’t that be a nice reality? Anakin being there, always, ready to defend Obi-Wan from the sadness within him.

“They won’t let me come to you,” is Obi-Wan’s answer.

“Oh?”

Their bodies tangle up under the bedcover, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces. The warmth of Anakin gives Obi-Wan strength, so he lets out all the frustration.

“I thought I could see you, just this once. Just to make sure you’re alright. And I know, Anakin, when you left, you wanted nothing to do with the Order. With…” He lets the ache linger, lets Anakin see his hurt. “You wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Not you. Never you.”

A protest, so quiet it’s almost not there.

“Still, I was being selfish,” Obi-Wan continues. “I should not try to bother you again. Not after everything that happened. You must loathe to see an old man from your past, reminding you of all that hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Anakin insists, desperate. He pulls their bodies impossibly close, rubbing his forehead against Obi-Wan’s temple. “You were the kindest thing in my life. I just couldn’t see it until I left, and I—I never thought you’d still want to find me again, not after all this time.”

“How could I not? The thought of you being out there by yourself—” Obi-Wan’s voice shakes. “I thought I could bear it, Anakin, give it to the Force. I’m failing even that.”

It’s more than Obi-Wan has ever been willing to admit even to himself, alone in the quiet dark. Grief and foolishness have made him brave.

Anakin observes him with meaning in his eyes, remaining silent for a moment longer as if gathering courage himself. When he speaks next, his words are steady and patient.

“If you could see me now—the real me, right here with you, would you want to?”

Something about Anakin is different, beyond the shorter hair and the lines of his face. The warmth around him intensifies, the bright aura hums with anticipation. There is hope, so much hope rising from the ashes of the lost years between them, and Obi-Wan will not fail that again.

“I do. I want more than anything to be with you again, you must know,” he answers honestly.

“And why is that?”

“Because… I…”

“Say it, Obi-Wan. I just need you to say it.” A smile curls at Anakin’s lips. “I just need you.”

Oh, and how can Obi-Wan ever refuse that? He wasn’t there when Anakin needed him most, and it was already the biggest mistake of his life, but now…

Anakin is asking him of something again, and it’s something so simple. Only Obi-Wan himself, laying his heart bare.

He gives away his heart. Easily.

“It’s because I love you,” Obi-Wan says, plain and true. “I love you, Anakin.”

Light and warmth fills the dream, but nothing is brighter than the smile on Anakin’s face, his happiness almost from a fairytale.

Obi-Wan nearly chokes on a mess of curls when consciousness returns to him.

Long limbs tangle around him, weighing heavily in the small bed. Naked skin presses against his torse, the warmth bursting like a sun. The morning light slips through the curtains, casting layers of silver in the room.

The body around him stirs, taking in a long breath. The dark curls lift up, and then, blue eyes are meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze, blinking slowly.

Obi-Wan went to bed with a small cat curled against his chest, but wakes up with a full-sized, naked Anakin right between his arms.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Was that you this whole time?”

He hardly cares about the answer when Anakin stares at him for a beat, and then bursts out laughing. It’s so beautiful that the experience of hearing it for the first time in years nearly steals all the breath out of Obi-Wan’s lungs.

“Anakin.”

With a flip of his body, Anakin has straddled across Obi-Wan’s hips, pinning him down. He managed that too easily—how has he gotten so much stronger? What happened to Anakin when Obi-Wan is not there?

When Obi-Wan looks up, he’s now seeing Anakin in a new light. He looks the same as in those dreams, the hair still tragically short, but dream could never compare to the sight before Obi-Wan’s eyes. The years have only made Anakin more beautiful, adding sharp angles to his jaw, elegant lines at the corners of his eyes.

Obi-Wan reaches out to touch, and lets out a breath of relief when skin connects with skin.

This is real. Anakin has come back to him.

“Did you mean it?”

Anakin can barely hide the smile with Obi-Wan cradling his cheek, tracing the lines of his chin. He turns to rub against Obi-Wan’s palm, tickling his skin. It seems something remains the same, even when he’s no longer trapped in a cat’s body.

“Between us, you are the believer of fairytales,” Obi-Wan answers, patiently. “The curse wouldn’t have broken otherwise. But you know I did, Anakin. How could I not? Though I have a question for you too.”

There will be no more lost years, Obi-Wan vows to himself. He’d fight another war before he lets himself lose Anakin again. They have all the time ahead to grow closer again, to share stories. To heal.

“I love you too,” Anakin answers cheekily, “if that’s your question. Of course I do, and it didn’t take being cursed into a blasted cat for me to realize.”

The insolence on Anakin’s face looks exactly the same as old memories, with a pout on his lips and defiance in his eyes. Obi-Wan can’t help his own laughter.

His fingers tug at the short curls at Anakin’s nape, schooling his expression back to something resembling displeasure.

“I meant to ask if you will grow the hair out again, dear heart.”

And from the looks of it, his request will be fulfilled easily enough. They have all the time in the world, after all, in their own happily ever after.

#obikin #obikin fic #cat anakin #nyanakin #help it got sad by accident

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lavellenchanted · 4 months ago

Note

prompt: fredwina + “can you just look at me? please?” 💕

“Are you insane?” Edwina hisses as she steps out into the gardens, careful to shut the doors quietly behind her in case any of the servants are still awake and downstairs. “If Lady Danbury or my mother finds you here, there will be hell to pay.”

Still playing with the handful of pebbles he had been using to throw at her window, Friedrich only lifts an eyebrow. “Then we will have to be quiet, no? But you did not leave me much choice, Schatz.”

He is still in his suit from the ball, but his waistcoat is now unbuttoned and his cravat hangs loose around his neck. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving Edwina perfect view of the hollow of his throat, and the lines of his collarbones as they meet his chest. It’s a warm night, but she feels a shiver run down her spine.

Glad of the darkness to hide her blush, she looks away and focuses on a nearby flowerpot. She’s highly aware of the fact that she is only in a nightgown and robe, and that her hair is falling loose down her back. If anyone were to see them like this, what’s left of her tattered reputation would be completely destroyed. The thought sends a ripple of resentment through her. Does he not care?

No, of course he doesn’t. She should know that by now.

She can’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice as she replies, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you have gone out of your way to avoid me this evening.”

“I have not.”

She has.

“You barely looked at me once – you will not even look at me now!” He has the gall to sound frustrated. “And every time I tried to ask you to dance you found a different partner.”

“I simply had a full dance card.”

She did not. She has not had a full dance card since last Season.

Judging by the depth of the silence behind her, he is not impressed by her lying.

“Edwina.” With a quiet start, she realises his voice is suddenly much closer; a moment later she feels the warmth of him standing right behind her, and she hates the way her insides flutter despite herself at his use of her given name. “I think I deserve to know what I have done to cause you such offence that you would rather dance with Lord Collingwood than with me.”

That was particularly spiteful on her part. Lord Collingwood is nearly in his seventies, wears the most terrible wig and has false teeth. He also, as it turns out, has both incredibly bad breath and a poor sense of timing, so her spite backfired and the quadrille she had to dance with him felt more like she was punishing herself than Friedrich.

“You mean besides throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?”

“Liebling. What did I do? You must tell me, otherwise how I can make it right?”

There is such soft earnestness in his voice that she’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. There is no making this right, and it is downright cruel of him to pretend that there is.

“You lied to me. You toyed with me and used me, even knowing that I –” Her voice catches, and she hates herself for it because she does not want to show him any weakness, this infuriatingly golden boy who pretended to patch up her cracks while all the time he was simply prying them further open. “You have made me the fool again.”

“What? What are you talking about? I have never lied to you, Edwina, I swear it.”

“I heard your servants talking, Friedrich, at your card party last week. They were discussing your betrothal, whether you would visit Prussia and have your wedding before you return to the battlefield.”

Bringing her arms up, she wraps them around herself, remembering the cold dread that had settled in her stomach when she caught the conversation and began to understand what the footmen were talking about. The sick feeling when she realised that if Friedrich was betrothed to someone in Prussia, then that betrothal would have already taken place before she had ever met him – that he had had someone waiting for him the entire time she was getting to know him, talking with him, dancing with him.

Falling in love with him.

Last year she had learned what it was to have her heart broken. This year she had learned was it was for her heart to shatter.

“You flirted with me. You made me think – You know what was happened to me last year. And this whole time, you have had a fiancée. How is that not lying?”

“Edwina, look at me.”

Tears gather along her lashes as she shakes her head and she squeezes her eyes shut to try and keep them from falling. She cannot look at him – cannot bear to turn and see how wrong she was about the man she thought she knew. Not again.

“No.”

Suddenly she feels his fingers, warm and callused, gently gripping her chin and she catches her breath. He turns her head around so that, presumably, she is facing him.

“Can you just look at me? Please?” he whispers, so quietly she almost doesn't hear him even though there must only be scant inches between them.

She can already feel her defences crumbling, and when he whispers again, "Please," she cannot stop herself from opening her eyes.

Immediately the tears she's held back slide down her cheeks, but Friedrich wipes them away. The moonlight paints him in silver, and his face is filled with tender sorrow as he gazes down at her. One loose strand of hair falls across his forehead and even now Edwina wants to reach up and brush it back.

"Edwina, schatz," he says, very slowly and carefully. "I promise you, I am not betrothed to anyone."

What?

"But, they said -"

He cuts her off, one corner of his mouth curling in faint, exasperated amusement. "If my servants were talking about my wedding, it is because they are all fully aware of my intention to propose to you before I return home and have assumed you will accept."

Edwina thinks her heart might have stopped beating. She has definitely stopped breathing.

"They ... are?"

"I have not made a secret of how much I enjoy your company. And they could hardly fail to notice when I wrote to my mother to ask her to send my grandmother's ring."

Edwina's head is spinning as she struggles to take in this new information, and her legs feel abruptly rather weak. He had asked for his grandmother's ring? He truly meant to propose?

He has not just been playing with her all this time?

"Oh."

It's an entirely inadequate response, but words are beyond her right now. There is too much happening inside her for her to be able to speak.

"Ja." Friedrich smiles softly at her, reassuring her that he is not angry at her misunderstanding, but there is still a hint of sadness to it. "Meine Liebe, why did you not come and ask me about what you heard?"

She owes him an explanation, but it at the same time she does not know how to explain.

"I don't know - I wanted to, it's just . . ." She sighs. "I was afraid, I suppose."

"Do you still not trust me?"

"I trust you more than anyone." Which is perhaps not saying as much as she wishes, when her trust in anything is so fragile these days. "But I have been so wrong before . . . "

"It is easy to believe you would be again," Friedrich finishes for her. "I understand. But I hope that will not always be so. Just tell me now - do you believe me? That there is no one in my heart but you? Or must I offer more proof?"

A warm blush spreads across her cheeks, and it is amazing how the heart that only a few minutes ago she would sworn was broken beyond repair is now singing in her chest and making her feel as though she could fly if she chose.

Holding his gaze, she asks, "What more proof do you have to offer?"

He blinks in surprise, concern flitting briefly across his face before he slowly starts to grin.

"Only this," he says, and brings his head down to press his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft and chaste at first, a gentle stroke of his mouth against hers - once, twice; then it deepens, as he tilts her head further up to a better angle and teases her lips open with his tongue. Each movement of his mouth is slow and deliberate, like he's content to take all the time in world to make his point, and Edwina feels it through her entire body. Her blood has turned to lightning in her veins and she feels drunk on it, wanting nothing more than to press herself as close to Friedrich as possible and lose herself in his arms.

Brings her hands up, she curls her fingers into his shirt and tugs. She feels him laughing into the kiss and nips his bottom lip with her teeth in remonstration - but he finally sweeps her into his embrace and the world around them disappears, replaced by the sound of their shared breaths and the feel of his heartbeat, thundering just as hard as her own, against her breast, and glorious, blissful taste of his lips and tongue as he kisses her over and over and over.

When they finally break part she has wrapped her arms around his neck and it is only his arms around her keeping her upright. Smiling still, Friedrich gently bumps the side of her nose with his.

"Do you believe me now?"

Voice hushed, Edwina nods and answers, "Yes, I do."

"Good." He presses another soft kiss to the side of her head. "May I also take that as a yes to my proposal?"

"Proposal? I don't recall you actually asking me anything."

"I -" He stares at her for a moment, and then they both dissolve into giggles. "No, I suppose I did not. And I suppose the proper thing would be to speak with your mother first."

Edwina wrinkles her nose. "Technically. But I think we are a little way past proper."

He gives a cheerful sigh. "Well, we must still try. But if I call on you tomorrow and speak to your mother, what will your answer be?"

She smiles, and has no idea that it's the most radiant sight Friedrich's ever seen.

"It will be yes, of course," she says, and kisses him again. After all, there's no longer any reason why she can't.

#bridgerton #edwina sharma #prince friedrich #fredwina #edwina x friedrich #otp: a diamond and her prince #my fic

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fortheloveof-sebastian · 2 years ago

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Ineffable Charm, Good Looks, and Deft Fingers

Pairings: Sebastian x F!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has a solution to the stubborn piece of hair distracting you from studying.

