#didn't realize how sought after i was until a few years ago like. use your words! i dont flirt i treat everyone like this be direct!

[finnstansonly]

the way i really have never known someone was interested in me except for the 2 times a boy was literally obsessed w me, one of which was to the point of like. harassment.

[lovelylovelyanon]

First Dates

Chapter Two: Boys Go to Jupiter.

12 YEARS AGO

It's Ali. Not Alice, not Allison, Ali. At least, that's what the little spitfire of an eleven-year-old had always said. She was a redhead with freckles, a little heavier set than her peers, and she was...feisty, to say the least. Always the "punch first, ask questions later" type, little miss Ali Kendrick found herself in Principal McEwan's office once again. The tired-looking woman sighed before donning her glasses to read over the incident report.

"Ali, this is the fourth time you've instigated a fight this week. It's Wednesday morning." The principal was overwhelmed, rubbing her temples as she spoke. Ali just sat there, her arms crossed and her face screwed into a look of anger. Not regret, not remorse, anger. It was true that she'd hit Kyle Miller square in the nose, and it was true that she'd wiped the blood from her fist onto his shirt. She wasn't angry she got caught, she was angry she didn't hit him harder.

"You know I have to call your mother, Ali." McEwan sighed when Ali said nothing in return, dialing her mother's phone number. Mrs. Kendrick was there in ten minutes, striding into the office in her scrubs, cap in hand.

"Go to the car, Ali." Ali knew she was in trouble. Her mother had that look in her eye and the stiffness in her shoulders. She was about to get an earful.

Her mother got into the family van, slamming the door with more force than necessary. She sighed before tucking a chunk of stray hairs behind her ear.

“Alayna Mae, explain yourself." The young girl cringed at the use of her full name, sighing before telling the story of why she felt the need to give Kyle the bloodiest nose of the century.

"No wonder no one likes you, it's because you're weird!" Kyle was pointing at her and laughing as her face grew redder and redder with every word. She had single-handedly gotten first place for her team in a competition during math class, causing Kyle's team to lose. The second the class had made it outside for recess, Kyle had immediately sought her out with his gang of misfits. She knew what was coming; Kyle Miller wasn't one who took losses with grace. Ali had warned him. She'd told him to leave her alone. He and his friends just continued to spit the same insults of "weirdo" and "nerd."

She didn't realize she'd actually swung at him until her fist made contact with his nose. As his friends scurried away Kyle cried and yelled, getting the attention of a nearby teacher and earning her a lovely sit-in with Principal McEwan.

"Paul's not going to like that you're still getting into fights again, Ali." Ali rolled her eyes as her mother referenced her "stepfather." Her mother had met Paul at work shortly after divorcing Ali's father. He was a psychologist, and a pretty bang up one at that. He was always telling Ali that she needed to "express feelings in healthy ways" and "talk through things instead of harming people." What a joke.

"How was Fight Club?" Ali was surprised to see her stepbrother sitting on their family sofa when she walked through the front door. Freddie was fifteen and had a record of fighting that mirrored his stepsister's, picking fights at the same rate as her.

"Freddie! Room, go." Paul dismissed his son, waiting until the teenager had made it completely up the stairs before turning to start in on Ali. He stared at her for a few seconds, his fingers flying to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"You, too. Room, Ali." She waited until she was out of sight before proceeding to roll her eyes. Who did Paul think he was? Certainly not her dad, she had one of those. Sure, he only called once a week, but he was abroad, whatever that meant. He sent her gifts and trinkets from all the places he'd traveled to and sent her a post card every time he went somewhere new. That was one of the reasons her parents divorced; her dad had wanted to travel, but her mom's job wouldn't allow it. When Ali's mother chose being a surgeon over her father, he left. No note, no message, just gone. Ali understood, sometimes she wished she could disappear like that, too.

Her boredom was interrupted by Freddie knocking on her door, letting himself in to sit on her bed next to her.

"You get in a fight, too?" He only nodded at her question, and it was then that she got a glimpse of his growing black eye. Some might see that as a sign that he lost, but Ali knew how her stepbrother fought. She knew he'd won. And she would've hated to see the other guy.

"Dad's pissed, I'm suspended for a week." Ali nodded, not really understanding what he meant by suspended. They sat there in silence for what felt like forever until they were called down to dinner.

PRESENT

The car ride home from yet another terrible date felt like it took years. As she pulled into the parking garage of her apartment complex, Ali contemplated whether or not dating was even worth it. No no, she was young, she had to keep trying. At least, that's what her mother said almost daily.

The stairs were awful in her heels, and she prayed to whatever god there was and begged that the maintenance man would fix the elevator soon. She tiredly shoved her key into the lock before shouldering her door open and throwing her keys into the bowl in the entry way. She checked her phone for the first time in the last two hours and found a voicemail from her stepbrother. She pressed play on the message.

"Hey, Al. I'll be in town tonight and thought I'd see if you wanted to grab a drink or something. We need to talk, it's about Dad. Call me when you can, love ya sis."

Her face scrunched in concern as she immediately found his contact and hit the call button. It rang four times before his voice sounded on the other end.

"Ali Caaaaat, how are ya?" She knew he'd been drinking; she could hear it in his voice and thought she could smell it through the phone. She let out a sigh before responding.

"Hi, Freddie. Where are you?" She plugged the ear not against her phone as sounds filled the background of the call, her mind decoding them as the music and clamor from her favorite bar.

"Oh, ya know, just up at Kelly's. Wanna come? I could-I could buy you a drink." His words were repeatedly interrupted by drunken burps and the occasional hiccup. She sighed once again before retrieving her keys and changing into her comfy tennis shoes; she had a feeling she'd be doing some carrying, which would be impossible in her heels.

"Stay there, Fred. I'm on my way." She exited the apartment and beelined for the stairs, worried she had a limited amount of time before Freddie took flight.

"You got it, sis. Roger that. Aye aye cap-" She cut the call before he could come up with anymore affirmative phrases, hopping in her car and taking the all-too familiar streets to the one place other than her apartment that felt like home.

As Ali walked in, she was directed by Luke the bartender to where her unofficial sibling had planted himself. He sat on a barstool on the very end of the bar, looking as if he would fall off at any moment. She approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. He all but toppled into her arms, his large stature engulfing her body. His embrace brought the strong scents of beer and campfire, the latter a result of his exhausting job as a fireman. As Freddie hugged her, he lifted her up off the ground, causing Ali to let out a small yelp.

Ali finally broke free of the suffocating embrace, her eyes landing on the seven empty bottles of a cheap beer with the eighth being in her stepbrother's hand. She gently removed the bottle, placing it next to him.

"Let's get you home, Freddie. Luke!" She called to the bartender and handed him her card, requesting he closed Fred's tab. She then slid her head under his left shoulder, slinging his arm around her shoulders that now seemed inadequate for the task at hand. Fred was a relatively large guy, clocking in at 6 foot 2 and 250 pounds. Huffing, she ducked her head under and snapped in Freddie's face.

"Hey big guy, come on now. I need ya to stand. Please, Freddie. Come on." Her words and slight rocking of his shoulder seemed to do nothing. She sighed in defeat, waving the bouncer, Eric, over.

"Need help there, little lady?" Eric flashed her an award-winning smile, and Ali would have found him attractive had she not been close friends with both him and his wife. She motioned with her thumb towards her stepbrother, who was now face down and snoring.

"Can't carry this deadweight all by myself. Figured you could use the exercise." She sniggered at her own joke, taking the affectionate punch Eric gave to her shoulder.

"What, strong gal like yourself can't handle it?" As Eric spoke, he positioned himself the same way Ali had earlier, though he found it a lot easier to actually pick Freddie up. Ali just laughed and shook her head, leading Eric towards her car parked right outside the bar's front door. She opened the car's passenger door and helped the bouncer gently settle her stepbrother into the seat, gently closing the door. She made her war around to the driver's side before giving Eric a fist bump.

"Thanks for your help, see ya tomorrow night!" The look on Eric's face told Ali that he'd forgot that he and his wife were having dinner with her at her apartment. He finally realized nodded, opening and closing her car door for her. She gave a final wave as she drove away, backtracking on the streets that led her home.

She didn't realize what a mistake she made until she parked her car into its usual spot in the parking garage. How in the hell was she going to carry this man up three flights of stair by herself? She couldn't even get him out of the bar!

Her question soon answered itself as Freddie began waking up, seeming a bit more sober than he had been. He groaned as his eyes opened, blearily searching the car he found himself in. It wasn't long before he looked to his left and saw his stepsister with her arms crossed, her face plastered with a sour expression. Freddie let out a small snicker, causing Ali to look at him.

"What's so funny?" Ali's expression turned even more sour, making Freddie laugh even more.

"Nothin', Al. You just look like your mom, is all." Ali rolled her eyes at his words, a punch landing good and hard on the older man's shoulder.

"Just for that, Fred, you can walk up the stairs all by yourself."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

A/N:

Ok, what do we think? First full chapter! I'm crazy about the story I have mapped out in my brain, and I can't wait to share the rest of it with all of you!

Love you always,

LLA

[gojo-satoru-brainrot]

I Don’t Want a World Without You. Eren Jaeger x Reader

Request from @shittypaperwork

A/N: This took me forever to write this. I wanted it to be perfect. I really hope it is. Also, my asks are open for AOT smut (Disclaimer I do prefer to write in Canon Au but not opposed to writing Modern AU if I like the idea.) , Jujustu Kaisen smut. But please enjoy!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!!, slight breading kink ig, name calling, slight Dom!Eren. Unprotected sex, Canon AU,

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Your friendship with Eren was unlike any relationship you had experienced before. You both joined the Scouts after the attack on Wall Maria. You both bonded over the losses you both endured that day. Eren sought out revenge on the Titans. His hatred and rage fueled his desire to become a better soldier. You wanted a better understanding of the outside world. Why all the memories came fooling back in the middle of a titan ambush you had no idea why. A giant hand came out from the shadows of the forest directly aiming for you. You didn't have much time to react before Eren swooped in and grabbed you.

"(Y/N) you need to pay more attention," Eren said right before the titan grabbed the wire to his ODM gear causing him to fall to the ground several hundred feet below.

"Eren," you screamed out. Your heart pounding in your chest as you locked eyes with the titan. Suddenly, a red hot burning sensation rushed through your chest and up your face. Tears started to form in your eyes as you maneuvered around the giant trees. Finally finding a vantage point, you zipped over the titan and your blades cutting deep into its nape. It fell to the ground dust and debris flying above its lifeless body. The feeling still stuck in your chest, but it was different something lingered beneath the surface. You located Eren, and you looked at him the feeling became stronger as you watched him lay there, blood dripping from his head on the ground under him.

You were irrevocably in love with him.

There was no time to confess to him your newfound feelings. He needed to get the infirmary. The more you realized your feelings for him, the more you realized it would never work. This world was unfair and unforgiving. There was no room in the world for love let alone a relationship, or that's what you told yourself. The pain you would feel if Eren didn't reciprocate your feelings would tear you apart inside.

Two weeks had passed since the ambush in the forest and your feelings had remained the same, in fact, they had gotten stronger. Your whole squad had made it back alive, which you were grateful for. Eren was rushed to the infirmary due to his extensive injuries. You didn't sleep most nights so you would sneak down to see Eren. You held his hand and changed out his bandages being very careful not to wake him.

"(y/n), you have to let him rest," quickly turning around you saw Armin standing in the doorway.

"It's my fault this happened," the tears started to swell up in your eyes. Armin grabs your hand leads you outside.

"B-but Eren," you stammer looking back at him.

"He's going to be fine while you're gone". You looked up at the night sky, gazing at the stars above you. It was late, you didn't realize until now. How long have you been sitting by Eren? An hour? Maybe five. A cool breeze hits your face as you sit down beside Armin on the bench just outside the infirmary.

"You're so concerned about Eren. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're acting like Mikasa," he laughs. You chuckle slightly. You had been so wrapped up in making sure that Eren was okay that you had forgotten what it feels like to relax. Memories of you and Eren flood your mind.

"Armin there's something I need to tell you. I can only trust you with this information," the blonde turns to look at you.

" I'm in love with Eren". Armin's face gets all red and he turns away.

"So why are you feeling me this? Shouldn't you be telling Eren?"

"Because it would never work out the way I want".

Eren was finally recovered enough to leave the infirmary, but he was strictly prohibited from any training, missions, and extraneous activities. You have been avoiding him for days, unable to come to terms with your feelings you thought it best to stay away.

"You're eventually going to have to tell him you can hide from your feelings forever," Armin said to you quietly.

"Shut up, Armin," you punched his shoulder just a little too rough. He winches in pain, and you touch his arm.

"Sorry." You start to blabber about how you're used to hitting Eren because he can take a hit. You didn't realize Armin was trying to tell you that Eren was right behind you. A slight punch suddenly hits the middle of your back causing you to fall forward into Armin's chest. You turn around quickly to see you hit you. Your eyes lock with Eren's, trying to speak, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His green eyes peer into yours. It feels like your entire being is melting into the palm of his hand.

"Shouldn't you be picking on someone your own size," Eren smirks at you.

