#Sofa Seat Protectors

[dbeautify2017]

Pink Plush Head and Back Protector

Ensure your baby’s safety and comfort with our Baby Head Protector and Back Protector Plush Toy. Designed for infants and toddlers, this plush toy provides essential head and back support while adding a touch of fun to your baby’s everyday activities.

[ladykailitha]

Just a little angst that I thought of while at work today.

Eddie realizes too late what that look on Steve’s face meant in the forest and later after Vecna is defeated. That look. You know the one. The one that is warm and fond and adoring all at once. Or as Eddie realizes as Steve gives the same look to his new girlfriend, Becca, utterly in love. A look that used to be all Eddie’s. He was the only one that Steve looked at that way. But not anymore.

She’s sweet and lovely and as much as Eddie wants to hate her he can’t, because she likes him, too. She’s everything Steve deserves and more. He can’t even be mad about it.

So Eddie starts to pull away. What else can he do? He can’t watch Steve be with her, it hurts too much.

One night at a party, probably a birthday of one of the kids, one they both have to attend, Eddie is watching Steve and Robin comes up to him to ask him if he’s okay.

He’s not. How could he ever be? He could have had Steve and lost the chance. Robin understands. She offers to cover for him if he wants to go home. And that’s when the room starts spinning. Maybe the feelings aren’t just emotional, maybe he’s coming down with something, too.

Robin offers to take him home and have Wayne drop her off at home on his way to work. She goes to make excuses with everyone and Steve tells her that Eddie needs anything to let him know.

Steve wants to be the one to take him, the protector that he is. But he knows. He has no right. No claim on Eddie. So he lets Robin take Eddie home.

Two days later, Eddie is still sick. Doctors say it’s the flu. He’s miserable and alone and he can’t tell what hurts more, his head or his heart. Wayne has gone to work and Eddie can’t even move at this point. And then he feels a cool hand on his head. It’s safe and it’s comforting. He opens his eyes and sees Steve knelling there, brushing his hair back in soothing motions.

“Where’s...” Eddie frowns. “Fuck, I can barely remember my own name at the moment...girlfriend person...”

Steve chuckles. “Visiting her grandmother in Florida.”

Eddie frowns. “But you’ve only been dating a couple months...why big trip?”

Steve is still smoothing Eddie’s hair. “Goes every year at this time. It’s not a big deal.”

“Could have gone with her?” Eddie asks. His head is starting to feel better with every stroke of Steve’s hand.

“Too early for that, I think,” Steve mutters. “What do you need, sunshine? Let me take care of you.”

Eddie knows he shouldn’t, but he’s sick and he’s tired and needs comfort, so he let’s him. Let’s it slip how he feels about Steve, too. But he doesn’t remember that. 

“Missed you,” he mutters before Steve leaves for the night.

“Missed you too, Eds.”

A week later and Eddie’s feeling better. He wakes up to a knock on the trailer door. When he answers it, there is Steve. Beautiful, wonderful, amazing Steve.

Steve tells him that Becca broke up with him. And Eddie is shocked. He’s even more shocked when Steve is surprisingly chill about it.

“What happened?” Eddie asks once they’re seated on the sofa.

“Apparently her best friend that she grew up with in Florida told her that he loved her and that he always had.”

“So you got dumped because she was in love with this best friend person?” Eddie asks incredulously.

Steve laughs. “It’s okay because I told her I was in love with my best friend, too.”

“Uh...” Eddie says, “Robin’s gay, dude.”

Steve laughs harder. “No! She’s my Platonic soulmate. You’re my best friend, Eds.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he says again as the realization dawns. And then breaths a sigh of relief when Steve finally kisses him.

 “You absolute menace,” Steve says fondly.

Eddie blushes. “Yeah, but I’m your menace.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve says. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[lynn-w3st]

MK1: Babysitting 101

Pairing: MK1 various x child reader (platonic)

Summary: Your parents left to a business trip and left you in the care of your uncle Johnny. Let’s just say everyone wants to adopt you.

Content: (Y,N) is a polite child, Protective Johnny, Fluff and Cute moments.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/lynn-w3st/734299278669938688/mk1-babysitting-101-part-2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sleeping peacefully in your guest bedroom that your uncle Johnny prepared for you as you were staying with him until your parents came back from their business trip.

However, it seems your beauty sleep has been interrupted by the sound of glass breaking. Being only ten years old, you decided to investigate the noise as you pick up your favorite stuff penguin and made your way out the guest bedroom towards the stairs that led to the living room of your uncle’s mansion.

Upon descending down the stairs, you witness your uncle tying up a tuxedo man (Kenshi) in a chair. “ Uncle John.” You said as your uncle and the tuxedo man turn their attention to you. Despite coming here to retake Sento, Kenshi stared at you with an expression of curiosity.

Your uncle quickly stood up and walk towards you. “ Hey kiddo why are you awake? Did you have a nightmare again.” He said softly. Johnny Cage is known to be a cocky and arrogant man but when it comes to little you, he’s a big softy and spoils you. You shook your head as you hug Mr. Bubbles close to you and stared at him.

“ I miss mom and dad, can I stay with you for a while here.” You said as Johnny winced as he didn’t want you to see a random man tied up. He definitely didn’t want your mother to scold and murder him for letting you witness him having a random guy in his mansion tied up.

Johnny let out a sigh as he pick you up and place you on the sofa and wrap a comfy blanket around you to keep you warm. “ Don’t tell your mother about this.” He said in a shaky tone as he didn’t want to face his sister’s angry wrath.

You chuckled as you did a zip motion against your lips. “ I won’t uncle John.” You said as your uncle chuckled and ruffled your fringe bangs. He went back to take a seat in front of the man in the chair as they resume their conversation.

The sound of the doorbell rang as you notice that your uncle was still talking to the man. It seems he didn’t hear the doorbell rang, so being a curious child, you decided to answer it.

Your tiny hand opens the door to reveal three tall men standing before you. Two of the men were dress as ninjas and held a serious look.

“ Good evening, Johnny- oh hell there young one.” Liu Kang said softly as you stared up at him and titled your head a bit side ways.

The ninja man in yellow couldn’t help but found your expression adorable as the ninja man in blue held a tiny amuse expression. You continue to stare at the men as your uncle came over.

He covered your ears so you wouldn’t have to hear him swear as Johnny once learn that lesson the hard by his sister-in-law who scold him.

“ What in the actual fuck.” Johnny said as he uncovered your ears and held your tiny hand. “ Goodevening Johnny Cage. I’am Lord Liu Kang. Protector of Earthrealm. May we enter.”

“ Hey kiddo why don’t you go back to bed. You’re probably tired.” Your uncle said as he turn to face you. You tighten your grip on his hand and shook your head, he let out a sigh.

Your uncle then stared at the two men behind Liu Kang as he let out a chuckled and turn to face you before turning back. “ Sure come on in.” He said as he allowed the three men in.

Uncle Johnny pick you up and gently place you back into the sofa before making his way towards where the three men were standing.

“ Kenshi Takahashi. Your actions this evening do you no good.” Liu Kang said to the man tied up who is known as Kenshi. You watch from the sofa as the yellow ninja man glance at you.

You continue to watch as your uncle Johnny spoke to the random strangers. You often wondered if you should’ve had stayed with your babysitter today instead of your uncle’s.

The sound of glass breaking caught your attention as you saw uncle Johnny be thrown across the room. “ Uncle Johnny!” You yelled.

Liu Kang frown as he motion for Kuai Liang to check on you. The yellow ninja man made his way to you. Being only eight years old, you got off from the sofa and took a step back in fear and curled up in a corner with your stuff toy.

Your eyes began to watered and let out a sniff, which cause Kuai Liang to freeze in fear. He didn’t mean to make you scared as he knelt down and offered his hand out to you.

“ It’s ok.” He said in a gentle tone hoping to ease your fear as he means you no harm. Kuai Liang couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

He wanted nothing more than to protect you as he once did in a previous timeline where he and his brother witness your tragic death.

You stared at the man as you place your shaky hand onto his warm hand. Kuai Liang softly smiled as he stood up and held your hand.

He couldn’t help but softly tighten his grip on you as he was afraid that you’ll fade away from him. Kuai Liang stared at your innocent eyes.

“ Come little one.” He said and led you towards Liu Kang as Bi-Han held a deadly stare with you with a mixture of curiosity and interest in them.

“ I’m sorry for the intrusion young one. We did not mean to frighten you with our presences.” He said softly as he knelt into one knee to show you that he means no harm. You wipe your tears and gave him a bright innocent smile.

Liu Kang felt his heart shatter as he knew that in previous timeline you were a Lin Kuei and your death made the brothers devastated.

You let go of Kuai Liang’s hand which cause him to frown a bit as you then held Liu Kang’s hand. The fire god smiled and stood up.

“ It’s ok and is my uncle going to be ok.” You said as Liu Kang nodded and ruffled your hair.

A groan was heard as your uncle stood up and dusted himself. He scoff in disbelief as he saw his favorite masterpiece broken into pieces.

“ That was my achuli. One of a kind. And get your hands away from my niece.” He said as Bi Han and Kuai Liang got into fighting stances.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ And scene! I hope your insure cause you’re going to pay for my hichuli!” Johnny said as Sub Zero and Scorpion stood up. “ Imbecile! You have no idea with whom you’re dealing!”

Sub Zero said angrily as Liu Kang had enough of this behavior. “ ENOUGH!” He yelled as his body light up on fire for a bit which cause you to jump in fear. Johnny notice and pick you up.

Soon everything cease as your uncle gently soothed you as Kenshi was released from his captivity as Kuai Liang stood behind you and stared at you with a curious expression. Your eyes became tired and let out a sleepy yawn.

The pyromancer chuckled softly as he took every fiber in his body to not pinch your soft cheeks or hold you in his arms as he once did in a previous timeline. If only he knew the truth.

“ You both have been chosen to join its champion.” Liu Kang said walking towards him. His eyes settled on to your sleeping form and soften. “ Why him? Or me for that matter?”

“ Because I have faith that you will rise to the challenge. And your service will change the arcs of your lives.” Liu Kang said as Johnny side eye at Kenshi and then look at your sleeping form.

“ I can’t just leave my niece by herself. But I don’t want her to be part of this.” Johnny said as he definitively going to be murder by his sister. “ She can stay in the fire temple. It will be a safe place for her to be in.” Liu Kang offered as he found himself attached to little you.