Warnings: fluff, Sebastian being suave

Word Count: 750

A/N: At this point, I’m no longer in control. Sebastian is. I think I made myself blush.

Also, in this scenario, Reader has long hair.

The whisper of pages being turned filled the library, along with the low chatter of the first years sitting besides you. Normally you would’ve exercised some of your seniority in the matter — there were millions of other places to talk — but you were focused instead on the stubborn piece of hair repeatedly falling into your face.

You huff. The hair shoots up, then falls limply back into place. Right in front of one eye.

It wouldn’t have bothered you, but considering that you were bent over a book, there was no way to avoid it unless you held the book over your head like a maniac. Partially tempted, you debate it in all seriousness, but a familiar voice interrupts you before you have the chance.

“Well look at you,” Sebastian chirps. “For once not in the Restricted Section. I didn’t know that you realized there were other parts of the library.”

You glare at him. “I’m surprised that they even let you in here.”

“It’s my ineffable charm and good looks. No one can resist it, not even ole Scribner.”

You open your mouth to respond but the same offending piece of hair falls, and sticks to the corner of your mouth. Sputtering, you grab for it. Sebastian, rolling his eyes, leans across the table and brushes it away. The touch of his hand on your cheek, so close to your lips, creates an intense burning sensation in your chest.

“Do you need a hand with that?”

You frown, pushing the hair away. “With what?”

Sebastian makes a gesture that encompasses your entire being. “Your hair.”

“Oh.” Nervously, you shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“Clearly it’s not.”

Sebastian edges around the table. His expression is so genuine and earnest that it temporarily subdues you, enough to let him move behind you; until his fingers start running through your hair, and you’re afraid you might literally fall out of your chair. You grip onto the edges of it.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

You can’t see him, but you can feel him moving. His actions are swift, confident.

“I’m braiding your hair,” he tells you.

Skeptically, you ask, “You know how to braid?”

“Mmhm,” he says, focused. Sure enough, he begins to smooth your hair away from your face and pull it back.

The first years stop whispering to watch this new development, and you feel your cheeks growing hot. “Where did you learn how to braid?”

Sebastian takes his time replying. You’re nervous that you’ve offended him somehow, but he eventually replies, “After Anne got sick, her hair got in the way a lot and she was too weak to move it. She didn’t want to cut it off. Our…our mum always preferred it long.” You hear the swish of his robes, and know that he’s shrugging. “So I learned how to braid.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, Sebastian,” you say after a moment of collecting your thoughts.

Whether he’s too busy or immersed in memories, you’re not sure, but this time he doesn’t reply. A few moments pass, and then his tone changes, transforming from melancholic back to its usual cheerfulness. “And done!” He exclaims.

Playfully, he flicks the braid over your shoulder before sitting down besides you.

Your hands fly up to the braid, and you stroke it, absurdly like one might a horse’s mane. You’re conflicted — it was an impressive braid, but you wished desperately that he hadn’t had to learn how to do it. You didn’t know any other fifteen year old boys who could braid hair.

“Thank you,” you mutter.

A flicker of sadness crosses his face but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. He smiles. “I hope you know I’m charging you next time. I won’t allow you to take advantage of my braiding prowess and my ineffable charm.”

“And good looks,” you add.

You’re aiming for a taunt, but you basically just admitted that you agree with him.

Sebastian’s smile grows wickedly wider. Instead of capitalizing on the moment, though, he grabs the bottom of your chair and effortlessly scoots you closer to him.

Merlin’s beard, was there anything he did that didn’t make you feel as if a hippogriff was taking flight in your stomach?

“Now that your hair is — quite literally — out of the way, let’s see what we have here. I’ll have you know that on top of my deft fingers, charm, and good looks, I’m also devastatingly intelligent.”

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #harry potter #slytherin #braid #sebastian sallow x reader #x reader

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year ago

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Hi, could we get some slightly suggestive fluff where Ominis can’t help but think “what a terrible day to be blind” regarding being told MC looks good? Maybe teasing from Sebastian! Thank you! Love your writing!

hello lovely anon!! i will confess, as much as i adore writing ominis, sometimes i get nervous when it comes to writing about his blindness because i don’t have experience being blind and i would never want to write something offensive or insensitive.

but i truly don’t think this drabble is that! this word dump is just to say that if i ever come at being blind from an inappropriate place, i hope someone does me the favor of letting me know 💕 anyway here’s your fic! thank you for the request and your kind words!!

(also this turned into shadow trio because i couldn’t resist 😇)

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Ominis smirks and mumbles, “You must look lovely if even Sebastian has no words." "Oh, I have plenty," Sebastian counters. "'Ravishing' is a start." "Stop, you menace," you mumble, gently smacking his shoulder with an appreciative smile. "What a terrible day to be blind," Ominis jokes, but Sebastian notices the way he self-consciously rubs the back of his neck and wonders if maybe he isn't truly joking.

“Remind me again how you convinced your parents to let you stay for the holidays?” Sebastian asks, nudging his shoulder against Ominis as the two boys lingered outside the Ravenclaw common room.

Ominis sighs. “Truthfully, I think they’re more pleased about the arrangement than I am.”

Sebastian snorts – he’s probably right.

“They’ve invited a cadre of Ministry officials to Christmas Eve,” he continues. “It’s probably best if I’m not there to argue against their lobbying efforts.”

“What is it this time, ‘we should be able to torture Muggles’ or ‘Muggle-borns shouldn’t be at Hogwarts?’” Sebastian drawls.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Ominis sniffs. “Though I’m sure Marvolo will have an entire treatise to present.”

“Ah, the golden child,” Sebastian laughs darkly.

“In any case, I suppose the two of you will have to endure me gatecrashing your holidays,” Ominis says, grinning ruefully. “Thank you, really.”

“Are you joking? You’re always welcome,” Sebastian insists. “Though I suppose if she doesn’t come downstairs soon, it might just be you and me at the feast.”

“Merlin, I’m only five minutes late,” you call out from the top of the stairs, and Sebastian first sees your feet and then the skirts of your dress as you start to climb down.

Ominis had readily agreed to wait with Sebastian to walk you to Hogwarts’ Christmas Eve feast, figuring that it was the chivalrous thing to do – not to mention that he had grown to sincerely enjoy your company. You were as much his best friend as Sebastian was by your seventh year, and even though you and Sebastian had made things official shortly after the school year began, he had never felt excluded.

That is, until this very moment.

Sebastian falls silent, which is a rare instance in itself. Ominis hears you as you make your way down the stairs, coming to a stop in front of the both of you.

“Well?” you ask brightly. “How do I look?”

The Christmas Eve feast is more formal than a regular meal in the Great Hall, so both Sebastian and Ominis had donned finer suits and dress robes for the occasion.

You had taken a trip to Hogsmeade with Natty a few days prior to pick up a new dress from Gladrags – a deep cranberry red, with long tapered sleeves to ward off the chill of the castle and a waist so tight that Deek had fetched Feenky to help you pull the laces of your corset closed.

Sebastian wordlessly makes a circle with his index finger and you giggle, blushing while you spin and let your skirts fan out.

He whistles under his breath, and you do a little bow.

Ominis smirks and mumbles, “You must look lovely if even Sebastian has no words.”

“Oh, I have plenty,” Sebastian counters. “‘Ravishing’ is a start.”

“Stop, you menace,” you mumble, gently smacking his shoulder with an appreciative smile.

“What a terrible day to be blind,” Ominis jokes, but Sebastian notices the way he self-consciously rubs the back of his neck and wonders if maybe he isn’t truly joking.

He reaches out to take Ominis’ hand, glancing briefly at your face to get your permission before taking the surprised boy’s palm and placing it on your sleeve.

“She’s wearing a red dress,” Sebastian starts, squeezing Ominis’ hand so he’ll actually feel. “It’s a darker color – the kind of red everyone likes around the holidays.”

“Not switching over to Gryffindor, are you?” Ominis asks, the anxious twitching of his fingertips on your arm belying his nerves.

“It suits her skin tone,” Sebastian offers, dragging Ominis’ hand upwards so he can feel the ruched top of your sleeve, which Mister Hill had told you is quite fashionable.

“Tell him about my hair,” you murmur, meeting Sebastian’s gaze and answering the question in his eyes that he hadn’t asked aloud.

“Her hair?” Ominis asks. “It’s long, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees. “But tonight she has it in a braid, and she’s charmed some wrapping paper into a bow at the end.”

“I’ll have you know I folded that bow myself,” you say with a smirk. “No magic necessary.”

“Very clever,” Ominis says softly, and Sebastian lifts his hand so he can trace his fingertips over the silky bow.

“Anything else you’d like to know, Ominis?” Sebastian asks suggestively, and Ominis wonders whether he’s imagining the sudden tension thrumming between the three of you.

“N-no, I’m quite convinced,” he says, letting his hand drop. “‘Ravishing’ is quite apt.”

“Ominis,” you say softly, taking his hand in yours while Sebastian claims the other. “Perhaps after the feast, you’ll join Sebastian and me for a nightcap in the Room of Requirement?”

The blond boy swallows audibly, and Sebastian is thrilled at this development.

“We’ve got some presents to exchange, don’t we love?” he adds, somehow making it sound lewd.

“Y-yes, of course,” Ominis stutters. “I would love to.”

You then let each boy take one of your arms to walk you toward the Great Hall for the feast, wondering just how long you’ll have to wear this corset after all.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian x ominis x mc #shadow trio #my fic #requests

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tinyinvadr · 1 year ago

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I’m back with another chapter! Thank you all so much for supporting this fic! It’s cool to know that people like the same stuff as I do, and it motivates me to write more!

Ch. 1/Ch. 2

Hide & Shrink

Chapter 3

I woke up on a plush surface, practically sinking into it. There was a part of me that wanted to still believe my entire experience with the Digital Circus was a dream, but I knew that couldn’t be true.

This wasn’t my bed. Not my real bed, at least. In fact, it didn’t feel like a bed at all, more like a giant pillow.

Right. The last thing that happened before I passed out was when I realized that Caine couldn’t change me back to my normal size. Which meant wherever I was, I was likely still tiny.

I finally opened my eyes, and the bright colors surrounding me were almost blinding. Massive blankets and pillows of every shade stretched as far as I could see.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the pillows were kind of nice. It reminded me of pillow forts…

Of course. This was Kinger’s pillow fort. That made sense, since he was holding me before I passed out. He probably brought me there so I could rest.

“Oh, Pomni, you’re awake! You really had us scared back there.”

I don’t know how I didn’t notice that Kinger was also in the fort with me right away. Then again, he kind of blended in. His robes almost looked like one of the blankets.

I tried to scoot myself back, but the pillow was too soft and I ended up just sinking into it further.

“Oh, did you need help getting up? I’ve got you!”

Kinger started to reach for me, and I frantically tried to move away faster.

“Nononono! It’s okay! I’m okay!”

He could tell I was panicking and stopped, glancing away in shame.

“Aw, I’m sorry. I must be freaking you out right now. I know I’d be terrified if I was in your place. But there’s nothing to worry about! I won’t grab you again, and it’s perfectly safe in my impenetrable fortress, so we can just wait here until Caine gets this whole thing sorted out.”

Admittedly, I needed the levity, so I gave Kinger a nod of approval and willingly let myself sink into the pillow. I could see why he liked to hide in his fort. It was like a little break room from the overwhelming insanity of the circus.

But it wasn’t as impenetrable as he thought it was.

A pillow on the bottom of the fort suddenly slid out of place, and before either of us could react, a huge assortment of pillows and blankets came crashing down on us.

It was a chain reaction of disaster as Kinger fell onto the pillow I was laying on, and the sudden weight shift sent me flying into the air, only to fall on my face a couple inches away. As I struggled to push myself up, I could hear the voices of the others.

“Jax! What did you do that for?!”

“What? I wanted a pillow.”

“But… Pomni could’ve gotten hurt…”

“These are cartoon physics we’re workin’ with here. She’s fine, look.”

For the third time, I was grabbed without warning and lifted into the air, this time by Jax. The thought of what he might do made me sick. The others at least seemed like they were worried about me, but it was pretty clear that he didn’t care.

In front of me stood Ragatha, Gangle, and Zooble, all looking concerned. Well, at least Ragatha and Gangle. Zooble’s expressions are kind of hard to read.

“She doesn’t look fine…”

“Yeah. I’m sure she LOVES being grabbed like that, Jax. Totally not traumatizing at all.”

Jax simply laughed off their concerns, emoting by moving his hands and arms around a lot in a way that was definitely intentional.

“Hey, come on, you guys, Pomni can speak for herself. If she didn’t like it she’d say something. Isn’t that right, Pom?”

By the time he stopped talking and moving me around, I couldn’t hold back and I threw up. Again.

Jax quickly dropped me and backed up in disgust.

“Ew. Somebody call Bubble.”

Right as he said that, Bubble appeared in front of me, way too close for comfort.

“Cleanup crew at your service!”

I backed up as he started licking up the vomit just as he did the day before. He’s really a freaky little thing. Though he didn’t look so little from my perspective.

