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wastelandmoony · 9 months ago

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Déjà Vécu

Chapter Thirty-One : End of Beginning

Summary: Last school chapter =) Enjoy any happiness while you can.

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI

A/N: Having a rough time mentally, so I'm not going to beat myself up about my less-than-thrilled feelings about this chapter. I've begun writing post-war chapters, and I'm excited to be transitioning out of Hogwarts. Also, if you've messaged me recently about being on a taglist, I answered everyone privately and have realized I can't go back and get your handles. So please message me again and I'll add it =)

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September 1st, 1977

“My little witch is all grown up!” Tears streamed down her mother’s face as they entered Platform 9 3/4. The entire drive to King’s Cross, the crushing reality of this final train ride to Hogwarts began to sink in.

This was it. The chapter was coming to a close.

She hugged her parents tightly, which she tried to do as much as possible nowadays. The news was getting bleaker and bleaker, the Daily Prophet trying to sweep as much of it under the rug as they could. Those that dared print any iota of the truth usually ended up disappearing, the whisperings of such occurrences becoming more frequent. Luckily, James’ parents had begun to include him in more of their discussions, leading to the rest of them hearing the truth in great detail. He’d written her in mid-august, after Sirius had arrived back at Potter manor, to give an update on the efforts being port forth by people like his parents. He also implored her to find out who Sirius’ suspected new girlfriend was, disclosing that their friend had been acting “slightly less insane and kept sneaking off to send owls”. She didn’t respond, just laughed and mentioned it to Sirius in her next letter. They’d agreed to not address their relationship with the others just yet, waiting to put it off until the school year and live for a few more weeks amongst their own little secret. There were no titles spoken of, no boyfriend or girlfriend, partner or lover; they were just…together. Sirius was hers, and she was his; and that was enough for them both.

James appeared on the train platform first, unruly hair catching her eye before his enthusiastic wave. Following quickly behind was Peter, who looked distant and preoccupied, and finally Sirius, who smiled broadly when he caught sight of who James was staring at. Racing towards them, she launched into Sirius’ arms as he tossed his bags to the ground. Cradling her face, he kissed her earnestly. From beside them, Peter openly groaned.

“It’s about bloody time!” James sighed loudly, the smile evident in his voice. Sirius gave his best friend a rude gesture, never breaking the kiss in the process.

“Oh no, are we going to have to deal with this for the foreseeable future?” Remus had walked up behind them, the sound of his voice had her pulling away with a slight grin.

“Hi Moony, sorry I didn’t write much,” she hugged him in greeting.

He squeezed her, “It’s alright, you were obviously occupied.”

She pinched him, leading to a sly smirk from Remus. He kissed the top of her head, “I’m happy for you, love,” he whispered into her ear.

Sirius threw a leather-clad arm around her shoulders, motioning towards the train, “Alright then, Head Boy, lead the way.”

She followed his gaze to James, “What?! Jamie!”

He blushed at the attention, “Oh, uh, yeah…Lily’s made Head Girl too actually.”

“That’s an extremely unsurprising, yet serendipitous decision,” she laughed, “Congratulations, you deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s a proper arsehole now—ow!” Sirius cradled his side where she’d elbowed him.

James smiled fondly at her, picking up his trunk and leading them all onto the Hogwarts Express one last time.

———

November 5th, 1977

She’d never been this drunk at a party before. The entire Gryffindor Common Room was a blur of scarlet and and gold, bodies packed tight while the Clash played loudly through the speakers. Sirius had wanted an all out banger for his final birthday at Hogwarts, inviting essentially any warm body (and a few ghosts) to the tower for a night “full of debauchery” as he had put it to anyone that would listen. Earlier in the afternoon she had given him his present, a new album from the Sex Pistols. Sirius had hearts in his eyes listening to the opening song, only pulling himself away to lock the dormitory door and kiss his way across her body. They had spent the rest of the afternoon tangled in each other, with only the sound of Pretty Vacant on repeat to muffle their unholy noises from the rest of the residents of the tower.

At midnight, Lily brought out the birthday cake with the help of James, the two of them getting the entire tower to sing along while Sirius sat against the arm of the couch beaming. He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, holding tight as he waited to blow out his candles. After making a little show of pretending to “think” about his wish, he finally extinguished them, planting a gentle kiss to her shoulder in the process.

“What’d you wish for?” She asked, turning around to face him once everyone had gone back to dancing, or drinking, or doing…whatever it was they were doing.

Sirius nuzzled against her neck, “You know precisely what I wished for, love.”

She hummed, skimming a hand down his spine, “…only if you’re a good boy tonight.”

He looked up at her with heavy lids, from the firewhisky or lust or both, she wasn’t quite sure. Distracted by his gaze, she let out a surprised gasp as his hand snaked its way around to grab her backside obscenely.

“Bad dog…” she purred, kissing him once as he tried to wander his hands further. “I’m going to go get some air, it’s too hot in here.” One last soft kiss, and she wiggled out of his grasp just as James and Remus came over to ask him to settle an apparently desperate argument having to do with quidditch.

The corridor outside of the common room was chilly in the most delicious way, and she practically moaned with relief as the portrait swung shut. She inhaled deeply and sighed. The floor felt like it was spinning a little bit. She should probably sit down or something.

She opened her eyes and saw a friendly face leaning against the window, a bottle of firewhisky in his hand.

“Hey Pete,” she smiled, joining him against the wall. He didn’t return the warm welcome, just hummed in acknowledgement. “You alright?” She dragged her eyes over his face, something was up, he never acted so cold with her. A look down at the bottle pointed to him being completely off his face.

Peter shifted on his feet, “I’m fine. Just…relaxing.”

“I was wondering where you’d gone off to, I didn’t see you when we sang to Sirius,” even in her drunken state she sensed his tense energy and tried to keep the conversation light.

“Oh yeah?” He said almost sarcastically, “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

She shook her head slightly and let out a laugh, “What’re you talking about, Pete? Of course I’d notice if you—“

“How long have I been gone then?” He asked a little too aggressively for her liking.

“I…I don’t know Peter, I’ve been drinking and—“

“Yeah, I know. I also know that your favorite drink is firewhisky mixed with cider, you’ve had four of them already tonight. You only dance to Abba, but you’ll always keep time with your foot to every song you hear. You absolutely loathe potions, but you always light up whenever you figure out the best way to combine ingredients. Your favorite color is orange, but not like pumpkin orange; bold and dramatic like a sunset. You always scrunch your nose before a bludger hit. Your deepest fear is failure, and you still hate the fact that you were put in Hufflepuff even though you pretend you don’t.”

She stared at her friend, completely at a loss for any words as he continued on his tirade.

“I know that you talk to Remus somehow through that book you always carry.”

“How do you—“ her heart beat faster, the only other person to know about that was Sirius.

“I also know you’ve been sneaking into our dormitory for over a year to sleep in Sirius’ bed.” His tone bordered on accusatory. She continued to stare, dumbfounded by all of it.

“Don’t tell me that you notice me,” Pete held her gaze steady for someone that had a half-empty bottle of whisky in his hand, “Because I would know a thing or two about noticing people.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, voice cracking slightly. The corridor had stopped tilting, but the air was heavy with discomfort as she gathered her bearings.

Peter took a step closer towards her, “I’m sorry?”

She cleared her throat, “I said you’re wrong. My biggest fear isn’t failure.”

Peter’s laugh was on the verge of bitterness, “Yeah? What is it then, Sirius breaking up with you when he finally gets bored?”

Oh.

Ouch. Is this what it felt like to be stabbed? She was pretty sure he had just jammed a serrated knife into her abdomen.

“No, Peter,” she spat, curling her fists to avoid him seeing her shaking hands, “My biggest fear is losing the people I love, which includes you, believe it or not.”

Before she could move, Peter grabbed her face and kissed her. She froze for a moment, too drunk to fully comprehend what in the actual fuck was going on. Carefully, she grabbed both of his hands and pushed him back gently. “Peter—“

“What the fuck are you playing at, Pete?”

Sirius was standing in the open portrait entrance, eyes narrowed on his friend, full of rage and betrayal.

“Sirius it’s fine, just a misunderstanding—“ she started, as he ignored her to push Peter against the wall.

“Stop!” She stood between them, taking Sirius’ face between her palms. “Look at me, Siri.”

Reluctantly, his blue eyes slid to her, “We’re all shit-faced. Let’s go upstairs and go to bed. Everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want him to touch you. I don’t want anyone to touch you,” she could hear the anger in his voice, the same kind she had heard last year in the forest. The same sadness and fear was present too, just beneath the surface. Unsure of what to say, she kissed him.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch me, Sirius,” she said against his lips, “I love you.”

He stopped and stared at her through heavy lids, mouth still centimeters from hers.

“Say that again.”

“I love you?”

He kissed her softly, “again.”

“I love you.”

He picked her up and she began to laugh, carrying her back toward the common room.

“I’m going to make you scream it so loud the entire tower hears,” he growled into her ear.

As the portrait swung shut, she noticed that Peter had disappeared, and the corridor was empty, save for a half empty whisky bottle.

———

December 23, 1977

As a collective, they had decided to remain at Hogwarts for the winter holidays, to be together one last time in the place they all called home. All of them, except for Peter.

She had tried to convince him to stay, even going as far as to bribe him with promises to complete the rest of his essays for the year. He had declined every offer. His reasoning allegedly that his parents were going through a tough time, and they wanted to be together for the holidays. She couldn’t argue with that, not when she’d do the same for her family. The feeling was bittersweet as she hugged her friend goodbye on the last day of term, the promises of fun and mischief on the horizon for the next week shadowed by the fractured dynamic now that they’d be missing one piece of the puzzle. They hadn’t spoken about the night of Sirius’ birthday party, the three of them choosing instead to chalk it up to drunken stupidity and sweep it under the rug. But she hadn’t forgotten the way he had spoken to her, how his eyes held such despair and pain. None of it was normal, not for Pete, who was usually quiet and sweet and always made her smile no matter what. Something was going on, she just needed to do some digging.

Pete squeezed her hand once before leaving for the carriage ride over to Hogsmeade station, offering a small reassuring smile before disappearing from the Great Hall that morning. Sirius pulled her onto his lap at the breakfast table, her eyes still focused on Peter exiting the main doors, “Stop worrying,” he murmured into a kiss on her temple.

“I’m not,” she lied.

He gently grabbed her chin to turn towards him, “You’re getting that little crease between your eyebrows, don’t lie to me, Yellowjacket.” She shot him an annoyed glare, trying to not break into a smile.

“So what’s the plan?” Mary leaned forward to look expectantly at the rest of them down the table.

James beamed, “Whatever we want, the castle is ours.”

———

Apparently “whatever we want” meant different things to each person involved.

James and Lily snuck away to ‘explore the grounds’ (which they all knew was code for feeling each other up in the Prefects bathroom); Mary had turned the Common Room into her own personal nightclub, blasting music and dancing around atop the furniture while Marlene and Dorcas played games on the rug by the fire; Remus and her had decided to spend a relaxing afternoon in the library reading, much to Sirius’ annoyance. He had wanted to start a pick-up game of quidditch now that the pitch would be guaranteed empty, but ended up grabbing his broom and heading out solo.

Madam Pince scowled when Remus and her entered the deserted library, angry that her solitary literary oasis was now tainted by their smiling faces. Making a beeline for their preferred table in the corner of the second floor, she pulled out a few books and settled in across from Remus for a marathon reading session with her best friend, even sneaking in snacks from the kitchens so they wouldn’t have to leave for sustenance.

Hours passed, and she had become so engrossed in the book that she didn’t hear someone creeping up behind her.

“Christ—“ she jumped as Sirius pressed a kiss to her temple. Remus let out a low chuckle from across the table, having clearly seen his friend sneak up and chose to not warn her ahead of time.

She shook her head, “You both are pricks…”

“You love us though,” Sirius wrapped both arms around her shoulders and leaned closer to her ear, “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

Shutting the book and setting it on the table, she got up and followed him through the tall shelves towards the back of the library. The sections they began to pass became dustier and older, the light even beginning to fade the further they traveled.

“Siri, where are we going?” She whispered. He reached back and grabbed her hand, tugging her behind one of the shelves, kissing her deeply.

“Pince is going to catch us,” she said in between breaths, hands tangling in his dark hair.

Sirius smiled against her lips, “That’s half the fun.”

She was eternally grateful at the decision to wear a skirt that day, even more so that Sirius had the wherewithal to preemptively place a hand over her mouth before bending her over an ancient wooden desk. By the time they made their way back to where Remus was still sitting, the sun had set and she could already feel bruises forming on her hips.

———

The rest of the break was precisely what she wanted: a whole bunch of doing nothing. Just waking up and leisurely spending time with her best friends. Late one night close to the start of term, they were all strewn about the Gryffindor Common Room; some of them asleep in armchairs or on the floor, the rest just lounging and listening to music comfortably. She laid against Sirius sprawled on the couch, back pressed tightly to his chest as he ran a hand up and down her arm.

“What happens when it’s over?” She spoke softly, Sirius’ hand stilling against her skin.

“When what’s over, love?” The rumble of his voice vibrated against her bones.

“This…Hogwarts. What happens when we’re not together anymore?”

James smiled sadly at her from the armchair across the room, Lily tucked into his side as she slept. “We were uh…actually talking about getting a place together after school,” he looked down at the sleeping redhead lovingly.

“Jamie, that’s amazing,” she grinned at him from across the room. Though she was happy for her friends, a large part of her wanted nothing more than to stay this way forever, never going off and living separately and only seeing each other sporadically; as selfish and unpractical as that sounded.

“What about us?” Sirius muttered into her ear, resuming the comforting brush of his knuckles. She hummed up at him in question.

“We can get an apartment, maybe in London?” His blue eyes sparkled in the light of the fire. She sat up and looked at him properly, “Really? You’d want that?” Sirius nodded firmly.

“What if we went in on it together?” Her eyes tracked to Remus, sitting on the rug by the fireplace.

He gave her a sidelong glance, “I’m not going to be the third-wheel in that house, not with you two shaggin’ on every surface.”

She held out a hand towards him, wiggling her fingers dramatically, “Oh come on, Moony! You know I can’t live without you!”

Sirius chimed in beside her, “Yeah Moons, I promise we’ll only have sex in the kitchen once a month.” She elbowed him in the ribs.

“We can ask Pete too! It’ll be great, and James and Lily can come over for Sunday dinners,” she stared at her best friend hopefully, watching as his glare slowly melted into a reluctant smile.

“Fine, but only because I can’t live without you either…and I get first call on a bedroom.”

“Deal,” she smiled broadly, falling back against Sirius’ chest again, “We can start looking the week we get home from final term.”

———

January 28th, 1978

“The Order of the Phoenix,” James said proudly, standing in the center of the boys dormitory. The rest of them were lounging around the room on various beds, having chosen to use their room for this particular meeting that James had frantically called.

“James, I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?” She was trying to focus, but Remus was currently across the room sending her crude doodles in their shared sketchbook, trying to make her laugh. Sirius leaned over her shoulder to see, swiftly snatching the book and scrawling something particularly heinous (due to Remus’ immediate grimace upon receiving it).

“It’s a secret society that my parents are a part of, The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore started it a few years ago. There’s a bunch of members throughout Great Britain, and some abroad as well I think,” James’ eyes were glittering with excitement.

“A secret society? That’s like something from James Bond,” Mary raised her eyebrows from her spot on Peter’s bed. James gave her a puzzled look.

“Who’s James Bond?” Sirius cautiously muttered, afraid to ridiculed by the multiple muggleborns in the room.

She turned around to pat his cheek patronizingly, “It doesn’t matter darling.” He scowled at her sarcasm while Remus chuckled from his own bed.

“Anyway,” James continued, “they’re actively fighting against Voldemort and his supporters, doing reconnaissance and other shit to try and find out their next move, and stop them every chance they get.”

From behind her, Sirius sat up straighter, clearly intrigued at the notion of being on the front lines. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispered back at him.

He huffed an incredulously breath, “I’m going to join, you can’t possibly stop me.”

“I’d prefer to not have you in danger—“

“—there are people dying!”

“Don’t you think I understand that?” Her voice had raised too loud, the rest of the room falling silent as she stared at Sirius, “I can’t risk losing you, any of you…” she looked around the room at her friends. Lily met her eyes, the normal shade of emerald green dark and sad.

James spoke up first, “I uh…I’m already involved…”

Her heart stopped beating. “Jamie—“

“It’s not official or anything, I still have to swear an oath or whatever and my parents won’t let me do that until after we’re done school. But I’m allowed to be at the meetings, and my parents tell me more information…”

She shook her head in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell us?” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, at the same time she felt Sirius shift on the bed behind her. It was Remus’ nervous throat clearing that tipped her off to the betrayal though.

“You all knew…didn’t you? The four of you?” Her eyes shot between Peter, James, Sirius, and Remus. None of which dared look back. “You all planned on joining…”

Sirius made the mistake of reaching for her arm, “Love—“

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she got up off the bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She was halfway down the main corridor by the time Sirius caught up, grabbing her arm in protest.

“Leave me alone,” trying to wrench out of his grasp was futile, he was much stronger than her. He pulled her towards him, gripping her arms tightly as she looked everywhere except for his face.

“Please…” she mumbled.

“Look at me,” he tone was stern, eliciting an immediate reaction from her. When she met his eyes, they didn’t match his voice, instead they were soft and patient. “Talk to me, love. Why are you so upset?”

“You hid this from me! You all did!” She felt insane. From the betrayal by her friends, to the outburst she had in the bedroom, she felt like she was losing her mind a little bit. It’d been years since she’d felt insecure in her friendship with the boys, about feeling any bit left out or that she wasn’t wanted.

Sirius didn’t buy her excuse, “What’s the real problem, though?”

They stared at each other for a beat, his eyes searching hers for the truth. After a deep breath, she let her shoulders drop, “I’m afraid…”

“Of what, love?”

“…of losing any of you. This makes it more real.”

Sirius clicked his tongue, pulling her into a tight hug, “Nothing’s going to happen, we haven’t even officially joined yet. Even so, just because we’re part of the Order, doesn’t mean we’ll do any actual fighting.” She scoffed, “Sirius, I know you, and you would jump at the chance to be on the most dangerous missions.” His laugh was anything but reassuring.

They stood in the quiet corridor for a few minutes, locked in an embrace that she couldn’t bring herself to break. “Why didn’t you include me?” she whispered into his chest.

Sirius kissed the top of her head, “I figured you’d try and stop us. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission y’know.”

“I want to join, something all of you should’ve guessed.”

Sirius smirked, “If it’s any consolation, Moony did say you might want to be involved.”

“That’s because Remus knows me better than anyone else.”

He pulled back, feigning offense, “That’s a bloody lie and you know it!”

She raised an eyebrow in challenge, “Just because you’ve seen me at my most vulnerable, doesn't mean you know me entirely.” Sirius lifted her hand and kissed it, lacing their fingers together to walk back toward the dorm and their awaiting friends.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder, bee."

———

May 6th, 1978

The Order of the Phoenix wouldn’t pay the bills, a notion that didn’t seem to matter to people like James and Sirius who were worth more than any of them in galleons. But to the rest of them, finding a career after Hogwarts was at the forefront of their minds…at least for her it was. She’d known since her second year what she wanted to do, and she was determined to get a foot in the door. Applying to jobs at the Ministry of Magic required many steps, the first and foremost being receiving the proper O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s. She’d received Outstanding’s in Transfiguration, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, and most importantly, Care of Magical Creatures. N.E.W.T.’s were being held at the end of the month, and she was practically tearing her hair out about it.

By day, she’d be in the library with Lily and Remus, the only other two that understood her determination. After revising for almost each waking hour, by night she would crawl silently beside Sirius in bed, where he’d coax her slowly (and thoroughly) into relaxation.

“You don’t have to stress so much, I have more than enough inheritance to support us both,” He said one night, propping his head up on a fist to look at her.

“It’s not about the money, Siri,” she ran a hand over his bare chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin, “I want to help people. I’ve wanted to get into Werewolf Support Services for years, I’m not about to stop now when I’m so close.”