Johnny Cage was hesitant as he let out a sigh and he didn’t have no other choice. He just hopes that his sister-in-law never find out about this. Kuai Liang felt a sense of deja vu when he saw you sleeping against Johnny’s shoulder.

“ Very well we shall make our destination back. Johnny Cage it would be wise if you gave young (Y,N) to Kuai Liang.” Liu Kang said as Kuai was surprised and confused as Bi-Han glared.

“ No my niece is staying close to me. I don’t trust these two.” Johnny said as Bi-Han scoff as he didn’t see why this child was so important.

Liu Kang frown as he understood but he had hope that maybe you are the key to fixing and helping the situation of the three brothers. He knew that in do time, you will soon discover who you were in previous timelines.

The fire god open a portal that leads to the academy as he will make sure that your faith doesn’t end up like your past self. You were just a innocent little girl with no knowledge of how cruel the world is. He hopes to keep it that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: So I actually thought about this funny scenario at work and especially when I replayed that scene in the game. Hope you guys enjoy this random one shot that I made.

I’m so sorry if Kuai Liang was written a bit off as you know I tried my best with this. Also, please message me if you have any questions for me.

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Family <3

genre: Fluff, Comfort, Bf!Skz, Sibling!Skz, Bsf!Skz, gn!reader

© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.

requests and taglist are open! (M.Lists)

(gifs not mine; credit to owner)

imagine…

Coming home from what had been a horrendously long and stressful day to see your sweet boyfriend in a cozy pair of sweats and t-shirt, he was sat on the living room sofa chatting with his two best friends about whatever it is producer dudes talk about. he looked so stinkin adorable with his natural fluffy hair all disheveled and curly as his glasses sat calmly on his beautiful bare face and you had all intentions on napping in his arms after the day you had today regardless to who was in your house right now. You came in kicking off your shoes at the door, dropping your keys and bag on the island counter and heading straight to your room to change without acknowledging anyone in the house. That immediately had changbin snapping his neck in your direction taking notice of the exhausted look on your face without breaking his current conversation. About 5 or so minutes later his eyes lit up to see you coming to join them in the living room in your fuzzy pj’s holding your favorite pillow and blanket.

“Hey family.. please excuse me while i nap” you sigh kissing the top of changbins head then sitting down next to him getting ready to lay your head in his lap and take the nap of your life, but before you could

“far out! mate are we invisible??” channie said to jisung as he crossed his arms with furrowed brows at you. “you do remember that we knew you before binnie right!?” jisung added. “yet he’s the one that gets all the love? im so done with you” channie roles his eyes

binnie giggles to himself putting his head down like he always does refusing to interfere anytime you and channie would get into it. you sigh again getting up from your seat walking over to the sofa opposite you and your boyfriend. “i would offer a sassy rebuttal normally but i’m just way too tired today.. come here channie my bestest most favorite sweetest big brother ever” you lean down from behind the sofa hugging him around his shoulders and kissing the top of his head “yeah whatever looser.. im your ONLY big brother.” “Where you ever able to order the flower arrangements for mom’s birthday dinner this weekend?” he added looking up at you “ i haven’t had time today i was super swamped. But i can definitely do it in the morning!” “Dont worry about it i’ll handle it.” “you sure? tomorrow’s an off day for me i can do it.” “no worries, i got it. you just make sure you rest up on your day off.” “okay” you kiss the top of his head once more before moving over to jisung giving him the same hug and kiss you did your older brother.

“i didn’t forget you jiji” “dont act like you love me now, im tired of being chosen last!” “just like when were kids??” you teased reaching down to steal a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap. “please do not bring up my childhood trauma right now! you chose me last for every single game of freeze tag when im literally faster than you!” everyone bursted into laughter at jisungs dramatic episode as you walked back over to your spot on the sofa next to your boyfriend.

“Okay goodnight family, i legit cannot keep my eyes open any longer” you grabbed your pillow placing it in changbins lap laying down as he wrapped the blanket around you.

“Night night, jagi” your boyfriend whispered as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Sleep tight!” jisung added

“We love you kiddo..” chan smiled.

You fell asleep instantly, as your boyfriend brother and best friend all went back to continuing their previous conversation. the room felt so warm and fuzzy filled with love. You were beyond grateful for the men in your life they were your everything. your back bones, your protectors, your safe spaces. They were your family, and you couldn’t even fathom the thought of living life without theses three in it.

taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @turtledove824 @laylasbunbunny @armystay89

buy me a coffee?

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Plan | Sebastian Sallow x OC #64

my dear friends, we are nearing the end, only two chapters to go after this...

Summary: Ominis and Anne arrive to Muldoon Manor; a plan is devised.

Words: ~6,900

Tags: Fluff, Pureblood Politics, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Drama, Romance

Timeline: Mid September

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

The warm glow of the fire cast dancing shadows on the polished wood paneling of the grand sitting room. The atmosphere was relaxed, the soft clinking of teacups and occasional bursts of laughter filling the space. Sebastian sat beside Evangeline on the plush sofa, his arm draped casually along the back behind her. Though he was at ease, his proximity spoke of quiet protectiveness, a steady reassurance he hadn’t wavered since they’d arrived.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips as he recounted a tale. “Ah, Rowena at fifteen… Those were chaotic times. You see, ancient magic has always run in our family, but its manifestation is unpredictable at best. Nobody had seen it in generations. When it first surfaced in Rowena, no one knew what to do with her."

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at Evangeline. “As I’m sure you’ve realized, ancient magic doesn’t come with instructions. Rowena was lucky that our family has a wealth of information in our library—books, scrolls, even journals from ancestors who wielded it. But none of it can replace a proper mentor. Learning to control it is… difficult.”

Benedict chuckled, setting his teacup down with a soft clink. “I was in my seventh year at Durmstrang when it first manifested in Rowena, and I was her reluctant protector by default. And, well, let’s just say the west wing of Durmstrang paid the price for our collective ignorance.”

Percival, seated across from them, grinned as he leaned forward. “I was just a second-year at the time, but I remember it vividly. One minute everything was fine, and the next—” he gestured dramatically, his grin widening—“the whole wing was frozen solid. Icicles hanging from the chandeliers, frost creeping up the walls. It looked like a blizzard had swept through.”

“What happened?” Evangeline asked, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity piqued.

Cassian’s smile turned wistful. “Ancient magic is powerful, yes, but it’s tied so closely to the wielder’s emotions. Rowena’s boyfriend at the time—well, ex-boyfriend, as of that day—had broken up with her. It hit her hard, and she lost control. The entire wing became a frozen wasteland before anyone realized what was happening.”

Benedict nodded, his expression softening. “She didn’t mean to, of course. She was mortified afterward. Kept apologizing to anyone who would listen, even as the headmaster wrapped her in a blanket and ordered the rest of us to evacuate.”

Sebastian smirked, glancing at Evangeline. “Sounds familiar,” he quipped, his tone teasing but affectionate. “You should tell them about the time you confronted Lysander Clearwater. Turned the Great Hall into a bloody thunderstorm."

Evangeline chuckled awkwardly, her cheeks coloring as she sank back against the cushions. "Yes, thank you for the reminder, Sebastian."

Sebastian glanced at her uncles with a grin. "I'd gotten into a fight that day with Evangeline's ex during a game of Quidditch. Evie came bursting into the Great Hall at dinner time and summoned a bolt of lightning from the ceiling while telling him off. Destroyed the entire Ravenclaw table."

Benedict laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking as he reached for his teacup. “Destroyed the entire Ravenclaw table, you say? I knew I liked her.”

Evangeline’s blush intensified as she sunk further into the sofa, but Sebastian grinned, clearly enjoying her uncles’ reactions. “Not even the professors wanted to mess with her after that,” he added, his voice tinged with pride. “Even Sharp gave her a wide berth for a while.”

Cassian chuckled, his deep voice carrying an edge of amusement. “Sounds just like Rowena to me. By her seventh year, she had learned to control her magic well enough to perform feats just as impressive. But she was never one to use her power recklessly. She was full of heart and fiercely protective of those she cared about.”

Benedict hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “Rowena certainly had a way of commanding respect—or fear—when it mattered most. But what we all loved about her was that, underneath all that power, she was just... Rowena. Brave, loyal, full of life.”

Percival smirked, glancing at Evangeline with a teasing glint in his eye. “She was named after Rowena Ravenclaw, you know. That's where Muldoons were sorted, back when our family attended Hogwarts, long before Durmstrang opened. And yet,” he added with a dramatic pause, “there’s not a doubt in my mind she would’ve been sorted into Gryffindor.”

Sebastian let out a bark of laughter, slapping his knee. “That’s exactly where Evangeline ended up!” he said, glancing at her with a grin. “No hesitation. The hat barely touched her head before it shouted Gryffindor.”

Evangeline groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or embarrassed.”

“Flattered,” Cassian said with a wink. “Absolutely flattered.”

Their shared laughter echoed through the room, a warmth filling the space that was unfamiliar yet comforting. These were the kinds of stories Evangeline had always dreamed of hearing—tales of her mother, her family, and the legacy she’d never known she was a part of.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the easy conversation was interrupted by the sudden flare of emerald flames in the hearth. The fire roared to life, its intensity drawing all eyes to the fireplace as two figures stepped through.

Ominis and Anne.

Their wands were drawn, their expressions tense and wary. Ominis’s movements were precise, his wand trained on the room as he positioned himself protectively in front of Anne. Her eyes darted around the space, scanning for danger, her wand trembling slightly in her grip.

Ominis’s voice was sharp and steady, cutting through the silence. “Evangeline, Sebastian—are you alright?”

Evangeline quickly rose from the sofa, her hands raised in a calming gesture. “We’re fine! Ominis, Anne, it’s alright. We're safe here.”

Sebastian was already on his feet as well, his protective instincts kicking in as he stepped forward. “Put your wands down,” he said firmly, though his voice carried a note of reassurance. “No one’s in danger.”

Anne’s voice wavered, her wand lowering slightly but not fully at ease. “You’re… you’re okay?”

Ominis, however, remained on edge, his wand steady and his posture rigid. "We... thought you'd been forced to write the letter to lure us here. You really expect us to believe that this isn’t a trap?”

Evangeline took a cautious step forward, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. “It’s not a trap, I swear. The letter was real, but we’re not in any danger—not from them.” She gestured to the Muldoons, who remained seated, watching the scene unfold with quiet patience.