Caine appeared shortly afterward, shaking his head(?) at Bubble, but then shifted his attention to me.

“Goodness gracious! You sure are prone to getting sick, aren’t you? Do you need anything? Want me to carry you to your room?”

The last thing I wanted was to be picked up again, so I queasily backed up in protest.

“No, no, it’s fine, I can get there by myself.”

Just as I regained my balance enough to start walking away, Jax walked in front of me, nearly stepping on me.

“You sure about that, shorty?”

Ragatha glared at him again as she made her way over to Caine.

“Anyway, Caine, have you made any progress on finding a way to fix Pomni?”

“Nope! Still working on it! But don’t worry, I’m sure a solution will come to me soon! After all, this is the digital world, and anything is possible!”

Zooble scoffed. “Yeah. Anything except leaving.”

“That’s the spirit, Zooble! Now then, Pomni, I leave the choice up to you if you want any of us to escort you to your room, or anywhere else you might like to go!”

I really would have preferred to be alone, but that wasn’t an option on the off chance that Jax decided to try anything else. I needed someone I could trust. I needed the one person I’d been avoiding.

Keeping my eyes glued to the ground, I approached Ragatha.

“Um… Ragatha? Can I go with you?”

She didn’t say a word, and kneeled down in front of me, her hands resting on the floor. I looked up to meet her eyes, and she gave a reassuring smile as if to say that this would all be on my own terms, and she wasn’t going to grab me.

I was still hesitant to even get near her, but she had a calm patience that the others didn’t. It was like she was willing to wait there for as long as it took until I was ready. In each passing moment I could feel my nerves ease just a little bit more, and finally, I took the first step onto her hand.

Due to her being a rag doll, Ragatha’s hands didn’t feel much different from the pillow I was sitting on earlier. I sat myself down, continuing to look up at her as she watched and waited.

“You okay?” She asked, her voice soft and warm. I simply nodded, and she continued to smile and wait. “Just let me know when you’re ready for me to stand up.”

I gave her another nod of approval, and she slowly stood up, holding me close to her for support, but not too tight to where I felt trapped. As she lifted me up, I could see the others looking on in surprise at how calm I seemed.

“Alright guys, I’ll be back in a bit.” Ragatha said as she turned to walk down the hallways where everyone’s rooms were.

As soon as we were far enough away from the group, I finally worked up the courage to speak again.

“I… thank you…”

She let out a content sigh as she continued walking.

“Hey, I’ve got your back.”

#giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #g/t writing #tadc g/t

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jedidryad · 9 months ago

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Six Sentence Sunday: Conversations that should have happened.

I don't do this particular tradition much. I have enough trouble managing WIP Wednesdays, and I'm pretty sure this segment is more than six sentences so I'm messing with the tradition as I attempt it which might be poor form.

While working on this Mara memoir, I have sometimes found my brain wants the story to go in a different direction than canon allows. Some of these imagined sequences can turn into other "Luke and Mara get together stories" and some of them don't really merit that but still demand to be typed into a doc in black and white so I can stare at them and think of how different canon would have gone if the conversation had happened. This one is a brief snippet from a far more rambling discussion that might have happened if, instead of scolding and abandoning Mara after Kyp stole her ship on her first night at the academy, Luke had the insight to pull back after his outburst and ask Corran to escort Mara to his office and get her a cup of tea. If he had promised to meet her there after he calms the students and does post-Kyp damage control.

Maybe something like this could have happened...

Mara glanced up from the cup of elba she’d been holding in a death grip.

Luke stood in the doorway, robe hanging off his shoulders. His white sleep clothes made him look less imposing but also reminded Mara of just how good he had looked in an undertunic on Myrkr

He hesitated at her baleful expression but didn’t let her continued silence deter him. He entered his office, and sat down in the chair next to hers rather than circling around to his desk.

“I thought when I sensed your emotions that it was a…” he paused, clearly choosing his words carefully, “more the sort of danger that meant everyone needed to evacuate, instead of something more personal.”

“So you sounded the alarm.”

“Yeah. and then I had to come up with some sort of explanation…”

“I embarrassed you.”

“I embarrassed me, Mara.” He sighed, “I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I’m not really feeling much like a confident Jedi these days.”

“Great,” she muttered, “Karrde sent me here because he thought a confident Jedi could help me with my mess. Now what’ll I do?”

Luke’s gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders drooping. He seemed to fold in on himself.

Mara grimaced and set her mug on the small table between them: “Okay, not funny then.”

He glanced up at her, clearly trying to read her gaze from under the hair that was now falling into his eyes.

“You were trying to be funny?”

“I’m not my best self right now, Skywalker.”

“Neither am I.”

“Great."

“The whole galaxy knows what’s wrong with me. What’s up with you?”

“They don’t." She picked up her mug again and tried to let the warmth soak into her, "they really don’t. No one who didn’t sense you had any idea.”

“You sensed it?”

She nodded: “You and Kyle took a dip at the same time. I was with him. I sensed you.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

“Why is that? You want to be some all-powerful master?”

He snorted ruefully.

“No, but I didn't particularly want to lose your respect.”

“Skywalker, I served a Sith Master for my entire childhood. Do you think slipping for a little while would be enough to lose my respect?”

“I wasn’t sure. Master Yoda said ‘if once you start down that dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny’.”

"And he never did anything wrong?"

He smiled. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“I meant it when I said it earlier.”

Mara took a deep breath, “I don’t think I’m in any state to train to become a Jedi.”

He looked at her for a moment.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Sure, it’s not like we can fly anywhere.”

#epic!bio #mara jade #luke x mara #conversations that should have happened #extra snippets

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nsfwordwitch · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023 Day 21

Prompt: Lingerie Pairing: Astarion x nonbinary tiefling Tav 1688 Words

🔞Adults Only Blog🔞

“You like gifts, don't you, Astarion?”

“Oo, what have you gotten me this time?”

Weft hands him a long, flat, paper box, and he opens it eagerly. Inside, nestled in paper, are three articles of clothing, though, he thinks, one would hardly count as “dressed” if wearing them. A gauzy robe with velvet floral designs, a narrow corset in black and silver, and a spit of fabric he assumes is underwear, though it’s difficult to be sure.

“Oh, darling,” he says, “they’re gorgeous. How do you always know just the thing?”

Weft beams at him. “Are you going to try them on or what?”

“Trying them on, then or what.” He waggles his eyebrows at them as he hops to the next room, and they laugh.

The whole get-up fits him perfectly–of course. Weft knows his measurements as well as their own at this point. He looks down at himself, idly regretting his lack of reflection. He must look damn good. The panties have no seat at all, just three straps to hold the front in place, and the robe has a long slit up the back that ends above his tailbone. “How saucy,” he purrs to himself.

He returns to the boudoir, striking a pose against the doorway. “Well! It seems I’m not the only one who got a new outfit.”

Weft is also striking a pose, demurely holding their own ephemeral robe closed, entirely failing to conceal themself beneath it. “I wanted us to feel pretty all of a sudden, so I ordered these. That was four months ago, of course, but fortunately I”m still in a pretty mood. Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I feel like I’m floating.” He twirls over to them, enjoying the rise and fall of the delicate garment. “Like I’m the prettiest harlot at the orgy. And you! Why you're easily the second prettiest.”

Weft laughs. “I’m glad. And you’re having the effect on me I was hoping for.”

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear.” He slides a finger up the edge of his robe in the front, drawing it off his shoulder and just barely letting one nipple show. “Is this what you like, my sweet?”

Weft bites their lip, and reaches out to trace a line up his ear to its point and back to his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “You do look ravishing,” they murmur.

He opens his eyes and looks up at them through his eyelashes. “Then ravish me, darling.” Some emotion crosses Weft’s face and it gives him pause. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I...sorry, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking how…” they sigh, color rising in their cheeks. “How there was a time when this wouldn’t have been alright, when you didn’t want me to...look at you...the way I’m looking at you now.” He can tell there’s a hesitancy they still feel, a holdover from that time, now years past. He places his hand over theirs on his face. “Sorry. I’m just happy to see how far you've come.”

“Credit where it’s due, my darling. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

They smile. “Good for us.”

“Good for us! Now how about that ravishing?” He turns to show them the back of his underwear. “I assume that was what you had in mind when you bought me panties without an ass.”

“When I what? Oh no.” Weft is looking at him with a hand hiding their smile. “I’m so sorry, love, I think there's been a mixup.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t mean for me to have my whole backside hanging out?” He raises an eyebrow at them and smirks. “For easy access?”

“No, it’s for a tail!” They turn to show him theirs, and sure enough, the straps that he had found a little mysterious fit perfectly over their tail. “They must have taken my order wrong. Oh, your robe too! I’m sorry, darling, I’ll send them back and get you the right ones.”

“Excuse me! We will not be sending back a thing.... You are welcome to purchase me an additional set, however.” He reaches into their robe through the tail slit and pinches their ass cheek. They let out a yelp and slap at his hand, laughing. “Here I was, thinking you had an incredible sexy idea, and it was just a great sexy idea with an incredible accident.”

“You have a point.” Weft wraps their arms around his corseted waist and pulls their bodies together. Their cocks collide, nestled as they are in luxurious silk. He lets out a soft sound, and grinds his hips into theirs.

“Besides, darling,” he says, “I hope to leave these in a state that means they’re beyond sending back to the store.”

Weft kisses him. They draw their hands down his torso and cup his ass cheeks, extra perky as they are. He snakes his arms around their neck and jumps up. They catch him, like he knew they would, and carry him to their bed.

Astarion falls on his back on the bedspread and they climb on top of him. He traces a hand around one of their breasts hanging over him, drinking in his partner’s beauty. They slide his robe off his shoulder and kiss the spot left bare, trailing down to his nipple. He hums at the flick of their tongue and bucks his hips up into them. He strains to reach behind them and unbuckle their underwear. They make a noise against his chest as he leverages his feet to scoot the panties off of them.

“Ready to go?” they ask, rubbing their erection against him.

“Gods, just flip me over already! Ah!” Weft does as he suggests and he finds himself facedown. They plant more soft kisses on his neck as they summon a bottle of oil to their hand. He shivers when their slick fingers enter him. They lay their cheek on his back while they finger him, their skin separated from his old scars by the thin layer of gauze. He still can’t feel, in the lines where he was once mutilated, but the treatments he’s been using have softened the skin, and the uncut places can feel Weft’s touch more easily.

Weft sighs against him. “I could finger you forever, you know.”

“Mn, darling,” he says, head swimming with pleasure, “I would hardly complain if you did.”

“I don’t have to worry about finishing too soon, and I can go anywhere on your body.” He feels them shifting, moving down, and the absence of their warmth strikes him. He rises to his elbows so he can turn and see them where they’ve settled, between his legs.

They draw their tongue across one of his cheeks, making him shiver, and the hand that isn’t inside him gently rolls his balls through the silk that cups them. He moans and drops his head, still keeping one eye on them over his arm. They’re looking at him with something like wonder in their eyes, then flash him an embarrassed smile. “You look so good, my love.”

His chest tightens, and he smiles at them. “Is that my best angle?” They laugh, and press a kiss between his cheeks, above their fingers. They press harder on his balls, making him gasp in pleasure. “Oh, Weft,” he moans, “don’t stop, darling.”

“Mhmn.” They keep him suspended like that, moaning, toes curling, chest aching for them. Then he speaks, with a hint of a whine.

“Weft. You could finger me forever. But…” He pauses. “I do love to be–ah–filled by you.”

They hiss the word “Fuck.” He manages a throaty laugh. “You always know just what to say.”

“Please my love,” he says softly, “let me take you to the hilt. Ah–” Their hands slip away from him and then their body is hovering over him again. He watches them apply oil to their cock, twitching in anticipation, before they guide it inside him. “Gods,” he blurts out, “my darling, yes.”

They fall around him, their thighs touching his thighs, their breasts dropping against his back, their hands, one gripping his hip and the other by his elbow on the bed. Weft pants into his hair and a wave of pleasure radiates down his body from the feel of their warm breath on his scalp. “Fuck,” they hiss again, “my beloved beloved.”

“Yes,” he breathes, “you’re perfect. Weft, please. Ah–” They press in and out of him, making small high cries into his hair with each plunge in. “Yes, that’s it, please–” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. What more could they possibly give? Weft is inside him, filling him, their body surrounding him, swallowing him up. He is whole, complete, with them inside him. Astarion digs his face into the bed.

Weft’s cock hits the spot deep inside him that makes him see stars and he gasps. “That’s it,” he cries desperately, “that’s it, you’re right there don’t stop!” He moans, his voice getting louder and higher, until he comes, filling the silk surrounding his cock.

“Oh my love, oh beloved.” Weft wraps their arm tight across his stomach and slams into him four more times, then finishes, with their face against his neck. He reaches an arm up past his head and grasps at them, getting a fistful of their robe. They cling to his corseted torso, holding him close. “Astarion. My love.”