He leaned down to kiss her softly, “I love you, you’re the most incredible woman I know.”

She hummed contently into his lips, pulling him closer.

“I’ll be here with you no matter what, love,” he whispered, hand snaking between their bodies. She sighed at his touch, “Promise me.”

His fingers grazed her core, “Promise what?”

Holding her breath, she squirmed as he teased. “Tell me.”

She squeezed his bicep, pleading with him to give her what she wanted, “Promise you’ll always be here.”

He kissed her softly, touch finally landing where she needed him most, “I’m never going anywhere, love.”

———

June 10th, 1978

N.E.W.T.s were the following week, and at that point she wasn’t sure she’d eaten a proper meal, or even brushed her hair in days. Every waking moment was either spent revising, or working on her application for the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Remus (along with Professor Kettleburn and Madam Pomfrey) had written a letter of support to add to it, going to great lengths to convey her dedication to the advancement and care of those afflicted with Lycanthropy. She’d cried for a continuous hour after reading it.

The Friday before exam week, the entire group sat around the breakfast table, some chatting away about their excitement for the end of school, others (mainly herself, Remus, and Lily) were utterly silent. Unlike her other two exam-weary friends, she sat and picked at breakfast, not even bringing a crumb to her mouth.

“You need to eat,” Remus whispered into her ear, a piece of bacon in hand, “It’ll do you no good if you’re starving during exams.”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, pushing the plate towards the center of the table, nauseous and irritable.

“Suit yourself,” Remus sighed, turning his attention to the person sitting on her other side, “Pads?”

Sirius looked over at his friend, then down at her picked-over plate. “Love…”

She gave Remus a glare, “You’re such a rat!“

“Oi, speaking of—“ he interjected as Peter rushed towards them, pink cheeked and out of breath.

“What’s up, Wormy?” James raised an eyebrow at him, “You look out of sorts.”

Pete slumped down beside him, exhaling loudly, “Filch took it!”

“Took what, mate?” Remus took another bite of bacon, watching his friend catch his breath. Peter cautiously looked down the table. “The map…” he whispered.

“Are you fuckin’ joking Wormtail?!” Sirius said loudly, causing Mary and Marlene to look up from a few seats away. She placed a hand on his arm in an effort to calm him down.

Peter threw up his hands, “I didn’t mean to!”

“What the fuck happened then?” Sirius gritted his teeth. Remus was tense beside her as well, having the ability to restrain his anger much better than most.

Peter took a deep breath, “I was using the map to check one of the passageways, and I guess I wasn’t paying attention, and the next thing I knew Filch had appeared and almost caught me trying to go behind the mirror on the fourth floor—“

“Why were you going through that passageway? Where were you headed?” She stared at her friend quizzically. That particular passage led to Hogsmeade, the secret tunnel being the largest of any they had found during their time at Hogwarts, big enough that it could hold a group of people. They never used it, finding it too conspicuous to be useful, utilizing the One-Eyed Witch tunnel to sneak into Honeyduke’s instead.

Peter didn’t meet her eyes when he opened his mouth to speak, Sirius instead cutting him off. “Who gives a shit what he was doing, that map was our legacy! And now what? Filch is going to get his grubby little hands on it and who knows what that weirdo is going to do with it!”

She looked at him sidelong, telling by his expression that he was being completely serious.

“I cleared it before he could take it,” Peter muttered, eyes still fixed on his lap, “He won’t be able to use it, unless he figures out the password.”

“Well thank fuck for that, Pete,” Sirius sneered, “I’m glad you decided to use your brain for once.”

Her head snapped to him, “What’s your problem? It was an accident.”

Sirius shook his head, “He always does this, he doesn’t think, and now look what’s happened.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Pads,” James chastised, clapping a dejected Peter on the shoulder, “Now, I’m going to go let off steam on the pitch, I think a few of you could gain something by joining me.” He gave Sirius a pointed look, who in turn wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Come flying with me,” he nudged her gently, “it’ll make you feel better.”

She shook her head, annoyed at his outburst with Peter. “I’m going to keep revising, I’ll catch up with you later.”

James stood up, followed by Sirius. “C’mon Pete,” the former pulled their friend up by his arm, “You could use the fresh air too.”

She didn’t miss the eye roll Sirius gave as he bent down to kiss the top of her head. “Moony,” he called to Remus beside her, “makes sure she eats, please.” She didn’t respond or look up at him. “I love you,” he whispered before planting one last kiss to her temple and following the other two out the main doors. Her and Remus sat in comfortable silence for a bit, him continuing to eat while she ruminated on a multitude of thoughts that swirled around her head like a cyclone.

“Talk to me,” Remus muttered, never looking up from his plate, his tone giving no room for nonsense. After all these years, he was still the only one to clock her feelings before anyone else.

She sighed, “Peter’s been acting weird.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow at her, “We’re not talking about Sirius?”

“He’s my problem to deal with, I’m more concerned about the other one at the moment. Have you noticed anything?”

Remus thought on it for a moment, crunching another piece of bacon and then passing one to her, “I’ll only tell if you eat something.”

“Fucks sake,” she said under her breath, biting the piece of meat dramatically just for him.

Remus smiled a little as she chewed, “Pete’s been…different since his dad lost his job.”

“He didn’t say anything to me about that, when did it happen?”

Remus squinted in recollection, “Uh…summer of last year I think? He told us when we got back in September one night. His mum’s been under a lot of stress at work and now with this…Pete’s been trying to help however he can, that’s why he didn’t stay here with us for Christmas.”

She nodded, “Yeah I knew he wanted to spend time with his family, he just never specified.”

Remus hummed, “He hasn’t talked much about it to us either. He’s just been really irritable and has a hairpin trigger nowadays. You can imagine what it’s like sharing a room with him and Sirius…”

“Poor Pete,” she stared down at the plate of untouched food, “You’re not upset about the map, are you?”

Remus shook his head, “Nah, it was fun while it lasted. Won’t have much use for it after next month anyway. Better to have it here where maybe it’ll fall into the hands of some young troublemakers.”

“I hope whoever finds it makes Filch’s job a hell of a lot harder.”

Remus smiled, “Cheers to that.”

———

June 20th, 1978

It had to be some sort of joke. The parchment in her shaky hands fluttered slightly as she read and re-read each word over and and over, brain trying desperately to grasp the words. She inspected the handwriting, looked for any distinguishing marks or something that would give away the letter as being a prank from someone. She doubted anyone she knew would be cruel enough to joke like this.

We’re pleased to offer you a position as Undersecretary to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Being Division, supporting the efforts of the Werewolf Support Services branch.

The sentence was practically burned into her retinas with the amount of times she’d read it. As the realization finally sunk in that this was in fact real life, she huffed out a disbelieving laugh to herself, spinning around in her dormitory trying to figure out her next move. There was only one person she wanted to talk to; one person that knew how badly she had wanted this.

———

Remus was lounging against his headboard reading a muggle novel when she burst through the door, eyes wide and breathing heavily from sprinting up the stairs. Every muscle in his body tensed as he sat up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He tried to keep his voice from giving away the panic flooding his veins. Every day the news was worse and worse, attacks getting closer and closer to home and people with more recognizable names dying on the regular. The anxiety was always there, lying in wait for the bomb to drop. Her eyes scanned his face for a moment, expression blank and neutral as she held up a letter.

“Love, what’s happened?” Remus stood up slowly, taking the piece of parchment from her, eyes flying over the words as his heart hammered away in his chest. He prayed it wasn’t her family, held his breath that the war hadn’t finally struck home.

“I…I got in…” she whispered.

Remus looked up from the paper, seeing the smile beginning to take shape on her face. All fear evaporated from his body as she beamed, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ve officially been hired by Werewolf Support Services. I actually did it, Remus,” her voice broke as he reached for her, lifting her into a full-body hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he said into her hair, spinning around in the center of the room.

She clung to him, inhaling the familiar scent of her best friend. “I’m finally going to make a difference. I’m going to fix it, Moony.”

Remus buried his face in her neck, the love he had for her overflowing, “You’re going to do great. If anyone can do it, it’ll be you.” She squeezed him tighter, opening her mouth to say something as the dormitory door was kicked open.

“Oi! Hands off my girl.” Sirius leaned against the door frame, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Moony, we’ve talked about this. If you want a three-way, you just have to ask.”

Her and Remus groaned, pulling away from each other to give Sirius matching death glares. “Don’t be crass,” she pointed at him, “I have zero interest in having sex with any of my friends, thank you very much.”

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, “What happened between us then?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile, “Oh get fucked, Black.”

“I’m trying to!” He threw his arms out. She ignored the comment entirely, holding out the letter for him instead.

“What’s this?” He took the parchment and skimmed the paragraph quickly. When he’d finished, his blue eyes shot to her in excitement.

“You got in,” he said.

“I got in,” she nodded with barely contained joy. Sirius grabbed her face, giggles erupting from her between kisses.

“I’m…so…proud…of…you!” punctuated each press of his lips to hers. His hands began to wander to her shoulders, then down and around her waist; the kisses that started out quick now becoming more heated.

“Moony,” Sirius purred as he placed a kiss against her jaw, “I need you to leave now.”

Remus sighed as he grabbed his forgotten book from atop the bed, “I’ll be in the library, please try not to break any of the furniture in here. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Sirius backed her onto the bed as the door shut.

“Mmmmm…I doubt it,” he purred as he knelt between her legs.

———

June 24, 1978

Sirius stroked a thumb down her ankle as she placed a kiss to his temple. Carried atop his back, she laughed as they made their way down towards Hogsmeade Station as a group, choosing to walk instead of using the carriages in the hopes of wringing out every last drop of time together. Behind them, Remus talked animatedly with Lily about a book they were both currently engrossed in, James’ arm casually slung over her shoulder as he pretended to listen intently. Ahead, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas skipped about, the latter two loudly singing an Olivia Newton-John song they’d heard on the muggle radio. Peter walked beside her and Sirius, the two boys in deep conversation about the state of Puddlemere United, and whether or not they’d win a championship this year.

From the higher vantage point, she looked around; taking in the sight of her friends, listening to their voices, breathing in the warm Scottish air for the last time. James caught her gaze and smiled, and she knew he was soaking it all in too.

When they arrived at the station, Sirius set her down gently, kissing her once before boarding the train with James to find them a compartment. The rest of them filed in as younger students ran past, laughing and shouting about their summer plans. She paused at the railing of the platform, staring off across the Black Lake to the castle casting shadows over the dense forest beyond.

“It’s weird to know we won’t be coming back,” Remus leaned beside her, sweeping his eyes over the landscape, “doesn’t feel real.”

She hummed, “I can’t believe we’ll all never eat breakfast again as a dysfunctional, obnoxious family.”

Remus chuckled, “Or worry about getting caught out of bed after curfew.”

“Or try to wrangle the drunk dynamic duo after a quidditch win.” Memories surfaced of having to coax James and Sirius (both incredibly wasted) down from the rafters of Gryffindor Tower after a particularly raucous victory party last year.

“Oh that’s probably…definitely still going to happen,” Remus smiled.

She sighed, the sound filled with sadness but also excitement for the future, “I’m glad I got to spend these years with you, Remus. I’m glad we all found each other.”

He threw an arm around her shoulders as they stared at Hogwarts one final time, “I’m excited to spend the rest of my years with you degenerates as well.”

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icey--stars · 2 years ago

Text

Stories To Be Told: PART 3

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

I awoke early in the morning. I didn’t sleep too well, but I didn’t fall out of the tree or anything and no creatures dared to come near.

I launched myself into the air after packing my things away and flew towards the huge mountain. I rounded the area, ignoring Velaris in my peripherals and instead focusing on where I saw people coming out on the flattened plateau area at the top of the mountain.

I glided for a little, observing, before I landed, tucking my wings in tightly before I went to face whoever was near.

I saw Nesta and the two females beside her regard me carefully. One had wings, and one had red hair. There were other females as well, but they seemed to focus their attention elsewhere.

Cassian was near a wall. I met his gaze for only a moment before turning to assess the training grounds.

It was sandy and had many fighting rings, as well as weights and dull training weapons lined against a wooden wall.

I spotted Nesta and her friends coming up to me. The Illyrian I took more attention towards when I saw scars running down her wings. Clipped. My heart ached a bit for her.

“Hello there,” I said when they had come close enough.

Nesta just dipped her head in greeting. The red-headed one spoke, “I’m Gwyn, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N,” I replied.

The Illyrian female spoke up as well, “Emerie.”

I dipped my head towards her. Despite not knowing her, I knew from the scars on her wings what she had potentially faced in life, so I respected her more than most already.

I saw Azriel land across the area beside Cassian. I just merely regarded his presence with a quick glance before focusing on the females in front of me again.

“I suppose we’ll see how well you can hold those weapons soon,” Nesta said before she walked off. Gwyn waved a bit as she followed. Emerie stared at me just a while longer, her eyes glancing at my wings. I blinked slower, letting a very slight smile onto my face. Emerie did the same back before she followed Nesta. If I wanted to get to know anyone here, it’d most likely be Emerie first, I decided.

Cassian walked up to me next. “I don’t know how skilled you are, nor what you can do, so join in wherever you want. The more skilled train with me for weapons and the newer ones train with Azriel at whatever skill level they’re at.”

I nodded. Cassian walked off toward Nesta and her group. I took a glance at Azriel who was with the other females before I walked to a corner of the training area, setting my bag down along with my sword. I kept most of my daggers on me though. Then I walked over to where Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie and Cassian had already begun stretching.

I joined in. My flexibility wasn’t the best of the best, but it was certainly better than most; I confirmed that when I was able to do all things that Cassian was able to do. I suppose I could use him as the standard for my skills for now, I decided.

“Alright, shoes off ladies,” Cassian ordered. “We’re going to review the basics again. You guys haven’t done it this week.”

“Why is it always the basics,” Nesta groaned.

“It’ll be fast, Nes, you know that,” Cassian said with a smirk. “You’ll get to play with your sharp stabby things in a bit.”

Everyone unlaced or toed off their boots. I set my own boots to the side, stretching my arms one last time before getting ready to do “the basics” or whatever they were. I paid very little attention to what the Illyrians considered the basics, and instead familiarized myself with their flight, formations and signals. Never with their basic sword fighting. Perhaps it’d be similar to what Rainne put me through.

“Balance on your right foot,” Cassian ordered.

We obeyed. I was slightly confused. This was their basics? I’d be perfectly fine then, I chuckled. I kept my foot raised for a long time, only almost falling once before I mastered myself and took a deep breath to focus again.

“Left foot.”

I switched my feet mid air, landing on my bare left foot, heel first to my toe, a silent and very light landing. I’d mastered this sort of balance first with Rainne. I knew my fighting style differed from a normal Illyrian fighting style, but this much? Perhaps they really didn’t like their footwork, I thought, amused.

Cassian brought out a bunch of wooden sticks, handing us each two.

“Stretch out horizontally with your arms out holding the sticks.”

I flipped the wooden poles in my hands as I stretched my leg out behind me, and balanced each pole in my opened palms facing upward. This, at least, was familiar to me. Rainne had loved to torture me using this technique. Palms up to the sky, balancing some sort of pole or dagger or stick while my head remained up, and body balanced.

“Good,” Cassian praised as he did the same with us. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second.

“Switch.”

I completed the order quickly, my thighs and calves flexing as I again balanced myself.

Another technique Rainne loved to use to torture me was making me spread out my wings and hold them up as far as they could go. I didn’t do this now, but these exercises were certainly bringing up a lot of memories.

“Good. Let’s do our squats now,” Cassian ordered after we’d held each position around a total of 10 minutes.

Squats, in my opinion, were terrible, but necessary sins. When we finished, my thighs ached subtly, but at least Cassian hadn’t had to correct my posture or anything like he did for Gwyn and Nesta.

“Great. Let’s do the 8 pointed star next,” Cassian suggested. “Grab a training sword.”

The other three females went immediately to grab a sword. I hesitated. 8 pointed star? What was that?

Cassian noticed my hesitance. “I don’t know the Raven’s teaching method. The 8 pointed star is just sword maneuvers. You can follow along, or I can show you.”

I met his gaze. “I suppose I’ll learn it. Learn how the Illyrians do it and all that.”

Cassian nodded. I went to pick up a training sword. It was significantly heavier than the sword I carried, and shorter, but I’d manage I suppose.

“Nes, you three do your star,” Cassian ordered as he turned to me, holding an Illyrian blade that he drew from his back.

I met his eyes and he blinked. “Seeing as you already know how to use a sword, this, in theory, should be easy,” Cassian assured, speaking quieter than when he was ordering us into balancing. “Perhaps sometime we should spar, and you use that lithe blade you left in the corner.”

“Perhaps,” I replied. “Compared to the Illyrians I’ve fought, my style is much lighter.”

Cassian nodded. “Interesting,” he merely regarded. “Get into a stance,” he then ordered.

I spread my legs farther, holding the training blade with both of my hands and faced my head forward, my weight settled more onto my haunches as I bent my knees slightly.

“Hm. Good,” Cassian decided. “This will work. I’d rather not mess up whatever you already have memorized internally. Hold the sword out in front of you.”

He copied my position in front of me. I noticed his weight sat more on his feet than mine, but it worked. I held the sword out, elbows bent so that I was looking through the blade at Cassian.

“Copy what I do,” He simply ordered. Then threw out his sword in a powerful arching slash, flipped the blade and blocked an invisible blow, then downward. And he paused there, looking at me.

I copied what he did exactly, easily and without any faltering. An easy maneuver, I noted. But it was a powerful one.

He simply grinned and then did the next set of movements. I copied them without any problem. This continued until we’d completed eight different maneuvers, each easy to complete and slightly familiar to me I noticed. The Illyrians I’d fought tried these on me. And I’d learned how to block them. Not use them.

“Good,” Cassian said as I finished the last movement, a side step into a stab. “Memorize those movements, if you plan to continue coming to training.”

I dipped my head slightly. Sweat was coming off my brow and I wiped my forehead, shaking out my wings to feel a slight cool breeze blow into them.

I copied the 8 pointed star with the other three females. It was only a memory issue, if an issue occurred, and I quickly revised it, completing each set of movements with skill and confidence.

“Good, alright, let’s pause now,” Cassian ordered after a bit of time. We rose to face him. I saw the other females taking deep breaths, eyes closing for a moment before opening them. They looked a lot more focused, I noted as I took deep breaths to let my lungs catch up.

“If I can steal Azriel, we’ll spar, but otherwise, we’ll do some weight training,” Cassian explained, and then walked off with an amused grin as Nesta immediately protested.

Emerie looked at me now. I met her gaze. She was strong-willed, I noted as I saw her back straighten and gaze harden. That told me I was slightly threatening to her. So I took a slight step back, showing I meant no harm. She blew out a breath and just nodded to herself. I could tell she wanted to ask me questions, but hesitated.

I spoke just loud enough for her to hear. “Just ask, I don’t mind,” I promised.

Emerie jerked her head up. Then, after a beat of silence, she asked, “You’re able to fly,” She said, a simple observation that I was not clipped.

“I escaped a long time ago,” I replied. “I was almost not able to.”

Emerie nodded. Understanding flooding her gaze. “Who?”

“The camp lord. It was before Rhysand was High Lord,” I explained.

“Ah,” She murmured.

Nesta gave me a look, as if in warning, but I also saw a bit of sympathy flood her gaze. I tried to ignore it.

Azriel and Cassian were walking over toward us now.

“Alright. Nesta, with Emerie. Gwyn, Azriel. Y/N, you’re with me. You can use whichever blade you choose. But I am quite curious to see how you fight.”

I dipped my head, and decided to return the training blade and retrieve my own sword. I belted on the short leather sheath before walking over to Cassian. Everyone else had begun a spar, blades flashing in the light.

I withdrew my sword from my hip, the thin and long blade shining with the light beating down.