"Uhhh," you fumble your words trying to form a comprehensible sentence but fail.

"I gotta go!" You said quickly as you darted off somewhere far away from Erin and Armin.

Finally catching your breath you stood in front of the shower house you are reminded of a prank you pulled on Eren just a few months ago.

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

It had been a long day of combat training and Eren was the first to use the shower, like always. Connie dared you to sneak into the men's showers and take Eren's clothes and hide them in a nearby bush.

"Easy! You should come up with a harder one next time," you smirked knowing this was going to be way simple. Quietly you snuck in being extremely careful not to slam any doors. You glanced around trying to find Eren's clothes, the steam from the showers making it hard to see. Stumbling into one of the benches close to the showers.

"Fuck that hurt."

"Hello? Who's there?" You heard Eren call out. Your heartbeat quickened as you heard the water turn off.

shit shit shit where are they?

Finally, you found the clothes tucked away under the bench. You guessed this isn't the first time this happened to him. You balled up his clothes and ran out. The steam made your hair stick to your forehead as you threw his clothes in a bush.

"Nice going (y/n)!" Connie gave you a high-five. Both of you waited for Eren to realize his clothes were missing, but to both of your surprises, Eren walked out of the showers butt-ass naked with only one of his hands covering his goods. Your jaw dropped at the sight of him the sunlight made his wet skin glisten. He shook out his hair causing water droplets to scatter around him. You followed the water as it dripped down his toned chest and pass his carefully carved abs. Your eyes followed the v line just below his abs.

"My eyes are up here! Now, where did you put my clothes, darling?" Eren steps closer to you feeling the heat radiate off him from his shower. Your mouth stayed agape and all you could do was point over to the bush. He made his way over not bothering to cover his ass.

"Well, that was fun," Eren chuckled as he pulled up his pants and let them sit on his hips unbuttoned.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wetness started to pool in between your thighs, causing you to blush from the intrusive thoughts of Eren. You looked around to make sure no one would follow you. After stepping into the shower, you took your clothes off, and neatly folded them, and placed them on the bench. You pulled the curtain closed in hopes of having a sliver of privacy. The cold water rushed over your body and hair. Your nipples became hard as the cold water ran over them. Your mind began to imagine Eren behind you and what his hands would feel like as he rubbed your shoulders and softly caressing your breasts. Maybe he would snake one of his hands down your waist and tease your folds as the other would grip your neck pulling you back into his bare chest.

"Mmm. Eren," you moaned teasing yourself closer and closer to orgasm. Your finger moved faster in circles around your clit. A tightness started building up in your core and just about as you were going to come undone the door to showers swung open. FUCK! Disappointed in your attempt to relieve some stress you quickly got dressed.

"Hey (y/n)," Sasha greeted you, but you bolted past her "okay, bye!"

You didn't want to be rude to Sasha, but you had other things on your mind. All of them were Eren. Your body ached for his. You wondered want it would feel like on top of yours. Your mind kept racing all these thoughts about him and what he looked like under his clothes.

"(Y/N)! Instead of daydreaming why don't you help in the kitchen?" You were quickly drawn away from your thoughts as Levi approached you.

"Sorry Captain, I-" you tried to explain yourself before Levi shut you down.

"You're almost as bad as Eren." Eren? You clung to his name.

"What's wrong with Eren?" You ask.

"Well, since he's been released from the infirmary he's been zoning out. But enough chit-chat go help get dinner ready."

You made your way to the kitchen. Both Connie and Sasha were slacking off and having a baguette battle.

"Guys, let's do what needs to be done. I'm tired and want to go to sleep." You announce. It took about an hour to get prepped and cooked. By the time you were done cooking, you wanted to go to your room and finish what you couldn't in the showers.

After finally arriving at your room. You quickly shut your door. The rooms weren't big, but none the less you were grateful to have your own after spending a year in the barracks. The rooms were massive, but they were a decent size for one person. A desk with a wooden chair sat in the far corner and a closet just big enough to hold a few scout uniforms and a full-size bed. Still, a layer of dust covered everything although you didn't mind. It wasn't like you were going to be staying in your room all day.

You rubbed your eyes and sat at the edge of your bed, taking off your boots and jacket, neatly putting them away in the closet. You always hated taking off your harness there were so many buckles and straps, you got confused so easily. The only light to work with was an oil lamp fixed to the wall. You sighed heavily as you finished folding up your clothes and getting into your pajamas.

As you laid down in your bed thoughts of Eren came back to you. Softly you moaned as you pawed at your breast and teased your nipple. Woefully imagining it was Eren's instead of yours. You felt a wetness start to pool between your legs. Slipping your hands down your shorts your finger circled your clit. You were a virgin, but you still knew what happened you just never found anyone worthy enough. Expect for Eren.

You moaned as you came closer and closer to climax, but it was cut short again. "(Y/N)..." You had sworn you heard someone moan your name. Quickly you pulled your covers over your body as you listen to the room next to you and you heard it again. You were sure someone was moaning your name. In the room next to yours you heard the bed squeak as someone got up from it. Your heart beated faster as you heard footsteps approached your door. You closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep. The door to your room slowly creaked open. "(Y/N)... Are you awake?" It was Eren. You still didn't open your eyes as the door shut and Eren sat on the edge of your bed. He took your hand and held it and pressed it to his chest.

"I know you're asleep but I wanted to tell you, thank you for saving me, I know everyone told you to leave me but you didn't and I'm grateful. I don't know why you've been avoiding me, but I probably deserve it somehow." You heard his voice crack and you could tell he was about to cry.

"I just don't know how to tell you this but here does nothing, I love you (Y/N)." You opened your eyes and saw Eren crying.

"I love you too." You said sitting up in your bed. Your hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were soft and perfectly fit in between yours. It was sweet and soft but your core ached for him. He pulled you onto his lap and brushed your hair behind your ear.

"I can't tell you how many nights I wished for this, to be here with you." Eren buried his face into your chest.

"You don't have to wish anymore," you told him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again this time softly biting on his lower lips. He moaned into the kiss sending chills down your spine. He gripped your hips, his callused fingers dug into your sides almost as if he was scared you were fall through his hands if he didn't hold you tight enough.

Your hips ground into his causing a deep moan to escape from his lips. His erection grew quickly underneath you. Eren flipped you over on your back onto the mattress. He stood up and began removing his shirt. Your eyes followed the skin on his stomach as more of it was exposed. Moonlight peaked in through the window, shining on his torso. It was beautiful, hours and hours of training had paid off.

"My eyes are up here, darling" he chuckled as he climbed on top of you. You couldn't help but feel his chest and abs. His piercing green eyes looked into yours. His lips crashed into yours, it was sloppy and wet and hot. Your clothes limited his access to your perfect body. He slowly took off your shirt and kissed up your stomach and in between your breasts before he took one in each hand and massaged them. His thumb rubbing your nipples before he took it in his mouth and circled it with his tongue. Your fingers ran through his hair as you leaned your head back and moaned. He made his way up to your neck kissing and sucking on it. You knew for sure there was going to be a hickey tomorrow but you didn't care. You wanted everyone to know that you were Eren's and that he was yours too.

"Eren, I need you." You begged him to touch you. He leaned back on his calves and pulled your legs up to his chest, slowly removing your shorts.

"You're so wet for me already, have you been expecting me?" He chuckled and smirked as he pushed your legs apart. His hot breath hit your folds making you beg for him even more.

"Please please Eren!" Your cries for his touch were desperate. Him seeing how much you needed him turned him on. He was throbbing in his jeans. His finger slid up your folds and collected your wetness before he put it in his mouth and sucked on his finger.

"Open your mouth," he commanded and you did as he stuck his finger in your mouth. "Suck." His voice was deep and demanding making you want him even more. Your tongue danced around his finger you tasted yourself on his finger. His mouth attached itself to your clit and you threw your head back moaning. His tongue circling your clit making you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. Your hands found their way to his beautiful brawn locks, your fingers entangled themselves pulling slightly. Eren groaned and gripped your thighs tighter, maybe enough to leave bruises. The idea of having Eren's fingerprints lingering on your skin turned you on even more.

Eren's erection grew harder and slightly painful. He stood up from the bed and a whine came from your mouth in protest.

"Don't worry we aren't done yet. Do you know how much my hand hurts by now? I'm so glad you accepted my feelings so I can fuck you now."

"All you had to do was ask" you teased back at him "but you should know I'm a virgin." You weren't shy about it, it was just how you were.

"Well, I am too, if that makes you feel better." You sat up on your knees and began to undo Eren's pants. You could hear his moan that he held back. Your fingers slipped between his skin and underwear slowly teasing it down before releasing the waistband and having it snap back to his skin. A low hiss rolled out of his mouth as he smirked at you and his eye went darker with lust.

In a fit of lust Eren quickly removed his pants and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widen at the sight, you always thought Eren was big but never this big.

"Suck now." His tone cold and demanding. You took it in one hand and started to suck on the tip of his cock. You could taste the precum from the tip. His hand placed at the back of your head slowly pushing you further and further down. Your hands gripped his thighs as he drove his cock deeper into your face. You looked up at him, he looked so hot his eyes were rolled back and beautiful moans escaped his mouth.

"Ahhh fuck (Y/N) your so warm. I'm so close, will you be a good girl and swallow for me?" He looked down, locking his eyes with yours, you nod.

"Mmmm that's my girl." He continued to fuck your face, his hands cupping your checks. A warm salty liquid flowed into your mouth. You swallowed it and sucked the rest off his cock before opening your math to show him.

"Fuck... You're such a good slut for me." He crawled on top of you. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he kissed your stomach right below your navel. He slowly slid two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and grip the sheets. He took his time moving his fingers in and out of you taking care to make sure you never felt any pain.

"More Eren, please..." you begged for him, bringing him closer for a kiss. He lined himself up at your entrance wetting his tip on your folds. He steadied himself by placing his hand next to your head. He looked into your eyes. "Ready, darling?" You nodded. He slowly pushed his tip in both of you letting out moans of each other's names. You momentarily adjusted to his size before he added another inch. You wrapped your legs around his hips allowing him to fully enter you.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight I could cum right now," Eren moaned into your chest. Your breath was heavy as you fully adjusted to his massive size. Eren pressed his forehead to yours as he thrust in and out of you at a good pace. You moaned and softly bit into his shoulder careful not to hurt him and activate his Titan.

His thrust because faster and faster. You moaned his name over and over again. Sweat started to drip from his forehead, you could tell he was holding back his orgasm. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix. Eren let out a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You asked.

"I can it inside you. Look." You glanced at your stomach and saw the tip pressing the skin up. "Fuck I can't wait to fill you up with my seed." He pounded harder into you as your orgasm started to build.

"Eren I'm getting close," you mewled in his ear. His thrust becomes sloppy as his thumb played with clit and that sent you over the edge. Eren watched as your body twitched underneath him. It felt like your entire body was on ice and fire at the same time. Eren was not long after you as he slammed one last time into you and let out the most beautiful moan you ever heard.

"Ahhh fuckkkkk (Y/N). You were such a good girl for me." He pulled out and laid down next to you pulling you close to him.

"I love you. I always have. I don't care if this world is unfair and unforgiving. A world that doesn't have you isn't where I want to be." You pressed your face into his chest and slowly fell asleep.

[dreaming-twist]

THAT'S NOT FAIR!

I wrote something self-indulgent for myself ~

Note: "(Y/n)" has her/she pronouns. And sorry if the translator changed any pronoun, I re-read it already but if something's left I'll correct it later!

At NRC, there weren't many opportunities for an entire course to come together in one class, but this was one of those days when it did. Professor Vargas had told all his students something about how observing other people, apart from classmates, could awaken in each one a feeling of improvement and rivalry that would make them try harder everyday. And having said that, he gathered all the first-year classes in the schoolyard, so that each of the students could do the sport that they most wanted.

Ace, Deuce and (Y/n) –who was carring Grim– walked around looking sideways in search of their friends, and after a few seconds they saw Jack's hand, calling for them above all the student heads around. The four of them made room to pass netween their classmates, and found Jack and Epel there.

"Hey ~" Ace greeted, raising his hand. Deuce and Epel bumpled their fists, and Jack smiled. "Well, I'll be brief: Basketball"

"You're making up your own mind, Ace" Grim said reluctantly.

"You know, there are two people here from the athletic club, if we were to pick something by majority we would win" Deuce commented casually, glancing at Jack.

Ace mockingly mimicked him, then put his arms behind his head.

"What do you want to play then?"

"Anything, I only want to start moving NOW" said Epel, who had already begun to stretch.

"Same here" Jack said, folding his arms. "I just want something to keep me going."

"Well, then it's decided!" Ace turned away, before Deuce could say anything to him. "I'm going for a ba—!"

"I THINK that what Professor Vargas wants is for us to try new experiences."

"UWAH!" Ace was startled to see someone cutting him off, which he almost bumped in. "SEBEK!? Since WHEN were you there!?"

Sebek arched an eyebrow, not changing his expression too much.

"I have listened to your conversation from the very beginning, human. If that's what you mean."