“Weft, my sweet.” He turns beneath them and they pull out of him as he rolls. His hands find their face, his thumbs caressing their cheekbones. “My beauty.” He pulls their face down for a kiss and they lay their body on him, their weight pressing him to the bed. He’s indescribably happy.

Weft breaks the kiss and lifts their hips off of his. “You were right, my love.”

“Mm?”

They reach between their bodies and draw a finger under the top edge of his underwear, damp from his spending. “These are not going back to the store.”

He barks a laugh. “You couldn't pry them from me, anyway.”

#r-18 #baldur's gate 3 #kinktober 2023 #oc weft #astarion #astarion baldur's gate 3

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mage-core · 1 month ago

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Book Review: Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan

An Overview

⭐ 4 / 5

Content: Chinese Mythology, Historical, Romance, Fantasy

Vibes: Emotive, whimsical, scenes painted beautifully, strong female character, some dark undertones, K-Drama energy in a book, improvement of some common tropes

My husband Matt had gone to Barnes & Noble for an afternoon while I was working, and asked if I’d like him to pick up anything for me! I didn’t have anything particular in mind, but I knew I’d be wanting something new to read, so I asked him to choose what he thought I’d like. He told me he spent a lot of time reading reviews on The Storygraph and researching based on the covers he saw, and this was the book he’d selected for me: Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan.

I had never heard of Sue Lynn Tan before, nor seen anyone talking about this book, but the cover was immediately captivating! Tan’s duology takes place in the Chinese depiction of heaven, where Immortals dwell separated from the Mortal realm. I don’t personally know much of anything about Chinese mythology, so I was really excited to get such a beautiful, intricately woven image of this world through the authors illustrative descriptions. It strongly reminded me of those historical K-Dramas that have slow-motion scenes of petals falling and robes swaying in the wind. By chapter 4 I was like, I need a comic version of this story. I need to see this world in full color! Imagining an entire series illustrated like the cover art sounds amazing to me.

Xingyin is the daughter of Chang’e, the Goddess of the Moon. Her mother raises her alone on the moon, and once Xingyin is older, she realizes that she has access to magic like other Immortals do. But this brings the keen and malicious eyes of The Celestial Empress, and her life is completely upended. Tossed through a storm (literally and figuratively) into the Celestial Kingdom, she has to hide herself in plain sight while she dreams of returning to her mother’s side. It starts off a bit cliche in that she’s chased away from the safety of her home and into enemy territory, but I do feel that our heroine’s drive and personality make her so much more than the typical “deposed princess” trope, and I do feel that the unique world building does elevate some of the other tropes used as well.

The first two parts of the book, in my opinion, moved with a pace that was appropriate for the characters. They are Immortal, so it makes sense that the way they view time is different. Some months just pass right by in the story, much like how real life is, and it removes the pressure of the story to invent interesting things to happen every week and then feel forced. As someone who gets really, really frustrated by the “Advances Quicker Than Everyone Else” trope, I felt their skill progression was really well executed. Our main characters do not progress solely because they are main characters, they’re actually working tirelessly every day for years to get to where they are, and they are trained by professionals with hundreds of years of experience (literally). Yes, their ability to access magic also helps them, but they struggle to learn that effectively as well.

In the last 3rd of the book, I did feel that things became a bit rushed and a LOT was happening very quickly to tie things up before the last page. Some of which felt like it was won a bit too easily. Personally, I’d rather the book had been lengthened to accommodate a better pace and some final challenges but I’m sure that’s much easier said than done when it comes to the demands of traditional publishing.

The romantic plot in this book advances in a similarly slow, realistic pace that isn’t overdramatized. There are many trials that Xingyin crosses in this story that are dark and forlorn, but what could easily turn into some gruesome topics are handled with a lot of grace by the author. I don’t want to spoil too much about Xingyin, but she is a fierce and sincere character who fights for herself while still showing compassion to others, even Mortals who some would see as “beneath” her. She wants to be her own champion, and live up to her own ideals. I think she’s a really beautiful character to follow in the narrative.

I’ll be picking up book two soon, and I’m looking forward to seeing where they take the story from here!

#book review #bookshelf #daughter of the moon goddess #sue lynn tan #bookshelf 2024 #fantasy books #lit #literature #chinese mythology #cross posted

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shamsshamousa · 3 months ago

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Figured that writing down my thoughts here is better than posting it on TikTok.

I recently expressed my frustration when trying to do research surrounding Islamic Egypt, specifically about Egyptians. This is a branch in the overall frustration that I’ve faced. Despite it all there’s a sense of catharsis when i struck gold with the visuals/clothes but they’re shallow and lack context.

Anyway

I’ll walk through my thought process about this character I’ve designed

1) STARTING POINT

Just for some context, her inspiration is a bit of a mess as I kept changing her from being Khaleeji coded to Egyptian coded as I was trying to figure out what kind of character I wanted her to be. The only consistent thing is her family gatekeeping powerful artefacts that a falling apart with some characters that’s a larger aspect of her character arc. There was this one song I kept playing on repeat because it just fit her so much and it felt so good imaging beats of her story arc to it lol.

A bit of a fun fact: i’ve been reconsidering whether she’s a necessary character anyways, even though she has close relationships with the characters, I feel myself falling into some traps and I’ve started questioning her character’s purpose but that’s probably because of the media I’m currently exposed to, hate to admit it but I’m so easily influenced like that.

Ok back to it

Design wise she’s a bit of a mess not very happy with it but it ties back to me struggling to find references. In all fairness me going back and forth between Arab/Egyptian and sometimes Ottoman(Turkish) didn’t really help.

I’m not entirely sure when the design on the left came to be and looking at procreate canvas info isn’t very useful but the starting point was the girl in the middle who resembles another character who I was happy with (at the time), I wasn’t very fond of her design because I felt like she looked a bit too girly and young, this is very much a reoccurring Skill Issue for me, but the main pain point was how … generic she looks and a bit modern. The other is that she felt very disconnected from other characters who I designed at the time such as this character (Shayma’) below who is quite integral to her story but is also her childhood friend. I felt like it was imperative that they felt like they belonged in the same kingdom and social class.

Shamya’s has a lot more thought put into her and I used many references, at the time she had the design that I was most satisfied with but now I feel like I need to rework it a bit because I dont’ want her to feel like a 1:1 copy of the pictures I used. Something I’m struggling with.

So I went back to the drawing board and with some research and hoarding pics on Pinterest ended up with the reference on the left. IIRC I wanted her to be more..Arab I was unsure about how i wanted this fictional world (or at least kingdom) to come off as; I believe the main inspiration was from non-description Arab/Islamic soldier illustrations. I wanted to hint at her potential fighter side and many of them often have a cape as is often the case in many historical Arab fighter depictions.

The colours are very random idk why I picked those.

With respect to her robe, I wanted my characters to feel like they were related, at the time it was imperative that the MC felt like she belonged to the same kingdom as the rest.

The sleeves being inspired by an illustration on Fatimid plate (x)but mostly Mameluke illustration

Again I’m honestly not sure which one came first but the MC’s design is more inspired by Mameluke manuscripts and other historical Egyptian-Islamic garnements. I’d like to think that the queen’s design followed up from the MC’s but there’s also a real possibility that I just saw a few pictures and went “good enough” irrespective of the MC. Her sleeve details dont’ strike me as very khaleeji anyway.

Just a small disclaimer, most of my uh “research” led to me looking up pictures on Pinterest it’s very useful because the webite bundles up similar looking pics together. Once you find reference you found all them essentially it was a very powerful and useful website for me but, unfortunately people have a habit of not citing so it pains me to carry that habit here. But most of the illustrations are from a Mameluke manuscript.

I don’t want a 1:1 recreation of what used to be, I want to create a world that feels distinct and has a strong identity. Maybe this is me being a bit arrogant but I feel like because the time period inspiration is rarely ever used…might make it easy compared to drawing from English or Japanese culture/history.

I feel like it has to be said, my characters while yes are drawn from Egyptian history are not…Egyptian or Muslims (or Christians) they live in a fictional fantasy world and have fictional fantasy culture and their fictional kingdom draws on Egyptian history and culture(s)

I don’t want to go into depth about how both characters relate to each other but the main idea is that they both occupy the same “country” so to speak, maybe this is a concept I should rethink in and of itself.

Back to the Princess/Queen

I know I just went on about Mamlukes and Egypt but ironically she was supposed to be a bit more Arab, to me she embodies this “Rich Arab Princess” vibe just mainly thought the hair and face shape, it’s very much the ideal (rich) Khaliji Arab Woman (online).

There’s a very high likelihood of me misremembering so much, I’m not sure which one came first but I think I may have mixed both the idea of Mameluke/vague Arab fighters together.

Clearly I wasn’t satisfied because I went on to make more designs

Ok so let me see if I remember this one…

After running errands in a district in Cairo that still has some farms standing at the cusp of advancing urbanisation, I decided to try my hand with a design that drew on some of the outfits I saw on display. My main issue was that she doesn’t look like royalty at all and even after giving some jewelry she still looks like a falaha/fala7a and a bit too homely for me. If the design was for a “village princess” or “bint el 3omda” it would work but for a Princess/Queen that resides in her kingdom’s center of power maybe not.

At least I think for the average Egyptian there’s nothing that hints at “royalty” so this design didn’t really last much.

Just some more line art details, I was trying to play around with her embroidery details but it didn’t give the vibe I wanted.

Kind of abandoned her for a bit and imagined her a bit closer to the left design on the left looking very much Arab but at this point the Kingdom’s inspiration was moving more towards Egyptian based and I was becoming more open to using Ancient Egypt for her, feels inevitable really.

Tried going back to making a comic, just one page I was messing around and this was the design I used for her.

Was she in court? In her palace? meeting her friends in secret because she’s about to send them on a dangerous mission? Who knows

A few days ago I went back to the drawing board with her and while I have mixed feelings about her face I think I managed to capture the overall feel. I’ve also integrated a lot more Ancient Egypt to her for a while I was using elements of Isis in the vein of how Cleopatra channelled Isis imagery to solidify her rule as a Pharaoh and the idea that Pharaohs believed themselves to represent the Gods. I’ve been playing around with that concept for a bit but I’m a bit hesitant with it. How would a child feel knowing that she embodies the will and power of a deity? How can she be sure of it? While questioning her own rule.

I think I’m getting closer to a version of a character I’m satisfied with and I’ve been having fun outlining her arc but I continue to struggle writing her interpersonal relationships mainly with her brother, friends, and potentially lover. It all feels so amateurish but I think her brother is the least throughout. I don’t even have a picture of him.

Anyway the other inspiration is Egypt and after coming across this picture it just felt right, the main inspiration is from the lady on the left despite it looking a bit more like a costume but I really have no way for knowing because the picture is from Pinterest and people rarely give much context. Doesn’t help that they’re from Egyptian nationalist accounts who just care about visuals.

The more I look at it the more sure I am that it’s a costume for a film and I feel so stupid. Her robe/galabeya is too shiny and the way her belt is tied feels intentional in provoking Ancient Egypt but idk maybe I’m just looking too much into it.

I also mixed it with another reference picture I found, thankfully I’ve been able to amass more references but again they’re shallow and devoid of context.

Anyway her is her current design.

You can see similarities with the photograph from the left mainly the vest and belt but now that I’m looking at it I the cuffs share similarities although I didn’t focus on that.

Dramatically changed her hair style. She currently has curly hair and I gave her a staff that’s usually on mummies lol and gave her yellow eyes because she’s so oh special.

Yellow eyes and a brown character? How daring

I feel like her skin a tad darker than I want it, she spends too much time in doors before everything goes to shit (for her) so early on I don’t think she should be this tan.

I’d like to think that her most recent iteration blends elements of Ancient Egypt and Islamic Egypt.

The design on the right is meant to be very ceremonial, she might be at a meeting getting bored to sleep or listening to some elites quarrel about their problems. One day she’ll be looking back at those boring meetings wishing they lasted a little longer.

Anyway

I wanted to share or document my thought process somewhere

#Egypt #character design #my art #i should really try and come up with a unique tag name for this series/world #ancient egypt #character lore

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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 2 years ago

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4/21/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

2 Samuel 1-4

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm China. Today is the 21st day of April. Welcome. So great to be here with you today. Today we are continuing in our story. We are not in the Psalms. We are going to be in Second Samuel, starting off in second Samuel, and we're going to be in chapters one through four, continuing with the New International version for this week.