Cassian lowered into a fighting stance, as did I. Then we began. It was slow at first. We each tested each other. I grew more confident with each swing though. These were sword techniques I recognized from other Illyrian males. The thing that kept me at bay was the fact this was a spar, not a murder, and Cassian was told to be the best warrior in Pyrthian. He was confident in his skills, and sometimes that can prove fatal.

We drew apart for only a split moment before rushing each other, gazes hardened. I parried his blow, and attempted to knock the blade from his hand. I failed that maneuver miserably and quickly leaped away, landing on my right leg as I flared my wings slightly. Cassian didn’t let me gain an inch.

We fought for a long time, being the last pair to finish, almost a whole half hour later. Cassian had moved forward when we had our blades pushed together, something I wasn’t expecting, and caused me to lose my balance. He used this to trip me. I had to admit he was very skilled compared to other Illyrians. I noted his movements as I took his offered hand to stand. Strong and confident. If I ever had to face him in a fight to the death; Mother help me, I prayed. I put my blade away in its sheath.

“Fancy footwork,” Cassian complimented before turning to everyone.

Azriel, I noted, was watching me closer than before, but he turned his gaze away after he saw me staring right back. He was walking back to his own charges after a couple moments, shadows swirling around him. I tried not to think too much about it. Maybe he was just weird. His job was being a spymaster. And what did spies do for the courts? Kill people... torture people... be sneaky and mysterious. Honestly, he could just be like that, I considered.

Nesta dipped her head toward me, as if in respect. I dipped my head back in return. Very subtly though. Lest she think I'm going to openly show her respect this early into knowing her. People earned my respect. The less subtle my head dip, the more respect I have for you.

The sun was much higher in the sky, I noted as I glanced up. Close to noon.

“Alright, everyone, water break and cool down, then you can be done for the day,” Cassian spoke.

I followed the crowd over to a water station near an archway. I made sure I’d gotten my fill before wandering back over to the training area for my final stretching. Luckily, the term ��cool down” wasn’t foreign to me.

Cassian ordered us into the final stretching for the day (it was a pretty easy day of training to be honest, for me). I stretched out my wings wide as many of the females who trained took a breather and sat down.

I went back to my things, staring off into the sky in front of me. I suppose I could train, but I’d need to find somewhere to stow away my belongings preferably. A tree hole would do, I thought.

Azriel came over towards me. “You’re impressively skilled,” He commented.

I perked up, folding my wings as I turned toward him. “Thank you,” I replied. He didn’t leave, just kind of staring. I quirked a brow. “Is there something you want to ask me?” I asked.

“Why do you keep your shadows hidden?” Azriel asked, his own dark beings floating in the air around him.

I turned away slightly. “It’s not safe,” I replied simply. “And while the whispers I hear are comforting, it is much safer to not have them around me.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he just nodded as a form of acknowledgement. “Will we see you tomorrow?”

I hesitated for a second. Should I come back? Is it a good idea to attach myself? Sure, the training was most likely useful, and I might even be able to share some of what I know, but, was it really a good idea to come here, and get used to having people around me again? It’d be nice… but I didn’t trust it. Not completely.

“Maybe,” I said, deciding to not decide yet.

Azriel seemed uncomfortable for some reason. “What are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

“Probably fly and then hunt for rabbits. I saw a warren not too far away when I arrived,” I replied, turning around to gather my things, slinging my bag over my shoulder and right wing.

“You’re welcome to come to the House of Wind for dinner,” he offered. “Unless you are uncomfortable, but the House can provide a meal for you elsewhere besides the dining room if you’re uncomfortable there. Just ask aloud.”

I dipped my head. “Perhaps,” I decided. It’d be easier than hunting rabbits, but I didn’t know if I was ready to come back here so soon.

“Goodbye,” I said, half spreading my wings in preparation for a flight.

Azriel replied, “I’ll see you later.”

Maybe, my mind helpfully reminded me.

I didn’t waste another beat, eager to get out of the awkward conversation with the weird spy. I glided down to the forest, finding a hole in a tree right at the base of the mountain. I settled my bag into it, and after a second of thought, my sword too. I blocked up the entrance with sticks and then launched myself into the sky.

I glided on the other side of the mountain, over forests and other, smaller mountains around the House. I didn’t fly over Velaris, deciding that wouldn’t be the best of my ideas, even if Cassian and Azriel knew I wasn’t a threat this time.

I opted to glide just above the treetops, enjoying myself plenty enough. I checked up on some aerial maneuvers I knew, and flew high up in the clouds where the air grew thinner before I regarded the sun’s position in the sky. Just high enough to hunt.

Then I thought about Azriel’s offer. I could go back, having a well prepared meal rather than just cooked rabbit over a fire. It’d taste better, and be probably healthier. I pursed my lips before turning my course towards the House. I silently swore to myself it was only for tonight.

I landed on the same balcony as before, walking inside the doors. Nobody was there to greet me. I explored a bit, coming to a small area by a window with a simple stool and table. Books were in one corner, piling up on bookshelves, and the small table beside it. A nice little nook in the entirety of this mansion.

I recalled Azriel’s instructions. Just ask aloud? That seemed weird, I thought. “May I please have a meal?” I asked aloud, quieter so if anyone was near, they wouldn’t hear me.

A plate with food popped up on the table. Magic.

“Thank you, I guess,” I chuckled. “A sentient house. Interesting.”

I ate my food relatively quickly. When I finished, the plate disappeared.

“Alright, I best be going,” I said aloud to myself, and just in case the House was listening. Though it was very weird to be speaking to a literal structure.

I glided down to my things before once again setting up to rest in the branches of a tree. I decided it was most likely safe enough and decided to rest in the tree at the foot of the ridge. I didn’t know when I’d decided I’d go to training again, but something in me just said to go.

So I did.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azrielxreader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cassian #nesta #emerie #gwyn acotar #valkyries #mywriting

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sethcertified · 2 years ago

Text

「 SCREAM FOR YOU ! 」 . . . 📂 03

scream : billy loomis, stu macher

wrd count : 3.2k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . [name] sneaks into a crime scene and sees a certain boy being arrested

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

My room was a mess. Pencils spread out across the room, cut-out newspaper pieces struck to the bulletin board that now took up a majority of my wall. Sharpies circling random phrases and words surrounded by question marks or tiny annotations.

And me? I was a mess. The more I researched the farther I fell down this rabbit hole. Anniversary killings, multiple killers, experience in murder, etc. All of it kept piling up except for one thing; motive.

The motive just wasn't there. Nothing tied all of it together. At least, not yet. It felt awful to wish for another murder, but I prayed for it. The chance to get more clues was what I wanted more than anything.

The first kill was the most important at the moment. At first, I thought it was Casey, but now I'm sure it wasn't her. It was Sidney's mom. It had to be! As much as I believed Sidney, I couldn't let my hunch go.

The killing was a year ago, and it just was a coincidence that another killing is happening as the anniversary is upcoming. No way.

I just couldn't figure out how the killer could go from something so personal to something seemingly random. Why would he kill Casey?

Besides, the age range I have for Casey Becker's murder would be teen to early twenties, but for Sidney's mom, it would have been much older.

My turmoil was overwhelming me. As I thought I had a lead everything would jumble together like a ball of yarn. At this point, I wasn't sure of anything. Maybe Billy was right. I should've just waited til the next murder...

I raked my hands into my sleeves as I tried to comfort myself. What was I thinking? Solving a murder was impossible. I have no experience, no teacher to guide me, I have nothing. Nothing good. Nothing useful. All I have is stolen supplies and slipping sanity.

I escaped my once haven now hell to go downstairs. Some food to refresh my mind was what I needed. Tatum's door was closed today, but I could hear her talking. Probably to Sidney.

My stomach turned at the thought of Sidney. She was already having trouble dealing with the murders apparently, and Gale Weathers harassed her about Cotton. I felt as if I was betraying her even considering this killer could be the one that killed her mom instead.

Downstairs I saw Dewey on the phone. I hid from his vision as I listened to his conversation.

"Sidney Prescott?"

"The killer?"

"I'm on my way."

Sidney? What was going on??

I rushed to Dewey's car as he ran upstairs to get his uniform on. I had to know what happened. I wasn't close to her, but Sidney was still a person I cared about. And she was Tatum's best friend. It would crush her to know Sidney died.

Sidney dead? Just like her mother... A very year ago from now. The pieces in my head started to click. Sidney was the true target! All the other killings? A distraction.

I hid behind the side of the car as I waited for the beep. I had to be at the scene. I had to know if Sidney was dead or miraculously still alive. I had to.

The floor of the backseat of Dewey's car was rough as I launched my body into the car before Dewey could see the door flying open and close. My face was planted onto it as I curled my body into a fetal form. The things I do for the people I care about...

Gibberish from Dewey's police radio filled the otherwise silent car. I could tell the car was speeding, and my worries grew. Did Sidney get gutted just like Casey and her boyfriend? I felt sick at the thought. I was just praying for another murder, and it could be someone I knew. Someone I spoke to today? Tears erupted from my eyes.

I tried to stifle my cries. Dewey couldn't hear me. He would tell Mom, and I would be grounded for the rest of my life! I clapped my hands over my quivering mouth and tried to think of anything but Sidney.

I thought of Stu. His laughter and his quirkiness. The way he cheered me up even after my creepy call and our discussion of gutted bodies. Bodies of people we knew.

Bodies of people he may have gutted inside out.

Sidney's body.

I squeezed my eyes shut. It seemed that everything I once was sure of was falling right in front of my face.

The car halted to a sudden stop, and I shook away from despair. I needed to focus on not getting caught. Peeking into the small slit of the car door and the seat I watched as Dewey scrambled out his car door. Tracing his movements I waited til he was far enough to leave the cramped space of the back seat.

I shot out of the car door and tumbled onto the damp grass. Picking myself back up I leaned against the now-shut car door looking to see when the coast was clear for my next move. Police officers scattered all around the Prescott house. A sense of emergency in the air.

I rushed to another cop car and began my lookout again. More police... And more police. I was hoping to find Sidney alive and well, but as my gaze diverted from police officer to police officer my hopes diminished one by one.

The sound of a scream left the front door of the house, and I whipped my head toward the noise. Sidney was crying out in distress. As much as I hated seeing her so miserable I thanked the heavens for her livelihood.

Dewey and other police officers rushed into the house and Sidney began to crumple against the door frame. I wanted to rush towards her and tell its okay, but I knew it wasn't the place. I needed to see if they caught him. And who is he?

The police officers rushed back outside, and I could see that there was something (more like someone) thrashing in their arms. Laser-focused I stared at the huddle of police preparing for the killer to be revealed.

They slammed the culprit against a police car in my line of vision. Dewey began to cuff the presumed killer. I leaned forward to see if I could get a view of who it was. Closer.. closer.. closer.

Billy?

I let out an audible gasp of shock. Billy was the killer? I took back my previous words of Billy not being an unfeeling psychopath. He was behind this all along. But why would he try to kill Sidney? Why would he kill Casey? My questions reached farther back. Why would he kill Sidney's mom?

I saw the Sheriff pull up to the driveway, and I knew I had to get in a car. I rushed back with my eye still stuck on Billy's thrashing body and hurried into the car. The uncomfortableness of the backseat floor was the least of my worries.

Did Stu know of the crimes? I still held some suspicion for him. Billy's motive just didn't make sense. At least, for him alone. Maybe it was Billy and Stu... They could be going on revenge kills for women that have wronged them.

But how did Sidney's mom wrong them? I wanted to thrash around and scream. My frustration was peaking. Not to mention the two people I trusted with my theories about the case could be the killers...

There was truly no way for me to get my mind off of my current troubles. It was all too much. Dewey clambered into his cop car, and I listened to his excited ramblings about solving the case.

"Billy–" Dewey said, "Billy was the killer! And I caught him..!"

I felt like puking at Dewey's enthusiasm. A promotion and an ego boost at what cost? Two dead bodies; that's what.

I felt the cop car come to a stop and Dewey got out. I knew that to keep my cover of not sneaking into a cop car and a potential murder scene I had to wait in the car for some time. Getting up from the rough floor I relaxed into the backseat seats. It was by definition lousy, but it felt like my back was being massaged by angels.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket seeing a missed call from Tatum. I prepared my acting skills before answering, "Hey Tate, what's up?"

"You won't believe this. Sidney. You know, Sidney? My Sidney-"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, I know Sidney."

"She survived an attack!"

"What? She was attacked? Where is she? Is she okay? Did they catch the killer?"

"This is where it gets juicy. They caught Billy. You know, Sidney's boyfriend Billy. Billy Loomis-"

"God! Yes, Tate! I know Billy. So they know it's him. Confirmed."

"Well, not confirmed, but he had a phone on him. Pretty guilty if you ask me."

"Look, I'm on my way. Tell Sidney I'm glad she's safe. Love you, whore."

"Love you too, and I'm not a whore."

The phone hung up with a beep and I looked at my watch. I would have to say I walked which would take like 30 minutes. Setting a reminder in my mind I leaned back into the seat. Billy. If he was the killer I needed a motive still. Why would he kill Sidney or her mom? Or Casey Becker and her boyfriend?

God, he was what, 17 and already killed 3 people? How could I have let someone so vile under my nose this whole time? I slammed my foot against the car seat in front of me. And what about the call? Was he planning to kill me? Or Tatum? Or even Dewey?

Why was he flirting with me on the call..? Billy had always shown some kind of contempt for me ever since- Flirting was Stu's thing. Fuck, Stu. I wondered if he knew about what had happened and felt a strong urge to call him.

My thumb hovered over the numbers to dial his number. The small click of the buttons as I pressed against them was the only noise in the silent car. With my finger hanging over the last digit I pressed down and my phone began to ring.

"What's up?"

"Stu, man, Billy's been arrested."

I heard some shuffling, "What?"

"Yeah. They think he's the killer. Sidney caught him or something." I rested my head against my palm in frustration.

"It can't be him anyways. He was with Sidney the night of Casey's murder. She's just freaked out about the attack."

I perked my head up at the last sentence. How did Stu know Sidney was attacked? My breath got shaky and I hung up the phone.

Is it Stu?

I stashed my phone away in my pocket as I headed into the police station. I couldn't be alone with my thoughts after the call... I couldn't think about Stu any longer, nor could I trust him.

Inside the station was as busy as ever. Phone calls ringing. Uniforms zoom around the place. I looked around for Sidney and Dewey and Tatum.

"[Name!] Over Here!"

I turned around to see Tatum holding Sidney by the pay phone. Rushing over to their direction I hugged Sidney, "I'm not gonna ask if you're okay 'cause that's a pretty stupid question, but I want you to know I'm here you help you any way I can."

Sidney just whispered a tiny thanks and we backed away awkwardly. I turned to the investigation room where I saw Billy and his father surrounded by police. There was no way for us to hear what was going on, and my curiosity was killing me.

As Tatum went to the bathroom Dewey and I ushered Sidney to a chair as we could see her body begin to fail. I sat next to her and just awkwardly played with my hands as Dewey left to get some "top secret" police stuff.

I sighed as I leaned my head back against the chair. Sidney turned to me, "Something bothering you?"

"I don't understand how anyone couldn't be bothered with everything going on."

Sidney chuckled, "I guess you're right."

I just gazed at her. I knew she didn't have anyone to relate with and no mother or father figure to talk about this with. Sure she had Tatum, but Tate wasn't one for serious convos.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Mhm."

"I got a call too. The night of Casey Becker's murder."

Sidney's head turned in my direction in a millisecond, "Really?"

"Yes, I don't know who he was after in the house or why he called, but he did."

"This is huge! I thought the only person who went through what I did was dead!"

"Same! I just need to know why he didn't attack me or Tatum or Dewey. So far he's attacked everyone he's called."

Sidney just nodded, "Maybe 'cause you're a guy? So far he's only called girls and then attacked them."

"I had that theory."

"Theory?" Sidney arched her brow at me.

"Yes, theory... I'm working on my investigation. It's kicking my butt."

I slumped forward as I buried my head in my hands. Sidney gripped my thigh as I did so and I peered up at her, "You got this. Ever since like elementary you've been a genius."

I returned her smile as she looked back in Billy's direction. Her attention was diverted away as Dewey sat in front of us at his desk. I blocked out what he was saying as my gaze was still focused on Billy. I could see his eyes flicker from Sidney to me, and he mouthed something to me and I gave him a puzzled look. It looked like he said, "wait."

I prayed that Sidney didn't see the look as I furrowed my brows at him. If I even hinted at being buddy-buddy with Billy it might ruin the small progress I made with her tonight.

Dewey left his desk as soon as he came, and I watched Sidney intently as she made eye contact with Billy again. Her muscles tensed and her face tightened. I leaned closer to her and began to whisper in her ear, "Don't focus on him. Focus on me."

She nodded and I took her hand as I began to trace the lines in her palm, "I do this when I get overwhelmed. Helps me remember it's my body and I'm in control."

Sidney smiled at me as she took my other hand and began to trace the lines in my palm, "You know, I'm glad I can talk to you about this. Tatum-"

"Tatum's not the one for these convos. I get it."

We shared a smile and I tried my best to keep my eye on Billy. Sidney was my top priority right now, but I had to know what Billy needed from me.

I guess my attempts at subtly looking at Billy didn't work as Sidney turned around and looked at him. He turned back to her and they made eye contact once more. She just turned away and I gave her hand a proud squeeze, "You got this."

She just gave me a sly smile, "That's my line."

"Mine now."

We both shared a laugh until we saw them escort Billy out of the investigation room. I felt his yearning gaze on Sidney, and I tried my best to keep her gaze on me. Billy may hate me for it, but I knew Sidney couldn't bare seeing him again. He yelled out for her, but I just gave him a shut-up look. He mouthed something to me again, but this was much clearer.

"Tonight."

I just gave him a nod and turned my attention back to Sidney. Tears began to slip out of her eyes, and I moved to hug her. She gripped my jacket and I felt her body shake with sobs.

I caressed her hair as Tatum approached us. She placed her hand on Sidney's shoulder moving her to face Tatum instead of my shoulder, "Sid. We're going to get out here, okay? You okay?"

As Tatum moved around her body she loudly exclaimed, "Oh, c'mon." I saw her glance at Dewey and I realized her plan. Tatum was a person of action, not words, and I finally understood that even if she couldn't comfort Sidney with her words she would always prove that she was there for her.

"Dewey, can we go now?"

"Hold on a second."

"God damnit, Dewey!"

I could see Dewey's ego begin to crack, "What did Mama tell you? When I wear this badge, you treat me like a man of the law."

I snickered as Tatum began to go off, "I'm sorry, Deputy Dewey-boy, but we're ready to go. Now, okay!"

I followed the two girls as they sat up and left through the back door of the police station. The outside world was truly a circus. Lights flashing and mobs surrounded the station, and the ringleader of the circus was coming this way... Gale Weathers wearing a bright, neon dress that made my eyes bleed.

As she began to bombard Sidney with questions I pulled her into my shoulder as Tatum lurched forward, "She's not answering any questions, all right. Just leave us alone."

Sidney just gave me a polite look as she brushed off my arm around her shoulder, "No. No, Tatum, [Name], it's okay. She's just doing her job, right? Gale?"

Tatum and I shared a befuddled look. Sidney hated Gale Weathers? What was she doing?

"Yes, that's right."

"So, how's the book."

"Well, it'll be out later this year."

"Oh. I'll look for it."

"I'll send you a copy."

Sid began to back away until she turned around a punched Gale Weather square in the face. We all started to let out gasps of shock as Gale fell back and cursed at Sidney.

Dewey grabbed Sidney by her arm and we were rushed into the car. As Dewey drove us home we all began to reenact the incident (which he got onto us for); however, our shared hatred of Gale Weather did prove to be rather funny in these moments.

Our laughter stretched out as we headed into the house. Giggles escaped Tatum and Sidney as they were retreating into Tatum's room, and I was hiding away in mine.

Billy had mentioned something about coming over tonight, so I waited anxiously checking my watch every thirty minutes or so while hiding away. I had to know what he needed to say to me. What he had to say to prove his innocence.

That being said I couldn't let anyone else know that Billy was coming over. It would destroy my relationship with everyone, and make me a suspect in the crimes.