Sebastian moved to his sister's side. “Look around,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Does this look like the kind of place where we’re being held hostage?”

Anne hesitated, her gaze drifting from the Muldoons calm expressions to the steaming teapot on the table and the untouched plate of biscuits beside it. The room was warm and inviting, the crackling of the fire doing its best to soften her panic. Slowly, she lowered her wand, though her grip remained tight. “I… I don’t understand."

Ominis’s wand remained raised, his head tilting slightly as he listened to every shift and rustle in the room. “How do we know you’re not under some kind of enchantment?” he pressed, his voice sharp.

Cassian, who had been quietly observing from his chair, finally spoke, his tone measured. “I assure you, Mr. Gaunt, no one here is under any enchantment. You’re both welcome to verify it for yourselves if it puts your minds at ease.”

“And if there’s anything else we can do to prove we mean no harm," Benedict added softly, his expression kind but serious. “Just ask.”

Ominis flicked his wand with practiced precision, the faint shimmer of a wordless charm weaving through the air. A subtle pulse emanated outward, brushing over Sebastian and Evangeline before dissipating into the warm glow of the sitting room. His expression remained guarded as he carefully interpreted the results, searching for any signs of enchantments or potions. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture relaxing ever so slightly.

“They’re clear,” Ominis murmured in Anne's direction, his wand lowering at last. “No enchantments, no potions.”

Anne sagged slightly beside him, relief softening her features. “Then… why did you ask us to come?” she asked Sebastian, her voice quieter now but still tinged with confusion.

Her brother exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly now that Ominis was no longer poised for battle. He gestured toward a couple empty chairs. “It’s a long story, but we need your help. Please, sit.”

Anne and Ominis exchanged a glance, their unease lingering but less pronounced. Reluctantly, Anne lowered herself into one of the chairs, her fingers still twitching against her wand as if reluctant to let it go completely. Ominis followed suit, his movements deliberate as he settled into the chair beside her.

Cassian leaned forward, pouring fresh cups of tea and sliding them across the low table toward Ominis and Anne. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if trying to convey that there was no rush, no threat to be wary of. “We understand this is a lot to take in,” he began gently. “But I assure you, you’re among friends here.”

Ominis’s jaw tightened as he turned his head slightly toward Evangeline. “Friends?” he repeated, his tone sharp. “You’ll forgive me if I’m struggling to see how that fits with… everything.”

“They’re not behind what’s been happening, Ominis,” Evangeline said softly, taking her seat again beside Sebastian. “And they’ve been helping us figure out who is... and what to do about it.”

Anne frowned, her hands clutching the steaming teacup as if for comfort. “If it's not the Muldoons... then who is it?” she asked quietly, her gaze darting between Evangeline and Sebastian.

Evangeline exhaled, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Ominis, it’s your father,” she said softly.

The room fell into a thick silence, the weight of her words crashing down like a stone into still water. Ominis froze, his head tilting slightly as if trying to process the statement.

“I wish it weren’t,” Evangeline continued gently. “But everything we’ve uncovered points back to him—the letters, the poison, leaking my heritage, creating the rumors in the Prophet.”

Ominis’s hand tightened around the armrest of his chair, his knuckles turning white. His face was expressionless, his pale eyes staring blankly ahead. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, strained. “You’re certain?”

Percival leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but firm. “Everything we’ve pieced together confirms it,” he said. “Your father’s actions have been deliberate, calculated to disrupt and control. His motives are clear: he’s trying to manipulate the situation for his own ends, using Evangeline—and you—as pawns.”

Evangeline reached out hesitantly, placing her hand gently over Ominis’s. “This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the swirl of emotions in her chest. “None of it is. Whatever he’s done, it doesn’t reflect on you.”

Ominis flinched slightly at her touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the revelation. “I should have seen it coming,” he murmured, his tone thick with regret. “I should have known he wouldn’t just let things be.”

“This is on Noctivus, not you.” Sebastian interjected, his voice firm.

“But that's why we asked you both to come," Evangeline explained. "We need to work together to put an end to this.”

Ominis tilted his head toward her, his expression shifting into one of cautious resolve. “What’s the plan, then?”

Cassian leaned forward, his expression calm but intent. “Traditionally, our family has remained absent from British pure-blood circles and politics. Frankly, we’ve always found them too… power-hungry for our taste."

Benedict nodded, adding, “Muldoons have always been scholars, not politicians or socialites. We’re more interested in protecting knowledge than in playing the power games so many pure-blood families engage in.”

"But… but your family sends its children to attend Durmstrang," Anne countered quietly. "And they only accept pure-bloods."

Cassian’s lips quirked slightly at Anne’s observation, his expression thoughtful. “That’s true,” he admitted, “but not for the reasons you might think. Durmstrang’s pure-blood policies were never the draw for our family. Our reasons were academic.”

Benedict leaned back, nodding in agreement. “Durmstrang allows for the study of magic in its raw, unrestricted forms—things other schools might consider too dangerous or controversial to teach."

Anne absorbed their words carefully, her brow furrowing. “So... your family has stayed out of British magical society to avoid its pure-blood politics. But now you’re saying you’re willing to involve yourselves?”

Cassian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “With Evangeline active in the Ministry and already making a name for herself in British magical circles, it’s time we made our presence known. Not only to support her but to defend our shared family name and values.”

Percival’s expression hardened slightly, his voice steady and resolute. "Indeed. And in doing so, we will show that we cannot, and will not, be manipulated. Noctivus Gaunt’s attempts to drag us into his schemes—using our name to further his agenda—cannot go unchallenged. And we have no problem making a very public statement to that effect.”

Ominis’s voice was tight as he finally spoke, his tone laced with guilt. “If it weren’t for me, Noctivus wouldn’t be involved at all. He wouldn’t have had a reason to target Evangeline.”

Evangeline shook her head firmly. “Ominis, he’s the one choosing to manipulate, to control. You’re not responsible for his actions.”

Ominis closed his eyes for a moment, as though trying to absorb her words, though his brow remained furrowed. “It’s hard not to feel that way,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Everything he’s done has been to maintain his control over me, and now it’s bleeding into your lives.”

Evangeline tightened her grip on Ominis’s hand briefly, a silent gesture of support. “And that’s why we need to confront him together. Not just to stop him but to make it clear that his games won’t work anymore.”

Ominis lifted his head, tilting it slightly toward her. “How?” he asked, his tone carrying both curiosity and caution.

Percival exchanged a glance with his brothers before speaking. “We believe his obsession with controlling you is the key, Ominis… and if we exploit it carefully, it will force his hand.”

Ominis’s brow furrowed. “You think he’ll make a move if I bait him?”

“Exactly,” Benedict said, his voice calm but resolute. “If you appear to be slipping further from his grasp—asserting your independence, moving forward with your life—he won’t be able to resist intervening.”

Anne’s grip tightened on her teacup, her knuckles whitening. “You’re asking him to provoke his father. That’s dangerous.”

“Not without safeguards,” Percival interjected, his tone steady. “The key is to ensure all of you are protected at every step while creating a scenario where Noctivus exposes himself.”

Ominis, who had been quietly listening, crossed his arms. “But how exactly do we do that? He’s not going to just walk into a trap.”

Cassian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “No, but he’ll walk into an opportunity to reassert his control.”

Evangeline leaned forward, her brow furrowed in thought. “So we give him that opportunity. A setting where he can’t resist trying to assert himself.”

Annalise, who had been quietly listening from her seat by the fire, leaned forward, her sharp hazel eyes glinting with intrigue. “What about a social event?” she asked, her voice thoughtful but carrying an edge of excitement. “Surely there’s something coming up that Noctivus and his wife can’t avoid attending.”

Evangeline glanced at Sebastian, who nodded slightly in agreement, before turning back to Annalise. “That… could work,” he agreed.

“The High Season Ball is coming up,” Ominis said, his voice measured but hesitant. His pale eyes gazed into the distance as if picturing the grandeur of the event. “It’s one of the most significant social events of the year. My parents never miss it.”

Anne, still clutching her teacup, glanced at him nervously. “Everyone important will be there. It’s practically designed for prominent pure-blood families to flaunt their influence.”

Cassian leaned forward, his gaze sharp and calculating. “A perfect setting, then. He won’t be able to resist showing face.”

Evangeline frowned, her fingers tightening around the edge of her chair. “But what exactly is the plan once we're there? He’s not just going to walk up to me in the middle of a crowded ballroom.”

“Of course not,” Benedict said, his tone calm. “He’ll send someone. Likely that false representative of our family again. We expose them, and by extension, Noctivus.”

Sebastian leaned back, his arms crossed as he absorbed their words. “You make it sound simple, but Noctivus isn’t stupid. If he suspects a setup, he’ll disappear before we can get close.”

“We’ll need Ominis to misdirect him,” Percival said, his voice steady and confident as he fixed his gaze on Ominis. “Perhaps... you make your father believe that you might be proposing to Miss Sallow. He’ll feel there’s no choice but to intervene.”

The room went still as the weight of Percival’s suggestion sank in. Ominis’s pale eyes widened slightly, his head tilting toward him as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

Benedict leaned forward, his tone reassuring. “Simply... plant the idea in his mind—let him believe that you’re about to formalize your relationship. It would almost certainly provoke him."

“...And what happens when Noctivus takes the bait?” Anne asked quietly, gaze flitting between the Muldoons.

“When his representative approaches Evangeline," Cassian said, gesturing between his family. "We’ll be there to intervene. Force their hand publicly.”

“Publicly,” Ominis repeated, his tone wary. “You mean making a scene at the ball.”

“Yes,” Cassian said simply. "We'll all be in attendance, ready to make a statement nobody can ignore."

Percival leaned forward, his expression serious. “Your father won’t be able to recover from the humiliation. Not with us there to confirm the false representative was acting on his behalf.”

Anne frowned, her gaze fixed on Ominis. “And you’re sure your father will act? That this will be enough to draw him out?”

“...It will,” Ominis said after a long pause, his voice quiet but certain. He straightened slightly, his resolve hardening. “My father has spent my entire life ensuring I toe the line. If he thinks I’m stepping out of his control, he won’t be able to resist.”

“And when Noctivus steps in, we’ll be ready,” Evangeline said firmly.

Annalise hummed. "I've always wanted to attend a British wizarding event," she shot a glance at her father. "Too bad it has to be under such dramatic circumstances."