Commentary:

Today's story is basically a if you kill him, you're going to get killed. You kill him, you're going to get killed. And it's this constant, terrible story of so many men dying. But if we go all the way back, what's so, so interesting to me, it seems like all this chaos started when a man came down and is talking to David and is trying to I don't know if his intentions are trying to impress him or to please him or I have no idea. But it ends up completely biting him in the butt because he's like, yeah, I killed Saul. And then David's like, we clearly know he didn't. Like, we read the story that Saul's wounded and he falls on his own sword. And then the people that were even around him then fell on their swords and then his body was carried. Like, we, we know this story, so we clearly know this guy is not telling the truth. He's lying, making himself to seem like a big deal. For what reason, I'm not entirely sure. But then I don't know if he thought he was going to get robed and appointed or something, as if David hadn't already committed in his heart he wasn't going to kill him. The Lord was going to deal with him. And so David says, listen, let the Lord deal with you ever so severely because you killed the Lord's anointed and he didn't kill him because of what he said. He dies. And so then there's lamenting and there's mourning, right? And then David is anointed king. All this time that David has been kind of like, I guess for lack of a better term, like he's, he's told he's going to be promoted and now this is the time that he's promoted. This is a lot of life that happens, but he's now King David, and there's a lot of blood that is being had, but he is making it clear as day, look, none of this is on my hands. None of this was my doing, but maybe this is your first time reading the Bible or reading it chronologically and you're like, what? All this stuff is in the Bible. What is going on? I thought everything was supposed to be happy and kumbaya and I'm supposed to leave feeling uplifted and encouraged. And I'm just like, listen, that's not always life. Not every day do we feel uplifted and encouraged and blessed and highly favored. I had a day the other day that I was just like, oh, my lands, what is happening, what is going on. It feels like everything that is going wrong, everything that could go wrong is going wrong and I'm going to pull out all my hair strand by strand like that is truly how it feels. And so reading stories like this, do I find that I resonate in any of the story? No, not even a lick of it. But what I can one I think it's important to know God's word in the story and who these people are and then continuing down the lineage and where we will get to. But then also to understand that God isn't interested in using perfect people. At least I don't think that's my best guess is I don't think he's interested in using perfect people. If he wanted perfect people he would have done another mass destruction and started over again. But I don't think he's not in my lifetime has he done one. And I think if anything it gives me hope that we don't have to be perfect, we don't have to have it all together. We just have to understand that we have to repent and to turn away and to turn to the Lord and to love Him and serve Him earnestly. And so that's what I have for you today.

Prayer:

Lord, I thank you for your word. I thank you that you are sovereign and that you are king and that you are Lord of all. And God, I just pray that your heart and what you want to say to your people would be revealed. And Lord I thank you that maybe there are some parts of the crazy stories that we can relate to or that speak to us and if nothing else it just makes us feel less alone in our messy crazy stories. God, I thank you that we see people who truly wanted to follow your heart and that you spoke back to their hearts and I thank you that that gives us hope. It's new name. We pray. Amen.

Announcements:

If you have prayer requests and things that we as a community can praying for you then you can call in 800-583-2164 and if you listen through the app you can send in your prayer request through there as well. And these get sent in and played at the end of every day's podcast. And it is truly just such a beautiful aspect of the community and of the body of Christ and just being able to pray over every prayer request that gets called in and understand that there's people, too, who are praying over you that just don't love to call in. But I know that there are people who that is their thing and they call in and they pray and that there's connections that are made. And so if that's something that you want to have happen in your life, please by all means use the fairy line because that's what it is for. That is all for today. I'm China, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.If you have prayer requests and things that we as a community can praying for you then you can call in 800-583-2164 and if you listen through the app you can send in your prayer request through there as well. And these get sent in and played at the end of every day's podcast. And it is truly just such a beautiful aspect of the community and of the body of Christ and just being able to pray over every prayer request that gets called in and understand that there's people, too, who are praying over you that just don't love to call in. But I know that there are people who that is their thing and they call in and they pray and that there's connections that are made. And so if that's something that you want to have happen in your life, please by all means use the fairy line because that's what it is for. That is all for today. I'm China, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line:

Hi, this is Praying in the Desert, and I just like to say thank you to China for how she went through every day of the week before Easter and explained in detail each day where Jesus was and what was happening. I really found that interesting, and I've been listening for five years, and in the five years I've been listening between Dab and DABC and DABC kids or Dab kids, I've not heard that before for the week before Easter. So I was very thankful that China took the time to do that. And I think a lot of other people probably really enjoyed that. And I hope that becomes something that happens every year. And to give verses, I wish I'd written the verses down and actually gone and listened to or read them all, but just hearing what happened every day was good for me. And next year I think I'll read everything. If China does it again, I was just busy this time. So. Thank you, China. Thank you so much. That was really good. I hope everybody had a really nice Easter. And we praise the Lord that his son was here and he was risen. I wish you all a very good week ahead. Bye.

Hello, DABC family. This is Diana from Florida, and I want to pray for expecting and hope whom was speaking a lot of truth regarding her marriage. That really resonated with me, as I myself am also having struggles in my own marriage. And simultaneously, I want to pray for all of the marriages in the community that are struggling with similar issues or just differing issues that are causing a lot of strife in the marriage. Dear God, I lift up expecting and hope. Father God, I thank you for her honesty and her vulnerability. I thank you that she was able to articulate so plainly how oftentimes as spouses we become resentful because we do not want to break the silence or we do not want to be the one to make the first move in conversation. And oftentimes we become resentful of that because we feel like we're always the ones making the first move and we don't see the reciprocation from our spouse. And that makes us upset because we feel like we're carrying this load and burden of our marriage all on our own. I pray, O Lord God, in the name of Jesus, the prayer that she prayed, where she said, lord, help me to really see the beauty and the breaking. Father, I pray that you would show me as well what the beauty and the breaking is, the humility that is necessary for our marriages to be restored. Lord God, we submit our lives before you. I pray for all the marriages in general that they would also see the beauty and the breaking and come to a place of humility where they would really not only ask for forgiveness but do the work to get the marriage back to the place where it's supposed to be. In Christ Jesus. I pray, O Lord God, that both spouses, not just one or the other, but both, would be willing and committed to be closer to you and close to each other. In Jesus name, amen. Love you all. God bless you.

This is Tilly from Florida calling on the 18th in response to the girl who at the end something about she was a motorcycle rider and getting a divorce. Thank you for your call, your openness, and it's a very good thing that you recognize the painful all and even the evil side of a divorce and how it causes heartache and death. You inspired me to pursue the Lord because he has told me quite a while ago that I should write a book or that I will be writing a book and maybe multiple books on that topic and others purely based upon the experiences that I've had with the divorce. So you stirred my heart to get before the Lord on this topic and seek his face and humility to get direction from Him on how I should respond with me and my wife because we both are feeling the same thing. So, Father God, lift up this girl, you, and ask that you'd bless her heart and bless her path forward. Give her wisdom to navigate the waters and the path ahead for her as you do all of this. To give her a heart of forgiveness so that she's not bound by any sin in relation to what her husband has done. In Jesus name, amen.

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messers-moony · 3 years ago

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I’m Losing You | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Twin Potter!Reader

Summary: Lily changes James for the worst.

Word Count: 5.4K

Inspiration: Click

James Potter was a bundle of joy to be around. He was the epitome of a Gryffindor. James Potter with messy brown hair that could appear to have caramel highlights in the summer. With his determined hazel eyes and tanned complexion that never seemed to go away even during the coldest winter months. He was muscular due to Quidditch, and he was tall, roughly six feet.

But his personality is what made him beautiful. He was kind, caring, and sweet. James took care of everyone around him. He gave Moony chocolate after full moons. He made Sirius hot chocolate after nasty letters from his parents. He provided Peter with tons of his mum's cooking after commenting that he loved Mrs. Potter's cooking.

He was also a trouble maker, a mischief-maker, and a talented teen. James could make prank material out of parchment and a quill. In short, James Potter was brilliant, but he was also determined. When James spotted something he wanted, he never gave up. Lily Evans was one of these things. When he laid eyes on her in his first year, he knew he wanted her. No matter how many times he had to get hexed, told off, or rejected. James refused to give up.

James and the other Marauders - Sirius, Peter, and Remus - played multiple pranks during their time at Hogwarts. They turned corridors into different biomes, made quills spray water, turning robes different colors, planting dungbombs all over the castle, and so much more. It was their idea of fun. Sirius even turned the central clock back an hour to get extra sleep - he got a month's worth of detention after that.

But James was so determined to get Lily that he changed himself entirely. To the point where his best friend and sister were noticing.

The summer before their seventh year, James got the Head Boy badge. Sirius and Y/n had been extremely happy for him. Little did they know how much that badge would ruin him. It wasn’t a surprise that Lily Evans got the Head Girl badge. It started after getting on the Hogwarts Express. James had gone to the front of the train with the Prefects and Lily Evans leaving the other four to the Marauders cart.

Continuing with their seventh year, James was around a lot less and stopping contributing to pranks. Sirius was flopped down on his bed, stomach against the plush mattress, while Remus and Y/n were studying on Remus’ bed. Peter had gone out with his girlfriend - a Ravenclaw nobody really cares about - and James was reading a Quidditch magazine on his bed.

“We need a prank idea.” Sirius announced, Y/n and Remus perked up, but James scoffed, “Isn’t that a bit childish?”

The three Marauders' faces scrunched up, “Pardon?”

“I mean,” James placed his Quidditch magazine on his thighs, “We’re seventh years now. Aren’t we supposed to be role models?”

“Who cares.” Sirius replied, “Besides, people already look up to us for being the pranksters. I like that reputation much better.”

“I’m Head Boy, Sirius.”

“And?” Sirius questioned, confused, “You’re supposed to use that to your advantage, you know, it gives us more freedoms for pranks, like Moony and Tails, does with their Prefect badges.��

James scoffed, “You guys do whatever you want. I’m not getting involved.”

“What’s wrong?” Y/n spoke up, and James looked confused, “Nothing.”

“You always wanna do pranks.” Remus pointed out.

James shrugged, “I’m over it now.”

Sirius, Y/n, and Remus gave each other looks. They ended up discussing a plan in the Prefects bathroom the next day with Peter. The goal was to turn the Charms corridor into a snowy tundra. Which, after a week of studying, they were able to complete. Remus got to perform the Charm while Y/n made sure no other Prefects were coming around.

The next morning snow was falling in that hallway, along with piles of soft snow was on the floor. People rushing to Professor Flitwick's class in the morning were sliding and tripping all over the place. Y/n and Sirius snickered from inside the class. It wasn’t until James Potter and Lily Evans came running around the corner for Charms did they both wipe out on the icy ground.

Lily’s books slid all around, and James’ glasses flew off his face. Both Marauders in the class grimaced. After five minutes of struggling, both James and Lily made it into the class. Sirius saw Lily whisper in James’ ear, and his expression turned dark. James walked toward them and looked severely disappointed in his best friend and his sister.

“You guys need to stop.”

“Why?” Sirius retorted, “Because your precious Evans got hurt?”

“Yes, you git.” James growled, “It’s not funny to watch people get hurt.”

Y/n crossed her arms, “You know what’s not funny?”

James turned to her, “To watch your brother turn into a prat.”

“Oh, forgive me for wanting a significant other and wanting to be responsible.” James said sarcastically, “Unlike you, who’s immature.”

Sirius raised their interlocked hands, “Pardon?”

“Of course.” James seethed, “You would date my best friend. What a low blow.”

Sirius stood up defensively, “Back off.”

“Both of you quit it.” Both boys continued to glare at each other, “James, go to your precious Evans and back the fuck off. Sirius, sit.”

James left the table with a glare at his two friends, and Sirius took his seat beside Y/n, “Sorry. I just couldn’t let him get away with that.”

“It’s fine,” Y/n replied, leaning on his shoulder.

Y/n’s mood dampened after that. She had never seen James so pissed off before at a harmless prank. It wasn’t even bad compared to the other stuff that they had done. Only one person had gone to the hospital wing for a broken ankle, but Madame Pomfrey fixed them up in less than five minutes.

It only got worse from that point. James got even worse as time went on. It was the Christmas Holidays, and James had gone to Lily’s home for them. Sirius and Y/n went to the Potter residence. Euphemia and Fleamont frowned upon not seeing James with them but were happy to have two children in the house.

On Christmas Eve, they were sitting at the dining table eating the multitude of foods that Euphemia cooked when Fleamont got curious, “Where’s James?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Where do you think?”

“That Evans girls house?” Euphemia asked, and Y/n nodded, making Euphemia frown the slightest bit, “I wish he would’ve told us.”

Sirius shook his head, “He’s been a prat lately.”

Both parents looked confused, “Ever since he got that Prefect badge, he almost wants nothing to do with any of us, Remus and Peter included.”

“He gets on us about doing pranks and stuff.” Sirius added, “He sleeps in the dorm but is gone in the morning. The only other time we see him is after the full moons for Remus.”

“I didn’t raise him like that.” Euphemia muttered, “Mum, you can’t blame yourself.” Y/n held her hand.

“That girl is changing him.” Fleamont almost seethed, “If he was smart, then he should know that he shouldn’t have to change for her.”

It was quiet for a moment, “Y/n?”

“Yes, dad?”

“You love Sirius the way he is, right?” Fleamont questioned, “You wouldn’t change him?”

“Never.” Y/n said hastily, “I wouldn’t date him if I wanted him to change.”

Euphemia smiled, “At least you two are happy. I don’t want James to change for this girl.”

“We don’t either.” Sirius added, “He’s- It’s like I’m losing him.”

Y/n held his hand beneath the table, “I- I don’t wanna lose him. I can’t- I can’t lose another brother.”