My waiting was cut short by Sidney's screams coming from downstairs. I shot out of my room and ran downstairs to see my mom and Tatum surrounding Sidney. I forced the phone out of Sidney's grasp, "Who is this?"

"Put Sidney back onto the phone."

"I'm sorry, she can't come to the phone right now."

I motioned for Sidney and Tatum to go back upstairs and they hesitantly retreated as the phone stayed silent.

"Check your windows, [Name.]"

✎ notes . . . yes, this is a repost. tumblr deleted my old acc >:( ⟡ . ⛪ ◦ ✺ 2.5 ⇿ 04

©️ sethcertified 2023

#☆ — sethcertified #☆ — scream for you #scream #scream 1996 #scream x male reader #scream x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x male reader #stu macher x male reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #x male reader #male reader

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shostakobitchh · 5 months ago

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chapter 63 sneak peek!

To Ariel’s immense relief, the next several weeks passed without incident.

She settled into what she began to consider her normal routine. Classes, Occlumency, trying not to think about the Mirror-Slytherin. Black hadn’t been spotted for nearly two months, leaving everyone feeling a bit lighter as the holidays quickly approached, and Ariel kept herself busy.

Busier than anyone, of course, was Hermione. The little time Ariel did get with her was spent in the library after dinner, since she always seemed to disappear during the day. This left Ariel to wander aimlessly at times, since Ron had been spending more and more time down at the Quidditch pitch with Dean and Seamus. She’d overheard them talking one night about Ron trying out for the team next year, which had made her heart sink a bit.

In the meantime, no Black meant that Ariel could venture out onto the grounds every once in a while to bring food to Snuffles, who was looking skinnier than ever these days.

One blustery Friday afternoon, Ariel found Snuffles hiding beneath the rickety stairs to Hagrid’s hut. She usually came that way to get to the tree line that Snuffles seemed to patrol while Hagrid had class. Ariel always caught Snuffles pacing back and forth, which she didn’t know was strange for a dog to do or not. She figured she’d have to ask Hagrid, at some point, along with if he ever kept any spare meat handy for Fang that she could use. It was getting trickier to sneak food out of the Great Hall.

“Easy,” Ariel warned Snuffles as she set down the napkin.

She’d filled it with the shepherd’s pie they’d had the night earlier, managing to get her whole serving saved, somehow. She’d put a questionable Stasis charm on it before shrinking it down to hide inside her rucksack.

Snuffles didn't need telling twice. With a needy whine, he launched forward, gulping down the food in greedy mouthfuls. Ariel watched, amused and a bit alarmed. She wondered if she should start to bring two servings from now on.

While Snuffles scarfed down the food, Ariel Transfigured a rock into a bowl, pouring a stream of water from her wand into it. He usually drank three or four bowls before he rested. Ariel reckoned he was trying to fill himself up before heading back into the Forest, though she wondered if he was just being a typical dog, always ready to eat and drink until bursting. Dudley had begged and begged for a dog once, and it might’ve been the only time Aunt Petunia had told him no. Couldn’t have a filthy mutt ruining her perfect white mausoleum — although Aunt Marge’s dogs were fine, but that was a double standard Ariel could never understand. Ariel had secretly wished for a dog as well. Dudley would’ve gotten bored of it within three days, and then it would’ve become Ariel’s job to take care of it, which she would’ve done gladly.

Aunt Petunia’s rules were just one of many things Ariel tried not to think about as she sat on the stone stairs outside Hagrid's hut, watching a large black dog attack a dish of shepherd's pie as though it was the last meal he’d ever get.

Snuffles looked up and whined, bowing his head, as if he were saying sorry I’ve been ignoring you. Again — weird for a dog — but maybe not for a dog that lived in a magical forest.

Ariel scratched behind his ears and sighed. “Me too, boy. It’s alright.”

Snuffles wagged his tail and let out a soft, apologetic woof, which Ariel took as his acknowledgement, feeling a brief warmth bloom in her chest.

The wind picked up, bringing the smell of pine and damp earth. Ariel shivered and pulled her robes a little tighter around herself. She looked out towards the Forbidden Forest, its murky depths inviting and ominous all at once. She wouldn’t stay long — nothing would happen as long as Hagrid was in class, anyway. They were so close to the Forest that anything out of the ordinary would be hard to miss, and the Dementors had been banished beyond the gates.

Ariel played fetch with Snuffles for a while after he finished eating. At first, Ariel thought Snuffles might’ve actually been a little slow. It hadn’t taken him a minute or two to figure out what she was doing, eyeing the stick with a quizzical tilt of his head, before he finally sprang into action.

He grabbed the stick — albeit a bit clumsily — and brought it back to Ariel, dropping it at her feet with a proud wag of his tail. They continued until the late afternoon when the sun began to dip behind the tall spires of Hogwarts and a chill cast a shroud over the sprawling grounds. Ariel felt her stomach groan loudly, reminding her that dinner was not too far off, but she wasn't sure she wanted to return to the castle just yet.

He whined when she stood up, a sound that made her heart break. Ariel sat back down against the chilled stone of the stairs, absently letting her hand move in long strokes along Snuffles' glossy black fur. He rolled over onto his back, revealing an underbelly just as starved as Ariel had initially thought. A humorless smile pinched at her lips.

“I know, I don’t want to go back either,” Ariel murmured, and it was true. She would just go to dinner and pick at her food, watching Hermione mull over her mountains of work while Ron pretended to sit next to them, only to be pulled away by the boys moments later.

It wouldn't help fill the lonely chasm that pulsed within her. She'd tried to explain it once, to Hermione — how she felt like a puzzle with a piece missing, but Hermione being Hermione, had tried to rationalize, tried to find solutions where there were none. It wasn't about logic or understanding, it was about feeling, and Ariel often felt like she was in a world entirely of her own despite being surrounded by people.

Snuffles nudged Ariel's hand with his cold, wet nose. His tail thumped rhythmically against the stone steps, a gentle echo that reverberated on the wind.

"You're a good listener," Ariel said with a weak smile. "I suppose because you can't talk back. I bet you’d have all sorts of opinions if you could, though.”

Snuffles whimpered softly in what seemed like understanding. There was a sad sort of sagaciousness in his eyes as he looked at Ariel, almost as if he knew exactly what she was talking about.

Suddenly, motion off in the distance caught Ariel’s attention. Snuffles took off like a bullet almost instantly. Ariel spun around, instinctively reaching for her wand, only to find Professor Lupin emerging from the treeline. His usually pale face was flushed from the winter cold.

What was he doing in the Forest? Although he was the Defense professor, perhaps he was looking for a new subject for their classes.

(Or for Sirius Black)

Ariel stood up and walked down to the trail to where he was heading in her direction. When Professor Lupin caught sight of her, he broke into a jog to meet her, smoothing back his windswept hair.

"Ariel," he panted, pausing to catch his breath. "Are you alone? What are you doing here?"

"Yes, sir." Ariel cast a glance over her shoulder to where Snuffles had disappeared among the trees. "I was just… needing some fresh air."

Professor Lupin gave her an appraising look and then shook his head. “I’d like to tell you that coming out here alone is still unwise.”

She bit her lip. “But?”

He blinked.

"But," he said, taking a moment to think. "I'd be a hypocrite if I say that I didn’t understand.”

His lips tugged into a small smile, his gaze resting on her for a beat longer than necessary.

Ariel shrugged. “I don’t get a lot of fresh air these days, especially not being able to go to Hogsmeade. You're here too now, aren't you?"

Lupin chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose I am."

“I’d enjoy some company going back up to the castle, though.”

Professor Lupin gave a small nod, leading the way back up the trail. Ariel followed suit, noting that his cloak was tattered at the bottom, covered in muck and dead leaves. She wanted to ask him what he’d been up to, but stopped herself from prying, knowing all too well what that felt like.

If you’re going to have secrets, you’d do well to ensure you can keep them —

The castle, far in the distance, was all lit up, a beacon against the falling dark.

“I hope you’ve been able to find some quiet out here,” Professor Lupin said, his voice a soft echo in the crisp winter air. “It can be quite peaceful. The Dementors have made that quite difficult this term.”

Ariel nodded. "It's… nice.”

Nice was a poor way to characterize the soft silence of the Forest washing over her — the brief respite from the Dementors' chilling presence. She knew from experience that sometimes, it was better to let silence speak for itself. Walking with Professor Lupin — this person she both did and didn’t know — in companionable silence, not trying to make forced smalltalk about her dead parents, was — nice.

“I think I’d like to come up with a different way to deal with them — the Dementors.” Ariel added, when Professor Lupin sent her a puzzled look. “Besides the Patronus.”

"They are difficult creatures to manage," he agreed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "The Patronus is the most effective method known to wizards, but I suppose there could be other ways."

“Do they have faces? I’d like to sock them right in the mouth.”

Professor Lupin chuckled. “Not quite mouths in the way you’re picturing — more like a gaping void, I’m afraid. I bet you’d still throw a mean punch, though.”

“Right, well, I’d like to punch them regardless. Maybe I can set their stupid cloaks on fire.”

"That would be a sight," Professor Lupin said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Perhaps we’ll have to give it some thought when our lessons resume.”

He’d told Ariel shortly after her attack ago they could resume after Christmas. Ariel hadn’t asked why, not wanting to push her luck, but still grateful. She hadn’t dared talk to Snape about it again. He’d been so strange since he’d forced himself into her mind, so rigid and yet — not. There were times where Ariel could sense that if she pushed back even slightly during their Occlumency lessons that Snape would bend, but she couldn’t tell if it was some sort of test or not.

She hesitated, and then the question she just had to ask burst from her before she could stop herself. “Why do the Dementors affect me like that? Am I just — ?”

“It has nothing to do with weakness,” Professor Lupin said sharply, as though he had read Ariel’s mind. “The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don’t have. If it can, a Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself — soulless and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Ariel —”

His voice trailed off, his gaze growing distant as if he too were unfurling from within, and Ariel wondered what lay in the vault of his heart, what the Dementors made him hear. She could only imagine — maybe he’d lost people in the War, too. People other than her parents, his friends.

“Azkaban must be terrible,” Ariel muttered, a chill skittering down her spine.

Professor Lupin nodded grimly. “The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.”

“But Sirius Black escaped from them,” Ariel said slowly. “he got away —”

Professor Lupin tripped on something, then. Ariel couldn’t tell, the path darkening quickly before them, but she grabbed his arm to steady him all the same.

“Yes,” he said, straightening up. “Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long.”

“Black definitely wouldn’t have been able to cast a Patronus.” Ariel frowned, then. “How else would he have fought them off?”

"I don’t know," Professor Lupin answered, his voice strained, as if a dark cloud had descended upon him. "Black is the only one known to have done it. He would have been different, when he came out — worse than before.”

Ariel stagnated her thoughts for a moment, letting the silence fill the air between them once more. She watched the trail of his breath hover and dissolve in the frigid air, an uncertain ghost of a thought she couldn't distinguish.

"Maybe he was already worse to begin with," she finally said.

Professor Lupin didn't answer immediately, but Ariel could see his eyes narrow in the failing light. His gaze felt heavy on her, as if he were studying her, probing for something beneath her words. He frowned, a line of tension appearing between his eyebrows.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Professor Lupin hesitated, as though he were reconsidering. “You didn’t happen to hear anything that day, did you?”

It took Ariel a moment to figure out what he was talking about. The abrupt change in conversation made her feel like she had whiplash. “I — what? Like what?”

And then, another thought made her heart sink — like my mother being murdered?

He cleared his throat. “Like a — dog.”

Ariel’s breathing hitched slightly. Snuffles — he’d been trying to warn them, but Professor Lupin had been so distracted by it that he hadn’t noticed the Dementors bleeding out from the trees.

What did Snuffles have to do with anything?

"No," Ariel lied, shaking her head. “I heard nothing but her.”

She didn’t miss the way his eyes flared at her answer. His gaze held a touch of surprise, disappointment, and something else she couldn't quite discern. But even as it made her stomach churn uneasily, she held his gaze steadily. Ariel wasn’t about to betray Snuffles' presence for whatever reasons Professor Lupin might have. She didn’t think he’d do anything to her dog, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

“I see,” Professor Lupin sighed, turning his gaze away.

Ariel shifted uncomfortably under her cloak, the material suddenly feeling too heavy against her skin. She watched him carefully now, the intrigue rising within her like a tide, Snape’s words echoing in her ears —

You are too much like her, you cannot trust him —

Professor Lupin stopped in his tracks abruptly, causing Ariel to almost walk into him. He turned to her, his face solemn in the twilight, the faint traces of worry etching lines deeper than she had seen before. His hand found her shoulder and curled into it, but it was cold and hard through her cloak like a stone.

Ariel just stared up at him silently, unable to find the words she needed. The cold seemed to have seeped into her bones, making her feel hollow and brittle.

I held you as a baby —

I didn't want to see you because I didn't want you to see me —

I owed your parents more than that —

For the first time, Ariel found herself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Snape was right.

#sam speaks #aim and ignite #sneak peek

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jack-xoxo · 8 months ago

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Im being careful, I know what I’m doing…

Cw: 18+ !!

You feel groggy when you first wake up in the morning. Your arm moves lazily to feel the big hairy mammoth that would usually be lying with you, but your senses wake you up in realization and you sit up straight, your eyes move with your head, and you wake up to an empty bed "fuuhhcckk" you groan to yourself, you put on a shirt and walk out the room. The building you stayed in was vast, big enough to fit the number of people in Washington into one building, but you didn't need to look around the whole structure to find Miguel, you knew the one location he would be in, and you would frequently joke as the 'doom cave'.

The bright screens above you caused a slight blindness, and suddenly, a web shot from your arm, launching you onto the floor. Layla, who always brightened up your life, figuratively and literally, glitched on your shoulder. She kept you updated on the job Miguel couldn't do for seven months. "How long has he been up?" you asked her.

“Mmm” the bright yellow fairy tapped on her cheek before snapping her finger “For at least 5 hours, he sneaked out of the room for this”

You nodded slightly and Layla zips out of your view, now wanting to give you two the stage.

Miguel is in a shrimp stance that we can work with, holding a massive red flag and eyes the size of a bloodhound. He acknowledges your presence but chooses to ignore it as his fingers tap dance on the bright dance floors that fade after a minute; he was wearing a baby strap to support his hefty belly bump and couldn't perform work with just one hand. You knew your fetishes were strange, but you never imagined you'd be attracted by your husband in his robe, boxers with his soft package jutting out, pecs growing larger and strangely loaded with milk.

Stress was going to be the death of both him and the baby. He knew better, but the timeline needed to be followed and everyone required a check-up; you saw no reason for him to watch folks he didn't (or barely) know. Your hands glide up to his shoulders and squeeze him; his arms relax but his fingers remain frozen in the holograms; you see the chair you gave him at the beginning of Miguel's pregnancy from your peripheral view and shoot a rope to drag it closer; then you pat his back and whisper to his ear, "You should sit down."

Miguel's gaze never left the screen "Maybe" He kicked the chair out of the way, but you grabbed it swiftly. "Now, Miguel," you said.

"Later…" he said, his tone slightly angry.

You both weren't going to back down; you fired a web at his back and kicked the chair to him before pulling, just in time for him to sit down; he swore under his breath.

"Will you join me in bed and not sneak away again?" You ask, your hands back to firmly squeeze his shoulders, then you proceed to touch and milk his pecs, wetting the robe, "I have work to do" He repeats it, allowing it to stick with you because it is his only reason. Your mind wonders how a man can be so stubborn and independent yet, so loving and so un-independent. "You always have something to do," you remind him. "Take the day or even the week off." He slicks his hair back, brushing the strands away from his face.

Miguel hummed in response, returning to his grim work environment.

If you can't talk out of it with him, you might as well force him.

You keep squeezing his milky pecs; he usually keeps it quiet, but not when his hands slow down and tremble as he tries to do his job, keeping it hard while the warm liquid pours down your hands. Miguel's stern visage quickly softened, and you kept testing the waters, your lips haunting his neck with taunting teases.

Your hands move in a circular manner, and more golden milk flows like a fountain as you continue to squeeze his pecs. Miguel leans and squirms in his seat, while his cock expands and throbs uncomfortably in his underwear. He murmured under his breath, "Shockin' hell my love…" as the pre leaked through the fabric that grew thinner to hold his cock down. Miguel pulled down his boxers and his cock flung free, weeping precum and twitching under the belly.

Gasping for air, he called out her name “Lyla…” His body was drenched in sweat, and his heart was pounding out of his chest, as he collapsed into the chair. With every passing moment, his body temperature kept rising, and he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, making him feel hornier than ever before “…Silent mode for 45 minutes”

The room dims to a greater light; you continue to grope his chest and lean in, but he leans forward. His hands grip the desk as you place your hands on his chest, then move them to hold his waist. The head of your cock nudges against Miguel's entrance, teasing him as you pull down your sweatpants and thrust the tip into his entrance, resulting in gentle and low grunts. "Keep holding my waist honey…" he told you, as you kept thrusting slightly "don't stop… shock… shock…" he whispered as you shoved the entire length in "shock!!, Órale güey!!" He moans aloud.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel 2099 #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguelmawad #breast milk #mpreg #pregnancy kink #preggo kink #boobymilk #mommy milkers

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tarisilmarwen · 1 year ago

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Rebels Rewatch: "Kindred"

Do you think Filoni has hit peak wolves yet? Lol.

Live reaction version.

Soft Kanera moment is Soft.

And brings up some interesting questions that don't really get fully answered. What was the inextricable pull that kept drawing them back to Lothal again and again, even before they met Ezra? Was it the Lothal Temple, and by extension the gateway within? Was it some kind of connection Kanan had to Lothal? Was it his planet of origin too? He was able to manifest through the Force as one of the wolves after his death after all.

It's not something that's fully played out, this plot thread, I think perhaps owing to the writers having to shorten the last season down to 16 episodes, more akin to Season One, so it's ultimately left an ambiguous mystery.

Pryce having the realization that she's not actually Thrawn's Favorite lol.

Ruhk is accompanied by appropriately menacing drums and woodwinds. Fun fact: Warwick Davis apparently bullied Filoni into giving him this role lol.

You don't even know it's him the voice is so good.

Ruhk's movements are also excellent. He hunches, only straightening when he needs to smell, easily goes down on all fours to lope across the plain like an animal. His run cycle is like some kind of perverse feline or gorilla. There's a bestial quality to him. Unlike his Legends incarnation, which depicts him as more hulking and burly, this version is deceptively small but stocky, solid and almost wirey-looking. It's a great creature design.

The Noghri assassin is also immediately, extremely competent, identifying Zeb in the area by scent at once, probably detecting it lingering on Ezra's scout trooper armor and launching immediately into a surprise attack. He has Ezra flipped onto the ground in a leglock within seconds.

He then charges Jai, forcing Ezra to reveal himself as a Jedi with a hefty Push.

I'm sorry I'm cackling at Zeb sneaking around literally behind Pryce's back. This is why Thrawn replaced you, lady.

<333

The chase scene is brief and kind of basic but does the job. And OH BOY now we're at another Weirdass Kanera Walkback Conversation, with Kanan suddenly pushing for reassurance about what kind of future Hera wants after all the fighting and whether he's a part of it and what her feelings actually are towards him.

Right, so the way I reconcile this one is that Kanan is starting to sense the stirring, growing life inside Hera and is trying to roundabout confront her to think about what this means for them. And at this point she knows, but she doesn't know he knows, and is still trying to hold him at arm's distance while she mentally processes the discovery and how to tell him.

Because what do you mean, "Do I [know how you feel]?" this was clearly already a settled issue! WHY ARE YOU ASKING THAT QUESTION LIKE YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW? YOU GUYS ARE SPACEMARRIED AARRRRHGKJHGJ.

So yeah, moving on.

There's a great moment where Ryder almost shoots Zeb that makes me lol and then after we've installed our hyperdrive the Empire makes a hasty exit from the area necessary, again, owing to Ruhk's incredible competence.

Hera, perhaps feeling the need to reassure Kanan of her affections and devotion since he's acting so rattled, finally plants an onscreen one on him.