“At least it’ll be memorable, Annalise," Percival shrugged, exchanging an amused glance with his wife.

Evangeline couldn’t help but chuckle softly, though her thoughts were already racing ahead. She turned to Ominis. “But are you sure about this?” she asked gently. “It’s a lot to ask, especially knowing how he might react. If you’re uncomfortable…”

Ominis exhaled deeply, his pale eyes fixed on nothing as he nodded. “If this is what it takes to end his games and protect everyone, then yes. I’ll do it.”

Anne, still visibly uneasy, reached over and squeezed his hand. “We’ll do it,” she corrected.

Cassian straightened, his gaze sweeping over the group. “Then it’s settled. We’ll work out the finer details over the next few days. It’s going to take precision, but if we play our cards right, this will end with Noctivus exposed and powerless over you four.”

Annalise smirked. “Then I’d say it’s time for a toast!" She reached for her teacup, raising it with a flourish and a sly grin. “To dramatic entrances, scandalous revelations, and bringing down self-righteous schemers. I’d say we have our work cut out for us.”

Percival chuckled, raising his own cup in return. “And to family—new alliances, shared goals, and proving that no one manipulates a Muldoon without consequence.”

Evangeline smiled faintly, reaching for her cup, her fingers brushing against Sebastian’s as he grabbed his own.

The group exchanged looks, the moment imbued with an unexpected yet welcome sense of unity. For all their differences, their backgrounds, and the challenges ahead, they were a team now.

As the conversation and camaraderie faded into a comfortable quiet, Freya, Cassian’s wife, leaned forward in her chair. Her warm smile was accompanied by a glance toward the clock above the mantel. “It’s getting late,” she said gently, her voice tinged with concern. “I know there’s still much to discuss, but it would be better to continue in the morning when we’re all rested.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement, the weight of the evening beginning to settle into his shoulders. Evangeline’s hand rested lightly on his knee, and he could feel her exhaustion as much as his own. Ominis, too, looked pale and drained, and Anne’s fingers had never quite left her teacup, her tension evident even now.

Freya rose gracefully, smoothing her robes as she did so. “You four are not going anywhere tonight,” she announced in a tone that brooked no argument. “Cassian and I have more than enough space here, and it would put my mind at ease knowing you’re all safe under our roof.”

Evangeline's mouth opened and closed. “We wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense,” Freya interjected, waving a dismissive hand. “Our elves will see to it that you’re comfortable. Besides,” she added, her tone softening, “we’re family, aren’t we?”

Evangeline felt a sudden warmth bloom in her chest at the words. The Muldoons might have been a mystery for nearly her entire life, but in this moment, they felt like the family she’d always yearned for.

Freya clapped her hands lightly, summoning two house-elves who appeared with faint pops. “Fetch some pajamas and anything else our guests might need,” she instructed them with practiced ease. “Bring them to the fourth floor guest rooms, please."

The elves bowed deeply before vanishing as swiftly as they’d come. Freya turned to the group, gesturing toward the door. “Come along. I’ll show you to the rooms myself.”

Evangeline rose, her movement mirrored by Sebastian, who lingered close at her side. Ominis and Anne followed suit, their earlier unease replaced with quiet exhaustion. After saying goodnight to the rest of the Muldoons, the four of them they trailed after Freya as she led them up the grand staircase, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpets as she led them through the grand halls of the manor.

The fourth floor was quiet and tastefully decorated, the warm hues of the wood and soft candlelight creating an inviting atmosphere. Freya paused outside a pair of large, intricately carved doors.

“These will be your rooms,” she said, opening one door and gesturing for Anne and Ominis to step inside. The room was spacious yet cozy, with a large four-poster bed draped in rich, dark green linens and an elegant sitting area by the window.

Anne glanced around, her eyes widening slightly. “This is… beautiful,” she said softly.

Ominis tilted his head slightly, his hand brushing against the doorframe as he stepped inside. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Freya smiled warmly. “Of course. If you need anything, just summon one of the house elves using the bell. They’ll be happy to assist.”

She turned to Evangeline and Sebastian, leading them a few doors down to another room. This one was similarly appointed, though the linens were a deep crimson, the warm color lending the room a different kind of charm. The bed was large, and the sitting area by the hearth looked just as inviting.

“I thought you might prefer this room, seeing as you're a Gryffindor” Freya said with a smile. “I’ll leave you two to settle in. The elves will bring up your things shortly.”

“Thank you, Lady Muldoon,” Evangeline said sincerely, her hazel eyes meeting the woman’s.

Freya’s smile softened. “Please, call me Freya. And don't mention it. You’re family, Evangeline.” She inclined her head slightly before retreating down the hall, leaving them to their rest.

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, his gaze sweeping over the room before landing on Evangeline. “Well, this is... certainly not what I expected."

Evangeline hummed softly, shaking her head as she moved toward the sitting area, sinking into one of the chairs. “I... can’t believe how much has happened tonight.”

Sebastian crossed the room, his steps deliberate and quiet as he reached her side. He didn’t sit immediately, instead standing over her for a moment. The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the concern etched into his features.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “This... I can't imagine how much it is for you to take in.”

Evangeline leaned back in the chair, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She stared at the fire for a long moment before meeting his gaze. “It is,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. "I spent most of my life thinking I’d never know anything about my family. And now, in one night, I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible.”

Sebastian crouched down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. His proximity was grounding, his brown eyes steady and unflinching as they searched hers. “And how does that feel?” he asked gently. “Scary? Good? Both?”

Evangeline gave a soft laugh, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Both,” she said honestly. “It’s overwhelming. So much has changed in just the past week. Suddenly I’ve got this family, their support. And…” Her words faltered, but her eyes didn’t leave his. “You.”

Sebastian’s expression softened. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before his hand settled gently against her cheek. “You’ve always had me, Evie,” he murmured, his smile warm and full of quiet pride. “But now you’ve got them, too. And I’m so damn happy for you. They’re finally stepping up to be the kind of family you’ve always deserved.”

His thumb traced a soft line along her cheekbone as he continued, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “And, Merlin, I’m so proud of you. The way you’ve handled all of this—learning about them, piecing everything together, even planning to face Noctivus head-on—you’re handling it better than most people would. Honestly, I’m... I'm amazed at how calm you’ve been.”

Evangeline laughed softly, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and amusement. “Calm? I don’t feel calm, Sebastian. I feel like my head is spinning. One moment, I’m finding out that my mother’s family has a library full of ancient magic secrets, and the next, we’re planning to expose Noctivus Gaunt at one of the biggest social events of the year.”

Sebastian shook his head, his smile returning, laced with quiet affection. “You say that, but you’ve been steady through all of it—asking the right questions, holding your ground, even when it couldn’t have been easy. That’s no small thing.”

Evangeline leaned into his touch, her hand lifting to rest lightly over his where it cupped her cheek. “It’s certainly easier with you here,” she said softly.

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, his gaze softening even further, but before he could speak, a gentle knock at the door interrupted the moment. Evangeline blinked, her focus shifting toward the sound, though her hand remained on his.

“Come in,” Sebastian called.

The door creaked open to reveal a small house-elf, their oversized ears twitching nervously as they stepped inside. In their arms, they carried two neatly folded sets of pajamas, the fabrics clearly of fine quality, though understated.

“Begging your pardon,” the elf squeaked, bowing low, “but Lady Freya asked us to bring these for your comfort.”

Sebastian pushed himself to his feet and offered the elf a nod of gratitude. “Thank you, that's very kind."

The elf shuffled forward, setting the pajamas on a nearby table with great care before straightening again. “If you need anything else, Mr. Sallow, Miss Sterling, just ring the bell by your bed. We’ll come right away,” they said, their voice earnest.

Evangeline smiled warmly, her earlier tension easing slightly. “Thank you. Truly.”

The house-elf gave another low bow before scurrying out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them. For a moment, silence lingered, the interruption breaking the weight of their earlier conversation but not entirely unwelcome.

Sebastian glanced at the folded pajamas, then back at Evangeline, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Well, at least they’re considerate hosts,” he quipped, his teasing tone light but warm.

Evangeline chuckled softly, rising from the chair to inspect the pajamas. She ran her fingers over the fabric, her smile widening. “These are nicer than anything I own,” she said, the humor in her voice tinged with disbelief.

Sebastian’s smirk softened as he stepped closer, his hand lightly brushing down the curve of Evangeline’s back. He leaned in, his lips hovering near her ear as he murmured, “Let's see you in them, then.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though the faint blush rising to her cheeks betrayed her. “Subtle,” she muttered, her tone wry, though she didn't move away.

Sebastian’s hands slipped to rest on her waist. “Subtlety has never been my strong suit,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Now, turn around.”

Evangeline hesitated for only a moment before complying, turning her back to him and letting out a small sigh of relief as his hands began to work at the laces of her corset. His touch was deft but unhurried, his movements steady and careful.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble as he worked. “I’ve got you.”

Her shoulders sagged slightly as his words settled over her, and she allowed herself to lean back just a fraction, trusting his steady hands.

With everything loosened, Sebastian's focus shifted to sliding the corset vest off her shoulders. He folded it carefully, setting it aside before his hands returned to her waist, his touch grounding and unhurried.

"Lift your arms." He instructed gently.

Evangeline obliged, raising her arms slowly as Sebastian's hands slid to the hem of her blouse. With deliberate care, he began to pull it upward. The fabric rustled softly as he lifted it over her head, exposing the smooth curve of her shoulders and the pale expanse of her skin.

Sebastian's gaze roamed her figure briefly with quiet admiration, the flickering firelight casting a soft glow over her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said simply, the words falling from his lips as if they were the most natural thing in the world. His voice carried no pretense, no tease, no expectation—just a sincerity that made Evangeline’s cheeks flush anew.

She ducked her head slightly, a soft laugh escaping her. "Thanks," she mumbled, averting her eyes as Sebastian turned her back around to face him, his hands now moving to the button of her green trousers.

With the waistband loosened, he tugged the fabric down over her hips and legs then crouched slightly, helping her step out of them. His hands brushed lightly against her ankles before Sebastian straightened, setting the trousers aside with the same care he’d shown her blouse and corset.