"... Well, now that we are 7 at least we can play 3 VS 3."

"... Huh? But if we were 6 before, right?";(Y/n) said, counting.

"Ah— did you count Grim? 'Cause I didn't"

"HEY, ACE! I'M GONNA TO HIT YOU, YOU SEE!" Grim yelled at him angrily as Ace held up his tongue.

"AS I WAS SAYING," Sebek began, walking a few more steps to the other boys, "I think trying something that no one practices on a regular basis would be a much more enriching experience for everyone."

Ace narrowed his eyes at him, though Sebek didn't seem to have noticed him. Deuce put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Sounds like a good option to me, actually" he said, glancing at (Y/n) and Grim, who nodded. Jack seemed to be listening intently, and Epel's eyes were fixed on Sebek, since he wanted to get started as soon as possible. "Do you have any suggestions, Sebek?"

"Hmpf. Of course I do" he said, smiling, and then headed straight for a bench.

They all looked at each other without understanding anything, and followed him. Sebek ended up sitting up and putting his elbow on the table, and when everyone saw him smile proudly they knew what it was about.

"Arm wrestling? Like, seriously?" Ace asked, looking bored. He sought support from the others, looking at them, but he was surprised to see everyone really wanting to get started.

"Do you think you can beat me?" Jack asked confidently. "I was competing against Leona-senpai some days ago."

"Impressive, but yes: I think I can win. Do not underestimate the bodyguard of the great Malleus Draconia."

Jack smiled and sat down at the table, and they both put their hands together for a second after they started. They were both too strong, so they just smiled while straining.

Epel was looking at them with super bright eyes, and then he turned to Deuce, clenching his fists tightly.

"DEUCE! We are next! I'm not losing to you!"

Deuce looked at him in surprise, but then his grimace changed to a crooked smile as he collided with one of his fists against his other hand.

"I'm going to do everything I can to win you over, huh?" He said, and Epel was quick to nod and sit up to go against him.

They both put their elbows on the table and clasped their hands, and on the count of three they started. From the start Deuce seemed to have the upper hand, but Epel didn't give up on the first try, keeping his arm up for a long time. Deuce knew that if he used as much force as in his past days, he could win, but he was no longer like that, so he gave his all without going to extremes that were not going to be good for him or for his opponent. But still, he was struggling. And that made him feel proud of his friend, who seemed to be getting stronger every day through training and perseverance.

"Epel, your training seems to be paying off" Deuce said, smiling, though his tone darkened a bit afterward. "But I'm not going to let you beat me."

"HA!" said Epel, cocky. "We both train very hard, but there is something that I have and you don't ~"

Deuce arched an eyebrow not knowing what his opponent was planning on him... until he fixed his eyes on him: Epel was looking at him with the brightest and most adorable eyes he'd ever seen.

"Huuum, Deuce-kun, you're too strong ... I'm not going to be able to beat you ... ~"

Deuce shuddered when he heard that high-pitched tone of voice suddenly, which made Epel suddenly use more force and knock down Deuce's arm, thus winning the game. Epel stood up with a jump, returning to his normal voice again.

"TAKE THAT, YOU LOSER! WOOOOOOO!"

Deuce blinked a few times, unaware of what had just happened. But as he recovered, he snapped his eyes open and pointed at Epel, embarrassed.

"EPEL! THAT'S NOT FAIR!

"What's not fair?" Epel asked, pretending to be oblivious, but without losing his smile.

"Deuce... You have to lose that irrational fear you have of women... Or well, of everything just a little femenine, ya know" Ace said, sighing.

"It's not irrational! EPEL! I DEMAND ANOTHER MATCH!"

"Eeeeeh...?"

Ace, Grim and (Y/n) stood watching them argue a bit, not saying anything ... until Ace and (Y/n) ended up looking sideways. And Ace then showed a mocking smile.

"... Weeeell, (Y/n)... Do you want me to crush you?~"

"You speak very confidently for being the weaklest guy in the basketball club, Ace" Grim said quickly, to which (Y/n) gave a small laugh.

"WEAKL...! All right, Grim, you against me! But if you end up crying don't blame me, huh"

"Whatever, I'm gonna win you over."

Ace sat down at the table and Grim jumped on top of it. They both put their arms in position and on the count of three, they started the match... which ended just as quickly.

"... Wait, WHAT!?" That scream sounded so loud that other students turned to look his way. "THAT'S NOT FAIR! (Y/N)! WHY HAVE YOU HELPED HIM!?"

"Hum? What are you talking about?" (Y/n) asked innocently, whose hand was on Grim's paw, and both of them had managed to knock Ace down in no time.

"HEY, DON'T PLAY FOOL!"

"Tch, tch, tch ... Ace, my minion and I are one student. If you are looking for a fight with me, you are looking for it with her. This is how things are ~"

Meanwhile, Sebek and Jack continued to compete. Neither of them seemed to want to give in and be the last loser of the day.

"Aren't you tired yet, Sebek?"

"Not at all. I am totally focused on our match."

"Heh. I supposed it. Although it seems that the others have already finished. We should finish soon.”

"HA! That those humans and that magic monster are not as good as us is none of our business."

"... You're right, I just have to beat you."

That made everyone turn their heads towards the two of them, especially Ace and Deuce, the losers from the previous rounds. The two of them frowned at being treated like that, looked at each other, and ended up reading each other's minds. Epel, Grim and (Y/n) could feel how they weren't planning anything good... even though they couldn't say anything about it. Ace and Deuce took a breath then, and...

"M-M-MALLEUS-SENPAI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

"KINGSCHOLAR-SENPAI! HAVE YOU COME TO WATCH JACK'S MATCH?"

And then, Sebek and Jack reacted at the same time, getting up from the place very upright, turning to see their superiors ...

"WAKA-SAMA, IT'S AN HONOR—!"

"LEONA-SENPAI, I WAS—"

... Only to realize that they were nowhere to be found.

"WOW, Sebek, looks like you've lost, huh? ~"

"Now we're in the same boat, Jack ~"

The two of them were stunned to realize that they had given up at the same time, and thus, they had both lost.

"Good work, Deuce-kun ~

"Same there, Ace-kun ~

Ace and Deuce bumpled fists, grinning. When they weren't arguing, the truth was that they made a great team. Although...

"... Uh... You two... I don't think it's time to celebrate."

They both turned to Grim and could see Sebek and Jack getting dangerously close to them, stretching their arms and clenching their fists.

"Time to show them who the losers are"

"I was going to say the exact same thing"

Epel, Grim, and (Y/n) stood, watching the chase live... until Epel finally said something.

"Well... do you want to take one more?"

"Of course! This is the one to see who wins!" Grim said, jumping back onto the table.

"No cheating this time, okay? We will play as it should from the beginning" (Y/n) said him, laughing, and placing her hand on Grim's paw.

Epel smiled and joined them, getting ready.

"OK! So... AT THE COUNT OF THREE...!"

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus,  Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles 

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“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?    

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.  

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,  

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.  

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)  

Mom  

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975  

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.  

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.  

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom — “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.”

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,  

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.  

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet. 

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?  

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.  

Until next time  

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,” Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”  

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”  

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,�� rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl - Blurb 4

A/N: I just hit 300 followers HOLY CRAP so here’s a fluffy, final blurb for Pretty Girl. I love you guys, thank you for enjoying this story and sticking around. Also, I mention miscarriage and fertility issues in this blurb. I myself experienced a miscarriage at 18 weeks with twins and am still grieving and trying to get pregnant again. I wish for my rainbow baby every day. 🤍

Summary: Pretty Girl and Flip are having a baby.

Warnings: Pregnancy, language, fertility issues, miscarriage mention, grief, labour, fluff. 

Flip was busy typing away at his desk, trying to stay on top of all of his paperwork. As much as (Y/N) helped him, there were still sections of the reports he had to complete himself, and falling behind wasn’t an option right now. He sat back in his chair, taking a brief break to roll his neck when movement by the doors to the bullpen caught his eyes.

A large, round belly preceded his wife into view, and as always she took Flip off guard; seeing her glowing, beautiful face. Some baser instinct within him enjoyed seeing (Y/N) round with his child; it caused a ripple of satisfaction to course through him. When she kept moving toward him, her eyes bright, Flip jumped up, frantic.

“Darling,” He hurried to her side, hands hovering around her unnecessarily, “You promised you’d keep off your feet at much as possible. I told you I’d come to check on you shortly.” Flip watched as she laughed, rolling her eyes affectionately. She had one hand placed absentmindedly over her bump, gently rubbing circles.

At thirty-eight weeks pregnant, Flip’s wife had impressed him every day with her unwillingness to give up routine and work simply because she was with child. She insisted on staying on at the station until the baby came. And while he didn’t like her working too hard, it was nice to have her close by. This way, he could keep an eye on her and take care of her as much as possible. And she had reduced her duties at work, agreeing with Flip that overdoing things wouldn’t be good for her or the baby.

They had been married a few years now, the best of his life for the most part. Marrying your best friend had a way of making every day an adventure. Of course, not everything was sunshine for them; but they had one another and they knew they could get through anything. They always did.

When Flip had been shot in the arm the previous year, (Y/N) had marched into the hospital and, surprising everyone, punched the rookie cop in the face who left Flip open when he should have been watching his six.

Flip had never been prouder of her.

They’d stopped using protection early on in the marriage, agreeing they were both ready to start a family. But it hadn’t come easy for them, months turned into a year of no success and the light that he took for granted in his wife started to waver, just a little. When they got pregnant the first time, Flip had overcome with emotion and he nearly left the parking lot of the doctor’s office without (Y/N), who had run to the bathroom before coming outside. When he realized what he’d done and turned around, he found her standing outside laughing so hard she was crying. That had been a damn good day.

At just nine weeks pregnant, they found out that they had lost the baby. Things had changed for (Y/N) and Flip. He left the doctor's office with the heavy weight of grief, and he knew his perfect, lovely wife was more crushed than she was letting on. She had taken a leave from work, and it had been a rough few months of coming home to a quiet house, (Y/N) asleep on the couch most days. They had stopped having sex, which didn't bother Flip in itself, it was just the reasoning that worried him.

The night that (Y/N) broke down and admitted she felt like a huge failure still replayed in Flip’s mind every once in a while. The raw, excruciating pain had been so evident on her face, his pretty girl so heartbroken she felt like she was failing him. Like she could ever do anything wrong. Flip had comforted her, but more importantly, he made it clear that nothing about their pregnancy troubles or the loss of their baby was her fault. He had cried with her that night. As they clung to one another in the bath and the sun set outside. He cried for their loss. He cried for her pain. He cried with his wife and they promised each other they would have no regrets. Life was what it was. Having each other meant they could do anything, could get through anything.

The next time she got pregnant was just after he had been shot. He’d had a few weeks leave, but (Y/N) had long since returned to work, so he spent long days at home alone trying to pass the time. On one such day, he had been sitting in his favourite chair in their living room, his hand stroking over his hard length as he sought to escape, frantic and needy and so consumed in himself that he hadn’t heard her come home. What he didn't miss was the way her hand suddenly wrapped around him; his eyes had flown open and found her gazing at him with such hunger as she gripped him that he only just managed to launch himself forward, toppling them onto the floor, and take her right there.

A few weeks later, they had found out they were pregnant.

And now, (Y/N) was fully and unmistakably pregnant or, as she liked to say, ready to pop any moment. Though relatively good-natured, Flip had been a witness or victim to many mood swings, including one that had involved an ashtray being thrown at his head because he forgot to buy pickles. Christ, he never made that mistake again.

“I’ve been taking it easy, detective, don’t worry.” (Y/N) patted Flip’s arm with her free hand, smiling up at him as he fretted at her side.

Flip tried to steer her to his seat, “I know, but you could go into labour at any time and being on your feet too much-“

“Oh, well,” She was giving Flip a funny smile now, her eyes glinting, “That’s actually why I came back here. My water broke a few minutes ago.”

Flip stared down at his wife as though she’d suddenly sprouted a second head. He went entirely rigid, and all conscious thought slid out of his head, replaced with a faint ringing.

“Flip, honey, come back to me.”

“I-uh, what?” He shook his head, attempting to assemble his thoughts, “What’s going on?”

(Y/N) was giggling now, “Flip Zimmerman, my water broke.”

“Pretty girl,” He murmured, suddenly reaching out to grip her shoulders, “Are you saying...are we having a baby?”

Before she could answer, (Y/N) suddenly winced, the hand on her belly stilling and her eyes closing and she took a few deep, slow breaths. This was all it took to bring reality slamming into Flip and he instantly began grabbing his things. Shrugging his jacket on, tucking his keys and wallet into his pockets. His mind was now racing at a mile a minute. But they’d planned for this, going so far as to bring their hospital bag to work every day just in case.

“Whew, that’s a fun feeling.” (Y/N) mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Darling, are you okay to walk for me?” Flip leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, smiling at her when she opened her eyes and nodded. Taking it slow, they made their way out of the bullpen and down the hall. Flip raced behind the reception desk to grab the go-bag and (Y/N)‘s jacket.