“Sirius.” Euphemia’s voice was so gentle, “You won’t lose, James. Not like you lost Regulus. One day, it’ll click, and James will realize that he isn’t happy.”

Sirius was trying to swallow back the tears, “What if he doesn’t?”

“If I know James, he’ll come around.” Fleamont assured, “But if he thinks that we’ll approve of what that girl is doing to him, he’s wrong.”

Euphemia nodded, “Monty wasn’t the best student at Hogwarts when I met him. He was kinda like you guys, always causing trouble and always experimenting, but I wouldn’t change him for the world.”

“Euphemia was a goody-two-shoes.” Fleamont mumbled, “But she was my goody to shoes. She kept me out of trouble but still let me do the things I enjoy, like playing with Potion mixtures.”

“And one day,” Euphemia sighed, “James will realize that this girl isn’t worth him changing. That he’ll realize how unhappy he truly is.”

Sirius sighed, “I hope that’s soon.”

Euphemia let go of Y/n’s hand and took Sirius’ in hers, “Don’t we all.”

The Christmas Holidays went by fast, and soon enough, they were all getting back on the Hogwarts Express again. Remus and Peter opted to stay at Hogwarts. Lily and James sat in the front again together. Sirius and Y/n sat together on the same side. Her head was leaning on his shoulder, and Sirius’ arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close to him.

An hour into the ride, someone came knocking on the door. It jumped Y/n out of her sleep. Sirius allowed them to come in. It was James Potter who was now sitting in front of them. Y/n’s harsh glare was unmistakable.

“What’re you gonna lecture us about now?”

James didn’t say anything, so Y/n continued, “Mum wasn’t happy that you didn’t tell her about going to Evan's house for the hols.”

“She’ll get over it.” James muttered, and Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, “You’re a tosser. You know how upset mum was? You don’t even care, do you?”

“Listen, you can lecture me later. I need to ask you guys for a favor.” James stated, and Y/n put her back against the seat, crossing her arms.

“Lily won’t date me until you both change.”

Sirius looked appalled, “Excuse me?”

“She said that you’re both immature and irresponsible.” James continued, “She won’t date me until that’s fixed.”

“Well, I’m sorry, mate, but we aren’t changing.” Sirius said, “We are who we are. She doesn’t have to like it. I’m not changing for you to get a girl that doesn’t even like you for you.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t like me for me?”

Y/n scoffed, “Are you bloody blind? You aren’t like this, James. You’re fun and playful. You aren’t this strict, follow the rules, prat.”

“What happened to my troublemaker brother? What happened to the brother who always said, ‘I’ll never ask you to change’? Where did that James Potter go?” Y/n asked, “You’re losing yourself for her, and you don’t even realize it.”

“Or,” James started, “I’m just becoming myself.”

“No!” Sirius exclaimed, “This isn’t you!”

James barred his teeth, ready to reply, but Sirius beat him to it, “You’re becoming exactly like Regulus.”

“Excuse me?” James said dangerously low.

“You’re changing for someone else. You aren’t being you.” Sirius explained, “You’re changing for Lily like Reg is changing for my parents.”

“It’s disgusting.” Sirius seethed.

James huffed, “Will you do this for me, or not?”

“Absolutely not.” Y/n replied, “I’m not changing, and neither is Sirius. And if your precious Evans has a problem with that, tell her to talk to us instead.”

“Can’t you just please do this? For me?” James pleaded.

“No.” Sirius declared, “If Lily doesn’t like us for us, she doesn’t have to. Tell her to fuck off.”

James gave Sirius one last glare before leaving the compartment to go back to the front. The tension in Y/n’s shoulders deflated as she leaned back against Sirius, breathing in the smoke, leather, and sandalwood scent. Sirius leaned his head on top of hers, letting his soft hair graze some of her forehead.

“I wish he wasn’t like this.” Her voice sounded so hurt, and it broke Sirius’ heart to pieces, “I do too.”

Everything got worse from there. James didn’t even attend full moons anymore. He didn’t even sleep in the Marauders dorm. They didn’t know where he was sleeping - they assumed with Lily, but no one really knew. The war was only getting worse, and so was James. Soon enough, the remaining Marauders never even saw him for months until they graduated. Apparently, by that time, James and Lily had been dating for six months.

James had never bothered to tell them. Sirius and Y/n had decided to stay home for the summer months while they got a flat. James hadn’t even spoken to them since that night on the Hogwarts Express. Euphemia and Fleamont hugged both of them when they arrived at Kings Cross. James had planned to go to Lily’s, but Euphemia saw him and grabbed him by the ear.

He was dragged to Fleamont, Sirius, and Y/n forcefully until Euphemia let go of his ear; she crossed her arms, “What is wrong with you!?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fleamont smacked him upside the head, “You know exactly what we’re talking about.”

James furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re coming home with us, and we’re having a long talk.”

“That’s not fair!” James sounded like a five-year-old, “I told Lily I would go home with her for the holidays.”

“I don’t care what you told her.” Fleamont replied, “We need to talk.”

James scoffed and grabbed his trunk away from Lily. He kissed her on the cheek before apparating home with his family. They all put their trunks away before sitting in the living room together. Sirius and Y/n on the couch. James in an armchair. Fleamont and Euphemia on the other couch.

“Explain to us why you haven’t been coming home.”

“Because I wanted to spend time with my girlfriend?”

Euphemia sighed, “You didn’t even tell us.”

“If I did, then you would be upset!” James replied.

“You made me more upset by not coming at all.” Euphemia said, “You’re a grown man, James.”

“Exactly.” He retorted, “So this conversation shouldn’t even be happening.”

Fleamont narrowed his eyes, “And yet here we are, having this conversation because you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Fleamont retorted, “You’re changing yourself for a girl.”

“I am not!” James exclaimed, “Why do people keep telling me that!”

“Because it’s true.” Sirius interjected, “And it’s making you unhappy.”

James scoffed, “I am perfectly happy.”

Euphemia and Fleamont shared a look, “Fine. If you want to be with Lily, go on. But we don’t approve her, and she’ll never receive our blessing.”

“I really could care less.” James snapped.

He grabbed his trunk from the second story, and then a crack could be heard of him apparating away. Sirius and Y/n turned to the parents, “See? He’s been like this all year.”

“Bloody idiot.” Fleamont cursed.

Y/n chuckled, “Tell me about it.”

Fleamont sighed, “On the other hand, Sirius.”

“You have our blessing.” Euphemia finished, and Sirius turned bright pink, “We know that you love our daughter for who she is.”

Sirius flushed, “Thank you….”

Euphemia stood up and cupped his cheeks in her hands, “I’ll always love you.”

She kissed his forehead, and Sirius looked ready to cry. He had never felt this love from a family before, and he never wanted it to leave. Sirius had been planning on asking for Monty’s blessing and planned on showing him the ring he had gotten Y/n. It was gorgeous. It wasn’t silver, but it resembled silver. Y/n was always around Remus, and Sirius didn’t want Remus to get hurt by being around her.

The war got only got worse. The Marauders went on many patrols together but never repaired their relationship with James. Remus was on missions by himself to try and get the werewolves on their side but to no avail. Y/n had been there to patch him up every time. James always went straight to Lily. He never even acknowledged the others.

One night Y/n and Sirius were sent to the Malfoy Manor where she had gotten caught. Bellatrix hadn’t hesitated when Y/n was seen. Thankfully, Regulus was able to get them all out of the room. Giving Sirius a sly wink, he allowed Sirius to take Y/n and apparate away. James hadn’t even batted an eye toward his bloody sister being healed by Euphemia.

Sirius was there holding her hand when he heard arguing outside the room, “James, that is your sister!”

“And?”

Sirius could feel the rage coming from Euphemia, “You can’t say things like that! One day when she’s gone, or something happens, you’ll want to take it back!”

He stood up from beside Y/n and opened the door to stand beside Mrs. Potter, “She got what she deserved.” James retorted.

Sirius saw red. He pinned James up against the wall. Sirius was seething at this former Quidditch player as James looked vaguely scared, “Take. That. Back.”

“No.” James gritted his teeth, “She was being an idiot. She got what she deserved.”

Sirius pushed him up against the wall again, James’ head hitting the wallpaper hard, “You’re a dick, you know?”

“And you’re exactly like your family.” James retorted, and Sirius looked ready to kill, “You’re batshit just like your family. Such a shame that disowned you.”

“ENOUGH!” Euphemia screamed, and Sirius let James fall to the floor, “That was uncalled for, James!”

James looked offended, “Me?! What about him pushing me against the wall?”

“You deserved that.” Euphemia snapped, “And if I weren’t your mother, I would’ve done a lot worse.”

“Get your shit together, James, or get the fuck out.” Sirius had never heard Mrs. Potter curse like that, “Your sister came into this house almost dead. What happened to the boy I raised!? What happened to the boy who would beg to see his sister after she got a paper cut.”

“She stopped caring!” James yelled, “So I did too!”

Euphemia threw the bandages that were in her hand on the ground, “She never stopped caring! She just didn’t want you to be with someone who didn’t love you!”

“Lily loves me!” James growled, “Unlike everyone else.”

“I am your mother.” Euphemia said, “I will always love you even when you’re being a selfish prat.”

“Whatever.”

James walked off, and Euphemia felt like crying. She felt so hopeless that her son had turned out this way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. James wasn’t supposed to be a cold-hearted man because of a stupid girl. Sirius hugged Euphemia tight, and he could feel the water trickling from her eyes onto his shirt. He gently rubbed her back with his chin on top of her head.

“It’s not your fault.” Sirius assured, “It’s his. He’s being stupid.”

She continued to cry softly, “I just want my son back….”

A couple of weeks later, when Y/n and Sirius finally began settling into their flat in London, an owl came pecking on their window. Y/n placed the box in her hands down and opened the window to take the envelope from the brown owl.

“Sorry, hun, I don’t have any treats for you right now.” The owl pecked her arm before flying off.

Y/n stood at the kitchen island and began ripping open the package. Inside was a card, and she pulled it out of the white envelope. It was a picture of James and Lily at an altar, along with an ultrasound picture. Lily was pregnant. Not only that but James and Lily had gotten married without even telling them.

Sirius saw his girlfriend frozen and wrapped his arms around her waist, “What’s wrong?”

“Siri…” Y/n held up the pictures, and his mouth hit the floor, “He wouldn’t- No- he didn’t-“

She nodded, “He- He got married and- and didn’t even tell us.”

Sirius let go of her and began pacing in front of her, pulling at the strands of his hair, “He told me I’d be his best man… He promised me!”

“Siri…” Y/n repeated.

Tears collected in Sirius’ eyes. He couldn’t believe it. James was a prick, that much he knew, but this was taking it way too far. To get married without telling your supposed best friend and twin sister? That’s obscene. To announce that you’re having a baby by a stupid fucking card?! That was worse. Sirius wasn’t even mad that James hadn’t made him his best man. He was angry because Y/n deserved better than that.

It was just about a year later when Regulus had told Sirius about Peter being the spy. Therefore, Peter was in Azkaban for life, and Voldemort was gone. Sirius had proposed to Y/n only months after, on Christmas Day, in front of the Christmas tree. They were both sitting on the floor, opening each other’s presents.

“Okay, I have one more for you, my love.” Sirius kissed her cheek before standing up.

“Alright, I’m gonna make some hot chocolate.” Y/n smiled as she walked into the kitchen.

Sirius dug through the Christmas tree to grab the small black box. Carefully, he put it in his sweatpants pocket when she came back with two mugs of hot beverage. Y/n placed them on the coffee table, and Sirius grabbed her hands, holding them gently. He kissed her knuckles before getting down on one knee.

“I suck at speeches, and I’m not as poetic as Remus, but I’m about to try.” Y/n chuckled, “You’re the light of my life. You’re the moon to my stars. I love you to infinity, and I wouldn’t be here without you. My life sucked growing up, it was possibly the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, but then you showed up with your beautiful smile.”

Tears collected in Y/n’s eyes, “You lit up my entire world. You were the light at the end of my tunnel everyone kept telling me about. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I want you to be mine officially. I want to be the one you depend on, the one you can always talk to, the one you have children with. I’m asking you to spend the rest of eternity with me. So will you, Y/n Potter, marry me?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Y/n smiled, and Sirius slipped the ring on her finger.

He embraced her tightly, and she hugged back just as tight, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Months later, before the wedding, Sirius had called Remus over. To the present day, Sirius had never missed a full moon. Padfoot always joined Moony, and they would come home where Y/n could take care of their injuries if there were any at all. Remus lived in Diagon Alley above his bookshop, which he loved to pieces. It was the last gift his parents gave to him, and he cherished it.

Y/n was out at the Ministry at work while Sirius and Remus were talking in the kitchen. The kitchen was a blue color with oak wood. Most of the furniture was the same color or grey color. It gave off a very homey feeling that everyone who went inside loved. Regulus often visited to see his brother and sister in law who he enjoyed a lot.

“Remus, I have something to ask of you.” Sirius began, and Remus quirked an eyebrow, “I want you to be my best man.”

Remus almost spat out the tea in his mouth, “You’re joking, right?”