Evangeline stood before him now, clad in her bra and underwear, the firelight casting warm shadows across her skin. His gaze swept over her, his pupils wide, then he stepped closer, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft and lingering.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured against her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Evangeline gave him a faint smile, her blush deepening as Sebastian’s hands moved to the clasp of her bra, his fingers deftly undoing it with a precision that made her chuckle softly.

The garment slipped from her shoulders, and she caught it in her hands, discarding it to the side before feeling the soft brush of the pajama shirt as Sebastian held it out for her. She slid her arms into the sleeves, and he carefully did up the buttons, the rich fabric settling comfortably against her skin.

“There,” he said, his voice low and satisfied as he adjusted the collar gently. “Now for the bottoms..."

He reached for the matching pajama pants then kneeled down, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Step in,” he said softly, holding them open for her.

Evangeline steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, stepping one foot, then the other into the soft fabric. Sebastian eased the garment up her legs, his hands brushing lightly against her skin as he pulled the waistband into place.

“Now,” he said, standing and brushing off his hands as if to mark the task complete. “You’re officially ready for bed."

Evangeline chuckled and she reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

Sebastian tilted his head, his grin softening into something more earnest. “I like looking after you. Not that you make it easy, mind.”

Evangeline stepped closer, her free hand resting lightly against his chest as her eyes searched his. "I’m lucky."

Sebastian chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Likewise." He let his hand linger on her back for a moment before gently nudging her toward the en suite bathroom. “Now, off you go. Brush your teeth. We need sleep—we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Evangeline turned to look at him, her lips curving into a playful pout. “Only if you wait to change,” she teased, her tone light but daring. “I want a show.”

Sebastian froze for a heartbeat, blinking at her bluntness, before a surprised laugh escaped him. “A show?"

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Fair’s fair.”

Still laughing, Sebastian held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You win. We'll brush our teeth, then I'll be ready for my grand performance.”

Evangeline grinned and turned toward the bathroom, throwing him a sly look over her shoulder as he followed her inside.

They stood side by side, their reflections framed in the mirror as they brushed their teeth with the fresh toothbrushes they found on the counter, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the rustling of their movements.

Evangeline rinsed her mouth and leaned against the counter, watching him as he finished. Sebastian raised a brow, spitting into the sink before rinsing his own mouth. “Can I help you?"

“Oh, just waiting for the performance to start,” she teased, her tone light but with a hint of challenge.

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he dried his hands on a nearby towel. "Alright, let’s see if I can live up to expectations.” He motioned toward the main room with a flourish. “Shall we?”

Evangeline followed him back out, her grin widening as he turned to face her. Sebastian paused, his eyes narrowing as if sizing her up, then tugged off his shirt with deliberate slowness, the motion revealing the defined lines of his chest and shoulders. He tossed the shirt to the side, smirking as he caught her wide-eyed gaze.

“Living up to expectations so far?”

Evangeline tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know,” she said, though the blush rising to her cheeks betrayed her enjoyment. “I think you’ll have to keep going for me to decide.”

Sebastian laughed, a deep, genuine sound, and moved to the waistband of his trousers. He kept his movements slow, exaggeratedly so, as he unbuttoned them and slid them down his legs. When he straightened, clad only in his boxers, he spread his arms in mock presentation. “Well?”

Evangeline leaned back against the edge of the bed, her eyes sweeping over him with no attempt to hide her appreciation. “Not bad,” she admitted with a small smirk. “Though I think I’d need an encore to be absolutely sure.”

Sebastian stepped out of his pants fully, kicking them aside before closing the distance between them with a slow, deliberate stride. The playful smirk on his lips grew as he leaned down slightly, his face just inches from hers.

“If you want to see me naked, Evie,” he teased, his voice low and smooth, “you could just say so.”

Evangeline’s lips parted, but no words came out. She blinked up at him, the blush on her cheeks deepening to a vibrant crimson. Sebastian chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich as he tilted her chin up gently with his fingers. His gaze lingered on her lips for a heartbeat before he leaned in, brushing a brief but firm kiss against them.

The press of his lips left her breathless, her mind reeling as he pulled back, his smirk firmly intact. Sebastian straightened, grabbing the folded pajamas from the table with an air of nonchalance. “But,” he said casually, unfolding the pajama pants and shaking them out, “you’ll have to wait for that.”

Evangeline blinked, her flustered state giving way to a mix of amusement and incredulity. “Excuse me?”

Sebastian shot her a knowing grin as he slid into the pajama pants, the loose fabric settling comfortably around his hips. “We need to sleep, Evie,” he said, his tone light but resolute.

Evangeline balked, her mouth falling open slightly as she stared at him. “You’re just going to leave me hanging?”

Sebastian reveled in her reaction, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “What?” he asked innocently, slipping his arms into the pajama shirt. “I thought I delivered quite the show.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully and took a step closer, reaching out to stop his hands. “The least you can do,” she said, her voice firm but tinged with teasing, “is leave the shirt off. After all, you already made a spectacle of yourself.”

Sebastian raised a brow, his grin widening. “Oh, so you admit it was a spectacle?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she shot back, though the corner of her mouth quirked up into a smile.

With a theatrical sigh, Sebastian let the shirt drop back onto the table. “Fine. But only because I’m such a generous person.” He smirked as he stepped closer, taking her hand and gently pulling her back toward the bed. “Now, come on. You’ve had your fun.”

Evangeline allowed herself to be guided, her earlier flustered state replaced by a warm sense of contentment as he pulled back the covers for her. She slid in, the soft sheets cool against her skin, and watched as Sebastian joined her, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

He settled beside her, one arm draped over her waist as he pulled her close.

“Goodnight, Evie,” Sebastian murmured, his voice soft and steady as his hand gently brushed over her hip. “I love you.”

Evangeline smiled, her fingers curling lightly around his. “Goodnight,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too.”

As the room fell into silence, the steady rhythm of their breathing eventually syncing, Evangeline felt the weight of the day finally lift. For all the chaos and uncertainty ahead, in this moment, she was safe, secure, and deeply loved.

And with that thought, she drifted off to sleep in Sebastian’s arms.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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[crowleysaziraphale2003]

Here is yet another AO3 fic! Aziraphale worries that he's soft, and Crowley reassures him.

Enjoy! 💗

Soft

"Crowley?"

Rain lashed at the windows of Aziraphale's antique bookshop. Crowley, who had been lying down on one of the old sofas across from Aziraphale's chair and secretly watching two raindrops "race" each other, turned away to meet Aziraphale's gaze. It made Aziraphale's corporation act a little funny; his breathing and heartbeat especially. Fleetingly, he wondered if something was wrong with it, before returning his attention to the demon sat opposite.

"Yeah?"

Aziraphale swallowed, fidgeting in his seat. "Do you think that I'm soft?"

Crowley frowned. "Obviously." He searched his face. "You say that like it's a bad thing, angel."

A sigh. "Well," Aziraphale said. "I rather suppose that it is."

Crowley's hand clutched into a fist. He sat up properly, his pupils larger than usual. "Who the Heaven told you that, angel?" he thundered. Aziraphale looked down, fiddling with a button on his coat. "Angel?" he prompted.

"Yes?"

"Who. Was. It?"

Aziraphale looked up at him from where he was sat. "It was Gabriel."

Crowley just stared at him for a second. Aziraphale felt his cheeks heating up. "It was who?"

"It was Gabriel!" Aziraphale admitted, raising his voice.

Crowley growled. "Should have known. When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna-"

"Please don't," Aziraphale said, his voice quiet. He sounded tired, Crowley realised. "He's not worth it."

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not just doing this to protect him?"

"Well, I'm a protector, aren't I?" Aziraphale pointed out, with a smile. "But no."

"Good," Crowley responded. "Are you okay, Aziraphale?"

"Oh yes! Simply tickety boo."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You don't sound okay to me," he said.

Aziraphale offered him a brittle smile. "I will be." His hands were shaking.

Crowley's eyes filled with concern. "Come here," he beckoned gently, standing up. He held his arms out. Aziraphale practically flew into his arms. A matter of seconds later, his shoulders began to shake with sobs.

"I'm sorry," he whispered through the tears.

"Don't be ridiculous. Don't have anything to be sorry for," he replied. Crowley ran a hand through Aziraphale's hair. "Soft inside and out. Soft hair. Soft body. Soft personality."

Aziraphale's sobs grew more frantic. "I know! I'm such a weak angel!"

Crowley pulled him in closer. "Nope. Protectors are warriors. You're strong, Aziraphale. You could be really bloody tough, if you chose to be. But you're not. You choose to be soft, and I love that about you. I love how soft you are."

Aziraphale felt his breath catch in his throat. "You really mean that?"

"Of course," Crowley said. They broke the hug off. Crowley took his thumb and wiped Aziraphale's tears away. His eyes looked even more beautiful than usual, somehow. They hadn't thought it possible.

"Thank you, dear. I didn't realise I could be both soft and strong."

"Well, you can," Crowley shrugged, opting to ignore the fact that the angel had just thanked him for something. "Now, what do you say to some hot chocolate and a relaxed afternoon? You sit down and read, I'll sort it out."

This time, Aziraphale's smile was soft. Wonderfully soft.

"There is nothing I would love more."

[hikariyuushiart]

Elevator Girl and Mr. Hood

Finally, all the deliveries she wanted to make had been completed. The only things left in her red wagon were a few emergency supplies, just in case it took her a bit longer to find the elevator this time around.

With the Apartments constantly changing about, it was always a hassle trying to find her way back. Mr. Crawling had managed to get into the habit of following her until she could find Mr. Hood or the elevator, whichever came first.

But this time, they ran into Mr. Hood first. The cloaked figure wielding an axe stopped just past the doorway ahead of them, glancing up stoically when they approached, but he understood them both to be friendly.

He knew the drill by now: the Elevator Girl was to be escorted to her destination safely.

Why? For no other reason than because she always asked him to.

He never really considered much other reason for what he did. It was almost like an instinct to him. An instinct to protect those who asked for help, and to swiftly deal with hostile threats as soon as possible. And that same instinct remained with him as he and the Elevator Girl eventually parted ways with Mr. Crawling to begin their journey through the labyrinthine structure.

But while he didn't usually care much for the passage of time, he would glance over upon hearing her yawn. That's right; they were still a human.

"Need rest?" he asked, to which the Elevator Girl gave a weak smile and nod.

"Yeah... I think we've been walking for over an hour at this point. It's a good thing time seems to stop while I'm in here, or I'm not sure if I'd ever be able to make a living and keep doing all this..." she rambled a little. Though upon realizing Mr. Hood was unresponsive, she let out a somewhat shy giggle.