Donna came out of the washroom as he hurried back out from behind it, her eyes spotting Flip before moving to where (Y/N) was slightly hunched over, breathing through more contractions.

“OH!” Donna cried out, clapping her hands excitedly. “Oh, it’s time! Go, go, I’ll let the Sarge know. Good luck you two, and Flip drive safely to the hospital!” She raced over and gave (Y/N) a quick hug, before turning on Flip and embracing him with happy tears in her eyes.

With a quick thank you, they were on the move again. Flip hurried ahead and got the truck, pulling it up out front of the station as his wife waddled out, looking more relaxed now that her contraction had eased up. He helped slide her into her seat, carefully buckling her in before breaking the speed limit to get the few blocks away to the hospital.

One of the perks of being a detective was that most of the hospital staff knew Flip already. So when he walked in the doors, an arm around (Y/N)‘s shoulders and a frantic look on his face, about eight nurses rushed over and began to dote on them both, one settling (Y/N) into a wheelchair while they helped Flip check them in.

In no time at all, they were settling into labour and delivery, (Y/N) now wearing the open-backed hospital gown that gave Flip a pretty nice view every time she stood at the side of her bed and leaned over to breathe through contractions. The woman couldn’t sit still; the pain and nervousness rendering her ability to relax null.

Flip rubbed her lower back, standing behind her and appreciating the strength his wife had. “What are you staring at, detective?” She asked, breaking him from his thoughts. (Y/N) was staring over her shoulder at Flip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Just, thinking about how incredible you are, darling.” He admitted, hands still kneading her skin gently.

(Y/N) hummed appreciatively, “Funny, I was going to say the same about you.”

“Ah, well, I’m not the one about to do all the hard work here, so I’ll defer all compliments for now,” Flip joked, and she laughed before hissing a breath as her next contraction took over.

“Fuck,” She focused on her breathing for a few moments, “Flip, promise you’ll stay here with me the whole time?” Her voice was surprisingly small at that moment, and he knew if he could see her face, it would be twisted in a vulnerable grimace.

He reached up and smoothed her hair back, “Pretty girl, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be at your side the whole time,” Flip leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “You don’t worry about a thing, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

And he did, in as much as he could. Never leaving her side once, Flip witnessed every moment of labour. Labour lasted about six hours, and then he experienced every moment of the birth of their child. He held her hand throughout, rubbing her shoulder with his free hand and ignoring the pain in the one she had a vice-like grip on. Flip pressed a cool cloth to her forehead between pushing, whispering sweet nothings and praise in her ear as she cried out in pain, until suddenly (Y/N) was slumping into the pillows propped up behind her with a sigh of relief, and then the brief silence filled with a cry.

Their newborn baby gave a shrill shriek of displeasure, and Flip and (Y/N) were entirely overcome with emotion. Flip stepped forward to cut the umbilical cord. With the help of the doctor, he took hold of the baby to lay them on (Y/N)‘s chest. The baby's cries dulled somewhat then, as she clutched their baby to her skin and gazed down with so much affection he felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks, his heart so full of joy it nearly hurt.

“Congratulations, mommy and daddy!” The doctor said a few minutes later. He then took the baby to be checked over and cleaned up, across the room.

Flip leaned down and pressed his lips to (Y/N)‘s forehead, “You doing alright, pretty girl?” When she nodded sleepily, he raised his hands to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing across her soft, damp skin. “You did so well, darling. You were so strong and brave, I’m so proud of you. I love you.” He kissed her again, this time capturing her lips briefly.

(Y/N) sighed with content, “I love you too, Flip,” Her eyes were fluttering now, exhaustion pulling her toward a much-deserved slumber, though he saw them flicker to where the nurses were standing with the baby, working at swaddling them. “Will you stay with the baby?”

“Course I will, darling. Now get some sleep,” He reached down for her blankets and pulled them up, tucking her in better as the nurses that had been tidying up her lower body finished up. “Baby and I will be right here when you wake up, pretty girl.”

With one last smile, (Y/N) slipped off to sleep, her breathing evening out as Flip watched. He didn’t even feel tired, and true to his word he didn’t go anywhere, staying with her and the baby, whom he was holding when she woke back up a few hours later.

Flip slid onto the bed next to her and together they held their little bundle of joy, each staring into the little, scrunched up face with huge grins. Their little rainbow baby.

Tag list ✨

@tashastrange89 @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @morby @pradaxstyles @10blurredsmoke10 @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

[scarasimplysimping]

These Books Of You

Xingqiu x Adepti Reader

Sypnosis: A boy of noble blood and disciple to the Guhua Clan, Xingqiu has been reading books of the heroic adventures of an elusive adepti, [Y/N] ever since he was a little boy.

Now a bit older, he sets everything aside in a journey to meet you.

(A/N): I planned to put it all in one post but like it wouldn't fit. Part 2 link below.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar.

It was midnight. All of liyue was quiet and asleep except for a certain room where you could here the rustling sound of packing made by a young man eager to leave before dusk.

"Are you sure about this?" Chongyun asks, catching his breath after climbing his friend's window.

"Most definitely!" Xingqiu says excitedly as he picks out the books he would be bringing.

Chongyun furrows his eyebrows, "You don't even have a plan!"

"These books are my plan," The dark haired boy says in a wise tone.

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

Xingqiu chuckles in response.

Chongyun begins to rant again. "Where will you go? Where will you search? What will you eat? What if you get mugged?"

Xingqiu laughs harder, "My friend, I appreciate your concern but I assure you. Nothing you say will change my mind. I will search all of Teyvat if I must."

"What if they don't exist? What if it's all fiction? Mere children's fairytales."

This makes Xingqiu stop in his tracks, contemplating the possibility for a few moments before coming to the conclusion, "They are real. I can feel it."

"And what of your family? Your brother?"

"I've left them a letter."

"What will they do with the letter? Teach it chivalry?" Chongyun says sarcastically.

Xingqiu does not bother to reply.

The exorcist sighs in defeat, "Xingqiu, if you don't come back alive, I will kill you."

"Then perhaps it's best if I don't come completely," He teases.

"Then I shall kill you right now and you won't get to leave at all."

The two friends bicker like this for a while until it is time for one's departure.

"Be careful, Xingqiu," Chongyun bids.

"I will. Make sure my family doesn't do anything rash while I'm gone."

The light haired boy rolls his eyes.

"Dear Chongyun, If in any case I don't come back, know that I've always appreciated your friendship."

And just like that, Xingqiu climbs out the window and disappears into the dark of night.

In the early afternoon, you sat peacefully, having tea with Cloud Retainer and Zhongli atop of Mt. Aozang. The breeze was nice and so was the view.

"It's a shame only we came to this tea party. It's been ages since we've gathered with the adeptus," The geo archon spoke.

"This is not a petty tea party. One has called a meeting to discuss the next move regarding a matter of great importance," Cloud Retainer retorted.

"And what might this matter be?" You ask while slouching on your seat, showing no interest.

"One has come to notice that ever since the incident of Osial's return and defeat, mortal's have come to One's domain asking for favors or offering goods much more times than One is comfortable with. The mortal, Aether has also-"

Cloud Retainer could not finish because the sound of your intentionally loud sigh interrupted her.

"Is the almighty Cloud Retainer scared of mortal affection and admiration?" You tease. Even Zhongli could not help but smile a bit.

Cloud Retainer threw you both a look that.. well you could only assume was a glare since she was in the shape of a bird after all.

The light-hearted argument continues until you here a soft grunting from a distance.

You all pause, listening as the voice becomes louder and louder and then, you see a hand grip the edge of the mountain, then another. A dark blue haired young man lifts himself up and throws himself onto the mountain surface, panting heavily.

"Oh.. Sweet.. sweet ground.," He says. You can almost hear him thank the Archons that he's made it this far.

"And what is your purpose of interrupting an important gathering?" Cloud Retainer's voice boomed.

Xingqiu blinked a bit before remembering why he was here in the first place. Quickly, he got up and bowed, still woozy from all the climbing. "I've been traveling for two days, seeking an adepti. I've heard that there's another adepti who lives here and I respectfully ask guidance in my journey," he says, still in a bowing position.

Zhongli recognizes him, "Xingqiu, are you not a little to far from Liyue Harbor?"

Xingqiu, in turn also recognizes the man but dares not question Zhongli's purpose. His only concern was finding you. "Please don't tell my family, Mister Zhongli."

You decide to entertain the mortal, "Well Xingqiu of Liyue Harbor, which adepti is it that you're looking for?"

Only then does he make eye contact with you, Xingqiu is taken in by your beauty. He stares a little too long before answering, "The heroic (Y/N)! The legendary adepti of great legends! They who saved thousands of lives and vanquished thousands more foes!" He says enthusiastically.

You are dumbfounded, never have you been sought after by a mortal for your heroic deeds. This was new. "And where do these legends come from?" You ask nervously.

"The books I've read! I've read every single one of the books that mention them."

Conveniently, you remember that time, thousands of years ago where you saved a family of writers who thanked you relentlessly and swore they'd write of your heroics.

While you are contemplating, Cloud Retainer speaks, "Look no further, mortal. The one you seek is here," She gestures to you.

You glare at her. "Is the mighty (Y/N) scared of mortal affection and admiration?" She mocks.

Xingqiu stares at you, trying to imprint this moment into his brain. "You... you weren't what I was expecting."

"And what were you expecting exactly?" You ask, offended.

"To be honest, I assumed you looked like a bird or fox! I was not expecting someone human and... beautiful." He says almost absent-mindedly.

Beautiful? As in attractive to a mortal's eyes? How dare he use such methods of flattery.

"How long will you stay with-"

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Zhongli and Cloud Retainer decide it was best for them to leave, they quietly dismiss themselves and leave you alone in this awkward situation.

The young man before you just stares at you with dazzled eyes.

"Now that you've found me, what do you plan?" You finally question.

Xingqiu stops for a moment. He didn't really think this far and didn't expect to find you so soon.

"I want to be your friend," Xingqiu blurts out.

You are again, taken aback by his straight-forwardness.

This was unnecessary. A mortal of such fleeting lifespan. How would this benefit you? This wouldn't benefit him either; you think to yourself. This is nothing but mortal entertainment. You had no interest in entertaining a mortal at your expense.

"I have no need for mortal company," You say firmly, all your nervousness replaced with a cold gaze.

"Please? I've dreamt of meeting you my whole life-"

"And now you have. Go."

"I swear to the Seven Archons I shall serve you well-"

"No!" This time, you raise your voice. "Go home," and with that, you vanish into thin air.

Xingqiu is sad and dejected,  even on verge of tears but he does his best to keep it together. "Very well," He quietly whispers.

Xingqiu, climbing down the mountain is several feet away from the ground when his mind wonders back to you and the harsh rejection. "Well it's not like an adepti to mortal friendship is common anyway. At least I got to meet them," He says, trying to look on the bright side. He assures himself that he will return.

Tears start bluring his vision and he takes a wrong step, causing him to plummet down and make a loud thump sound.

He groans in pain. For the most part, he was unharmed except for his right hand which was twisted in a weird position.

"Drat! Xingqiu, how pathetic can you be? You fall and just had to break your right arm, you're sword hand!" He scolds himself.

The good part of this was that it was nightfall now, if he was lucky, all the hilichurls around the area would be asleep and he could avoid combat.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans as he sees a hydro abyss mage that he could have sworn was not there before. And the abyss mage sees him.

Xingqiu curses and tries to make a run for it, but as he was still limping from the fall, the mage catches up to him and teleports in front of him. Xingqiu stumbles backwards. In a desperate attempt, he shouts your name. But the abyss mage wasn't going to wait for you to show up. The young man suddenly feels himself getting drowned. So was this it? Rejected by a childhood dream, almost fell to his death and was currently being drowned? What a weird day. What a sad way to die. It's almost poetic. Xingqiu was slowly beginning to lose consciousness, coming to terms with this tragic death when he felt the bubble burst, quite literally.

He fell to the ground, the last thing he saw was the vanishing particles of a defeated abyss mage and what appeared to be a silhouette of a person- Xingqiu was saved!... and falling unconscious.

After you rescued him, you hurriedly brought him to Wangshu Inn, blurting out to Verr Goldet that you almost let a mortal die.

You paced back and fourth at the terrace. While the vigilant yaksha, Xiao watches you with annoyance.

"What if he dies?" You ask frantically.

"You dressed his wounds quiet well. He won't die unless someone comes in and murders him," Xiao says as if trying to be comforting.

Xingqiu awakens from his slumber, body still aching. A cast of bandages was made in order to support his broken arm.

The door slowly opens, you walk in with some hot soup and set it on the bedside table. It didn't take him long to realize that you were the one who saved him.

"You're awake," You state the obvious but almost sigh in relief. "Despite the attack, you managed to go almost unscathed.. except for well, your broken arm."

"Thank you... You really are my hero," Xingqiu says, once again beaming at you.

"Don't come back to Mt. Aozang,"

"Wait- what?" His face falls. And all the feelings of being rejected earlier come back.

"If...," You hesitantly start, "If you must see me, then I spend one night a week at the statue of Pervases." This was a lie, of course. But you were willing to do as you said if that meant the mortal, Xingqiu would stop going through such dangerous measures in order to meet you.