“No.” Sirius shook his head, “You deserve the position more than anyone. You’ve been there for me more than anyone other than Y/n, of course.”

Remus was still gaping at him, “We made sure that it was in between the fulls so that way you weren’t still hurt from the previous one or antsy because the next one coming is. We wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Sirius, are you sure?” Remus asked, “Wasn’t James suppose to be your best man?”

“I haven’t spoken to James since the Winter Holidays at our last year at Hogwarts.” Sirius answered, “Unless you count me screaming at him a couple of times during the war.”

Remus walked around the counter and hugged Sirius tightly, “I’ll gladly be your best man, pads.”

Sirius was shorter than Remus, but he still hugged back, “You’ve been there for me more than anyone.”

They pulled apart, “What about Regulus?”

“He’ll be one of my groomsmen. He told me he didn’t want to be my best man. Said he didn’t deserve it.” Sirius informed, “But he’ll get to speak, just like you and Marlene, who’s being Y/n’s maid of honor.”

“Thank you for putting it in between the moons.” Remus said gratefully, “I didn’t think you guys would even consider it.”

Sirius scoffed, “You’re our best friend, Moony! We’d never forget about it, and we want you there.”

“Y/n would kill me if we chose any other day.” Sirius added, “I’d rather not get killed by her before we’re even married.”

Remus chuckled, “She’s a bit scary.”

“Honestly!” Sirius agreed, smiling brightly, “She gets terrifying when she’s mad.”

Remus took a sip of his tea, “What do you do to get out of that?”

“Turn into Padfoot and lick her face.”

Both men laughed and continued to drink tea in the kitchen until Y/n came home. She kissed both of their cheeks before going into the bedroom. Y/n was dirty and gross after working at the Ministry. But Remus stayed for dinner, and they all had a game night in the living room along with some fire whiskey. It was nice to finally have no worries about the war or anything else going on.

Two months later, Y/n Potter had officially become Y/n Black. Euphemia and Fleamont were older but so happy to see their daughter get married after missing out on seeing their son. Sirius had danced with Y/n for most of the night but also danced with Euphemia and Remus. Fleamont and Remus took turns with Y/n as well. Regulus even got to dance with his new sister in law who even made him laugh.

It wasn’t until five years later when Y/n heard a knock on the door. She and Sirius had been watching a movie on the couch together, a Muggle movie that Sirius begged to watch. Y/n got off the couch and walked to the door. She looked through the peephole to see familiar brown messy curls. Hesitantly she opened the door to see a man her age and a little boy around six years old.

When the man looked up, she met familiar hazel eyes that were glossy with tears, “Hey, Y/n.” His voice was broken and soft.

“Hey, James. What’re you doing here?”

Sirius jumped off the couch after hearing the name. He put a protective arm around her waist, “Lily- she- um- Lily left.”

“What do you mean she left?” Y/n queried, and tears spilled from his cheeks, “She left. All that was on the table were divorce papers.”

“Daddy…” The little boy tugged at his sleeve, “Who are they?”

Sirius knelt to the little boy's level, “Hey there, kiddo.”

The boy hid behind James’ leg, “Harry, this is your Uncle Sirius and Aunt Y/n.”

Harry looked at Sirius with big green eyes, “It’s okay, buddy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Sirius smiled as Harry walked into Sirius’ arms for a hug. Y/n smiled down at them, and James looked empty at the sight, “Do you guys have any kids?”

Y/n shook her head, “No. We don’t really want any.”

“May- May we come in, please?”

She opened the door to allow him inside. James took a step into the hallway and the living room. He loved the way it looked. It was much different than his and Lily’s that they had lived in. The walls in the living room were a dark blueberry color with black furniture and oak flooring. Y/n led them to the kitchen, and Harry followed Sirius happily with them.

“Have you two ate?” Y/n inquired, and James shook his head.

Sirius opened the fridge, “Do you like yogurt, Harry?”

“It’s my favorite!” Harry exclaimed gleefully, and Sirius chuckled.

He took out one of the cups of yogurt, opening it, and handing it to the boy with a spoon, “It’s nothing much, but it’ll fill him till tomorrow morning.” Sirius explained.

“So, what exactly happened?”

James shrugged, “I came home from work to divorce papers on the table and a note telling me to leave the house with Harry.”

Y/n sighed, “So, you show up here. Why?”

“Because…” James muttered, “Because you and Sirius were right. So was mum and dad.”

“I- After the first couple months of being married, I realized how unhappy I was. I understood what you guys were telling me the entire time, but I was being stubborn, and I thought that Lily was the one for me when she wasn’t.” James confessed, “So in a way, I’m glad she broke it off but now, I have Harry, and I’m not sure what to do. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

Sirius and Y/n looked at each other. They looked at the little boy who was cheerfully eating the strawberry yogurt that had covered his face. His tousled brown hair and gleaming green eyes. His chubby little cheeks and toothy smile. Sirius turned to give Y/n puppy eyes. Sirius loved kids but never really wanted any of his own because of his grudge toward his family.

“James,” Y/n began, and James gave her a hopeful look, “I’ll let you stay here. But you aren’t forgiven. I’m doing this for your son, not for you. If you, alone, had shown up on my doorstep, I would’ve told you to screw off.”

He grimaced, “But your son deserves a good life. He deserves his family of which you deprived him of for the past six years of his life. Mum and dad never got to meet their grandson. They never got to see their son get married. How upset do you think they were?”

“I’ve never seen mum cry that much before. I sat beside mum in St Mungo's while she took her final breath, and barely a month later, I did the same for dad.” Y/n admitted, “They both asked me to make sure that you realized your stupid mistake. I have every card and gift they wanted to give to Harry in my house because every time they tried to send you the stuff, you sent it back. So they hoped eventually this would happen.”

“They wanted a picture of their grandson, and I couldn’t even give them that. Harry missed out on meeting his grandparents because of you, and you need to understand how much your decisions messed up your child’s life.” Y/n reiterated, “I’m doing this for my nephew, for Harry. Not for you.”

James nodded, “I- I understand.”

“Good.” Y/n said, “Sirius, you can show them where they can sleep, okay?”

Sirius nodded and kissed her forehead, “‘Course, love.”

Y/n went down in the basement, which had been conquered as her personal space. Sirius cleaned up Harry’s face and threw the yogurt mess away. They climbed up the steps, and Sirius led James to a room that they could share. Harry smiled and jumped onto the bed, cuddling into the bedding. Within minutes Harry was dead asleep.

“She was harsh.” James muttered, “She has every right to be.” Sirius retorted.

“You hurt her more times than I’d like the count. I mean, hell, at least Regulus came back to me. He came back and apologized. Not only that, but he explained his plan all along. He was on my side the entire time.” Sirius said, “You could’ve been dead, and we would’ve never known.”

James didn’t reply to that, “I saw your wedding pictures in the living room. Remus was your best man?”

“He was.�� Sirius smiled, “And a hell of a best man, if I’d say. His speech made Y/n sob.”

“What about Y/n’s maid of honor?”

“Marlene.” Sirius answered, “Her speech was more funny than it was sentimental, but that’s just who Marlene is.”

“When did you guys get married?”

Sirius smiled; his eyes could’ve had hearts inside them, “December 22nd.”

“I’m happy for you guys.” James murmured, “I really am.”

“Well, I’m glad, but honestly,” Sirius began to walk out of the door, “I don’t really care.”

3K notes · View notes

god1ngs · 2 years ago

Text

i shouldn't forgive you (but it's you)

foolish left you in the ruins of your home years ago. you've forgotten about it up until now, finally face to face with him.

&. c!foolish x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: swearing & arson

bones' note: wrote this in three hours, thought you guys might enjoy :) also my first time writng a full length fic for foolish! i hope i got the characterization right haha

Being in love is dangerous.

You’ve known this since you were a kid. Ever since your first crush, your first love, and your first heartbreak— You knew falling in love meant being forced to deal with the repercussions if something were to go wrong. Therefore, it was easier to guard your heart. You wouldn’t need to worry about the consequences of love if you never found it. You were content with it; not having someone there made your independence grow.

But your loneliness was suffocating.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t bothering you. You were fine being alone— You’ve come this far without anyone. Why would you need someone— but you also missed having company. With every day passing day, you felt more and more alone, until you couldn’t convince yourself you were fine being alone.

You wanted someone there. You wanted that feeling of freedom that comes with love. But you were afraid of the negatives. You were too scared to seek anyone out, too afraid of falling in love and it ending in tragedy (everything ends in tragedy, is what you tell yourself). Yet, you long for it. You dream for it. But you’ll never seek it out because of your fear.

So, you continued living your quaint life. You hunted; you fished; you gathered various berries and plants; you hoped for someone to love you; you cooked and cleaned and reorganized your house. It was a fairly small house, one of the smaller houses in your village, so you could redecorate it without moving too many items around. It was small, quaint, and you liked it that way. You were never one for the grand things anyways.

Your schedule was the same every day, one you rinsed and repeated as soon as the sun rose and as soon as it set. Then, a stranger came by your house.

He looked different than everyone in the village. He had to be a newcomer. He had golden skin that might as well have been made out of gold with the way it shined in the sun; emerald green eyes that lit up brilliantly; a robe he wore that fit him well, but also showed off the muscle underneath. You opened the door to his bright grin, arching an eyebrow.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” He responded cheerfully. “I’m new here and, well, you looked pretty welcoming! Was wondering if you could give me the grand ol’ tour of the place?” You had no idea how he could act so cheerful so early, but it made you smile slightly. As for showing him around— you had nothing better to do, so why not?

“Sure. What’s your name?” You asked, watching him beam at the confirmation.

“Foolish! And what may your name be?” Oddly, the name suited him.

“[Name]. It’s very nice to meet you, Foolish.”

“You too! Now, how ‘bout we get to that tour, hm?” He grinned.

You giggled, stepping outside and shutting your door. “Alright. Let’s go, Foolish.”

With that, you gave Foolish a tour of your village. There wasn’t much to show, considering how small the village was and how little people occupied it. There were really only the major buildings you had to show off: The Clinic, Town Hall, and the Blacksmith. Town Hall was where everyone gathered if need be. Although, it hasn’t been used in ages. It was collecting dust more than serving as a meeting place. The Blacksmith was where all the weapons were forged handcrafted by the only man you’ve ever seen handle weapons in the town. You found it weird how he was interested in the Blacksmith of all places but didn’t think too much of it.

However, Foolish’s bright energy made up for the lack of places to show him. He was still curious with everything you showed him, with a smile that hadn’t dimmed the entire time. You don’t think you’ve ever met a happier man in your life. Even you hadn’t smiled the entire time. His happiness was infectious though, occasionally making you grin every time you even looked at him. Maybe he was a wizard.

“And that.” You clapped your hands, turning to Foolish. “Concludes the tour! Hope you enjoyed everything and have a good time living here.” Foolish only seemed to brighten more, thanking you for the tour and going off somewhere. Maybe to build a house or renovate one of the abandoned ones.

A month after Foolish moved in, you had only gotten to know the man more. His cheerfulness wasn’t a onetime thing, instead he was simply happy all the time. You couldn’t wrap your head around how or why, but it was beginning to rub off on you. You’ve laughed harder in a few days with Foolish than you have in the recent months. His bright, happy attitude simply was infectious.

And maybe he was too.

You found yourself wanting to see him every day. He was in your head form the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep. It was strange to think that, just after a few months of Foolish being here, you were already hopelessly in love with him. But you didn’t want to be. Love meant getting hurt. You didn’t want to be put through that.

But it was Foolish. Foolish who had a smile that could cheer anyone up; Foolish who had a squeaky laugh that was funnier than any joke he told; Foolish who’s shark tail would swing side-to-side every time he was excited; Foolish he couldn’t contain his happiness; Foolish who made you feel more special than anyone else ever has; Foolish who you’re in love with.

And, as you lay there in your bed that night, you come to think that maybe love couldn’t be so bad if it was with Foolish.

So, you set out for him in the morning, hoping to tell him about your feelings. You waited at the spot that you two always sat it: A tree to the east of the village. It was nice and peaceful, and you were happy you began coming there with Foolish. Time passed, and he wasn’t there. Usually, he was there before you, always up bright and early. You never knew why though.

It only took twenty minutes until you realized he wasn’t coming. Had you done something? Maybe you upset him in some way? You tried to rack your brain for anything that you could’ve done, only to come up empty handed. You didn’t remember doing anything wrong anyways. Still, you had to go and see what it was.

Your legs carried you to Foolish’s door as if it was something you had done a thousand times before. And it certainly was.

You knocked at the man’s door, waiting for a response. You didn’t get one. Odd.

“Foolish? Hey, it’s me, [Name]. Are you in there? I was waiting for you at our spot, but you didn’t show, so I got worried. Did I do something? I don’t remember hurting you, but if I did, I’m sorry. Will you please come out?”

No response. You huffed, eyebrows furrowing. You decided to take a peek in the window, standing as high as you could, but you could only see a little bit inside. His bed was made, like it always was, but Foolish was nowhere to be seen. You were worried now. What if something happened to him? What if he was kidnapped? What if—

You slapped yourself in the face. You had to be calm. Foolish was probably out doing something and would be back later today, just as he always was. He’d be back (thought it felt more like a reassurance now).