"Sorry. I speak my language again. I know you not understand."

His empty hood stared in her direction for a few moments before looking back up ahead.

"...your language. What 'you' name?"

The Elevator Girl blinked, her eyes widening as she quickly realized what he was asking. Was he really wanting to learn her language? She felt it was a bit of a tall order, considering it was much more complicated than this world's language. But... she'd give it a try.

She pointed to Mr. Hood. "You." She pointed to herself. "Me."

Mr. Hood let out something that sounded like a quick exhale. But there was a warmth to it, as if it were released from behind a small smile. Was this perhaps his attempt at a laugh? It was only after she said those two words that she realized that this was exactly how he taught her those specific words to her in the first place, which had her giggling a bit to herself as well.

Her little mini-lesson would continue until they'd come across a door, leading into a small room with a couch, a bed, and a beanbag chair. The Elevator Girl recognized this as a place that she, Mr. Crawling, and Mr. Chopped went to once, and let out a small sigh as she took off her shoes, placing them at the edge of the bed before crawling on top.

"You rest. I sit awake, look for hostile," he assured her, going to take a seat on the sofa, his axe firmly in his shadowy hand.

The Elevator Girl still wasn't completely sure what Mr. Hood's body was comprised of. She knew he seemed to have no solid body under the hood, other than some mysterious 'squishy substance', but she wasn't sure what else to make of him.

But, in the end, all she cared about was that he was a reliable protector, and she couldn't help but smile as she laid down in the bed.

"Thank you. Goodnight."

Mr. Hood was silent for a moment, regarding her in the quiet and peace of the room before giving a light nod in return. "Goodnight."

[l-lend]

a/n - Okay it's been a minute but another one for @clonexreaderbingo. This was a bit of a challenge since I've never written for Wolffe and Plo Koon so any feedback would be great.

Eager eyes watched from her perch on the sofa. Florescent costume jewelry encircled her tiny fingers as she gripped the back of the furniture. Her vigil quietly observed by her parents from the kitchen.

“How long has she been like this?” The clone commander asked.

The woman by his side exhaled an amused breath, “Since I told her you and I were going out.”

She turned to study his face as he regarded their daughter. Commander Wolffe was not the most outwardly expressive man, but with time spent together she had grown adept at discerning his mood. The spark in his left eye, the subtle curl of his lip. He saved his smiles for special occasions.

An amused huff blew from his nose as the child sprang from her post with a delighted squeal.

“He's here!”

With a squeeze of his hand from his lover, Wolffe ventured into the living room while his little one sprinted towards the door.

“He'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shereHe'shere!”

As soon as the front door slid open, the child pounced.

“Uncle Plo!”

The guest in question crouched down to the child's level.

“Hello, little pup.”

The two exchanged a brief hug before the Kel Dor's gaze traveled to lock onto the clone. Plo raised a hand in greeting.

“Apologies, I was kept later than usual.”

“It's no problem,” the woman replied emerging from the kitchen, “Selene's been busy setting up.”

“Uh huh, Mom helped me with the snacks.”

“Oh,” Plo turned his attention back to Selene, “another of your tea parties? I seem to remember Sinker enjoying them.”

Selene nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! Wanna see?”

“I'd love to. If you give me a moment, I'll join you shortly.”

Wolffe's pup shot off. The sound of footfalls echoed down the hall.The adults sat in a moment of silence.

“Thank you for watching her.” Wolffe began.

The jedi's features crinkled, tinged with mirth, “It's no trouble. She's a welcomed break from the galaxy.”

A pair of hands grasped onto the clone's arm before he felt a familiar weight against his shoulder.

“We shouldn't be long.”

“Take all the time you need. However, I need to see about this tea party.”

“Wolffe?”

The commander's thoughts returned to his wife. Her features twisted in concern.

“Sorry, just...”

Her hand folded over his as if to bolster him.

“Work thoughts still going?”

He sighed in hopes of lifting the invisible weight off his chest.

“Selene was almost glad to see us go.”

Her features softened, “She doesn't get to see Plo too often.”

His flat gaze brushed away her attempts to cushion the blow.

“The war was easier, mesh'la. I could handle clankers.”

Her delicate fingers graced the underside of his chin, bringing his face back to her.

“She sees you trying,” She offered a smile, “just give her time.”

The clone commander chewed on her advice through the rest of their outing.

Selene frowned from her place at the head of her plastoid table.

“Something troubling you?”

The child's eyes remained on the brightly colored tea set.

“You've known my daddy a long time.”

The jedi master shifted on the seat he was perched on.

“I have. He and I helped a lot of people.”

“Do you think he likes me?”

Silence the span of a heart beat seemed to stretch for eternity. She fidgeted under his gaze. Plo took a breath as he meticulously picked his words.

“Do you know the name of your father's battalion?”

She nodded, “The wolf pack. There's a picture of a loth-wolf. Daddy has one.” Her fingers tapped her shoulder where a pauldron would sit.

Plo smiled, “You're right. Did he tell you the story about the loth-wolves?”

At the shake of her head, Plo began his tale.

“Loth-wolves are protectors. They scare off anything that would wish them harm, but all the loth-wolves come together to protect someone most precious.”

He glanced at her enraptured expression. Her body leaned forward as if to urge him on.

“One who was brave. She would feed them and care for them, and they vowed to defend her until the end.”

“Who was she?”

Plo tilted his head upward as if to ponder, “Princess Selene of the Cynthus moon.”

Her tiny jaw hit the floor. After a few moments, the child glanced from her plastoid table to a section of shelving that housed a variety of paper.

“Uncle Plo, can you help me with something?”

The commander and his wife soon shuffled in. However, something was amiss as Selene rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Daddy, I got something for you.”

At his piqued curiosity, he noticed both of her hands were hidden behind her back. She pursed her lips before she loosed a roll of her eyes. She was definitely his daughter.

“You gotta close your eyes first.”

A glance to his wife and a reassuring gesture from her, and his eyes slid closed. A ruffle of thick paper met his ears.

“Okay, you can look.”

His eyes immediately met the colorful paper that had seemingly suffered a glitter assault with a drawing that was similar to the artwork that was displayed in their kitchen. Selene held the paper aloft with a grin. The words 'You're Invited' penned in purple as well managed as her little hands could be.

@locitapurplepink, @rain-on-kamino @starrylothcat @writing-positivelyexisting @burningfieldof-clover @padawancat97 @ahsokastechie

[daidi-dragan-glas]

⚜ Fear of Your Parents' Old Age ⚜

"There is a break in the family history, where the ages accumulate and overlap, and the natural order makes no sense: it’s when the child becomes the parent of their parent."

It’s when the father grows older and begins to move as if he were walking through fog. Slowly, slowly, imprecisely.

It’s when one of the parents who once held your hand firmly when you were little no longer wants to be alone.

It’s when the father, once strong and unbeatable, weakens and takes two breaths before rising from his seat.

It’s when the father, who once commanded and ordered, now only sighs, only groans, and searches for where the door and window are—every hallway now feels distant.

It’s when one of the parents, once willing and hardworking, struggles to dress themselves and forgets to take their medication.

And we, as their children, will do nothing but accept that we are responsible for that life.

The life that gave birth to us depends on our life to die in peace.

Every child is the parent of their parent's death. Perhaps the old age of a father or mother is, curiously, the final pregnancy.

Our last lesson. An opportunity to return the care and love they gave us for decades.

And just as we adapted our homes to care for our babies, blocking power outlets and setting up playpens, we will now rearrange the furniture for our parents.

The first transformation happens in the bathroom. We will be the parents of our parents, the ones who now install a grab bar in the shower.

The grab bar is emblematic. The grab bar is symbolic. The grab bar inaugurates the "unsteadiness of the waters."

Because the shower, simple and refreshing, now becomes a storm for the old feet of our protectors.

We cannot leave them for even a moment.

The home of someone who cares for their parents will have grab bars along the walls. And our arms will extend in the form of railings.

Aging is walking while holding onto objects; aging is even climbing stairs without steps. We will be strangers in our own homes. We will observe every detail with fear and unfamiliarity, with doubt and concern.

We will be architects, designers, frustrated engineers. How did we not foresee that our parents would get sick and need us?

We will regret the sofas, the statues, and the spiral staircase. We will regret all the obstacles and the carpet.

Happy is the child who becomes the parent of their parent before their death, and unfortunate is the child who only appears at the funeral and doesn't say goodbye a little each day.

My friend *Joseph Klein accompanied his father until his final moments.

In the hospital, the nurse was maneuvering to move him from the bed to the stretcher, trying to change the sheets when Joe shouted from his seat: Let me help you. He gathered his strength and, for the first time, took his father into his arms. He placed his father's face against his chest.

He cradled his father, consumed by cancer: small, wrinkled, fragile, trembling. He held him for a long time, the time equivalent to his childhood, the time equivalent to his adolescence, a long time, an endless time. By Your Side Nothing Hurts

Rocking his father back and forth. Caressing his father. Calming his father. And he said softly:

⚜ I'm here, I'm here, Dad! "What a father wants to hear at the end of his life is that his child is there."

I love you, Dad, wherever you are, I always think of you, I will never forget you...

Credit goes to the respective owner ~

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

I'm thinking of coming home to the Munson trailer and seeing that Uncle Wayne is already there. There's a lump in your throat, and you approach the sofa easily, taking your place on the seat next to Uncle Wayne. He glances at you over his shoulder, reads you with a long glance down your body and then back up again (you've seen it on Eddie many a time and it warms your heart to see where he got it from), and leans back in his seat. His arm comes up, an invitation, and you take your place without even thinking about it, nuzzling the side of your head against that red and blue flannel you cherish so very much. Neither of you have spoken yet, and before you know it, you're crying. Long and hard, the weight of the world sliding off your shoulders and falling into Uncle Wayne's lap. He shuffles it around, until he can hold his own weight, and Eddie's, and yours, and he does it seamlessly. He's a natural guardian, a protector, a caretaker.

Uncle Wayne takes care of what's his.

"You just get it out, Y/N, just like you are. Ain't good to keep that shit inside. I've seen you fight some demons in my time, and believe you me this is just another of 'em. But you got me and you got my son, so you ain't alone, you hear me?"