As if like a switch, his bright smile returned almost instantly. "My liege, you won't regret this!"

"Drink your soup and meet me at the terrace when you're prepared to return for Liyue Harbor." You don't know why you say what you say next but it felt right, "and call me (Y/N)."

You shut the door behind yourself quickly, leaving Xingqiu alone in the room, euphoric.

"You should not get too close to mortals," Xiao warns once you reach the terrace.

"I will not."

"In the thousand that I've known you, never once have I seen you prepare soup for a mortal.. or immortal."

"That means nothing."

"And I suppose your made up visits to the statue of Pervases mean nothing as well?"

He had a point there."Don't eavesdrop on my conversations, Alatus."

He glares at the sudden mention of the name. "Their lives are fleeting, (Y/N). The peace at the end of their journey is just a thousand years of grief for us if we so choose to befriend them. I just warn you because I care for you," Xiao says before vanishing from your sight.

He was right. You knew that. Of all the adepti, Xiao knew you the most. He was there when the mortal part of you was taken away in exchange for eternal life, after all.

You loved once. But that did not end well.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar

Never again.

Shortly after Xiao's departure, Xingqiu arrives with that ever so charming smile.

Charming? Did you just think that? Right after promising yourself to solitude? Oh dear...

"I've prepared! Will we go on foot or will you fly us there? I must warn you I get motion sick-" He stops talking when he notices you taking steps toward him. You put a hand on his shoulder and Xingqiu's mind goes blank. Was this approval? Mutual admiration? Were you friends now?

"Close your eyes," You tell him.

To which he obeys without hesitation. He's read enough romance books to know where this is going. Xingqiu would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous but at the same time he was extremely excited. His train of thought is cut short when he feels a harsh gust of wind blow his way.

"You may open them now."

He does and to his surprise, the both of you are back at Liyue Harbor, specifically the bridge.

"We... teleported?" He asks, embarrassed of his thoughts just moments ago.

You nod. "This is as far as I'll go. Make it back to your residence carefully and get some rest."

"Can't you come with me?"

"No."

"I have a friend who-"

"No."

"We can grab some countryside delicacy-"

"No."

He sighs in defeat, "But I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"

"Perhaps."

Xingqiu, in a moment of elation and not thinking properly, abruptly takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles.

Realizing what he had done the dark haired boy glows red as apples and lets go as quick as he took hold of you. "W-well... good-bye then."

The boy leaves you dumbfounded once again.

Part 2

V

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Revenge is Best Served out of the Ice

Warnings: Non con, dub con, death, cursing, blood, rough vaginal sex, other things, Bucky isn’t okay. 18+

Word Count: 2,529

Prompt: I’m as mad as Hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore

Pairings: Dark ex-Hydra Bucky / Ex-Hydra Reader

Summary: Reader is in hiding after the fall of Hydra.

~ Indicates a time change

--- Indicates a POV change

A/N: This is my very late submission to @kellyn1604 challenge hope you guys like it. I’ll be in the woods for about a week, but I’ll upload an equally late submission to a challenge when I get back. 

XXX

It was never meant to go down like this. You had answered a silly job as an assistant with a company; never did you think you’d be helping a man who leads a terrorist movement looking to take over the world. 

You wanted out the minute you saw the asset. The way Alexander treated him wasn’t human. Even though he insisted he wasn’t, he was an experiment of sorts, it still didn’t sit well with you. His icy cold eyes held life, even if they did make you queasy every time you looked into them. 

Very rarely did you go into where the assassin was kept with Pierce, but when you did he always stared at you until his attention was drawn back to his abusers. The instruments made you feel awful, so you avoided invitations inside as much as possible. The machines that tortured him when he did wrong, the ice he was put in to keep him alive, the electricity that would go through his brain to make him forget. You wondered how old he truly was and who he was. Did he have a family? What did he do to get here?

~

You gasped as you woke up with a jolt from your nightmare. The same blue eyes that had met yours for 5 years refused to go, even in your dreams. You saw him everywhere; the Winter Soldier. After he was ordered to kill Captain America, Hydra was found out. Many were arrested and tried, some people had to go into hiding, including yourself, and others were ordered to rebuild under a new name. After Alexander was killed you had faked your death and ran away to Vienna. Nobody knows where the Winter Soldier went. 

That all had been nearly two years ago. You had moved on in every sense. You had gotten a new job, and this one you loved. Sure, it wasn’t anything you dreamed of doing as a little girl, but it awarded you the privacy you sought. You weren’t ready to reconnect with the world yet. Plus the hours were flexible and no job beats the one where you can be at work in your home in your PJ’s. 

You went out once a week for groceries. You didn’t have a tv, a computer, and the only time you used your burner phone was for work. You kept yourself entertained with the old books left in your old apartment. It was a life different from the one you were used to, but that’s what you liked about it. 

Today was the day you go shopping for food. You sat up in your bed, noticing the little bit of sunlight that passed through the black blankets you’d hung on the windows as makeshift curtains. 

You got up and started your routine before heading out the door. The small market was filled with buyers bargaining for better prices and sellers yelling their final price. You make your way from the seafood to the fruit; the seafood was always the first thing to go in the market. Vienna seemed to have too much fruit. 

As you’re checking out the apples you start feeling watched. You look around but see nobody. Weird. You get enough fruit to keep you satiated for the week so you leave the market as soon as you can. The less human contact and time outside as possible the better, and you were starting to feel off. Someone was watching you, you could feel it, but no matter how many times you turn you see nobody looking. Thank God the walk home is short. 

When you get near your apartment you run up the brick stairs and shove the key into the door, pulling it open and slamming it closed then locking it. You didn’t realize you had been running until you tried to catch your breath and calm your crazy heart. 

You look outside through the peephole before concluding nobody followed you. And if they did they at least left you alone for now. You walked to the kitchen to set down the mesh grocery bag before unloading everything. 

That’s when you heard it. 

The only way into this apartment other than the front door was the fire escape that was connected to the window in your bedroom. The sound of the window opening, no matter how faint it was, has been trained by you to be heard. Your irrational fears of being robbed or found while you're sleeping has finally helped you as you quietly reach for the knife on the counter. 

You continue unpacking and pretend like you didn’t hear a thing in order to trick the intruder. You keep the knife in front of you on the counter, hidden by your body, as your ear strains to listen to what’s happening behind you. 

“You don’t live where I expected.”

Your eyes widened at the voice. The amount of times you heard that voice is less than the amount you saw the face connected to it, but you could recognize it in a concert of sounds. 

You spin around with the knife in your hand to see the man who plagued your nightmares. The Winter Soldier.

He looked down at the puny weapon in your hand. It would do little to protect yourself against the super soldier, but it helped your confidence a bit. He smiled at your shaking grasp on the knife.

“Do you think that’ll work?”

“What are you doing here?”

The man narrowed his eyes at you a bit before ignoring your question. He made a move and you stuck out the knife in a threatening manner. It did nothing to the assassin as he reached for the milk you had just bought, and popped the cap off before taking a few sips. He wiped his mouth before continuing. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You’re hard to trace, you know.” Your breathing is getting more erratic and your heart is beating so loud you can hear it. But even if you couldn’t you know the superhuman before you could. “Do you remember me?” His eyes seem searching, like he’s not sure he’s got the right person. Or if he’s confused as to why you’re scared to see him. 

“Yes.” The man nods at your response. 

“After my last mission I was on the run from Hydra. I wasn’t sure what would become of it, but after figuring out I started a plan. I started tracking down the people who the government failed to bring into custody and killing them one by one.” Fuck. “At first I wasn’t looking for you, you hadn’t hurt me after all. I could see your hesitation every time you saw me.” Then why are you here? “But then I remembered the way you looked at me. How disgusted you were. You saw me for the monster that I was.” The man paused, waiting to see if you’d argue. You didn’t. You couldn’t. He was right, even if you felt bad for him, you saw him as a war machine, murderous monster.

“So, I tracked you down. I found you on a car camera at the market, but you never leave. I thought I had the wrong place for the longest time, but today I finally saw you. моя маленькая сука.” The blue eyes that haunted you weren’t dead anymore, they held a flame now that terrified you. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I am. If I had any idea what was going on I would’ve never accepted the job. I was just trying to work, I’m sorry. Please, just go.”

The man just scoffed at your words. “You would’ve never taken the job, but you wouldn’t have helped me. You wouldn’t have helped innocent people. You think I wanted to kill all those people? I still see their faces, no matter how many times they fried my brains, I can’t fucking forget! I don’t have the option to just run away. Unlike you, you fucking bitch!”

You jumped as he was starting to get angrier, the container of milk crushed in his metal fist, leaking down to the floor. Tears started to sting your eyes and you were shaking even worse. “Please, I get why you’re angry, but you don’t have to do this.”

“And you didn’t have to keep quiet for all those years, but you did. Didn't you?” You shook your head. He didn’t get it, you could’ve died. You had no choice but to stay silent. “My name’s James Buchanan Barnes by the way. Everyone called me Bucky. I had a life, a family, friends. A career that I loved. Hydra took all that from me and turned me into the thing you see today. I should’ve died a long time ago; but now I’m as mad as Hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”

The soldier suddenly lunged at you, twisting your wrist causing you to scream out. You dropped the knife to the floor with a clang, and you were shoved against the counter with your back to the man who had broken back into your life. 

“I could easily kill you, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t always have a thing for you. The way your ass would look in your pencil skirts, it made me feel normal again, the feelings I’d get when I’d see you. Well, that is until Hydra just fucked me up again.” He whispered low in your ear as you felt him unbuckling his pants. Your struggles were kept to a minimum due to the metal arm holding your body uncomfortably close to the wooden counter. 

“I used to even daydream about a life with you. White picket fence, big house, two kids, the whole nine yards. The normal shit I had as a kid.” the man dryly chuckled, “How stupid of me.”

Without warning he slaps your ass. Hard. He gripped your panties before shoving them down your legs, riding your dress up your thigh to reveal yourself to him. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your face get hot with embarrassment. 

The soldier suddenly drops to his knees and grabs your ass cheeks in his hands, spreading yourself more for him to see. He moaned before diving right in, licking at you slit. You moaned out before you could catch it with your hand causing the man to groan into your core. 

“You like that don’t you?” Slap. “Fucking slut.” 

The man continued to eat you out as you reached hopelessly for an escape. He held you steady and firm up to his face, and you had no control over the vulgar sounds that were leaving your mouth. 

You let out a high pitched scream as the soldier started sucking on your pearl of nerves, driving you over the edge into ecstasy. He continued to suck up all that you had to offer him before standing up.

“You’re slutty cunt has me hard as a fucking rock, you know that?” Another slap to your backside has you jolting forward just a bit and groaning out at the pain that blurred the line of pleasure.

You heard more clothes shuffling before you felt something hot poke at your entrance. “Ready Babygirl?” The man chuckled as you shook your head. 

“Please, you can still stop! I won’t tell anyone, just let me go!”

“Aw, imagine it being your choice.” With that he shoved himself to his limit within you. You both moaned out at the feeling of your walls stretching around the thick member inside you, pulling at him as he moved deeper.

“You’re tighter than I always imagined, Doll.” the soldier moaned into your ear, starting to find a rhythm inside you. He wasted no time using your body as his toy. He deserved this after all that Hydra put him through. After all that you allowed him to be put through.

“Y-you’re hurting me!” 

“Good.”

You’re closing your eyes so hard you can see stars. You feel hot tears escape from your eyes as you’re trying to wait out the torture your body was being subject to. Pretty soon the pain is too much and you’re sobbing.

“What are you crying for, bitch?” the man grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back, your scalp burning from his roughness, “You don’t get to cry, not after what you let happen to so many people. You don’t know true pain.” He shoved your head forward and you barely miss hitting your head on the counter. Your neck still hurt from his force, though. 

The Winter Soldier’s movements start to get harder and he starts hitting a spot within you that makes you clench around him, your orgasm creeping up in your lower stomach.

“That’s right, clench my cock, cunt. Just like that and I’ll cum for you. You’ll like that won’t you?” Bucky slapped your ass three times before grabbing your left cheek, making you squeeze him again. “Answer!”

“Yes! Please cum inside me, Bucky!”

That was a mistake.

Bucky shoved your hips into the counter for sure causing bruises to rise. You cry out, more tears escaping down your hot and inflamed cheeks. “Don’t call me that. It’s sergeant to you,” The man growls out at you, “You know that? I was a fucking sargeant before this shit. Respected. Now look at me,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

You can feel blood trickle down your leg as the sergeant continues to abuse your pussy, any orgasm you might’ve had is gone now, replaced with a painful yet numb ach. 

“God, fuck-” You feel warmth spill into your channel as the soldier stills inside you. He pulls out of you, letting your weak and overused body fall to the tile floor painfully. You draw your legs up to your chest as you examine the blood on the floor, some of it gushing out from under your inflamed core. You have no idea what he fractured, he had to have done something, but it sure as Hell hurt. 

You hear a click and look up just as a loud bang is heard. Then everything went black.