Hours passed. No signs of Foolish being back. You were growing restless, pacing in your living room, chewing on your hands. You couldn’t stop worrying about him. It was dumb, you know, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted nothing more than his safety.

Your worrying for Foolish was cut short when a scream rang out in the village. You almost thought you didn’t hear it at first, but as soon as you processed what it was, you ran outside. People were running towards you, screaming and panicking, and as you looked past them, you could see why:

Fire. Fire was spreading throughout the village, starting at one of the houses, and continuing to each and every building. You could feel the heat. Frantically, you looked around as to what could’ve caused the fire, while also trying not to get trampled in the onslaught of people. Even if there weren’t many, they were all running out the same way.

Before you could move a muscle, you spotted a figure atop a horse, holding a torch.

Foolish.

He was there. Right in front of you. You were almost happy to see him before the torch in his hand registered in your mind. You almost didn’t want to believe it. How could Foolish�� The guy who you gave a tour of the village to, who’s lived here for months— even think about burning the village down? What had happened to him?”

You yelled his name. He was quick to turn around, with one hand holding the horses’ reigns and the other wrapped around the torch. Several emotions flashed across his face, before confusion and anger were set in stone. “What are you still doing here!? Go, run!” He urged you, motioning towards where everyone else was running. You stayed in place.

“Did you burn the village down!?” You yelled instead, watching the surprise flash across his face. Before, again, anger was set in stone. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip tightened on the torch.

“I did what I had to do, [Name]. Now, go. Before you get hurt.”

With a harsh tug of the reigns, Foolish’s horse was speeding past you, the flame of the torch attaching to whatever it could. You could only watch in confusion and hurt and anger. How dare he burn the village like that? How dare he make you fall in love with him?

A tear fell down your cheek. You sniffed and wiped at it, before running as fast as you could away from your now ruined home. Your home, your love, and your town all gone within a span of minutes. You could almost laugh at it.

You were right. Everything ends in tragedy.

You ran until your legs couldn’t carry you for hours upon hours. Adrenaline still rushed through your system; the only reason you were even standing up right now, honestly. Still, it couldn’t hold you over forever. As it began wearing down, you could feel the ache in your joints, soon wincing with every move. It hurt. And it was all his fault.

With anger seeping into your heart, you passed out in the grass.

When you came to, you were met with a wooden ceiling and a severe wave of pain. You hissed, blinking wearily as to not have your eyes fill with tears. The amount of pain was something you’ve never faced before. You must’ve run longer than you thought you did.

You sat up, groaning. You raised a hand to your head, feeling it throb. You winced, looking around to see where you were; just as you thought, you had no clue. Great.

Squeaking made you sneap your head to the entrance, seeing a boy walk in with a wet towel. He looked surprised that you were awake, before cracking open the door and sticking his head out. "Tommy, they’re awake!” He shouted. While you could hear what you assumed to be Tommy running to the door, you instead focused on the boy in the doorway.

He looked young, probably around eleven or twelve. Red horns poked out from behind his hair, and you could see a horned tail swaying as well. He moved aside for another boy to come in: Tommy. He looked around the same age, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He turned towards you. “Finally awake, eh?” He asked. You nodded.

The pair walked towards you, the shorter of the two handing you the wet rag. You sighed as you placed it on your forehead, immediate relief flooding through your system. “We found you passed out in the field,” The boy with demon horns explained. “So, we brought you here. Oh! I’m Eryn, and this is¾”

“Tommy! The one and only! All the girls love me, you know?” He cut the other off.

You snickered at him, a fond smile on your face. You’ve always liked kids. Tommy seemed to take mock offense to that, eyebrows furrowing comically and a huff coming from him. “We should’ve left you in the field,” He grumbled. Eryn elbowed him in the side.

“Tommy!”

“What!? We should’ve!”

Eryn gave a final glare, before turning towards you. “What were you doin’ out in the field anyways? Did something happen?” You tried to talk but was only able to cough. Some of the smoke must have gotten in your lungs. You groaned internally. “Oh! Right, here’s some water.” Eryn carefully handed you the water, the two boys watching you gulp it down.

Eryn took the empty cup, handing it to Tommy to refill it. He whined at him having to be the one to do it but walked off anyways. “My…” You trailed off, clearing your throat. “My village was burnt down. Not far from here, I think.” Eryn frowned.

“My village was burnt down recently too. Weird, innit?” You nodded.

“Well, this is Tommy’s village. The people here are nice. You can stay here as long as you’d like if you want. I’ve been staying here too.” He explained, a kind smile on his face. He couldn’t be any older than a preteen, and yet he had apparently had his home burnt down. How was he acting so strong about it? You didn’t have the gall to ask, so you instead opted to answer his question.

“I probably will… if that’s okay, of course.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’ll check with the guy who runs the place, but it should be fine either way.”

Tommy came barging in a second later. “I’ve got your water!”

As time passed, you were able to finally leave your bed. You were accepted as the new member of the small town, and even became more acquainted with Tommy and Eryn. You found out both of them were twelve, but Tommy was older by a few months. He, of course, held this over Eryn any time he could.

You were fond of them. They were like little brothers to you.

Years passed since you first came into the village. Tommy and Eryn were both now fifteen, and you couldn’t be prouder of them for everything they’ve done. They were bright kids who you’d now grown attached to. However, it was when they were fifteen that Tommy would have to decide between a server and his home.

The invite to the server, Dream SMP, was hand delivered by Dream. He had found out where the boy’s village was— How? You had no clue,— and was willing to invite him and one other person. Immediately, he turned to Eryn, hope shining in his bright blue eyes. “This could be a new start for us, man! Think about it! And it’s to the Dream SMP! How fucking sick is that!?”

The Dream SMP was a small server, consisting of a few people, but the people in it were popular as well. George NotFound, Sapnap Halo, and Dream WasTaken were all highly regarded people. They made the server famous by simply being it. Everyone wanted in it, so once you get an invite, you don’t turn it down.

Eryn thought differently though.

He frowned, looking around at the village. “I don’t know. I like it here, Toms. I’ve grown close with them. They’re like family to me now.” He answered, making Tommy gawk at him. “But it’s to the Dream SMP, Eryn! This village will be fine without us. Just please say you’ll go, Eryn?” Tommy tried to do puppy eyes. Eryn simply smiled at him.

“Maybe if I get an invite later on, okay? But, right now, I’m content here.” Eryn looked over at you, then back at Tommy. “But maybe [Name] would like to go.”

Tommy looked over at you. You smiled back at him. “I’m good. I’ll stay here and keep Eryn company.” You could see the relief flash in Eryn’s eyes, despite how he was willing to let you go if you wanted to. Tommy huffed but didn’t press It any further. He didn’t seem mad, just slightly upset. Which was expected.

“Wait!” He suddenly snapped, turning to Dream. “if Eryn ever gets invited to the SMP— Which I’m sure he will after you realize how amazing and awesome he is— then can he use my extra invite?”

Dream seemed to hum in thought. “Sure, kid.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid, prick!”

Tommy was set off with his stuff the next morning, bright and early. You and Eryn say goodbye, watching Dream open up a portal for him and Tommy to walk through. The boy gave you and Eryn one last wave, and you could’ve sworn he was tearing up. He would’ve snapped at you if you said anything though, so you merely waved. You could hear Eryn sniffling though. And maybe you were too. Just a little bit.

More than a year had gone by when someone from the Dream SMP came by again.

Neither you nor Eryn were expecting to open the door to see Sapnap. He looked intimidating, with large horns that stuck out from his head and a bright gaze that resembled a flame. He smiled at you two though, holding two slips of paper in his hands.

“Two tickets to the Dream SMP. Just for you guys, per Tommy’s request.”

You and Eryn lit up at the mention of Tommy, hurriedly packing your bags. You were happy to see him again, and you could tell Eryn was too. He missed his best friend, and you missed your pseudo little brother. As Sapnap made the portal, Eryn couldn’t stop bouncing on his heels. “How is he? Toms, I mean.” He asked.

Something came over Sapnap’s face. Sadness, guilt, and sympathy. “He’s… doing okay, I think. He’s been through a lot, but I know he’ll be happy to see you guys.” Worry started churning in your gut. What could he have been through? Hopefully only normal teenager stuff. But you were glad he’d be happy to see you and Eryn.

The Dream SMP was… chaotic, to say the least. Just the look from the spawn made you think about what could’ve happened here. Sapnap gave you guys a short tour, until you guys came up to Tommy’s house. Which was a dirt shack? You and Eryn glanced at each other but made no comment about it. Sapnap knocked on the wooden door.

“Tommy? You in there? I brought some visitors.”

There was shuffling from inside, before a voice that unmistakably belonged to Tommy began shouting. “If you don’t have any of my wives with you, then go away!” Eryn snickered at that, and Sapnap rolled his eyes.

“They’re better than any of your wives, Tommy. Just come on out.”

There was grumbling and more shuffling, before the door swing open to reveal… Tommy?

He looked different. Much different. Not only was he taller than before, his blond hair had grown out, and now had a white streak in it. His once bright eyes looked dull. Scars littered his face, and a blue cardigan covered him up. He looked sickly pale too. You couldn’t dwell on that thought, even if you were sure Eryn was doing the same thing.

“ERYN! [NAME]!” Tommy shouted.

He tackled you and Eryn, unable to contain his excitement. Just like when he was smaller. You and Eryn both laughed, quickly returning the hug. Tommy leaned back, glancing between you and his former best friend, before laughing. “You’re here! Both of you! You guys actually came! Oh, my Prime, it’s been so long!”

“Too long, man!” Eryn laughed.

They were happy. Your pseudo little brothers had reunited, and they were happy.

After the reunion, Tommy began taking you on a tour. “A better tour than a wrong’un like Sapnap could give you,” He had said. The tour was fun, and you were happy to see them so happy, until Tommy suddenly stopped.

“I know who’s builds you guys will enjoy! Let me show you to the best goddamn builder you’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Although you and Eryn asked who it was, Tommy said that he’d save who it was for a surprise. He was most likely to be at his house anyways. So, you and Eryn followed Tommy through the Nether, to a different portal. That portal lead you all to a dessert which, as Tommy had said, was packed with wonderous buildings. You and Eryn awed at it, taking a look around for yourselves.

Tommy and Eryn had run off to look at the pyramid, but you stayed behind, looking at the large buildings. Whoever built all of it had amazing skill and too much time on their hands.

After more looking around, you heard footsteps from behind you. Tommy or Eryn, you thought. “This place is great, guys, really—” You turned around.

There, in front of you, was Foolish. Foolish from years ago. You gaped at him, and he gaped at you. “[Name]…?” He let out, taking a step towards you. That same anger from years ago that you had long forgotten came back. And it was boiling.

“Don’t say my name,” You hissed, watching him take a step back. “Don’t even speak to me. Not after what you did to my home. How fucking dare you, Foolish!?” You were yelling now, but you could care less. Years of anger that had settled at the pit of your stomach was rising to the surface now, and you were determined to let Foolish feel your wrath.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” You laughed. “You should’ve been sorry years ago.”

“I was sorry years ago!” Foolish snapped, his fists clenching. He let out a sigh. “I was sorry. I am sorry. It was supposed to be a heist. And then I got attached to you and it all went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to stay there for that long, or fall in love with you, but I did!”

You stayed silent. Only some words registered for you.

“You fell in love with me?” You murmured.

His eyes softened. “Yes. I’m still in love with you. I’ve thought about you every day.” Carefully, he brings a hand to yours, engulfing it in his warmth like he had years ago. Your hand shook in his grasp, and he placed a kiss to the top of it. Somehow that only made it worse.

Your lip trembled. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

“Because I’ve changed. I promise I have. Let me prove it to you. Please.”

You’re conflicted. You want to forgive him, but you don’t. It’s been years, and holding onto anger isn’t good, you know that, but you can’t help it. Not when you can still hear their screams echo in your ears. Not when you can still feel the smoke in your lungs. Yet, somehow, some part of you wants to forgive him. Why?

Because it’s him. It’s Foolish who used to make you feel like you were on cloud nine; it’s Foolish who made you feel like you put the stars in the sky; it’s Foolish who made you feel special when no one else could; it’s Foolish who made you believe in love; it’s Foolish who you’re still in love with.

And maybe that’s not so bad, as long as it’s with him.

Tentatively, you bit your bottom lip, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t…” You hesitate, trailing off, but one look into Foolish’s green eyes and suddenly you feel like you can take on the world (for him). “I think I can forgive you with time. But not now.”

A grin broke across his face. He shouted in glee, abandoning your hand to pick you up instead, spinning you around happily. You squealed and laughed as he did too, his infectious laugher only make you laugh more. He held you close to him, and you can see the old Foolish in him. The one that made you smile until your face hurt and laugh until your stomach hurt. Maybe you could forgive him.

“I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed,” Foolish whispers, still smiling.

You smile back at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

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