You plan to sit there 'til you're not crying anymore but Uncle Wayne doesn't let you go. His hands are warm, his fingers tough and calloused but gentle, his demeanour gruff but well-intentioned, his heart kind but full of anger; he uses that and channels it until it becomes love for his family.

You and Eddie.

Eventually, you're hugging him, and he's cradling you into his side, keeping you tucked up against him. A strong wall for you to lean on, and you do, putting your head above where you can feel his heart, slow and steady. Through the chaos of your life, Uncle Wayne holds firm, and you realise the Munson Doctrine rings true:

Don't panic unless Uncle Wayne does.

If he's not panicking, it'll be okay.💖

You close your eyes with a world-weary sigh and Uncle Wayne huffs. "Me too, kid. Me too." He squeezes you into a hug, and you slip into a light sleep, held by one of your two favourite people in the world.

eddie & wayne @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod @authorlovers @jslittlebirdie @heydreamchild @comfortcharactercraze @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies @m00nlight101 @3ddi3-daydreamer @pleasantlycrazyworld @samlealea @manyfandomsfanvergent @indouloureux  @niceboyeds @becca-alexa @singularattitudeofasafetypin @knifeskiss @loving-and-dreaming @hiscrimsonangel @worlds-turned-upsidedown

[takeariskao3]

Hey Hannah, how would you describe Lily and Ruby’s relationship with James? We know the girls are close but are they close with James or is more of a lone wolf? If you want to write a one shot of this… I wouldn’t mind at all 😉

first of all, i love you for asking me this. second of all, i think like with most sibling relationships it evolves. Lily definitely considers herself james' protector for a time until he grows up enough and starts annoying her. i think once they reach late teens and adulthood though, all three of them are pretty tight knit. having harry potter and ginny weasley as your parents isn't a universal experience so it'd be hard to find other people who could relate to something like that and understand it.

so, more than being siblings, they have unique and shared history they bond over and support each other through <3

and since i am literally incapable of saying no to a next gen oneshot, here ya go:

----

"It's just so unfair!"

Ruby snorted at the whinge in Lily's voice and reached for another spoonful of batter.

"Look at this," Lily grabbed for where Dad sat on the sofa. Placing her hands on either side of his head, she wheeled him around to face the kitchen. "This is what I have to work with!"

Dad shrugged her off with a grimace.

"Hey!" Mum grinned as she pulled a tray of fully baked biscuits from the oven. "I like your dad's hair."

"Me too," Ruby chastised.

Lily's answering scowl was full of impatience. "Easy for you to say! Your hair lies flat!"

Unable to disagree, Ruby finished placing her dough on the sheet and handed it over to Mum.

"It grows in every direction," Lily turned her attention back to the top of Dad's head, pulling his locks side to side and back and forth. Dad staunchly ignored her, continuing to read the paper as if she wasn't even there. "And this bit here, what's the point of it growing upwards on the back?"

Brushing the dough from her hands, Ruby let out a resigned sigh. "Will you stop complaining and come here?"

Lily rolled her eyes, but crossed the room and collapsed into a dining chair anyway. Ruby set to work separating her sister's hair into two sections, and she had to admit it was rather chaotic, especially when left on its own for too long. She didn't dare say this aloud, however, for fear of increasing Lily's already jittery mood.

"Make it tight," Lily instructed as Ruby began to plait. "I don't want it falling out halfway through the night."

Ruby hid her smile behind Lily's back and started all over again.

The smell of fresh out of the oven dessert soon lured James into the kitchen and he took three biscuits off the tray before sitting down at the table. Mum ruffled his hair, so similar to Dad's and Lily's, as she began clearing away the mixing bowl and baking mess.

"Hey, Dad?" Lily asked once Ruby had finished tying off the first braid and began on the second. "Can you take down the wards before they arrive?"

Dad looked up from his paper incredulously.

"Please?" Lily begged in a sing-song voice.

"Absolutely not." Shaking his head, Dad turned back to his Evening Prophet.

"But you have to!" Lily implored. "Otherwise it'll look to them like I'm standing in front of an empty field!"

"Tell them the house is behind the trees," Ruby suggested.

"Or that we live in a commune that doesn't believe in houses," Mum added unhelpfully.

"Or," James chimed in, "Don't go on dates with Muggles in the first place."

The room went deathly quiet, Ruby's fingers stilling in Lily's hair while Mum froze with dish soap and a scrub brush in her hands.

Dad turned slowly in his seat, looking over the four of them in turn and focusing on James last.

"What did you just say?"

James, who seemed to know he'd just blundered horribly, stammered, "I- I- I mean... I was just... What do I know?"

He chuckled uncomfortably, but Ruby could tell Dad didn’t buy it.

Turning to Mum, Dad raised his eyebrows. “She’s going on a date? You said it was a group of kids from the village.”

"It is a group of kids from the village," Mum reassured quickly, but she didn't quite meet Dad's eye. She set the sponge to work with a tap of her wand and finished, "She just so happens to like one of those kids."

"MUM!" Lily roared, her face flushing pink in embarrassment.

James covered his mouth to hold in his laugh; Lily reached around to swat him.

"Hold still!" Ruby ordered, almost losing her grip on Lily's hair.

Dad continued to stare at Mum like he'd just been stupified.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Mum huffed impatiently. "What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect to find out our daughter was going on a date from a nine year old! You're supposed to tell me this kind of stuff."

"It's not a date!" Lily cried, clearly mortified.

"She's fifteen," Mum replied matter-of-factly. "She likes a boy, so what? Should we tell them what we got up to when we were fifteen?"

Ruby, her sister, and her brother all let loose sounds of utter disgust.

"Not like that." Mum waved them off. Dad didn't seem all that cowed by her threat to reveal their teenage years, but eventually he grumbled something that sounded like a swear word and turned to Lily with a serious look on his face.

"You're home by ten," he snapped. Lily breathed out a sigh of relief that was a bit premature, because then Dad added, "And no snogging!"

Ruby and James gagged out more revulsion, while Lily buried her face in her hands and groaned.

[dbeautify2017]

Plush Head and Back Protector

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[stainedpast]

There is no wasting when it comes to them, a part of his life he is unwilling to let go of or sacrifice no matter how big the price of clinging to it is. The RAGE and WRATH of his father included. No; Bogdan has no right to call them names, to ridicule them like that, take joy in lessening what makes them who they are, of a part of their past, present and future, a part of their identity. ❝ No! ❞ Have they ever seen him this angry? This hurt? His voice coarse, almost growling in the way he lets out his disagreement. ❝ He should know better! ❞ True; had the tables been turned, had it been Bogdan’s wife being talked about in such a humiliating way, HELL would have been let loose on earth; they know better than to attack a partner, a loved one without the expectation of consequences, no matter how HARSH, how UGLY and out of line for their act was too.

The words of their past almost soften him, but the protectiveness in his chest surfaces, more ANGER seeping on top of anger. Maybe there is wisdom in the way life has deprived him of sharing his parents, never having a brother or a sister; he would have been like FIRE, engulfing whatever on its path had they been mistreated, even if by their own family, by his parents. He wishes their father was right here in front of him so he can land a fist to the face of such CRUELTY and UGLINESS. He contains his anger, the need to break something, a hand brushing back the strands of hair on his forehead as he sits on the edge of the sofa, dirtying it with blood and maybe fragments of broken glass. ❝ You were protecting Harv.. ❞ It almost sounds sad, the way he lets it settle into the air, realization of how much Two Face has went through only to be perceived as a threat, as a calamity, when all they are is the SHIELD that took the assaults and damage, the SWORD that wavered and struck those who dared to touch a hair on their other half. Still does despite the cuts and scars of every battle, always there, a PROTECTOR.

His hand, soft despite the blood on it both from the lives he has taken and for the literal presence when he broke the mirror a moment ago in anger and frustration, reaches for theirs, fingers barely holding onto theirs with a little pull as if to encourage them to join him onto the seat, his head dipped a little, gaze onto the ground below. ❝ I’m sorry he can be a dick.. ❞ As he is sorry for everything they have been through despite it not being his own doing but the INEQUALITY of the world. Oh how this ordeal brings back memories, both pleasant and menacing. The arguments he once had for the choices he has made in life, his profession, not showing the world the PRIDE of being part of Netto mafia family, only doing so under the shadows. Not the life his father has either imagined nor wished for him to have, no, they wanted him to be a successor in the eyes of the public too, but they sufficed with his discrete loyalty; the know he would never turn his back on his family even if it meant DEATH.

@halfdent : “ don’t waste yer breath , Leo , ‘specifically when yer pops is concerned . Know a thing or two ‘bout disrespectin’ the old man , where that gets ya . Nothin’ we ain’t heard before . Our own pops thought little runt Harv was possessed . Calls me an omen . Got us an exorcist one time when playin’ Babe Ruth on our stomach didn’t do the trick in snuffin’ me out .”

A nod to himself , not that Harvey was listening. The goody toe shoes always got off easy on the traumatic memory front .

“ likes I says ; nothin’ we ain’t heard before .”

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 26 Part 1

(Ch. 25) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: Just a girl stretching her wings.

WARNINGS: The usual espionage stuff, Lewis Nixon's functional alcoholism lol

A/N: Sorry y'all, Ik it's been a hot minute!! I've been Going Thru It™ again lol, as one does, but I'm back again momentarily! We'll see how long this lasts

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @indigo-luvers @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu

Contemporary: December 1st, 1944. Resistance Safehouse, Signy-l’Abbaye, France.

Alix was always uneasy when it stormed but especially at night.

The downpour battering the rooftop overhead, the howling wind and deafening thunder, the pattering droplets pelting the tree leaves outside in the darkness, all of it was to the enemy's advantage. 

It could mask the sound of approaching footsteps, swallow the screams of any victim, even disguise gunshots.

If an attack was coming, it was bound to come during a storm.

So naturally, when she thought she heard a rattling coming from the back door, Alix stopped her pacing and dropped into a crouch, her usual dagger in one hand and a throwing knife in the other as she crept behind a small, sturdy end table and waited.

The moment the door creaked open, the spy sprung from her hiding place as her training kicked in. Forcing the intruder to the nearest wall, a knife pressed against his throat before he could blink, Alix was about to remove his hood with her other hand just as he spoke with a voice still somehow as languid and droll as a Sunday morning:

"Oh good, you're still sharp."

The OSS assassin instantly took a step back and sheathed her knife.