---

Bucky looked down at the woman he just fucked, saw how the blood trickled from the bullet wound in her head down to the floor to mix with the blood from her pussy. 

He looked around at the dump she called an apartment. It is a place where nobody can trace easily, he thought. She was the last person he had to kill on his path of revenge, and now he needed somewhere to lay low. Maybe he’ll stay, nobody will realize a difference. The bitch never talked to anyone or interacted with people, and those who did know she existed would probably assume she left or that he was her boyfriend or something. They wouldn’t ask questions. They didn’t care.

Bucky finished putting the food she had gotten away before working on disposing of the body. He smiled to himself, content with the job he had done. It wouldn’t right all his wrongs, but it certainly helped. Besides, revenge is best served out of the ice. 

XXX

Tags: @coconutqueen21 @kellyn1604 @jtargaryen18 @collette04 @nsfwsebbie @what-just-happened-bro @gigistorm @avengerimscreaming @venusavengers @saharzek @navybrat817 @bucksgoat @xoxabs88xox

[taehyungsgrowl]

Duncan x Sugar Babies Angst Pt 2

Can we just appreciate this gif for a moment? I forgot how much I love Duncan Shepherd. 

Thank you all for hanging in there for a year for part 2 lmfao! I hope you enjoy it!

Italics to signify time jump! I hope it makes sense lol

love you!

also...... the fact that this..... is finally out a YEAR after part 1.... what am i?? a hollywood script writer? ugh i hate myself. 

also.. this is really just one version of how the met! i know we’ve talked about different scenarios of how they came together but i liked this one for the storyline :’)

tw: duncan kink shames piss kink (as he should) jjnkdvjskv, a smutty mention, but genrerally pg-13, a lot of fluff. 

word count: somewhere over 4,000 words i think

Duncan huffed as he walked down the narrow aisle of the plane. How the airline mixed his first-class seat for an economy one was beyond him. But after a stressful conference and being away from his home for so long, he didn’t have the energy to fight them. All he wanted was for this flight to be over. 

He glanced at his boarding pass and back up to the numbers above the seats. 18 B. A middle seat. As if this could get any worse, he thought to himself. 

Duncan’s sharp blue eyes found where he would be seating; he held in a sigh as he noticed his seat mates were already in their designated seats. 

Y/N peeked up at the man who stuffed his carry on in the overhead compartment. She tried not to stare as his shirt rode up his tummy exposing a bit of skin. She looked over at her best friend, Jim who was watching out the window with his headphones in. 

“Excuse me,” the older man offered her an almost shy smile as he asked her to stand so he could take his damned middle seat. 

“Oh! Sorry!” Y/N stood from her seat allowing Duncan to squeeze in between her and Jim. 

After Duncan was seated, Y/N reached over his lap to tap Jim on the shoulder, “Sorry, sir,” she told Duncan - he lifted his hands and nodded, “You’re good.” he flashed her a quick smile. 

“What time do we land again?” she asked when Jim removed his headphones. Duncan glanced between the two; curiosity took over him as he wondered whether they were a couple. They were both very attractive, roughly around the same age, and had arrived together.

“10:00 p.m” Jim shook his head at his best friend. He loved her to death - truly. No one else could convince him to fly across the country with so much uncertainty. 

“I’m sorry,” Duncan interrupted, “If you two are.. Together, I can switch seats with one of you.”

“Oh no! We don’t mind, sir! Thank you.” she glanced at him once again. 

Duncan tried to get comfortable before the plane took off - he had a long day and an even longer flight ahead of him. 

The flight attendant started to make her way down the aisle 

“What would you like to drink,” she set down napkins on each of their trays. 

“I’ll take a Sprite,” Jim answered, giving her a sweet smile. “Me too,” Y/N echoed. 

While she worked on getting their sodas, she turned her attention to Duncan, who was taking out his AirPods, “Anything for you, sir?” 

“Scotch; neat.” he nodded, putting his earpiece back in. 

Thinking back to that flight, it’s hard for Duncan to recall how one thing lead to the next. 

Y/N, always the extrovert in Jim and Her’s duo, asked Duncan what brought him to Washington D.C. 

He told her he worked for a company there, being careful not to divulge too much personal information (like the fact that he was the heir of the company in question). 

“And you two?” Duncan glanced at Jim. Duncan wasn’t used to small talk on planes - but he had a few drinks on an empty stomach making him looser than he’d normally be. 

“Uh..” Jim hesitated, giving Y/N a panicked look. 

“Work!” she answered, 

Duncan gave her a puzzling look, but decided to not press it. 

What Duncan had expected to be a long flight, literally, flew by, with conversation with Jim and Y/N. 

They were careful not to give each other any information that felt too personal, but it was easy to just listen to his interests. 

Before they knew it, the flight was over and they parted ways. 

Duncan lingered with them as they gathered their bags. It’d been so long since he had real conversations with people who weren’t just interested in his power or company. 

Duncan watched out the window of the car that his chauffeur picked him up in as Jim and Y/N stood by the curb, fumbling with their phones for an Uber. 

‘I should have offered them a ride’, he thinks as the shrink off into the distance. 

--

Not a week had gone by since Duncan arrived back home when he already had another event lined up for the weekend. Perks of being the face of the Shepherd Foundation often times felt more like chores. 

At least the Gala was just out of a D.C and he didn’t need to worry about an airline messing up his seat again. 

He smiled and waved at the flashing cameras. 

As the night started Duncan made his way through familiar faces and strangers. A glass of champagne secured in his hand as he made rounds.

As elegant as these events were, they were often a bore - especially when he came alone. He found himself seated alone at the bar waiting for his eyes to land on someone he found vaguely interesting enough to chat up. 

His eyes scanned the room until they fell on a pair that seemed to be new comers. The woman wore a silk red gown with a low back, tracing over her figure. When Duncan turned his attention over to the man that stood by her, he realized he recognized them. 

Jim fumbled with the cuffs of his shirt, trying to keep himself together before his “date” got back to him. 

Duncan recognized them from his flight back a few days ago. Truly, D.C was smaller than he realized. He picked up his drink from the bar and strolled over to them, easy grin on his face. 

“Hey, 18 A and 18 C, right?” he glanced them up and down a bit. He almost could have gone the whole night without realizing who they were - they cleaned up so well from the old t-shirts and sweats they were wearing on the flight to the designer clothes they wore now. 

Jim felt his face go hot. Both he and Y/N had gushed over the handsome man they sat next to after that flight. 

“Hope our first clients are as hot as that guy...”

“HA!” Y/N let out a humorless laugh, “If only...”

Y/N kept her cool demeanor, offering Duncan a sly smirk.  “Hi stranger,” 

“Duncan.” his lips. tugged up into a smile, “Duncan Shepherd.” 

Y/N and Jim had assumed right to think Duncan was just the kind of guy they sought after as a client. The way he carried himself screamed wealth and power. 

“And you two are...” he raised a brow, waiting for their names. He hadn’t seen them at any other gala or even so he knew they were new comers. Maybe heirs to some fortune 500 company. His eyes wandered around the room wondering who their parents were. Duncan had the reputation of getting “inside information” on some of his competitors by pulling his charms on their trust fund babies. 

“Working,” 

Duncan chuckled, raising his champagne flute, “Work hard, play hard, right?” his gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips. 

“Duncan,” his attention was called by a big name politician that had appeared at Y/N’s side. “It’s been too long,” he extended his hand out for a shake. “Tell me, how is the development of your app coming? We really could use someone like you before reelection,” he laughed. 

Duncan didn’t fail to notice his hand on Y/N’s waist (or the tight lipped smile she had as soon as the man appeared). 

“You’ll be the first to know when it’s ready,” Duncan answered, tearing his eyes away from his hand. 

“James,” another man approached them. Duncan had seen him before at other events. The man looped his arm in Jim’s before handing him a drink. He leaned in and whispered something in Jim’s ear, making him blush. 

Duncan lingered between them, easily making conversation until both men made their rounds for more drinks, leaving him with Y/N and Jim again. 

If he knew anything, he knew the game the powerful in D.C played. And he knew well enough to know what kind of work Jim and Y/N were doing. 

“Working,” he gave them a knowing smile. He raised his flute to them before taking a long sip, drowning back his champagne. 

He watched the color flood to Jim’s cheeks again and it only made him chuckle. It wasn’t past Duncan to hire an escort. Dating as an up and coming business mogul doesn’t always allow him the time for dating or anything other than business. Sometimes, he just needed to secure his own private deals. Much less of a hassle than having to deal with the entanglements of relationships.

Duncan wasn’t a callous man. He planned on settling down at some point. He was an older bachelor. Well seasoned - he didn’t mean to sound cocky but it wasn’t that he didn't have the opportunity. He didn’t want that - not yet at least. 

“Walk with me,” he nodded his head towards the hallway. 

Y/N looked over at Jim, both exchanging in a silent conversation before following alongside Duncan. They turned the corner into a quiet hallway away from the gala. 

“You both clean up nice,” he smirked, “Although, I personally loved your airport wardrobe,” he winked. 

Y/N mirrored his smirk, reaching forward to adjust his pristine tie, “Are you wanting to talk business Mr. Shepherd? If not... our clients are waiting.”

Duncan chuckled. “I’d like to propose something more... exclusive.” He searched their eyes, smile tugging on his lips. He remembered enough about his flight with them to know he liked them. And now, seeing them look so... sexy. “Let me take care of you.” 

Jim shifted back and forth on his feet. He was sure the offered only stood for Y/N. He looked down at the floor, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Both of you,” Duncan met Jim’s eyes. 

“You two made for great... companions on the plane. If you’re willing to,” he coughed awkwardly into his fist for a pause, “extend your uh... companionship -- I can be very generous.”

“Like a sugar daddy!?” Jim finally spoke up, his voice dripping in a mixture of surprise and interest. 

Duncan shrugged easily, his thumb running over his bottom lip. “That’s one way to put it,” he bit his lip. He reached into his card holder and handed them a beautifully embossed business card. 

“Give me a call if you need to think about it. Unless you’d rather go up to my room to... discuss it further,” he chuckled. 

Y/N and Jim remember ditching their dates to follow Duncan to his suite. Hushed whispers between them as they got the courage to take up Duncan’s offer. 

None of them knew the love that was about to blossom for them that night. They sat out on the balcony of his suite, letting the cool breeze hit their skin. Always the gentleman, Duncan didn’t initiate any advances that night. He bought them room services and gave them a safe space away from the former clients. 

They curled up in the California king bed just talking like they had on their flight. 

“Uh so... what exactly do you like,” Y/N asked. She fidgeted with the gems on her dress. It was beautiful - beyond what she could ever afford, but it was starting to become uncomfortable.

“Cashmere and fine wine,” Duncan laughed, making Y/N roll her eyes. He caught her struggle with getting comfortable. He got off the bed and found his small suitcase they’d brought up for him, digging for his pajamas. He placed a few comfy items on the bed, “If you two.. wanna get more comfortable,” he smiled sheepishly. 

Y/N sat up on her knees sorting through the clothes and tossing a tshirt at Jim. “Seriously like... we have to know what you... enjoy, daddy..” she pouted, playfully testing the waters. 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but there was no hiding the fact that he did like the sound of that. “I don’t have a piss kink or anything like that,” he scrunched his nose, “But,” he got closer, tilting her chin up, “I’d like to hear you that again for me some time.” 

--

Y/N and Jim floated back down from cloud 9 a few days later when they were back in their not to luxurious apartment. 

After that first night, they spent the next two days at Duncan’s penthouse slowly going over what the arrangement would entail (although, if they were being honest most of the time was spent between Duncan’s bed and sharing sharing pastries with Duncan on his balcony). 

Duncan pulled up up to their run down complex. He’d been having so much fun during the past few days, he didn’t want it to come to an end yet. 

Duncan didn’t say what he wanted to say, but he felt a strong distaste for where they were living. 

They’d just moved to the city and started working when they met Duncan - they were still hoping to make enough money to find a nice place. This was just a temporary stay. 

It wasn’t long before Duncan gave them an extra key to his place...

“I figured if where you’re staying is just temporary... you’d rather stay here..”

Duncan knew he could easily get them their own loft or apartment, but he was enjoying them being there more than he realized he would. 

He knew starting this arrangement would be fun. He knew he liked them. He just hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been before. 

He looked up at the ceiling as Y/N and Jim slept on either side of him... reminding himself that for them... it was just a job. A way to get their things paid for. But then again... it was he wanted, right?

Another realization that came far later for Duncan Shepherd was that to Jim and Y/N... it had also become much more than a job. 

--

For Jim, he remembers the moment he knew he was falling for not only Duncan, but his friend of many years, was on one of the first trips Duncan ever took them too. Jim had always wanted to be near the ocean. He had such bittersweet memories connected to it. But for him now, the sweetest one comes from laughing in the sand after convincing Duncan to try and surf. Y/N was rubbing sunscreen on their backs soon turning into a pile of kisses on to one another with the sunsetting softly over the horizon. 