This is clearly not the first time they have kissed. Possibly the first time they've done it this publicly, as Sabine immediately nudges at the others to look, but this is practiced and comfortable, seasoned, if you will.

:))))

Like I said the previous rewatch, I don't understand being secretive to normies then but being okay guiding them all out of danger now. I dunno, maybe it took Ezra befriending the one for the others to decide, "Oh okay, they have Jedi, they're cool. Let's help them."

"How have you people stayed alive so long?!" The literal will of the Force, Ryder, lol.

"We're going to finish them my way." Which is, per Pryce tradition, bombing the living shit out of things.

~ANYTHING TLJ DID, REBELS DID BETTEEEEEEERRRR~

The chiming from before continues throughout this sequence, so now we have something in the score to musically denote the wolves.

Kanan, come on, you should know by now this is his "thing".

Yeah so this is one of the sequences where the wolves just kinda DO things and the show doesn't really explain why because ~mysterious~. Why did they want Kanan? Were they checking to make sure there was a Master/Padawan pair? Do they recognize him as one of their own kind since they keep repeating "Dume"? How do they know Kanan's former name? What do the cave paintings mean?

*shakes writers*

ANSWER ME DAMMIT!

Kanan and Sabine inexplicably switching places so that Ezra can hold Sabine's hand again. XD

As frustrating as the mystery of the Loth-wolves can be sometimes, this sequence is hella cool. Blue light igniting the depths of the tunnel, Ezra's eyes reflecting it like the hyperspace eyes he got with the purrgil...

Soft white footsteps on inky liquid blackness. The muted sound, as if from far away.

The only truly trippy part that throws me is the little grassland shot in the middle of it all, with the white Loth-cat.

But whatever the wolves did, it worked. Our heroes have now been literally teleported out of danger. The Force Theme rings out to confirm the wonder of it all.

There's even some kind of actual structures here, an abandoned mountain village maybe?

It's also really pretty. Per standard for this show lol.

"Babe, you are holding back on me."

The chimes again, I'm pretty sure that's a specific instrument but for the life of me the name of it is escaping me, but it's denoting the wolves again, as they move back into the cavern. I do recognize the harp glissando there, though.

*sits on hands, sighs, bites lip about how I hate mystery boxes, especially ones that don't open*

Kanan dropping the first hints that the wolves are the guardians of Lothal, Force entities specifically assigned to protect the planet because of the gateway to the WBW, whose energies they can also tap into and use, which is now under threat by Palpatine personally.

...Yeah you know what, we'll go with that.

And of course after hearing Kanan express faith that Hera made it out we confirm that ourselves.

Good job love.

So. This episode gets weird. The kind of anime mind-trippy weird that used to be way too dense for me to parse through. (Still have a hard time of it, in fact, I dunno what it is Japanese directors just kind Do They Thing and don't bother explaining much, they just vibe.) But on the rewatch it does seem clearer that--aside from the elements in the wider plot they were going to explore about Kanan that Freddie Prince Junior hinted at in interviews that probably got severely cut out with the episode trim--most of the weirdness is actually misdirection in order to set up the wolves as Special Force Entities who need Very Specific Jedi Help to save the World Between Worlds.

The wolves don't come out and say this yet, probably very cautious and testing Kanan and Ezra out to see if they're worthy, but the implications are already there.

Oh, and I guess this episode made Kanera shippers happy too, or something. Happy for y'all, enjoy it while it lasts.

Next time, our last little bit of fun before shit hits the fan.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #kanan x hera #rebels rewatch #liveblog #romance writing woes #BOY HAVEN'T USED THAT TAG IN A WHILE

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thevibraniumveterans · 1 year ago

Text

REBELS REWATCH

S1E15 — FIRE ACROSS THE GALAXY

It is evening, and at one of the Empire’s docking bays on Lothal, Sabine steps out from her hiding place: “Miss me, bucketheads?” She has her paint gun in hand. The troopers recognize Sabine and fire upon her, but she is quicker, dodging blaster fire and scaling a building. As she runs across the rooftop, she continues to draw their fire. She sasses their inability to even make a direct shot at her, saying, “Yup, you definitely missed me.” She leaps off the building and does a forward somersault, escaping. The troopers run off, and an alarm sounds off. Somewhere close by, Ezra and Zeb peek out from behind a building. Ezra notes, “Sabine’s distraction is working.” With troopers pursuing and firing at her, Sabine makes a leap no ordinary human could make and barely just catches onto a ledge nearby, swinging up and over and dodging enemy fire. Ezra and Zeb sneak aboard a ship, the teenager almost giddy with excitement. He runs into the cockpit, stretches, and activates the controls before sliding into the pilot’s chair. The ship comes online, and starts ascending. Sabine, meanwhile, continues to sass her pursuers, leaps off the building she’s on, tucks and does a backward roll, using a trooper as a springboard, and landing on a ladder leading up to the TIE fighter cockpit. The ship Ezra has stolen and is currently piloting approaches the TIE Sabine is on. She leaps again and catches onto the TIE’s solar array, stands on its edge, and salutes Zeb. He opens the landing ramp, Sabine gets into a running start, and launches herself onto the ramp, sarcastically saluting the troopers with a “Bye-bye, bucketheads!” The stolen ship swoops through the smoke of the exploded TIE fighters, courtesy of Sabine, the resident explosives expert. The smoke forms the telltale starbird symbol.

Some time passes, and the Ghost is revealed to have docked with the stolen ship. Aboard the Ghost, Ezra, Sabine, Hera, and Zeb gather around the holochess table, a map suspended in the air before them. The hologram shows the red planet of Mustafar. Hera notes, “The transport you stole will get us close to the fleet over Mustafar.” The map switches out with a SSD. Hera continues, “We know they have Kanan on Tarkin’s Star Destroyer.” Zeb points out it’s surrounded by others just like it. Hera agrees, and asks, “We’ll need a distraction to cover our entry. Sabine?” Though she’s just 16, it’s evident that Sabine’s time at the Imperial Academy has come in handy for her role as a rebel Spectre. She points out, “Engine room’s here, all the power for the ship. If we could get inside the docking bay, I could rig something, black ‘em out. But our transport ship’s not gonna fit in there.” That’s very specific information, which tells us that Sabine has long known the dimensions of ships in the Imperial Navy. Hera says, “We need something small enough to get into that hangar bay. Too bad we blew up all the TIEs at that base.” Ezra thinks for a bit, and points out, a bit sheepish: “Well, uh, there is one left. But it’s not at the base.” Zeb catches on, and motions for him to not reveal its hiding place. Ezra, however, tells him, “Look, this is serious, Zeb. For Kanan.” Zeb acquiesces, and Hera wonders, “What’s going on?” Sabine glances sideways at Ezra, who admits: “The TIE we stole a while back, we uh…” He brings a hand up to his neck and nervously looks away. “We didn’t exactly crash it.” Hera asks, “And by “didn’t exactly,” you mean…” Ezra replies, perhaps a little too quickly, “We didn’t crash it. We kept it. Hidden.” Hera looks around and asks, “You all knew about this?” Zeb’s silent, Sabine has a hand covering part of her face and doesn’t make eye contact with Hera, and Ezra looks away again. Seems like they’re all guilty. Hera tells them, “I should be angry. I should yell at you for disobeying a direct order. But right now, I’m just grateful we got it.” She looks at Sabine and Ezra. Both teenagers guiltily look at each other, both bearing an expression that suggest they are trying to think of a way to explain themselves out of the situation without getting into more trouble. Sabine crosses her arms, staring blankly at the floor of the Ghost. Ezra admits, “Uh, there’s a slight problem with it.” Hera asks what it is, and Zeb, not wanting to get into more trouble, goads, “Yeah, what kind of problem?” Ezra and Sabine look up at Hera, shrug, and grin awkwardly. (In a previous episode earlier this season, after the one where Ezra and Zeb stole the TIE, Ezra was late for training because he was “with Sabine”; it’s possible that he had spent time with her painting the TIE. But it’s not confirmed, there is no proof that this is the case, that these two events are connected.)

Later, the crew arrive at the site where the TIE is hidden. Zeb looks up at the fighter craft and says, “Well, this is awful.” Sabine rebukes, “What? It’s some of my best work.” The TIE’s solar arrays are painted in geometric rectangles and stripes, the main body itself not much different. It also sports a few green stripes and two matching racing checkerboard patterns. It would be, in the Empire’s eyes, best described as gaudy, but the colors are in the Spectres’ signature orange, yellow, and green, with a smattering of red, green, black, and white. (Orange, as it turns out, would be the Rebellion’s signature color, with Sabine’s very own starbird evolving into the very symbol of the wider Rebel Alliance.) Hera notes, “It’ll have to do.” Zeb thinks she was “supposed to be the sane one” and complains about the colors. Hera notes, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this mission doesn’t make military sense.” She walks to stand between Sabine and Ezra, and continues, “But Kanan is family. And we’ve all lost enough family to the Empire. So rescuing him makes sense to me. I’m not ordering you, any of you, to come along. But you need to decide now. In or out?” The rest of the Spectres, of course, want in. Zeb asks about the TIE, and Hera notes that it would only be scanned: “By the time the Imperials see it…” Sabine finishes the sentence: “…It’ll be too late.” Ezra shifts his line of sight from Sabine back to Hera.

Some time passes, and Hera pilots the ship that Ezra and Zeb helped steal earlier this episode. They are en route to Mustafar. True to form, several Star Destroyers guard the planet. Hera says that she would “send in our transponder code as soon as we know Kanan is there. Ezra?” The teenager agrees: “Well, here goes nothin’.” He closes his eyes and focuses on the Force, and yet again, a faint humming sound is heard. Zeb wonders if Ezra’s made any progress; Sabine responds, “Give him a minute.” Zeb disagrees, saying they “don’t really have” one to begin with. Trying not to panic, Hera asks Ezra about Kanan. For the time being, Ezra is silent, his brows furrowed further. Then his opens his eyes in surprise: “He’s there.” He turns to Hera. “He’s alive!” Hera sends the codes and the painted TIE, as promised. Once the TIE is on board the SD, Sabine - who had previously rigged it to blow (well, a pulse detonator) - sends the code to make it explode. It does, and also shorts out the armor of nearby troops as well as most of the destroyer itself. (Could this foreshadow how in S3 or 4 Sabine reveals that she had created The Duchess to fry anyone wearing Mandalorian beskar armor?)

Once aboard the destroyer, Ezra uses his lightsaber to carve a hole in a wall. He steps through, followed close behind by Sabine, Hera, and Zeb. Sabine points out, “These guys will wake up soon.” Ezra turns around and asks her, “How soon?” Zeb reckons, “Too soon.” Ezra motions for the Spectres to follow him down the corridor. As they race against time, Chopper comms them, warning them of fast-incoming reinforcements. Sabine, likely utilizing her knowledge of destroyer blueprints learned during her time at the Academy, says, “Don’t worry. On a ship this big, it’ll take ‘em a while to find us.” Spoken a little too early, Ezra and Co., round the corner right into a squad of troopers. Noting the obvious, Ezra raises his blaster combo weapon, takes aim, and lets loose. The Spectres turn to run in the opposite direction, and are cornered, again. They turn around a second time, and the troopers start shooting. Ezra whips out his saber to fend off a few shots, and Sabine fires off a few rounds herself. The blast doors close, and Ezra warns Hera to “stand back”. He stabs his saber into both layers of the blast doors, sealing off the Spectres’ escape. Behind him, Sabine notes, “Pretty clever, kid. So what’s next?” Ezra turns around and admits, “Kanan is down that hall. I just cut off our only way to get to him.” Hera disagrees, looking up briefly: “Might be our only way, but it’s not yours.” Above them are several vents. Oh, Ezra would love that. True to form, he gets up there first. And finds his way. Hera instructs Sabine and Zeb to follow her.

Somewhere in the vents, Ezra cuts loose a grate with his saber, and steps into a hallway. Cautious, he stands up and stows his saber by his belt. Sensing Kanan’s Force signature grow stronger, he turns around and opens a door. It is the cell Kanan is kept in. Ezra notes, “Turns out, you taught me pretty well.” Kanan says that Ezra should not have come to his rescue, but is nevertheless “glad you did.” Ezra points out, “You would’ve done the same for me. In fact, you have.” He unlocks Kanan from the torture rack, and helps Kanan out of the cell.

Elsewhere on the Destroyer, the Spectres are still on the run, more or less cornered by troopers at every turn. As they do, they shoot the troopers on sight. Sabine says, “I hope Ezra’s found Kanan by now.” Somewhere close by, Ezra aids a limping Kanan into another corridor, which opens into a series of walkways, the other side of which stands the Inquisitor. Kanan asks to borrow Ezra’s lightsaber; the teenager agrees. He watches as Kanan first lunges and runs, saber out, then switches to the weapon’s other use, a stun gun. Kanan switches back to the saber. Ezra is surprised: “I never thought of that.” He steps forward, while Kanan duels with the Inquisitor. Ezra spots Kanan’s saber hanging off the back of the Inquisitor’s belt, and uses the Force to call it to his hand. Determinedly, he ignites it. The Inquisitor takes notice, and thinks a duel with what is essentially two Padawans “might be worthy of” his time, and ignites the other end of his double-bladed red saber. Ezra looks past the Inquisitor at Kanan, who nods. It’s now or never.

Ezra and Kanan both rush their opponent, sabers out. Ezra positions his borrowed saber to swing, but is pushed backward. He regains his footing, and taking chances in between Kanan’s hits, manage to block the red saber. Rightly terrified, he bats away the blade, but it comes swinging back at him, and Ezra is barely able to block it in time. The Inquisitor chances this momentary lapse and uses the Force to push Ezra back down the walkway. He gets up again, igniting Kanan’s saber, and is just barely able to deflect the Inquisitor’s thrown saber. The speed throws him off balance, and he falls off the walkway.

Elsewhere on the Destroyer, Sabine, Hera, and Zeb move cautiously from doorway to doorway down the hallways. Hera notes, “The other troopers are waking up.” Sabine, meanwhile, keys a command into her wrist gauntlet, and says, “I think I have an alternate plan.” Hera is curious; Sabine lays out her plan: “Here’s part one.” She throws a smoke bomb as a distraction. (The sheer number of explosives Sabine has is starting to get a little hilarious, but given her nature, this is expected.) In the confusion, she lets out a few shots, and escapes down the hallway with Hera and Zeb, and says, “Part two, we go to Bay 5.” Hera notes that is where the painted TIE is. Sabine, giving nothing away, brushes it off: “That’s got nothing to do with it.” Hera comms Ezra, telling him that “we’re finding another way out. Ezra. Can you hear me?” Beside her, Sabine starts to get a little worried.

Back along the walkways, Ezra has fallen to a lower walkway, and is unconscious for a while. His comm link chimes with Hera’s messages, and it is revealed that he now has twin scars marring his left cheekbone. A few voices, perhaps perceivable only to him, call out to the teenager. The first voice is of his mother; the second, from Kanan. A few more voices from familiar people overlap, and Ezra slowly stirs. He gingerly touches his face; it still hurts, and he winces. He sits up, grabs his commlink, and tells Hera, “I’m here.” She asks, “Do you have Kanan? Is he okay?” A few blinks and a shake of the head later, Ezra looks up to where Kanan is dueling the Inquisitor, using two blades — his own and Ezra’s — instead of one. The teenager responds, “Yeah. I think he’s better than okay.”

A blast, caused by the Inquisitor’s damaged blades dropping into the power core reactor below, rocks the Destroyer, almost knocking Sabine, Hera, and Zeb off their feet. They continue running.

Ezra calls out to Kanan, his voice echoing. Turns out, Ezra has made his way to the platform Kanan is on, and now stands behind him. Kanan says, “I thought I lost you.” Ezra responds with, “I know the feeling. Let’s go home.” He catches his saber that Kanan tosses back to him, and they both hightail it out of there.

In Bay 5, Sabine, Hera, and Zeb race toward the painted TIE, and drop into it. Hera comms Ezra: “We’re in the TIE. Where are you?” Sabine takes off her helmet. Ezra comms back, “On my way. Go!” Hera flat out refuses: “We are not leaving without you and Kanan.” Kanan, however, counters: “Will you just listen to the kid? Don’t worry, I got him.” Over the comms, Ezra adds, “You mean, I’ve got you.” Sabine, Hera, and Zeb smile. Kanan adds, “You take care of Zeb and Sabine. I’ll get him out of here. Trust me.”

Ezra and Kanan have made their way to the expansive hangar bay, and look for a way out. Kanan suggests they use the Inquisitor’s TIE, and Ezra agrees: “Well, we know he’s not gonna use it.” Kanan notes offhandedly, “You know” what, kid? You worry me sometimes.” Ezra shrugs and grins. Kanan pilots the TIE Advanced v1 prototype and flies himself and Ezra out of harm’s way. In the painted TIE, Hera keeps flying. Kanan, naturally, swoops in and clears Hera’s pursuers. Ezra comms over, “We got your back.” Sabine, in the TIE she painted, duly notes her thanks, “But without Chopper’s transport, we’re going nowhere fast.” Hera notes that there are TIEs in pursuit again. Sabine wonders how many. “Too many,” notes Hera. Zeb complains, “We’re in a bit of a tight spot.” Sabine sasses, “Yeah? Well, these things weren’t built for three.” Zeb argues back: “I meant out there, not in here!” Hera admonishes them: “Trying to concentrate!” In the other TIE, Ezra sarcastically relays, “I just want to say it was really nice getting to know all of you.”

At that moment, Chopper arrives with the transport, the Ghost, and a few corvettes. Ezra is amazed: “Who is that?” Kanan replies, “I don’t know, but I think they’re on our side.” Hera instructs: “Kanan, Ezra, dock with Chopper’s transport so we can make the jump into hyperspace.” They do, and so do Hera, Sabine, and Zeb. Ezra is still amazed at the turn of events. Safely in hyperspace, Kanan and Ezra pop out of a transfer tube on the ground, and greet Hera, Sabine, and Zeb at the other end of the hallway. Sitting at opposite ends of the hallway at the edges of their respective…holes in the floor for lack of a better word, Ezra and Sabine watch as Kanan and Hera reunite. A warm smile settles on Ezra’s face, as does a small heartfelt one on Sabine’s. As they watch, Kanan and Hera approach each other. Kanan speaks first: “I owe you all a great debt of gratitude.” He gently places his hands on Hera’s shoulders. He continues, “Even if what you did was rash and reckless.” Hera covers one of Kanan’s hands with her own, telling him, “You’re welcome, dear.” They embrace. Chopper chooses this moment to make himself known. Ezra has chosen this moment to stand up. Something puzzles Ezra; he asks, “If Chopper was in his transport ship, then who was flying the Ghost?”

The connecting doors between the transport and the Ghost swoosh open, and the Spectres stand in the doorway. Ezra is in the middle, flanked by Hera and Kanan to his sides, Chopper in front, and Sabine and Zeb behind him. Chopper rolls forward; four guards permit him entry. The Spectres think this odd, but walk through anyway. Hera and Kanan step forward. Behind them, Ezra and Sabine follow; she momentarily looks sideways at Ezra, who keeps his eyes forward and expression neutral. Zeb follows behind.