"Goddammit, Nix," she groaned, releasing a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding.

"You scared me half to death. How’s Joe doing?” 

“Well hello to you too,” her case officer deadpanned as he tossed back his hood and began to unbutton his coat, clearly somewhat miffed.

"Don't worry, I'm fine, you only almost skewered me is all." 

“Yeah, sorry about that," Alix commented over her shoulder as she checked the door lock. "Anyway, how are my boys? How's Joe and Skip and-"

But turning around, she was in an empty room again. With a roll of her eyes, the spy weaved her way back from the hall and into the living room where Captain Nixon was making himself comfortable--albeit dramatically-- in his usual armchair, a thick folder in his hands. 

"So, what's the dope?" Alix piped up brightly and her handler barked out a laugh. 

"Well Liebgott seems to've designated himself protector of the pack, by the look of things. Wherever they go, he goes too. I don’t know if you asked him to do that or…?” 

“I didn’t,” Alix replied as she struggled to wrap her head around why Joe would even bother. 

“Well regardless, I come bearing gifts," he announced, leaning forward to plop the folder onto the coffee table, sending a cloud of dust billowing towards the ceiling. 

“If that's another after-action report, vaffanculo," Alix remarked, taking a seat on the sofa across from him.

"I've already typed up at least ten of them for you today, Nix, and my hands are cramping. You want it done, do it yourself." 

"Oh c’mon, relax," Nixon scoffed, taking a swig from his flask and lowering his voice to an exaggerated stage-whisper dripping with sarcasm. 

“What is it, Runt, ‘that time of the month’ or something?”

 

“Just finished actually, not that you care,” Alix bit back and her handler visibly recoiled. 

“Didn’t need to know that,” the thirty-something replied, making a face reminiscent of Gio's when the family doctor had given him castor oil for his stomach troubles.

He'd looked about as green in the gills as the Captain did now and Alix rolled her eyes with a snicker.

Men could be so juvenile. 

“Then don’t ask, Nix."

“Well it’s not another AAR, alright,” Nixon said airily with a lazy, one-handed mock-bow.

“So you’re welcome.” 

“I don’t recall ever receiving a Thank-You for typing all your shit in the first place," Alix pointed out, stretching her legs lazily as she lounged on the couch. 

“Well–" 

He took another long gulp of his whiskey before continuing,

"You see, Runt, the great thing about being an authority figure is--"

"Yeah, yeah, get your kicks," the spy remarked with a roll of her eyes before cutting straight to the point, leaning forward in her cushioned seat so she could better scrutinize her handler.

"So level with me, Nix: Why're you here? You wouldn't be bringing me a folder that big for no reason and if it's not AAR's...?" 

Alix trailed off, some of her long raven tresses escaping from her ponytail as she shook her head.

Gesturing with his flask and sending small droplets of whiskey sloshing onto the moth-eaten throw rug, Captain Nixon motioned wordlessly for her to open the folder.

Obliging, Alix neatly lifted the folder's cover and was momentarily stunned. 

Inside was a mountain of paperwork, topped by a red passport with Cyrillic lettering embossed on the front of it, a permanent propiska or residency permit from Moscow as well as additional travel papers. 

"So," Nixon asked, barely containing a satisfied chuckle like a proud parent watching their child open Christmas presents.

"How's your Russian sounding, Runt?" 

"Probably better than yours," Alix quipped easily as she lit up a cigarette, still waiting for Nixon to elaborate. 

Her case officer cracked a grin at her joke. 

“Good because you’re going to need it. You've got an assignment."

"In Russia?" Alix was aghast and instantly dropped the folder back onto the coffee table as though it was a hot coal but Nixon barked out another laugh. 

"Not unless you have a death wish."

With that, he took another swig of his whiskey before continuing amiably, 

"No, your newest assignment is going to be much closer to home. How does Paris sound?" 

"Paris?! That's swell!" Alix whooped, swinging her legs off the shoddy sofa and sending her book clattering to the floor in her elation.

"Thought you might like that," Nixon chuckled. "You've read up on Major Kieffer, right?" 

Alix cocked an eyebrow. 

"You mean Hans Josef Kieffer? The head of the Parisian Sicher…Sicher…"

"Sicherheitsdienst," Nixon added helpfully. 

Alix took a grateful stab in the air with her cigarette and replied, "Yeah exactly, that.”

"Looks like somebody read the notes after all," her case officer snarked and the spy rolled her eyes bemusedly. 

"Oh don't act so shocked," she scolded with an expression of mock-reproach. 

"I do pay attention when I type, you know." 

"Could've fooled me" was the sardonic reply and Alix hurled one of the deflated-looking throw pillows at his head, which the older intelligence officer batted away with his free hand. 

Alix took a drag of her cigarette, speaking on the exhale and letting the smoke dissipate with her words. 

"So you going to fill me in on the op, Nix, or do I have to do everything myself?" 

Now it was Nixon's turn to roll his eyes. 

"You can read, can't you?" he remarked dryly but Alix crossed her arms doggedly. 

"You know as well as I do that nothing important goes on paper, Nix." 

"You got that from me, you little shit," he grumbled, taking a final drink before screwing the cap of his flask shut with a slight rattle, muttering something about using his own words against him.

Once the dark-haired man had retrieved a handful of caramels from his rations to snack on, the time had finally come to divulge much-needed information.

"Alright, so here’s the dope," he began, popping a candy in his mouth before steepling his fingers like one of her mother’s gossipy friends at tea.

"Kieffer's birthday is in 3 days and being a public official, it's kind of a big deal so his cronies are throwing him some glitzy gala or whatever to celebrate, some sort of masquerade shindig, you know the type."

The captain took a brief pause to gnaw through his second caramel before continuing,

"By the sound of it, it’s going to be a real Who’s Who of upper-crust Krauts so of course Donovan being Donovan, he got you– Well, ‘Tanya’– an invitation.” 

Crumpling up the wrappers in his fist, Nixon gestured vaguely, 

"You put on a mask, you dance, you take out some Krauts on the fringes while no one's looking, conduct an interrogation or two...Piece of cake, really."

Alix narrowed her eyes, her mind racing with suspicion. This sounded too easy. 

“So what’s the catch?" she burst out. There's always a catch." 

"See, this is why I wanted you to just read through the folder," Nixon remarked through a mouthful of his third caramel block.

"If I wanted the third degree, I'd go back to HQ."

"Stop stalling," Alix pressed, beginning to bounce her knee with such anxious vigor that she could hear the floorboards creaking their complaints. "What's the bad news?" 

"You can read about it later," her case officer replied cryptically as he finished chewing.

"The Gestapo have an APB out for you so the first order of business is disguise. Everybody-- and I mean Everybody from the SD to the Milice-- is looking for you. Krauts are sick of you flitting away."

He lit up a cigarette, the worry lines creasing his forehead making him appear almost twice his actual age.

"One million Francs to the man, woman, or child apparently, who brings in Der Schwarze Schmetterling– The Black Butterfly." 

The Gestapo wanted her badly enough to give her a nickname? 

Alix wasn't sure whether to be flattered or horrified. 

“And with Le Fantôme making it his personal mission to hunt you down, your cover needs to be rock-solid. No one’s ever seen him face-to-face but he's still somehow gotten hundreds of Allied agents arrested!"

“Then how do we even know he exists?” the spy retorted skeptically. “Sounds like agitprop to me.” 

“Guy's all over Kraut radio. Unfortunately, he’s very real–" 

Her case officer took a strong puff of his cigarette as though attempting to summon some strength from the smoke. 

“And he’ll be at Kieffer’s birthday shindig somewhere, you can bet on it."

"Well, that's just great." Alix remarked facetiously. "Eight different agents in the program and they chose the one with the bounty on her head to go in solo. This oughta be a real cakewalk." 

"Hey!” Her case officer's voice rose with indignation and he sat forward immediately, brotherly concern written all over his face. 

“Who said anything about you going in alone? You really think I'd abandon you in a goddamn pit of vipers?"  

"Maybe I'm a discard" was Alix's automatic reply but the unexpected scrunching of his brows instantly made her regret it. 

“Well you’re not," her case officer snapped, hands gripping the chair’s arms, but Alix could still detect the faint pang of hurt in his tone at her mistrust. 

After all, Captain Nixon had visited her weekly. 

He had kept her updated on the outside world, brought her playing cards from Don so they could play Go Fish and even broke up the monotony by bringing her newspapers when he could grab one.

Even typing his AAR's, she realized, had its purpose: to keep her busy and in the know.

Yes, he'd made a joke out of the task, his perpetual smugness never wavering, but it had a purpose after all.

He had been playing a role, helping her to stay informed without even realizing it, through the guise of simply being too lazy to do it himself.

She must have grown on him some after all.

Alix knew she should probably apologize for doubting him but the memory of him scaring her half to death earlier quickly changed her mind.

No, fuck that, she thought wryly. It'd be a cold day in Hell before she'd apologize to Lewis Nixon.

"So who's my partner?" she asked instead.

"Fresh meat," was the dismissive reply as he reached for the folder. "Now--"

He began rifling through its contents, the rumbling undercurrent of laughter in his voice telling her that her doubts were water under the bridge.

"--if you're done being a pain in my ass--"

Without even a second's hesitation, he plucked a packet from near the bottom of the stack and tossed it over for her to catch before sitting back in his chair with his usual cryptic smirk.

"-- We can get down to business.” 

[fionafelicia]

Protector.

Today, I have a dream about Leedo. In my dream, i walked in living room, saw Leedo on sofa, reading newspaper. He wear white t-shirt, black tracksuit, his long hair been tie up. I look the porch, I see the SUV's door on passenger site are slightly open, I tell him that I want to check on it.

I open the door, and see a few candy wrappers and tissues on floor. I pick up the trash and sit on passenger seat. Suddenly I feel the suv been pushed forward, it like someone pushing your back. And then, the second and third push become aggressive, almost crash the wall. I got panic and quickly pulled hand break. Leedo rushing to me, he doesn't say anything, I stare at him and say " scare" . He hug me and ask me " Are you feel afraid?" I just nod my head while hugging his body, not realise that my body shivering. I feel my lips on his neck, his skin soft, moist and also warm. He take me inside house, I see Hwan Woong, Keonhee and Xion at living room. They ask some questions and Leedo explain to them.

Ravn and Seoho check the SUV and not found anything. But Ravn want send to workshop for technical issues.

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