From the beginning, it never felt “mechanical” or “strictly business” with Duncan. Not like their first few clients. It’d always been easy with Duncan. Maybe it was the initial crush Jim had developed on the plane that made the difference. Either way he knew he loved Duncan. 

--

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for Jim before the whole affair started. She often brushed it off as just a friend crush -- but after being with him and Duncan things began to develop quickly. She loved them both so much in their own way. They each filled different parts of her heart to make her feel whole. 

The moment she knew -- the moment she took them to uncharted territory by being the first to say “I love you,” was after she’d spent the day in bed crying. Feeling so vulnerable after a hard day. She felt herself isolating herself from Jim... from Duncan. 

She remembers them silently coming into the room to hold her. Duncan let her cry on his chest while Jim played with her hair. In that moment of safety, she whispered, “I love you,” and there was no question as to who it was directed to -- because they knew she loved them both. 

--

“You want to what?” Duncan spoke, his composure faltering. “I don’t - I’m sorry.” he felt loss for words. He hadn’t noticed that his hands started to shake until Jim reached forward to take his hand in his own. 

“Shh,” Jim cooed. Duncan wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to being the one who needed to be babied. He wasn’t the one who needed his hand held, for Christ’s sake. 

“Hear us out.” Jim led Duncan down on the chair. 

“Duncan.” Y/N’s voice was clear and steady. “We don’t want to be your sugar babies anymore. We don’t want this to be…” she searched for her words, “an exchange.” 

Jim rubbed her back reassuringly. “You mean so much more to us than the nice things you buy us. We want you, Duncan. We want to end the arrangement because we want to be with you. Like, as a real relationship.” she peeked up at him from her lashes, “If you’ll have us,” she nodded her up towards Jim, who was all but vibrating next to her. 

Duncan blinked back tears. The knot in his throat made it hard for him to say anything. All he could do was nod - nod and let the tears fall freely from his eyes. 

Y/N reached up to his face, wiping it clean. “Is that a yes?” her lips tugged into a smile.

Duncan cleared his throat and took both of their hands in his, “Of course. Yes. A million times yes.” 

The way they made him feel so loved - after years of feeling like he wasn’t capable of it, and here he was -- madly in love with two beautiful souls. They wanted - they loved him for him!! He knew it in his heart before that morning but hearing it sent his heart into overdrive. 

--

He called into the office that morning to be able to spend the day with the people he loved the most. The idiots back at the Shepherd Foundation could figure it out on their own. 

After that restless night, they all needed all the R & R they could get. 

After a few mimosas and waffles, Y/N and Jim dragged Duncan out to their hot tub on their back patio. Duncan had that hot tub long before he met Jim and Y/N, but didn’t start to truly enjoy it until they moved in with him. 

Duncan sighed as he slipped into the hot water, the jet pressure working against his calves. “Well,” he smiled up at them, “Are you not going to join me?” 

Y/N smirked at him right before grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. She exposed herself completely stripping down to nothing before she slowly made it down the steps into the water, “Mhmm,” she sighed as she took a seat next to Duncan. 

Duncan chuckled softly, shaking his head, “Baby?” he called over to Jim, his hand, already wandering up Y/N’s thigh. 

Jim followed Y/N example and stripped off his clothing before climbing into the tub, on the other side of Duncan. “You’re overdressed,” Jim mumbled into Duncan’s neck, snaking his hand into the waistband of the little black trunks...

--

Duncan told himself he wouldn’t cry. After everything they’ve been through - it had led to this...

His toes dug into the white sand as he looked out into the sea. He couldn’t have chosen a better place - his their beach house was their haven. Their little slice of paradise. It was only natural for them do it there. 

Every thing was picture perfect. The sky was a beautiful array of purples and pinks, reflecting on the clear water. To his left, a gorgeous set up of candles, blankets, twinkle lights, and a picnic of his babies’ favorite treats. 

Jim and Y/N knew that Duncan had been planning something for weeks now. When he booked a getaway to their beach house, he didn’t allow them to lift a finger packing. Told them he’d take care of it all. And he did. 

He had their outfits laid out on their bed for them. For Jim, he had a thin pair of linen pants in a light sandy colored with a baby blue shirt of the same material. Y/N’s wasn’t too different. He had a white dress of the same fabric. It was soft and flowy - perfect for the beach. 

They made their way down to the beach where Duncan waited for them. He turned to face them, his hands behind his back, biting down on his lip to try and keep it together, 

He knew they were his life and he was spending forever with them.

“Duncan,” Y/N breathed out, her eyes going over the set up. She reached for his hand, “This is beautiful,” 

Duncan squeezed her hand, and took Jim’s in the other one. 

“I have something for you,” he dropped their hands and dug a little velvet bag out of his pocket. “I know there isn’t anything... traditional,” he laughed, “about our relationship, but” he pulled the string of the baggie and dumped the contents of it into his palm. He played with the cool metal, shifting them around his hand. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way and,” he paused to look into their eyes, “I’d want to spend the rest of my days with you,”

He took his time, placing a finger on Jim’s finger and then YN’s. “Since we can’t really do a courthouse wedding,” he laughed, taking both of their hand again - this time adorned with the precious jewels he gifted them, “I figured, we could do something more our style,” he gestured towards the romantic scenery he’d set. 

“Will you take me to be yours forever?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Jim and Y/N replied their “I do”’s over each other. When Jim noticed the tears pooling in Y/N’s eyes, he reached over to wipe her cheek. 

Duncan couldn’t smile any more if he tried. Jim loved the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled that big. Duncan’s hair blew softly in the gentle breeze. His peppered hair matched his graying beard, but like the fine wines he adored, he aged well. 

He pulled them closer, caressing their cheeks before kissing them. 

He loved them. Duncan Shepherd had found love.

Y/N and Jim embraced him with everything they had. They never wanted to let each other go - but when they finally did, Duncan popped the champagne, loving the way Y/N giggled when the bubbles poured out of the bottle. 

By the time they downed the champagne and cake on the beach, the buttons of Duncan’s shirt where messily unbuttoned. He had sand in his hair and lipstick marks on his neck. 

The sun was close to being gone, but the candles and fairy lights were enough for them. The were covered in the soft glow of the moon. 

Duncan’s heart felt so warm as he watched Y/N feed Jim another bite of cake. Jim’s laughter like music to his ears. Jim caught his eye and crawled over to Duncan. He swung his legs over Duncan’s thighs and sat on him. Jim took his face in his hands and kissed him tenderly. 

Jim found his place. 

He found a home with Duncan and Y/N - a home with nothing but love to offer and he was ready for it. 

They each had their space in each others hearts and it melted perfectly into who they were. 

Who would think that a day would come when Duncan Shepherd would be thanking his lucky stars for an economy flight seat?

--

Tags: @desertsunflower00 @xavierplympton @quillanpie @spoo-per @langdons-pinkyring @little-grunge-flowerz @sexwon131 @leatherduncan @royalblueviper @shenevertricks1831 @sadhoecentral @chloelucia13 @shyvirgoanon @langdonswhoreprobably @littledemondani @bitchchatter @rpwithjayn @chloelucia13 @agonydearest @midnightontheearth @7-wonders @prophecy-is-inevitable @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @wickedlangdon @fckinsupreme @michael-langdon-appreciation @jimmason @brattylovee @dark-mei-rose @lovelylangdonx @blakewaterxx @dyns33 

sorry if i missed someone!

and please LMK what you think 🥺

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Four

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Of Whispers and Wishes

There were voices distant and fading.

He wasn't alone.

His fingers twitched for his sword, but he found he couldn't move... He couldn't see...

Again, he heard the whispers. Quicker this time like the rush of a wind gust.

He wasn't alone.

Geralt...

He knew that voice.

Geralt...

Leave him. He needs to rest...

He was tired. So very tired, but he couldn't rest just yet. He fought to open his eyes, to gain purchase of his surroundings. He needed that knowledge. Knowledge was power. Knowledge was safety.

Where the fuck was he?

Geralt, wake up you oversized log.

Jaskier.

Jaskier. The bard, a dim sense of relief flowed through him as he finally placed that voice. Jaskier potentially meant safe... Or trapped. Gods be damned if he needed to save them both when he woke. The voices drifted away and he was left feeling cold before the darkness swallowed him again.

»»————-　　————-««

The next time awareness clawed at his senses something wet was being pressed against his neck. The sensation was not pleasant and instinctively he reacted to the threat as a flair of pain tore down his flesh and into the muscles of his back. His hand closed around a slim throat and his golden eyes flew open only seconds later, just as a choked cry reached his ears. Startled grey eyes glared into his as he felt tugging at his clenched hand.He only had time to register the woman's face before she was ripped away from him. A bolt of shock slammed through him as her visage was replaced by a more familiar pair of blue eyes and a rush of words that he couldn't quite catch.

Jaskier.

The bard was torn between concern and wariness as they eyed each other, "Have you come to your senses?"

That Geralt finally understood as he slowly nodded. His gaze flickered to the figure hiding in Jaskier's shadow. Grey eyes shined leerily at him and he couldn't fault her hesitation, even as his earlier shock returned in full force.

Renfri.

He was staring at a ghost.

Jaskier shifted more fully into his view, effectively blocking the girl. It was a protective stance, Geralt recognized it instantly and nearly raised a brow, "Where am I?"

Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "In the home of the woman you almost just killed. We really need to work on your manners."

Geralt grimaced slightly and sought out his hostess again. He had killed her. Except... her coloring was wrong. Her eyes. Her hair... Jaskier didn't seem inclined to move from his view until a set of slim fingers tugged at his arm and sent him a reproachful look. She spoke quietly, her voice a little hoarse, "He wasn't aware of what he was doing, Jaskier. I should have been more gentle than I was, I probably hurt him."

Jaskier snorted but slumped to sit on the corner of the bed. His attention now on the woman as he eyed her throat in concern. Already the faint gleam of bruising was beginning to arise and Geralt felt a slim tendril of guilt twist in his gut, but even then, he couldn't stop staring at her in wonder.

"You recognize me." She stated more than asked as she pulled over a bowl that held a damp rag.

He raised a brow and tilted his head to give her better access to the wound he could feel throbbing, "You look like someone that I knew."

She didn't seem surprised as she nodded and continued her ministrations. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jaskier frown in confusion as he observed the pair, "And who pray tell, would that be, Geralt? While we're at it, where the hell have you been? And what attacked you?"

His only response was a swift glare as he asked, "How long have I been gone?"

"Oh yes, let's ignore all my questions like they have no bloody bearing at all." Jaskier scoffed indignantly and stood from the bed to storm over to the window in a tiff.

A smile twitched at the woman's lips as she watched the bard's dramatics, "Jaskier..."

"Don't Jaskier, me." He imparted sulkily as he turned to give her a sullen glare, "Two days I've spent with you chastising me."

She shook her head in exasperation and rolled her eyes as she met Geralt's stare again, "He's been worried about you and driving me mad at the same time."

Another scoff sounded from the window, but both the witcher and the woman ignored it, "We found you two nights ago when Jaskier was walking me home."

Geralt couldn't help the sage look he leveled at her. He knew what Jaskier's penchant for acting the gentleman usually resulted in. A light flush entered her cheeks as she caught his silent insinuation, but she continued, "Jaskier performed at the Rose and Pine for three nights prior to that – So about five days since you've seen your barker, I'd wager. However, Jaskier is right, we do need some answers. What has attacked you and should we still be worried about it?"

She even sounded like Renfri.

"Jaskier and I were being stalked on our way into Glynedol." Geralt rumbled.

"We were what?" Jaskier squawked with wide eyes, "Why am -"

"It was a fleder. There was a pair of them preying on travelers from Toussiant." The Witcher continued ignoring his companion, "I've dispatched both, but not before one managed to cleave into my armor. You should have no further worries."

He had been annoyed when he felt the leather begin to rent. It would take more coin then he could spare to get it fixed. The woman nodded and finished bandaging his wound, "Good... You're lucky to be alive after losing as much blood you did. You should rest for a few more days before trying to stand."

"Hmm. Thank you." Geralt grunted in acknowledgment, he caught her wrist when she moved to stand, "What's your name?"

"Lyrra." She offered after a moment's hesitation. She began to gather her supplies, now avoiding his stare.

"You seemed to expect me to know you."

Lyrra paused as she looked at him contemplatively, "Not exactly."

There was a long silence as they studied each other. Geralt's mind raced with the puzzle she presented. The familiarity in her features almost hurt, "You knew her... You were family?"

Again, there was no question.

"She was my sister." Lyrra said softly, "You wouldn't be the first to confuse me for her."

Geralt stiffened, guilt and regret churned his gut, but so did wariness. He had killed her sister, after all.

Jaskier remained uncharacteristically quiet as tension abruptly drowned the room. His gaze flicked between the pair.

As if suddenly realizing what he must be thinking, Lyrra smiled softly... bitterly, "If you're expecting me to avenge her, you'll be waiting a long time."

Geralt shook his head, ignoring the twinge from doing so, "You could have killed me while I was unconscious."

"Yes." Lyrra uttered demurely, a tired pain lingered behind her eyes, "So what are you expecting?"

There was silence.

"I don't know." Geralt murmured softly. He hadn't expected her passivity, that was for damn sure, "Not this."