Chopper beams a live transmission. It’s Senator Bail Organa. Kanan asks about “the crews of the blockade runners”, and is told they are members of “other rebel cells.” Sabine is surprised at this revelation: “There are other cells.” Ezra, too, is astonished; neither he nor Zeb know that the Spectres, like other rebels, are a cell. Hera notes that none of the other rebel cells were supposed to meet for their own safety. “That was the protocol,” says Hera. A voice from behind Bail’s hologram makes herself known: “The protocol has changed.” The hologram switches off, revealing none other than Ahsoka Tano herself. At this point, it’s the first time the Spectres (especially Sabine and Ezra) meet “Fulcrum” in person. (It would be many, many years later that they would separate and reunite, a whole other galaxy away.) Kanan asks, “Why would you come here?” Ahsoka replies, “Because of you and your apprentice…” Ezra smiles, a little shyly. Ahsoka continues, “…many in this system and beyond have heard your message. You gave them hope in their darkest times. We didn’t want that hope to die.” Ezra asks, “So what happens now?” Ahsoka admits to not knowing, but notes, “One chapter has closed for you, Ezra Bridger. This is a new day, a new beginning.” The teenager in question grins proudly, knowing the risks he has taken so far have enabled the uprisings of other rebels around the galaxy. The weight of Ashoka’s congratulations is not lost on him.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #ezra bridger #sabine wren #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #star wars chopper #sabezra #ezrabine #ahsoka tano #my notes

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coconurt · 1 year ago

Note

For the writing prompts hi :3

38 :3

Whoops, my hand slipped *yeets this at you and runs away*

Rottmnt movie spoilers, Raphsandra, cw for head injuries and minor blood

~~~

Way up here, perched next to Raph and the others, Cass had a great view of her two ex-bosses and the rest of the clan.

They got there just in time to hear the tail-end of the mandatory Evil Speech and Plan Exposition.

"-We shall follow the Kraang as they lead the Foot clan to glory!"

Dumbasses. The whole lot of them. If Shredder didn't teach them their lesson, nothing would. What part of "don't keep summoning world-ending bad guys; it won't end well for you", didn't they understand? They were just asking for the ass-kicking they had coming their way.

Then out of nowhere, Leo's voice made them all jump.

"Booored."

Busted. An angry shout of, "You!" came from below.

"Leo!"

"What? I was waiting for a good spot to jump in, but they just kept blabbity blab-ing."

Cass rolled her eyes. Children. She worked with literal children.

Then the new kid — Future Boy, the scrawny teenager that shared her name and dark hair, the boy she had a sneaking suspicion might be her future son — piped up.

"There it is! That's the key!"

"Get them! Don't let them interfere with the ceremony!" Her old sensei screamed out. Cass's muscles tensed in unison with Raph and the others', and they jumped down as one into a melee waiting just for them.

Now this. This kind of fight was where Cass really felt the most herself. They split up, each taking out ninja after ninja. With a savage yell, she kicked some poor sap in the stomach at the same time Future Boy called out.

"No! It's started! He's unlocking the doorway!"

Huh. That was… real fear in his voice. Enough to make her pause and look over. Wow, he really must not have been kidding about the whole fire-and-brimstone, end-of-the-world Kraang situation.

"We need to get up there right now," he insisted.

"Casey, go. We've got you covered." The blue one slashed his katana, and his unsuspecting victim dropped through one of his portals and reappeared on top of the platform with the ominous looking pedestal. As she threw punch after punch, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Junior trounced her old boss. She had to admit, the sight was quite satisfying. Cathartic, even.

Just as she was starting to feel confident about their odds of stopping the apocalypse, purple light suddenly burst from the top of the platform and spilled throughout the room, and she knew they'd lost.

Junior was thrown back down, and they all regrouped in formation around him in time to watch a glowing portal open.

"Oh no…" he said, his voice hushed and horrified. "They're here."

"Then let's make sure their visit is short and sweet," Raph said, then launched himself forward and up onto the platform. Cass had to bite her lip to hide her smile. As much as she insisted they were stupid, she really loved her boyfriend's dumb one-liners.

… she could do without the butterflies they gave her, though.

Raph reached the top just as the monstrosity the Foot had been trying to summon crawled its way out. Her stomach turned, as her chest heaved with exertion. This is the thing that took over the world?

It was… disgusting. Huge and slimy, built like a tree trunk, with purple skin and the orange eyes of a predator. And then it spoke.

"I'm finally free!" It boomed. "The people of this planet will pay for what they've done to me!"

Well. That sounded reassuring.

"Welcome to Earth! I hope you don't enjoy your stay-!" Raph yelled, and lunged at the creature. Quick as a flash, it whipped a tentacle out, grabbing the snapper around his neck and beginning to choke him.

Cass felt her blood go cold, then hot, and she and the others sprung into action. Mikey and April swung their weapons at the creature, only for their attacks to backfire. She, Junior, and the rat were up next. They advanced from the sides, while she leapt in the air and aimed her hockey stick right at its big ugly eye. She had a perfect shot.

"CASEEEEY JO—!"

Then the next thing she knew, a huge tentacle broadsided her. She flew a few yards before slamming hard into a stone wall. Her head connected with a solid crack, and black stars exploded in front of her eyes.

Distantly, she heard Raph roar her name, followed by an angry shout from the Kraang. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard it start to make a horrible noise. She managed to lift her head, and although her vision was wobbly, she could make out huge bursts of orange, crimson, violet, and cerulean being extracted from the brothers, the energy crackling and angry like wind from a solar storm.

"No…" she whispered.

…

She must have blacked out, because when she blinked again, the colors were gone and the monsters had multiplied. She squinted and focused, hoping it was the double vision. It wasn't. Now they had three to deal with.

They were saying things, but it was all too murky to make out. Suddenly, there was a flurry of action she couldn't follow, then a part of the ceiling collapsed, taking the rat and Raph down with it.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to gather the energy to get up and go help, but Raph quickly freed himself and went straight to his father, who now laid unconscious and injured.

Raph looked up and away, an agonized expression on his face. Cass followed his line of sight, to the others still fighting a losing battle against the Kraang, then looked back to him in time to hear that one awful word she'd never heard him say in all the time she'd known him.

"Retreat!"

The blue idiot protested, because of course he did. After a brief back and forth, purple activated the escape pods and him, Orange, O'Neil, Future Boy, and the rat all got rocketed away.

She thinks she might have blacked out yet again, because the next thing she knew, Raph was sliding into a kneel at her side, his eyes wild and panicky.

"Casey? Can ya hear me? We're gonna get you out of here, okay? Just hang on." Carefully, and with badly shaking hands, he reached to cup the back of her head and winced when she let out a pained hiss. His hand came back bloody.

Slowly, and yet as fast as he could without hurting her further, he helped her into her pod. He hesitated for half a heartbeat, then leaned down and kissed her quickly, just the briefest touch of lips. More like a promise than an actual kiss.

"I'll be right behind you, okay? We'll regroup back at the lair," he assured her.

You better, if you know what's good for you, she thought, but she wasn't sure the words left her mouth.

She instead hummed a vague acquiesce, then the escape pod finished closing around her head. She only saw Raph's face through the window for a few more moments, then it was lifting off, taking her away to safety.

She passed out again somewhere along the way, but it was with the feeling of absolute surety that he was coming, too. They lost this one, but they would all live to fight another day. They could still win this.

…

She only realized otherwise after Leo emerged out of his brother's pod back at home.

#MWAHAHAHAHAAA #>:D #did i rewrite an entire scene from the movie to include cass because she should have been there?#yes. yes i did #anyway #i am absurdly happy with how this turned out #hope you like it bestie :3 #asks #owlfacenightkit #my bestie owl <3 #my writing #rottmnt #rottmnt movie spoilers

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hatereadings · 4 days ago

Text

Chapter 2

(previous)

Note: I think tumblr is taking issue with how long this post is, so I'm splitting the chapter in half. This one's the first half.

...

We open back in the same opulent room as before.

"Your Highness," said the Captain of the Guard. He straightened from a low bow and removed his hood, revealing close-cropped chestnut hair. The hood had definitely been meant to intimidate her into submission during their walk. As if that sort of trick could work on her. Despite her irritation, she blinked at the sight of his face. He was so young!

I'm not sure why him removing his hood means it was meant to intimidate her. Unless the idea was that he thought she wouldn't take him seriously if she could see how young he was? In which case -- there's a better way to communicate that.

Captain Westfall was not excessively handsome, but she couldn't help finding the ruggedness of his face and the clarity of his golden-brown eyes rather appealing.

This was the part that made me reconsider whether the Prince was the love interest -- the captain being close to her in years means he's a candidate too.

Somehow I'd forgotten about 2010s YA's penchant for love triangles.

They both wait for Celaena to bow to the prince, she has some defiant thoughts about how she's not going to grovel to him in her last moments, and then

Thundering steps issued from behind her, and someone grabbed her by the neck. Celaena only glimpsed crimson cheeks and a sandy mustache before being thrown to the icy marble floor. Pain slammed through her face, light splintering her vision. Her arms ached as her bound hands kept her joints from properly aligning. Though she tried to stop them, tears of pain welled.

Okay, so... we spent the entire last chapter being told she was deadly, she was badass, she needed six guards to protect everyone else from her, and now... some dude just sneaks up on her and shoves her onto her face?

I realize that some readers might have thought I was being sarcastic when I made my last post. So, to clarify, when I said teenage girls dreamed about being deadly assassins or fearsome mercenaries, that was sincere. And, honestly, that's an extremely valid power fantasy. Good for them.

It's just... this is supposed to appeal to those folks, and yet...

One of my friends called this the Gamora Effect: In the first Guardians of the Galaxy movie, we get told over and over how incredibly deadly and badass and whatnot Gamora is, but then we actually watch the movie, and she somehow fails to win a single fight. She has a three-way fight with Quill and Rocket and Groot, where she gets captured by them in slapstick fashion; she has to get 'rescued' from Drax by Quill, with the implication being that no way she could possibly win a fight against him, because look big guy with buff muscles, even though we were literally told she was trained to kill from birth. She gets rescued by Quill again when she's launched into space without a breathing mask, and then she gets sidelined from the main battle into a girl-on-girl sparring match with her sister, where, somehow, neither of them win, because collateral damage from one of the other fights takes them both out. We don't actually get to see her have a single physically badass moment in that first film. But we're told over and over how deadly and dangerous she is, so I guess we have to believe it, despite the lack of onscreen evidence.

It hasn't been long enough for me to claim that the same thing is happening here, but I'm going to start keeping track of Celaena's actual on-page showing in physical situations, rather than what the narration says about her. So far, we've seen her

get dragged into a room she didn't want to go in by guards, even though she genuinely thought they wanted to kill her and was presumably fighting for her life

get shoved to the floor by a red-faced mustached man - one whom she apparently didn't even notice while she was describing the chandeliers and the stained glass.

Anyway, the guy lectures her on showing respect for the Crown Prince:

"That is the proper way to greet your future king," a red-faced man snapped at Celaena.

What, faceplanting in front of him?

Anyone who's ever tripped in front of their crush, please rejoice. That is, in fact, the proper way to greet your YA love interest. Ruddy-faced man is portrayed as fat and balding, dressed in orange that matches his hair, so we're clearly meant to dislike him (again, 2010s YA; Disney attractiveness logic is in play). I'm guessing he looks something like this:

If she could move her right arm just a few inches, she could throw him off balance and grab his sword...The shackles dug into her stomach, and fizzing, boiling rage turned her face scarlet.

The ellipses aren't skipping over anything; that was present in the text. But this is another hallmark of Maas's that was present in ACoTaR, too: She doesn't fully finish her thoughts. They kind of imply something, but you're left to actually draw the conclusion yourself. Here, Celaena is pissed at this orange man, and she wants to kill him. But... presumably the shackles stop her? Except we don't actually see her try to take any kind of action; she just feels the shackles digging in, which... she would have done anyway, since getting thrown on her face with her wrists in shackles in front of her would have made the shackles... You get it.

I'm not saying we need every move or every thought spelled out or anything. Just... here, specifically, having Celaena try to act but having the shackles surprise her by getting in the way and ruining her attack? That would make what's happening on the page actually explicit to the reader, instead of halfway-implied; and it would solve the Gamora Effect problem -- sure, she's deadly, but she's restrained, and the restraints are working.

The Prince is like, you don't have to do that, and he's super bored. We're told that Tangerine Man is named Duke Perrington, which makes it all the weirder that he somehow managed to sneak up on a trained assassin, and also decided to... attack her? After she killed an overseer and needs all these guards around to prevent her from killing anyone? Whatever, though. Perrington leaves and she gets up.

As she rose, she frowned at the imprint of grit she left behind... But she'd been trained to be an assassin since the age of eight, since the day the King of the Assassins found her half-dead on the banks of a frozen river and brought her to his keep. She wouldn't be humiliated by anything, least of all being dirty.

Does assassin training somehow include not-being-ashamed-of-being-dirty classes? Why are these sentences relevant to the possible humiliation? This is like if I went, "I have been eating cookies since the tender age of three, when I was first left with a box unsupervised. I won't be embarrassed by getting caught with spinach in my teeth during an interview!"

Dorian Havilliard smiled at her. It was a polished smile, and reeked of court-trained charm.

I mean, if I'm describing a love interest's charming smile for the first time, I don't think "reeked" is the verb I'd use, but you do you.

Sprawled across the throne, he had his chin propped by a hand,

Is it just me, or is this kind of weird phrasing? Like, I know he doesn't literally have a severed hand propping up his chin, but... what was the point of wording it like that?

...Yet there was something in his eyes, strikingly blue--the color of the waters of the southern countries--and the way they contrasted with his raven-black hair that made her pause. He was achingly handsome, and couldn't have been older than twenty. Princes are not supposed to be handsome! They're sniveling, stupid, repulsive creatures! This one ... this ... How unfair of him to be royal and beautiful.

You know what, that's actually fair. I'll give Celaena that.

"I thought I asked you to clean her," he said to Captain Westfall, who stepped forward. She'd forgotten there was anyone else in the room.

How romantic. He talks about her like she's a dusty used car, and she's like, wow, the entire world just narrowed down to you and me.

She looked at her rags and stained skin, and she couldn't suppress the twinge of shame. What a miserable state for a girl of former beauty!

We JUST WENT THROUGH your whole career and how that meant you wouldn't be ashamed of anything!!!! It took ONE SENTENCE from a cute boy for you to--

Actually, you know what, that is kind of realistic. I take that back.

At a passing glance, one might think her eyes blue or gray, perhaps even green, depending on the color of her clothing. Up close, though, these warring hues were offset by the brilliant ring of gold around her pupils.

This is pretty and all, but I'm going to skim through the rest of the description because it just doesn't justify that much wordcount.

In short, Celaena Sardothien was blessed with a handful of attractive features that compensated for the majority of average ones; and, by early adolescence, she'd discovered that with the help of cosmetics, these average features could easily match the extraordinary assets.

Honestly? I actually like this. I remember there being a lot of not-like-other-girls YA fiction in the '10s involving being effortlessly attractive without makeup, so it's nice to see a protagonist who doesn't do that. It's also a welcome change from how Feyre apparently didn't like makeup or dresses, but those pesky servants were always forcing it on her, so she had to go around being all pretty and girly.

"And you're Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's greatest assassin. Perhaps the greatest assassin in all of Erilea."

Did Maas just keyboardsmash to get these names? "Erilea" is just. Terrible.

He rested his elbows on his thighs. "I've heard some rather fascinating stories about you. How do you find Endovier after living in such excess in Rifthold?"

"such excess" you are a LITERAL PRINCE. And are you seriously asking her "how" she "finds" a slave mine???

Oh. Oh, I get it.

This is one of those stories where the love interest starts out spoiled and ignorant, and eventually finds out what atrocities his family perpetuated, and this actually matters to him because the protagonist was one of the victims and she turns out to be really hot, so then he does the bare minimum in rehabilitating his country and the protag forgives him and they bang.

Great.

#throne of glass #throne of glass negative #throne of glass critical #sjm negative #sjm critical #sarah j maas #hate reads #hate reading

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riddikulus-writings · 6 months ago

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Born To Run

FRISAL; 3ABY DAY 2; Early Morning Hours

Anaya Kesikki-Kenobi was an anomaly in and out of herself.

Born of two Jedi Masters almost at the peak of the Clone Wars, the woman whose apartment Cal was seated in should. not. exist. She does – obviously – but she seems to pretend that she doesn't. Anaya appears to keep to herself. Speak only when spoken to.

That much he’d been able to figure out in the few hours they’d been talking. Or, well, not talking, really. She’s quieted down in the twenty-some-odd years since he’d seen her last, and instead of actually speaking to him she simply regarded his existence in her dimly-lit kitchen with something akin to disinterest.

She’d led him and BD-1 to her apartment – constantly checking over her shoulder – let them inside and disappeared to a back bedroom for a while.

He knows what it’s like to live your life with your focus on who might be behind you

She’d come back out in loose pajamas with her light brown hair let down from the tight style she’d had it in. Then, she’d walked right past him, to the kitchen where they were now, and still hasn’t uttered more than a few single words to him this entire time, answering most of his questions with one or two short words if she spoke at all to answer them.

It made Cal feel like he’d done something wrong.

“How long have you lived here?” he tried.

Anaya hummed. Shrugged. Kept her back to him as she put together something to drink, “Few months.”

“The uniform?”

“Disguise.”

“Do you talk?”

“When there’s something to talk about,” she turned back to face him, holding two tall glasses of hot cocoa, “Otherwise VD isn’t much of a talker.” she slid onto the stool next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and pushed one of the glasses towards him, “You have to remember, Cal, the last time I saw you was when I was nine years old. You were a scary adult, I wasn’t about to try to be your best friend.”

“I was eighteen.”

“And I was a child whose entire childhood up to that point was forged on the fact I needed to keep to myself. I had – and still have – what is essentially crippling people anxiety. Seeing you now, after I’d thought you dead, feels weird. I barely talked to you then, and I’m not about to launch into my entire life’s story for you now because of it.”

“You could, though.” he would probably welcome it, hearing how she and her mother survived all these years. He couldn’t imagine what it could’ve been like, trying to raise a child that young while on the run, “Could you?”

“Not tonight, anymore. Bracca was fun, though. Chasing you through the scrapyards made my short time there less sucky. I never got to thank you for putting up with Koa and I.”

“Don’t mention it, Anaya. Do we know where Koa went?”

Anaya shrugged, “As far as I know, she’s got to still be there, poor thing.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Cal told her, “You knew she was…”

“Force Sensitive? Yes. I knew that the second I met her, and I was only a child. Mom told me, too, later on Jabiim when we found dad again. Mom was worrying about her, dad said it was probably for the best that she stayed hidden on Bracca. If she didn’t know she was Sensitive, no one else could’ve too.”

“Jabiim?” he'd heard of an incident there with Vader, two Jedi and an Inquisitor – he didn't even think that he knew those Jedi.

“That’s a long story,” Anaya smiled into her half empty cup, “Story for another time, Cal, don’t get me monologuing or we’ll never get some sleep.”

Cal was more of a nightscowl, anyway.

“When you went batshit crazy, tried to kill an Inquisitor, outed yourself as a Jedi, though? You put Bracca on such a harsh lockdown that mom and I had to sneak out almost the same day you did. That was hard to do. Took a lot of bribes.”

Cal’s heart sank. He quietly sipped his steaming drink to avoid the topic; he hadn’t been thinking about the others he’d have affected. Cal also tried to avoid looking at her, but Anaya had the same calm, cold look that her mother held and eventually he broke like he used to at the Temple when Master Kesikki would fix him with the same stare, “I am so sorry.”

Anaya’s cold exterior cracked and she began giggling, “It’s fine. Mom doesn’t blame you, and if you hadn't done it we would’ve never left and found dad again, and we’d probably all still be stuck on fucking Bracca. I should be thanking you, but fuck, man, there are other ways.”

Hearing the words mom and dad being used to describe not one, but two Jedi Masters is something that Cal is never going to get used to hearing, even after so many years since the Order had been essentially obliterated. Jedi Masters Valena Kesikki and the by-the-book Obi-Wan Kenobi? He shook his head and finished his drink, “Please, for the sake of my sanity, stop calling them that.”

“Oh, if Skywalker could have a secret love affair, so could anyone else. Stop being weirded out. I’m not going to call my parents by their first names” Anaya finished her drink, too, and made to stand up, “More?”

She gave him a look when he began sputtering about a Skywalker having a secret love affair– a look that clearly said not tonight and interrupted him, “Cal, more?”

He took a deep breath, “Yes, please.”

“Anyways,” she began, back to him once more, “Valena is alive and well, Kenobi got, uh… well, he’s gone. Passed. Saber’d to death, I suppose?” her voice went soft, “That’s why I’ve got half mom’s saber. She tried giving it up completely after he went and did that.”

“Sorry to hear.”

She turned to face him, again, “”s fine. He was old, anyway. Self-sacrificial bullshit and all. Mom’s trying to get all mopey about it. Gave me her weapon, sent me on my merry way. “I don’t need this anymore, Luck. Take it and put it to more use than I ever will.” her voice was overly-mocking, “Came back a couple months later with my own upgraded one and gave half her’s back. And then promptly fucked off again to live here for… reasons. Hungry?”

He ignored why a Jedi would want to live on Frisal, “Starving, actually,” Cal told her without even thinking, and mentally slapped himself for imposing, “If you’re offering, I don’t want to be rude.”

“You spent twenty minutes chasing me across town not even three hours ago. I don’t think you can get any more rude, Kestis.”

He snorted and fell into silence as he watched her rifle through her fridge. If it hadn’t been for her strikingly blue eyes and the telltale cheekbones she’d obviously gotten from her mother, Cal wasn’t sure he’d have even recognized her. Not even VD-237C – the Imperial spider-droid that he himself had helped Valena Kesikki bring to life during her short, two-year stint on Bracca – had helped him to realize he’d been chasing an old friend through the dark streets of Frisal. He pushed his hair back from his face, “So, why are you living here?”

“Kolphi Javal.”

“You know him?”

“I know of him, Cal,” Anaya paused, turning her head to half look at him over her shoulder, “Director of Engineering and Design for the Galactic Empire. I’m here to kill him.”

Cal leaned forward, folding his arms over her black-topped kitchen island, “Wouldn’t you know,” his tone was dry, “I am, too.”

She snorted. Even the spider next to his elbow that Cal had thought to be in rest mode made a noise close to a scoff [he was a tad offended that even a droid thought him a liar], “It’s against your Code to kill people. What are you really doing here?”

“It’d be against your Code, too, then, Kenobi,” Cal mentioned.

“Don’t throw me in with your lot,” she finally turned back to face him, toting a plate with two halves of a very thick sandwich, and two more cups of hot cocoa with her – one tucked half-assed between her elbow and ribs, about to spill over, “Mom tells me I was four years old when Order 66 happened. Too young to be trained. Too young to be considered a Padawan. Too young to be a legitimate Jedi. Half of this is mine, by the way, if you try to eat it I will not hesitate to hurt you.”

“Duly noted,” Cal picked half up and bit off a chunk, proceeding to speak through his mouthful, “You’ve made it further than a lot of Jedi I know. As far as I’m concerned, you are one. You’ve obviously had training,” through her own mouthful of food, Anaya gave him another look that conveyed a lot of emotion – she was really good at that – and Cal mentally slapped himself once more. She was raised by two of the best Jedi Masters he’d ever had the short pleasure of knowing. Of course she got training.

“Why are you trying to kill Kolphi?” Anaya licked some whipped cream off her lip, and then motioned towards her mouth with her finger, “Cal, you’ve got some…”

He swiped his sleeve over his mouth and laughed, “Thanks. If Kolphi gets taken out, the possibility of another Death Star happening gets pushed back a few years while the Empire scrambles for another engineer.”

“Ah,” she stood and moved towards the couch behind them, beckoning him with, “Same reason I’m here, then. Nice. Who’re you working for?”

“No one, right now,” he followed and fell onto the seat beside her, “You?”

“The Rebellion, duh. Mom’s like, top gun around there. Kinda. So I get all the fun missions.”

“Really?”

“No. Not really, anyway,” she swatted his elbow with a paper notepad, “She is well respected, though. Now, here, check this out,” she leaned forward and spread the notepad out over her coffee table – Cal briefly wondered why she didn’t have a holopad. Or why she didn’t have VD helping with projections – “I’ve obviously been trailing Javal for a hot minute and, honestly, I was beginning to wonder if I had the right guy. The most I ever see him do is drink cocktails and hang out with his homely, half-breed son.”

“Half breed?”

“Iavys Javal is a full-fledged Zabrak. Red skin, pink markings. Black hair down to her fuckin’ ass – wish my hair was that long. Yellow eyes and, like, I don’t know, eight little horns, I think? Full-bore, can’t-miss-her Zabrak. Kind of cute if you look past the fact that she’s married to an Imp. Their son is Orron. Looks like a human from afar, black hair, purple eyes. Four horns but he’s still got the red skin markings of a Zabrak, just really light on his skin. Easily spotted if you know that he’s half ‘n half. Surprised you didn’t know that.”

“I don’t… do family research before getting out and about.”

“Well, you should,” Anaya’s tone was matter-of-fact. She reached behind Cal, leaning over to click the table lamp on before continuing, “He’s got a basic routine of the same four bars, two that double as restaurants. And then on the weekends he likes the beach, boating if Iavys wants to come out, too. The guy doesn’t really seem like a threat, but he holds himself like an Imperial jackass, just the way he walks.”

“So he walks like everyone here?”

“It is an Imperial vacationing planet,” she shrugged, mostly to herself, and stood up, “‘s gettin’ late. Or, well… it’s like, what? One? Two, in the morning? Try to get some rest, yeah? We’ll reconvene when the sun is actually up. I know the best bar a few blocks from here, their cocktails are amazing.” Cal stood, too, stretching his back, preparing to head back to the Mantis. He took two steps, bent to collect BD, and stopped when Anaya spoke, “Oh, duh, you’d rather have the spare bedroom, right? Sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”

“What?”

“That’s where you were going, right?”

“No…? I was headed back to my ship.”

One of her eyebrows went up, “I have at least four places you could sleep here and you’d rather go back out, across town, and sleep in your ship?”

“I didn’t want to be a bother…” Cal felt a little guilty, now, for insinuating she didn’t want him staying in her apartment.

“You’re always going to be a bother, Kestis, now lay back down before I make you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Kenobi.”

“Keep it up and I just might,” she muttered, backtracking down the hall to what he assumed was her bedroom, “Other bed’s in this room –” she pointed to her left, “-- if you want it. I’m in here –” she nodded to her right, “-- bathroom is the door right behind me, it’s connected to both bedrooms, so do me a favor and close my door, too, when you’re in there. We’re not close enough friends for full frontal just yet. Turn the lamp off before you doze off. Let me know if you leave. I don’t want to be waking up in the morning thinking you got yourself kidnapped.”

Cal couldn’t help but laugh at how straightforward her sense of humor could be – obviously from her mother. He gave her a light, two-finger salute, “Will do. Thanks, Anaya.”

“Call me Naya or somethin’, would you? My full name is a mouthful.”

#Cal Kestis #Cal Kestis x OC #star wars #jedi: survivor #jedi: fallen order

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thevalueoffreestuff · 2 years ago

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Story: Week 1 Part 1 (Tom)

I couldn’t shake what the old man had told me. What did it mean? As I speed walk home after a cool fall overcast day at school, my mind keeps running over the same cryptic message. Would I really find something free that proves to carry value that I’ve never had before? Something under my nose, but not literally? Wait, maybe literally. I have no idea. As I make the final left turn of my walk onto the bike trail that leads into the back of my house, I’m starting to think that I was wasting my time thinking about a delirious old man that was rambling nonsense.

It wasn’t until later that night, while I was struggling to finish the bland chicken alfredo that my mother insisted I had to eat before leaving the table, when I was hit with another clue. As I reached down to sneak some of my pasta to Chelsea, the family dog, my eyes were drawn to the TV in the other room. To my surprise, the very same old man was being interviewed by a Global TV reporter about an upcoming garage sale where all the proceeds will go to paying for someone's cancer treatment. Dropping the fork, I leap out of my chair, narrowly missing Chelsea’s tail and race over to the TV. With my mother hot on my tail trying to send me back to living room jail, I plead with her to give me a second as I frantically type down the address. As she escorts me back to jail, I begin to spiral, thinking what could possibly be at the garage sale that would be worth incredible value.

Three more days pass by and it is finally the weekend. My normal speed walking has turned into a jog. I have to be the first one to that garage sale. The old man said the event starts at five so I only have two hours to make it there. According to Google, it should only take me fifteen minutes to get there by bike. I whip open the wooden gate to my back yard and when I get close to the back door, I launch my book bag at the steps. Chase, my younger brother, had kept up to me, obviously curious as to why I’m in such a rush. For a split second I question whether to tell him or not, but something inside tells me to keep it to myself. It is my mission, not his.

I check my chunky plastic purple watch and realize the time has come. In one big motion, I grab my now emptied bookbag, my iPod, and house keys. I brush past Chase and make my way to the door. Before anyone can interrogate me, I yell,

“I’ll be home for dinner at seven!”

“Where are you off to in such – “

The door slams and off I go to claim my fortune.

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harleyquilt · 2 years ago

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The Fire That Burns Us All (TouKen/KaneTou fic) - Chapter 3

Summary: Kaneki's presence has left Touka on edge, leaving her lost in her thoughts...

Words: 2236~

Notes: Wrote this in one go, so I hope it turned out well, lol. Schedule is quite chaotic right now, so we'll see when the next one comes out. Hopefully soon! I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter.

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

Thwack!

Breathing heavily, Touka raised her bandaged fists, her eyes locked on the swinging sandbag in front of her. The creaking of the chains, the shining lights of passing cars outside, the feeling of sweat clinging onto her skin - her intense focus drowned it all out. She kept on her toes, swaying back and forth, before twisting her body and throwing a kick against the sandbag, and then another, before landing three, quick blows with her fists. Thwack, thwack, thwack!

The Black Reaper. He had been there, at her shop, a trail of bloody footprints and decaying corpses following him from behind. And she had played the role of the charming, human waitress, practically begging the man to come by again. What was I thinking, Touka later hissed to herself, when left alone to her own, tortuous thoughts. It felt wrong to let such an opportunity slip through her fingers, she had thought, but once he had left, she felt sickened to her core, as if she needed a shower to wash away his glooming presence. It was not long after he left that Yomo came to help Touka with her shift, and though he could surely sense something amiss with Touka’s jittery movements and responses, he chose not to pry.

Having that investigator in her cafe, so close to her remaining loved ones, was a nasty reminder of what she was putting at risk with her pursuements. And now, she has jeopardised their safety further by luring the Black Reaper deeper into her own life. She had to hope that it would be worth it, that it would all work out in her favour. Yet, once the shop had closed and all was quiet, a sneaking chill caught hold of her with promises of inevitable tragedy. She had already lost so much, and she knew she could not afford to lose anyone else. Not again.

Grabbing the sandbag, she took a deep breath and wiped her brow, her hand slick with sweat. She stepped back and returned to her fighting stance, this time crouching closer to the ground to ready herself for a pounce.

She could see the Black Reaper, with his dark hair and pale, grey eyes that reminded her so vividly of a cold, lifeless winter. His slender, pale hands wrapped around her mug, the glint of light caught in his round glasses, hiding the dark shadows under his lowered eyes. His surprisingly broad shoulders, hunched up, and his lips, that were pressed firmly together whenever he wasn’t talking. All these small details burned themselves into her memory and now, looking ahead, she could see him standing there, cloaked with his obnoxious trench coat and moody expression. She could feel the rush of blood coursing through her veins as her eyes darken with the release of her kakugan.

Her limbs burned with anticipation, and gritting her teeth, she launched herself forward with inhuman speed, reaching her clawed hand out and swiping through the side of the sandbag. Straightening herself, she looked back, sand now spilling onto the floor and the sandbag slumping into an awkward, withered shape.

“Another one?” Touka turned and saw Ayato standing in the doorway with a raised brow. He tossed her a towel, which she caught and draped around her neck, dabbing away the sweat rolling down her temples. “I don’t have an infinite supply of those things, you know.”

“Sorry, I…” She brushed her bangs back, shutting her eyes and opening them again, reverting them back to their regular appearance. “I got carried away.”

“No shit.” He tutted and leaned against the doorway. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

He tutted again. “Don’t give me that, come on. You’re clearly pissed about something.” Touka sighed, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up. Ayato smirked. “You on your period?”

He quickly dodged her sudden kick, and then the second one. “Idiot! What’s wrong with you?! Go away and die!”

He leapt back just as she reached out for his collar, and with a pout and frown, she stepped back, throwing him the towel. Landing by his feet, he shrugged and picked it up, glancing back up at his sister.

“So, are you going to tell me? Did you fight with that old man again?”

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t concern you.” She huffed and leaned against the wall, which was cool against her warm skin. “Anyway, aren’t you busy with Aogiri? You should head back before Tatara makes a fuss.” He watched her for a moment, eyes narrowed.

“Are you having second thoughts about killing Arima Kishou?”

Touka stared at him and took another deep breath, shaking her head. “No. Not at all. We made a promise.”

“Yeah, but–” Turning his face away, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, meeting her eyes once again. “Right, yeah, we did. Still, if there’s anything that’s got you spooked, just tell me. We can figure it out from there.”

Touka smiled and stepped towards him, ruffling his hair. He batted her hand away and her smile faded away, her brows raised and lips parted. “You’ve gotten taller.” She smirked, then, pushing his forehead back with her fingers. “Otouto.”

. . .

The seasons were beginning to change, the summer heat turning crisp and air wet with oncoming rain. Clouds gathered in the horizon, like plumes of smoke marking the arrival of Autumn. Already, the sky was beginning to darken with the late afternoon, and with it came a cool breeze. Hinami shuddered and wrapped her cardigan tighter around her body.

“I told you to take your coat, idiot.” Ayato muttered, clearly hesitant to offer her his own. Hinami, however, smiled with rosy cheeks and laughed.

“You did, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think it would get so cold so quickly.” Hinami shrugged. A gust of wind blew by and she winced, pushing against the cold. Ayato tutted and tugged off his jacket and thrusted it into her arms. “Oh, but I can’t–”

“Take it already, damn it.” Reluctantly, she held the jacket and Ayato rushed ahead, Hinami looking between him and Touka with a perplexed uncertainty. Touka smiled and shrugged, both she and Ayato knowing he’ll be made fun of later for this awkward interaction.

“Guess you better wear it.” Touka held back her laughter and watched Hinami shyly drape the jacket over her shoulders, her cheeks reddening. Touka would have offered her own jacket in any other situation, and Ayato knew that, but it was worth holding back to watch him suffer. “That boy may have grown taller, but he’s still as hot headed as he was when he was younger.”

Hinami perked up then, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Is that so? Even as a child?”

“No, Ayato was very different when he was little.” Memories of Ayato following her with his small legs and holding her hand with his small, soft hands made her heart ache with bittersweet fondness. She smiled with a slight sadness and her eyes lowered, digging her hands into the pockets in her jacket. “He was scared of every little thing back then. He would always cling onto me, crying ‘nee-chan, nee-chan’.” Lifting her gaze, she snorted then. “I guess he still does that now, thinking about it.”

“As if!” Ayato yelled back from ahead. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Of course I know. You know it’s true.”

“Please.” He scoffed. “You’re the one who came crying to me at Aogiri, remember?”

“Quiet, dammit. Don’t announce it for the world to hear.” Her eyes darted around the street, expecting nearby shadows to jump out and reveal themselves to be the Reapers themselves. Ayato bit his tongue, but Hinami placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, onee-chan. I’d know if anyone was nearby.” She gave Touka a reassuring squeeze and Touka placed a hand on top of hers.

“I know, just…you can never be too careful.”

They continued to walk in silence after that, Ayato’s last words lingering in Touka’s mind. It was true, what he said; she had come to him crying, with her tail between her legs. She would never have admitted that joining Aogiri was the right choice, and even now, she refuses to call herself a member when in the safety of her cafe. Still, she had come to him with burning eyes and shaking steps, confessing that Anteiku had fallen and that their previous mentors were now dead at the hands of the CCG. Yomo had helped her and Hinami relocate, unwilling to allow her to throw her life away in an attempt to save those she once called family. Irimi. Koma. Yoshimura. But she found no peace those following nights, weeks, months, as her home turned to rubble alongside the life she had created amongst the humans. Yoriko was not someone she ever expected to see again, as if she too had died that night. She was left with nothing, with only Hinami and Yomo left to keep her company. Maybe it was not the wisest of choices, but she knew she had to see her brother again, if not for a brief moment of relief in knowing that he was still alive. That she had not left him to die, along with the rest.

When they met again, it was awkward, distant, and cold. Still, as she wept, the distance between them faded away, like a bad dream, and he gave her the best comfort he could give. He gave her a reason to keep on living. It was not a reason she would have abided by had he proposed it six months earlier, but things had changed. And with a heavy heart, she agreed, vowing herself away to a life of revenge. She and Ayato promised that night to help Aogiri destroy the CCG and remake the world, to be the ones to strike down the God of the CCG. Arima Kishou. Murderer of their parents, slaughterer of Yoshimura, destroyer of the lives of so many innocents. If anyone stood in their way, they’d strike them down until none were left to fight back. They knew, however, that this was not something they could achieve overnight. And so they would bide their time patiently, licking their wounds and building up their strength until the time was right to make their attack.

“We’re here.”

The cemetery was mostly empty, save for a few visitors paying their respects. Hinami linked her arm through Touka’s, clinging onto her tightly, and Ayato continued on ahead. It was not common for ghouls to have graves for their loved ones, much less for those that have been caught and butchered by the CCG. But following the attack on Anteiku, Yomo confessed that there had been a grave made for their parents many years ago. With a name as common as Kirishima, it was not likely anyone would notice the grave as anything suspicious. She had only visited it once before, but Hinami had encouraged both Ayato and Touka to not waste the opportunity to pay their respects. It was hard to deny her words, and so, they decided to make visits as a small group when they could.

The grave sat alongside the graves of other humans, the stone somewhat weathered, but still legible in its details. Touka brushed her hand over the Kirishima nameplate, watching Hinami place a small vase of hydrangeas onto the slab of stone. She was not sure what to think or say during these moments, or if she should do anything at all.

In the past, she would ‘pay her respects’ with the ring they had left behind. She would cling onto it during her darkest moments, and wiping her tears, she’d brush her fingertip over their engraved names and whisper the words aloud. It made them more real to her in her mind, their images threatened with her waning memory and lacking recollections.

Here, though, it felt different. It was more like a recognition of their presence, more than anything else, like a memorial more than a grave. Maybe because there never was a body or ashes to attribute the grave to. Maybe it was because both Hinami and Ayato were here to reminisce alongside her. Still, it lacked the heaviness that came when holding that precious ring, and in way, there was something refreshing to be felt here. As if she could still grieve for her parents without the pain and misery that came before.

“Sometimes,” Hinami began, her voice small and quiet. “I like to imagine all of our parents together somewhere. I don’t know if I believe in heaven or reincarnation, but wherever they are, I like to think they’re watching us. Protecting us.”

Touka smiled and wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I like to think so too, Hina.”

Resting her head against Touka’s shoulder, she takes a shaking breath and sniffles. “I miss them, onee-chan.”

“I know.” She squeezes her tightly. “I miss them too.”

The sky darkens with oncoming clouds, the rustling of decaying leaves growing louder with the strong gusts of Autumn winds. The call of crows could be heard in the distance, breaking through the chillness in the air. The night was near, and they knew they would need to leave soon. But they lingered, each quiet as they mulled over the thoughts going through their heads. Alone with the ghosts of their blood-soaked pasts.

#touken #kanetou #kaneki x touka #ken kaneki #touka kirishima #my wrtitng #fanfic #hinami fueguchi #ayato kirishima

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the-delta-42 · 2 years ago

Text

Nightmares

Chat slumped against a chimney breast, he, Ladybug, Ryuko and Viperion had been fighting a sword themed Akuma for the past

Ladybug felt a searing pain erupt on her face, her hands flying up to her eyes before she dropped onto one knee.

Swiftblade’s sword connected with Ryuko’s, before Ryuko kicked the akuma back and got between him and Ladybug. Viperion flinched as Ryuko was knocked aside, before Swiftblade raised his sword up, ready to kill Ladybug.

“Second Chance.” Viperion whispered, as he jumped back in time. He couldn’t fail. Not again. He HAD to succeed.

Viperion looked around, before grabbing Ladybug and pulling her out of the way. Swiftblade growled, before lunging towards them and impaling Ladybug and Ryuko and throwing them off the building. Viperion went to reset back to the safe point, before Swiftblade cut through his arm.

“Naughty, naughty!” Tutted the Akuma, before bringing the sword down onto Luka’s head.

Luka bolted upright, he breathed heavily and looked around. It was still dark and Juleka was asleep. It was just a nightmare.

“Kagami, you can let go now.” Said Marinette, only getting Kagami to grip her tighter and shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened but-”

“You died.” Kagami interrupted her in a small voice, “You kept dying, over and over and over.” Kagami’s voice cracked, “You were right, using the Snake was a terrible idea.”

“Hey, hey. You saved me. That’s what matters.” comforted Marinette, making Kagami look up at her.

Marinette’s throat was cut open and one of her eyes were missing. Kagami stared at Marinette in horror, before she screamed.

Marinette grabbed Kagami’s throat, “You saved me, that’s what matters.”

Marinette violently jerked Kagami’s head to the side.

Kagami tumbled out of bed and landed on a heap on the floor. Her room was dark, it was just a nightmare. Marinette was safe. Kagami repeated that mantra, before getting dressed and sneaking out the door. It wouldn’t hurt to check, would it?

Ladybug cried out in pain as she clutched her head.

"What did you do to her?" Ryuuko demanded as Chat knelt beside Ladybug as a fresh wave of pain flooded her nerves.

"I'm making her remember every time she has died, from Desparada to Swiftblade, every time she has fallen and one of you has reset the board, robbing her of her death"

Ladybug started to hack up blood, "Only I can stop it, when I am gone, she will be safe."

"CATACLYSM!" Chat launched himself at the Akuma, only for them to grab his wrist and slam it against Ryuko’s face. Killing her.

“RYUKO, NO!” yelled Adrien, waking up in a cold sweat.

He looked around his room, it was dark. It was just a nightmare, wasn’t it?

“You’re not laughing at my jokes.” Said Chat Noir.

“We have an Akuma that is making people disappear, Viperion and Ryuko are down, and Rena and Carapace have vanished, so I’m sorry that I’m a little pre-occupied at the moment.” Said Ladybug, shortly.

“I don’t know why you are acting so serious.” groused Chat.

“Because one of us has to!” snapped Ladybug.

The pair looked at each other, shocked. “I…” Ladybug trailed off.

“No, I see how it is.” Snarled Chat, before pulling the ring off.

Ladybug couldn’t see Chat’s face clearly.

“No, Chat, please!” Begged Ladybug, as Chat walked away and threw himself off the edge of the building they were standing on, “Please, don’t leave me.”

Marinette gasped and jumped out of bed. She rushed to her desk as quietly as she could and checked the miracle box. The miraculous she’d reclaimed after the ‘fetch’ incident were all accounted for, except the Rabbit, Butterfly, Peacock and Cat. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief and slumped down in her chair.

It was just a nightmare.

"Oh my God, they killed Marinette!" Screamed Alya.

Marinette folded her arms and loudly cleared her throat.

“Mari, you’re alive!!” yelled Alya, relieved as she tightly hugged Marinette.

“Don’t worry, Al. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” reassured Marinette, hugging back.

Alya drew back and froze in horror, as both of Marinette’s eyes were missing, one of her ears was handing off and her left cheek was torn open.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Gurgled Marinette, before plunging her arm into Alya’s chest, “You still have me.”

Alya felt something hit her cheek, she blinked and found Nora towering over her. Alya burst into tears, making Nora pull her close.

“It’s alright, Als,” Soothed Nora, as their mother appeared in the doorway, “It’s alright, it was just a bad dream.”

Nino looked up as Adrien, Marinette and Alya entered the classroom. They looked like they hadn’t gotten any sleep, he’d heard Juleka saying that Luka wasn’t any better. Adrien dropped into the seat next to him.

“You alright, bro?” Asked Nino, as Adrien groaned.

“No, I’ve been awake since two because a really vivid nightmare.” Confessed Adrien, “I dreamt that I’d killed someone, I wasn’t able to get their face out of my head.”

“Same, but mine was that I drove someone to suicide.” Said Marinette, making the boys look up, “I had Kagami knocking on my door because she had a nightmare that I’d died.”

“That happened with me, too.” Said Alya, “It was horrible, Nora had to wake me up.”

“Luka had a nightmare where he was killed.” Said Juleka, making them jump, “Maybe there’s an Akuma that makes nightmares.”

“You mean like Sandboy?” Asked Marinette, resting her head on the table.

Juleka nodded.

Marinette groaned and dropped her head onto the table.

Knightmare looked down at the city. With a satisfied hum, they turned around and went to fly off. A yoyo suddenly hooked around their leg, yanking them down to earth. Knightmare was barely able to look up, before the combined fists of Ladybug and Chat Noir hit them in the face, breaking their object in the process. Revealing a group of five crying toddlers.

Ladybug and Chat Noir stared at the crying quintet.

“I suddenly feel like the worst person in existence.” Said Chat, getting a nod from Ladybug.

The pair slowly made their way towards the toddlers, Ladybug crouched in front of one of the toddlers and, before she could say anything, they surged forwards and clung to her like a koala. Ladybug looked over at Chat and found he was in a similar situation.

“Okay,” Grunted Ladybug, heaving the three toddlers on her into her arms, “let’s find their parents.”

After half-an-hour later, Ladybug found that the children had been shown a horror movie by their babysitter. Ladybug and Chat Noir both stared down at the cheques the parents had handed them.

“How…are we supposed to cash these in?” Asked Ladybug, looking up at Chat.

“Take it into the bank and ask for cash?” Yawned Chat, shoving the cheque in a pocket, “I’m goin’ to sleep.”

Ladybug found herself yawning, before following him, “I think I’ll join you.”

Chat found a tree near his school and settled at the root, with Ladybug flopping over him. Within seconds, both heroes were asleep and unconsciously cuddling together.

And that was how Alya found Marinette and Adrien an hour later.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #juleka couffaine #akumatized characters #Caline Bustier's Class #Akuma Class #delta writes

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prose-for-hire · 3 years ago

Text

Kiss me quick

Pairing: Spike x Summers!reader

Request: Hi! Can I request a Spike x Summers!reader, where the reader is trying to keep their relationship on the downlow since none of the Scoobies really approve, but after a big win the reader finally kisses him in front of everyone, proving that they do care deeply for one another and everyone just has to accept it.

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Reader gets injured but nothing serious. sex references/implication of sex.

You looked out into dimly lit street, the dark had surrounded you now but ever since you had been meeting this way you couldn’t help but smile whenever the sun began to descend from the sky. You were stood, under a streetlamp, three streets away from your house. Just far enough where nobody from your household would catch you meeting him this way. You had been meeting like this for a while now.

He got a kick out of coming up behind you and immediately pressing you against the nearest wall and crashing his lips to yours. His favourite greeting entailed leaving you breathless and ready to pull him closer no matter what your surroundings were. He often mumbled his hellos through stolen kisses. His passion never died, he was all in. Completely yours.

You couldn’t shake this feeling. That you were completely in love. You had silently tried to fight it to begin with, knowing that those around you wouldn’t approve. That Spike himself may not even reciprocate your feelings. But soon it became clear that there was no hiding these feelings that always bubbled to the surface whenever he was near.

You had started fooling around to begin with, before it all changed. For the better, both of you agreed. Your feelings had taken hold of you both, fuelled by the touch of skin. The depth of mind. Unspoken emotions kept the two of you in a chokehold before you finally spilled your feelings for the other.

Ever since you quit college, you had spent all of your free time sneaking around with Spike. It was, honestly, as thrilling as it was annoying. As much as you wished you could just tell everyone how much you loved Spike - how amazing he was with you, you couldn’t. You had to hide it, the implications of your friends and sisters finding out would be a fate worse than death. In fact, for spike it may mean actual death this time.

Unfortunately, you were the middle child. You were a year younger than Buffy and she never let you forget about it. Meaning, Buffy thought she was the boss of you. Not to mention Dawn basically clung onto your leg to stop you from leaving the house (and thus, preventing you leaving her behind where she couldn’t follow you around). This meant that, often, you didn’t get much spare time for sneaking around with Spike. But, God, did you make it your biggest priority. After… saving the world… obviously.

When you did manage to share these intimate moments, it was everything. It felt as if you were the only people in the world. The only people that had ever felt anything close to this. Nobody had loved this deep. Cared this much. You were both so sure. These feelings, they were eternal. He vowed it to you, one early morning you had spent with your naked bodies pressed together, baring your souls well into the night.

Any emotional scars you harboured seemed to heal just by speaking to him. By having that soothing voice share his own darkest moments with you in return. How that voice, those eyes could have seen and done so much and still make you feel undeniably safe you weren’t sure. But, you trusted him. Even if danger appeared to surround him at every turn. You wouldn’t change him for anything. You loved the good, the bad and the oh-so-attractive parts of him.

Vulnerabilities turned to strengths when you were together. Rough edges appeared smoother. Promises held meaning. You adored him and he confessed to you that he had never been so comfortable in a relationship. He could be himself, could express his feelings without being concerned you would turn away from him.

The first night you invited him into your home made him elated. You had to make him swear not to tell Buffy because you knew she wouldn’t take it well. Like, at all. As much as he would have loved to rub it in the slayer’s face that he had been given access to her house – he loved you too much to even think to upset you in this way. So, you carried on this way, unable to keep your hands and lips from each other for more than an evening at a time. This meant mostly, he stayed at the Summer’s residence or you left to the crypt. Sometimes, you even went for real dates – so long as you were sure that everyone else you knew would be busy elsewhere.

Tonight, you were going to the Bronze together. It was a little more of a risk than usual, but he had insisted on taking you somewhere he knew you would enjoy. Muttered something about not keeping you in the shadows before taking your hand and leading the way. The truth was, Spike was in fact just very smitten with you. And he pretty much wanted everyone to see that you were with him. This was ‘everyone’ except the scoobies and any family members you happened to have crawling out of the woodwork. It was safe though, everyone else was going to some college party and Buffy had told you that it was uncool to have her younger sibling come along.

Buffy was the only one that viewed you as the ‘younger sibling’ the others were friends with you because they were fond of you. Because, well, sometimes you appeared more mature than Buffy did – not that they would ever say that to her face. Although there was always that slight worry that if they hadn’t been friends with Buffy they wouldn’t have been as close with you. You were barely a year younger than Buffy but she was still incredibly protective of you as she was the oldest.

What you hadn’t banked on, whilst you rubbed Spike’s thigh under the table, was that Xander hadn’t been invited to the party. He saw you immediately and made his way over to you with Anya close behind. You almost choked on your drink as you saw them come up behind Spike. You snapped your hand away in shock much to Spike’s displeasure.

“Hey, Y/n-” he started and then stopped when he saw Spike’s presence, “He bothering you?”

“No, he’s just-”

“Warming you up, right pet?” His eyes glistened as he spoke, an eyebrow raising which made Xander scowl. You tried your best to hide the smile at your boyfriend’s words as Xander looked between you both. Xander liked to think of himself as your older brother and had decided you needed defending. You opened your mouth to say otherwise but ended up being cut off by a very urgent ex-vengeance demon.

“It doesn’t matter that they’re dating right now, we are all going to get ripped into pieces if the demon finds us!” Anya shouted. You hadn’t been as secretive as you thought then.

“An!” Xander hissed, sharing a look. At the exact same time you and Spike shared a look too. You wondered who else had seen straight through your sneaking around and longing glances you shared through scooby meetings.

You were sharing looks for different reasons though. They had obviously discussed what not to say beforehand and Anya had characteristically ignored his warning. There was some kind of demon threatening the town. Again.

“What’s going on, Xander? Anya?” you tried for your ex-vengeance demon friend when Xander didn’t speak. There was definitely something odd going on. At her name being called, despite Xander’s warning, she launched into an explanation.

“Xander got annoyed at our sex-spell and ripped a page out of my very rare copy of ‘magic, sex and me’ which ruined our entire evening!” She scowled and crossed her arms before continuing, “Now we have to kill it instead of having our sexy time” she pouted.

“We’ll pretend we didn’t hear about a sex spell-”

“Well, I want to hear about it. Can’t get it up, mate?” Spike taunted which only made Xander redden further after Anya’s admittance. Xander stepped as if to hit your vampire but you stepped in the way and wheeled Xander away, changing the subject.

You asked instead about what this demon was like. Anya explained that it was a Scorn-demon. Ridiculously hard to kill and bound to the pages of a book as no mortal prison can hold it. It looked as if you were in for a long night. Which is exactly what you and Spike had planned although for a very different reason.

“If all of us are looking, we’ll find it quicker” You offered, Xander had been embarrassed to explain because of the reason they were doing a spell. But now Anya had told anyone anyway, he was grateful of the help. You got to your feet, ready to follow them out as Spike got up beside you.

“Looks like no bugger’s getting any tonight” Spike muttered, rolling his eyes as you apparently volunteered you both to assist your friend.

“Just working ourselves up… right?” You offered which made him smirk. God, he had been rubbing off on you. You almost felt yourself mirroring his smirk at your words. He wanted to pull you in and kiss you until you admitted just his presence could get you worked up enough alone, but he knew the importance of hiding this from your friends. Which, really was the only reason he didn’t take you right there in the middle of the Bronze.

Instead, you just trailed behind Xander and Anya’s bickering and tried to locate this demon. You called Buffy’s cell and left a message. You knew this was probably going to end with a battle you were unequipped for. You just hoped that you ran into your sister before you ran into the demon. By all accounts he sounded nasty.

As you walked, you and Spike kept sneaking glances at the other when you hoped the others weren’t looking. It was hard, having to maintain this distance when all you wanted to do was reach for him. Show him your affection freely. When you caught the other’s eye, you couldn’t help but smile. You felt so lucky, to have someone that cared so deeply. Someone who wasn’t afraid to share their love so freely.

You wanted to slide your hand in his, tell him just how lucky you felt. Just how much you felt for him, although you were sure he must be sick of how often you told him you loved him. He never was, of course. It was the sweetest music hearing that phrase from your lips. He kissed them a thousand times just to catch the remaining sweetness from your tongue. With those words, nothing should be wasted. He wanted to savour every syllable of your love.

You kept walking until you had to come to an abrupt halt. Dawn turned a corner and crashed straight into you. Turns out, your hopes came true: you did come across your sister first. It just happened to not be the one you expected.

“Oh, I didn’t know you guys were ready for, like, double dating yet” Dawn teased. She, too, had decided that you and Spike had to be dating. She often brought it up to annoy you but she believed it all the same. Spike never corrected her and you had stopped bothering too. You would only come off as defensive and she would tease you for that. You honestly couldn’t win living under the same roof as Dawn, she could be relentless.

Spike leaned in to whisper something in your ear, his lips so close to your ear you could imagine the way they would feel if he leaned in further and pressed against your skin. You smiled at his comment, he always made you laugh. He liked to hear your laugh and it passed the time while he waited for the fight that was coming.

When you looked back up, Willow and Tara had caught up with your group. They gave you a knowing look at how close you were stood to Spike. You wanted to lean on him, inhale deeply and press kisses against the curve of his neck. You loved the way he gripped you closer when you did that. But you had to snap yourself out of this thought at the arrival of your sister. Buffy immediately started giving orders, not before she gave you a warning look for letting Dawn come with you after she scowled at Spike for his mere presence.

“I brought the research – I think there’s a spell, but we’ll have to weaken him first” Willow muttered, frowning at Anya and blaming her for this spell and putting her best friend in danger.

“The spell needs lovers to complete it. Do you think you could help us Anya? Xander?” Tara asked softly, “But I’m not sure if that’s enough to hold him”

Because the demon was attracted to love and sex, couples were needed to cut off his power at the source. It fed from lovers and by concentrating that power it could reverse and thus weaken the demon within a certain spot.

“Well, if we need couples we have at least three pairs here. Maybe that would be enough?” Willow asked. Making everyone look around to count the pairs. Everyone’s eyes then landed on you and Spike. The last to look was Buffy who raised an eyebrow between you both.

“Does everyone know we’re dating?!”

“Pretty much, sweetie” tara nodded.

“We just didn’t wanna embarrass you. It’s… Spike” Buffy cringed at even the thought of it, “I, uh, thought you would have kinda got it out of your system by now though” Buffy hitched her nose up at the idea of the two of you, but shrugged. She saw it as a meaningless relationship. The kind she had with Parker in her first year of college but more often.

From what you gathered as they didn’t correct her, nobody really thought Spike capable of any kind of meaningful relationship. And with him not being able to actively harm you, they just decided to avoid the topic entirely until one or both of you got bored of the sex. The only one that hadn’t thought anything of your sudden proximity with Spike every time he turned around, was Xander. He really would have said something if he had known. But he still wasn’t convinced now – no matter how often Anya insisted.

You slid your hand into his, now that everybody appeared to know that you were together at least. He smiled at this, looking down at your hands back to your face. This smile, it was softer than he would usually show in front of the Scoobies, it was one only for you. Where he felt such genuine happiness. Such adoration.

As usual, nobody really wanted to discuss your love life (rather just ignore and hope it went away) and so began to look away from you and discuss the demon again. You began following the trail of destruction. He wasn’t so hard to locate really and Buffy immediately attacked him as Willow and Anya set up in a large triangle around the fight. Each couple was at each point of the triangle as the recital occurred. A flash of light surrounded the demon and Buffy before it faded, showing the demon now fighting sluggishly.

You tried to protect Dawn the best you could while Spike and Buffy took it in turns to throw punches at the now marginally weakened demon. You and the others helped when you could but he was so strong even now the spell had worked, that humans barely affected him.

Somehow the demon broke from Spike’s hold and started for Dawn - who he had sensed as the weaker member of your group. You charged in front of your younger sister to try and distract him. This lead to him twisting you and throwing you into the air and crashing into a nearby storefront. You were flung straight against the wall and hit your head quite badly. He watched you falling like a ragdoll, appearing limp due to the blow.

His gut dropped. He left Buffy to the fight. All that mattered now was that you were okay. He had never been so scared. Spike rushed over to you, dropping to the floor so that he could cradle your head in his lap. There were a few seconds where he didn’t know what to do.

But then just as he thought he may have lost you, hope was restored again. You open your eyes, your smile a little dazed as you looked at him from your position in his lap. He looked up to the sky in relief, as if silently thanking the powers. His eyes danced with emotion as he looked back into yours. He wouldn’t know what he would do without you. Couldn’t even imagine it less his heart would begin to ache with phantom loss.

He was so overcome by the thought of losing you that he immediately caught your lips with his. Pouring every single feeling he had ever experienced for you into that one kiss. His hand cupping your cheek, the other on the small of your back – pressing you closer to him. As if this kiss may well be your very last. You reciprocated without hesitation, your lips felt as if they had been moulded just for this very moment. This kiss, it said everything. Promised everything and you smiled into it. Your lips moving against his urgently, insisting he feel your love for him. Even in your weakened state, all of your energy went into kissing him.

In the same moment, Buffy managed to finally slay the beast and Tara and Willow muttered some words that sent him into the book he would now again call home. Buffy whipped around to catch you both kissing so desperately. The rest of the group stopped still and staring too. Every mouth agape in shock. At just how much you appear to feel for the other. This wasn’t just a quick shag when the feeling struck. One wasn’t taking advantage of the other. This was love. The truest kind. And nobody could deny it now, not even Xander.

After you parted, reluctantly on both parts, he took on your weight as you all walked back, everyone except him in silence. He doted on you, pressing a kiss against your temple every few paces – just because he could now in this company. He wanted to offer you all of the comfort he could. He was whispering to you trying to make sure you didn’t fall asleep. He was sure you had a concussion (I mean, you kissed him that way in front of all of your friends without any worries after all).

Buffy didn’t even object when it appeared that Spike was walking their way home. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Everyone could see just how deeply you cared for each other. It was undeniable, even to your older sister.

Spike was just pleased you would make it and be okay. And… he began to get smug that he was finally able to show the slayer that he could access her house this entire time.

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