Lyrra snorted, suddenly amused, "Well... that makes two us."

In that moment, Geralt knew he had nothing to fear from her. She looked like her sister, she sounded like her... but she was different. Calm where Renfri had been wild. There had been an edge to Renfri's every action, almost an unpredictability that reminded him of fire. She was fierce in her pain and even more so in her anger.

"I suppose I should thank you." Lyrra stated, nearly startling him from his musings, "She knew she would die that day, but... You still tried to save her. Even when she was gone, you tried to save her. For that I thank you. - Her body was never dissected by Stregobor. I saw to that."

Marilka no longer had quite such a pretty face.

A sense of relief filled him at that knowledge and pity, "You were there."

Lyrra nodded, "She hid me in the rooms above the market. I was nine at the time, but I saw – heard everything. I don't blame you for her death. I blame my mother and Stregobor."

A furrow creased his brow, "Why would she have you with her? She had been exiled from home long before then."

A hard glint entered Lyrra's eyes, "There is much of what went on then that you are unaware. As you said, she had been driven off years prior, but with the death of my mother, she was drawn back. Vengeance had been stolen from her; you see? And she found that just because she was gone, didn't mean the horrors in that house ever stopped. My sister saved me when no one else would."

"Renfri never killed Aridea, did she?"

Lyrra merely blinked lazily at him, she had no intention of answering.

Geralt didn't know what to do with that – there was more to this story than what he was seeing, but he wasn't up to asking those questions or hearing her answers. He didn't have to as Jaskier remembered his voice "You were nine... Your sister was Renfri. Princess of Creyden?"

Lyrra sighed and met his gaze over her shoulder as she nodded. Geralt could see her discomfort at the admittance and he realized why a second later as he watched Jaskier pale, "You're Princess Lyrrana de Sansa of Creyden."

Lyrra frowned at him, "Not many people are aware of my existence, much less my full former title."

At this Geralt arched a brow curiously – she had to be of royal blood if Renfri had been her sister. Surely, there would have been an announcement of her birth at the very least, but that didn't explain Jaskier's pallor.

The bard wiped a hand over his mouth and took a deep breath as he stared almost stonily at her, "My, uh, my given name is Julian Alfred Pankratz."

It was like a lightning bolt had struck Lyrra with the way she tensed so quickly. She sported the same shell-shocked look as Jaskier as her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before a strained whisper emerged, "Of the Lettenhove Pankratz?"

Jaskier huffed a strangled laugh, "The one and only."

"By the Gods."

"My sentiments exactly. Except with a little more, you know, cursing." The bard responded shakily; sharp nervous energy bounded from him in waves, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Lyrra didn't seem to know how to respond as she looked between the bard and the door. She stood and briskly placed her supplies on the small table next to the bed, "I need air."

"Right."

She was out the door in seconds and Jaskier stared after her with wide eyes, quietly muttering frantically under his breath. Geralt blinked as he caught some of the panicked melees he was spilling, "Jaskier, what the fuck just happened?"

A halting laugh fell from the bard's lips as he stared ironically at Geralt, "Well, Geralt, you and I have just met my betrothed."

"..."

"What? I don't even get a hmm?" Jaskier demanded sarcastically as he began to pace, "Oh, fuck me."

"You should go talk to her."

"I can see my father's smug decrepit face now." The bard appeared not to have heard him as he continued his frantic movements, "Years he's been trying to pull me back and now... Fuck. Absolute fucking hell."

"Jaskier."

"We should go."

"..." Geralt could only blink as he watched the bard spiral.

"She said you shouldn't stand yet, but you're usually pretty tough. Nothing keeps you down for long."

"Jaskier."

"You can stand, right? I'm sure there's another path to the road."

"..."

"We just need to get back to the inn and grab our stuff and Roach, of course... and just go. We need to go."

"Jaskier."

"You know this all your fault!"

"What?" Geralt growled skeptically as the bard turned on him.

Jaskier's arms flailed as he chased his irrational logic, "If you hadn't gotten yourself hurt, I would have wooed her and bedded her. We would have had a grand time before we were forced to say our goodbyes and none of this mess ever would have come to light. But no! You had to go play hero! Which speaking of – We were being stalked!? You couldn't have mentioned any of this on our trek or was I to find out when some morbid creature was dining on my innards?"

Geralt rolled his eyes and laid back with a groan. He was better off letting the bard wear himself out.

»»————-　　————-««

It took almost an hour before Jaskier was able to calm himself enough to go in search of Lyrra. His betrothal –their betrothal? - wasn't something he had thought of in years. Even then it had seemed like a prison sentence meant to ensnare him in the chokeholds of his family's politics. He may be of royal blood, but that did not mean he wanted to be royal! He had no wish to be part of the evil overlord club – it just wasn't him.

Those thoughts kept on playing in the back of his mind as he sauntered down the dirt path from Lyrra's home. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Geralt was right, they needed to speak. It didn't take him long to find her. She was at the oak tree, sitting on the swing with such a sad expression on her face that he paused in his approach, the bruising around her throat only made her seem more desolate.

What had she wanted?

Obviously not to marry him, if the way she had all but ran from her own home was any indication to go by. He should be relieved but felt somewhat offended by that notion. Honestly, what did he have to offer her? He no longer stood to inherit as a count, that dubious honor went to his cousin. Thank the Gods. He was a bard with no more coin to his name than what he could earn. More than that he had no home to offer her. He wouldn't settle... not yet at any rate. Not while there was still so much of the world to see.

He watched silently as a light breeze pulled locks of her chestnut hair out of her braid to frame her face. She let that same wind propel the swing lazily as she stared off into the distance. She was beautiful. He had known that the first time he got a good look at her face.

She was his. A small voice whispered in the back of his mind. A voice he knew better than to listen to.

He sighed uncomfortably before finishing his walk to her, "Nary a cloud in the sky. I can only assume that they've come to collect in your dampened spirits..." He crossed his arms in a pale defense as he abruptly segued into the cloud hovering over them, "So, marriage..."

He grimaced as Lyrra's eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn't decipher before a wall erected and protected any thoughts, she may have from him, "I do hope, you don't expect me to honor our families' contract. I won't marry you."

Jaskier cocked a brow incredulously and tried not to feel the sting of rejection in those too firm words, "Don't be ridiculous, it doesn't suit you. I can't even get you to sleep with me. What makes you think that even if I wanted to that I could get you to marry me."

He smirked as an unwilling smile tugged at her lips.

"Though." He lost his humor and tried not to frown as her hands tightened on the ropes of the swing, "Though it wouldn't take much for you to get me to marry you, Princess. All you would have to do is let the world – hell not even the world, just my parents, know you're still alive and I'll have my entire family hounding me to take your hand."

Lyrra studied him quietly in contemplation, "And what would marriage to Julian Alfred Pankratz look like?"

"Oh, extremely dull." Jaskier answered seriously as he kept her gaze. A thin string of panic tightened in his stomach, "It would be fancy clothes and dinner parties with guests who were less interesting than the dirt beneath our heels. No more music for me. Our conversations would revolve around land and money and children. You'd be expected to bear me an heir. I would find a mistress once the sex became dull... and in twenty years or so, we'd absolutely loathe each other. The usual royal family dysfunction."

His deadpan delivery returned an amused glint to her grey eyes as she asked, "And marriage to Jaskier?"

He nearly froze, surprised that she knew to ask of his dual role. That Julian Pankratz forever belonged with his family, but that he was Jaskier, "Even more tedious. We'd be penniless, with no home. We'd have sex under the stars as often as possible. We'd travel, mostly with Geralt in an attempt to make him mad from our domesticity and over articulation. If we're lucky he might choose to kill us, before one of the monsters he chases after does. We'd meet the most interesting people. There would be no way of knowing if we would end up loving or hating each other, just the knowledge that we tried to care for each other. It's not a life for a princess."

"I'm no princess, Jaskier. Not anymore. Though you shouldn't sell yourself short, marriage to you doesn't sound half bad." Lyrra murmured lowly, "You have nothing to fear from me, however. Lyrrana de Sansa the Bastard Princess of Creyden died long ago, and dead she'll stay. Just like our betrothal."

A part of Jaskier wanted to say 'good' and let it be done, another part of him wanted to pull her into his arms until this horrid mood passed them both by and they could forget that the past few hours ever happened, but it was the side that sparked with questions that ended up taking control as he crouched before her, "Lyrra, what happened to you? What made you run?"

Lyrra sighed and level him with a look that would have made stone weep as she whispered, "A lot of pain, a lot of misery, and seeping scars that run deeper than the ocean. Nothing worth revisiting, I assure you."

For a passing moment, he wondered which of them was the poet. She had done well at hiding her cracks from him in the few short days of their acquaintanceship. He had seen glimpses of a quiet pain she held, but he would never have imagined that she would be sister to Renfri. A witness to the massacre of Blaviken, to her sister's death. What other atrocities had she born to not want to return to Creyden?

He sighed, unsure how to provide her comfort, unsure why he wanted to and why he wasn't headed for the hills now that he knew marriage would not be imminent. He tilted his head thoughtfully as he remembered a time far, far in the past, "I was wrong, you know."

She frowned at him in askance.

"You weren't a terror as a child." He said gently, his eyes searching hers, "Do you remember? We've met once before."

It had been their first meeting; their betrothal had been in negotiation since Lyrra had been born and that day the arrangements were being finalized. She may have been a bastard princess, but she still outranked him. Marriage to her would only elevate his family's status. Not that he was aware of any of that at the time. He was only six months older than her. Six months. He knew because it had been a sign. How auspicious that one royal family gave birth to a boy and in the same year – exactly six months to the day- another royal family, a neighboring one at that, gave birth to a girl. It must be destiny after all.

Her brow furrowed and he knew she didn't remember, "We must have been about five or six. You wore this pale green dress. I only remember because you hated it so much. You wanted trousers like mine, so you could climb a tree without it being unladylike as our mothers had said. You stayed on the ground and I climbed up, because -"

"Because girls were stupid and couldn't do what boys could." Lyrra said as the memory slid into focus. He smiled at her, "You fell and hurt your arm."

"I didn't want my mother to know because she had forbidden me from climbing as well." Jaskier continued, "And you sat with me as I cried. Held my hand and told me it would be okay."

A wistful twist curled at her lips, "We plucked dandelions from the ground the rest of the day and made silly wishes. Even then you made me laugh."

They sat in silence, each lost in that afternoon from ages past. The memory was a precious one. One of the few good ones that he had from his own childhood. It was enough for Jaskier to reach a decision.

"Once upon a time, Lyrrana de Sansa, you were my friend, no matter how briefly." He reached out to entwined their hands together, "Considering we just dissolved our engagement a few moments ago, I would very much like to be friends with you now."

Lyrra chuckled quietly, the air between them lightening with the sound, "Do you even know how to be friends with a girl, Jaskier?"

"Of course, I do." He replied with vague indignancy, "Are you saying that men can't be friends with women?"

"Well, no. Men can." Lyrra bit her lip as she continued, "You, on the other hand-"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze, "What about me?"

Lyrra shook her head at him, "You know exactly how handsome you are, Jaskier. Tell me in the last year, no, the last decade have you been friends with a woman?"

"Of course, I have." Though he grimaced as his mind raced to find a suitable example. It didn't matter. He could be friends with a woman.

Her grin grew as if she could read his thoughts, "Friends don't kiss each other the way we kissed a few nights ago. Or seriously contemplate taking each other to bed."

Well, now there was a line of thought he would never discourage. Jaskier met her grin with one of his own at the memory of that night. Now that the urge to run far and fast was subdued, he'd be damned if that was their last kiss and at her admittance, he hoped for potentially more. He tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her to sit on the ground beside him, "Says you."

But now wasn't the time to push that particular issue, he could and would prove he could be a friend to her. He produced a white dandelion for her to take from under the swing, "Now shush and make a wish, woman."

His bluster proved a mistake as his face was suddenly attacked by the soft seedlings. Lyrra laughed and rolled the now empty stem between her fingers. Jaskier bit back his own laughter, "Oh, this means war, you know?"

A grin stretched across her face and he couldn't help but respond in kind.

Previous Chapter    Next Chapter

[uniasus]

Whumptober Day 7: Isolation

Day seven of whumptober!

You can either read the whole thing on AO3: Isolation or read it here on Tumblr.

Around 1820, Aziraphale started to wonder if something happened. At that point, it'd been roughly forty years since he'd seen Crowley. Not as long as some of their other gaps, but they had been getting shorter lately. Enough so that forty years felt worrying long.

Especially since, when trying to contact the demon on and off for the past three years, he'd gotten no answer.

The problem was, Aziraphale realized when he found himself desiring a dinner or play companion that companion had to be Crowley. Not only did he not think anyone in the Host would want to join him, but he also didn't want any of them there.

Crowley, despite being a demon and the reason original sin existed, was a good being. His actions might have negative consequences, but Aziraphale doubted he was ever purposefully malicious. As such, Aziraphale had come to enjoy his company. Sought it out, once in a rare while, when Crowley had been away too long.

And now, in 1820, he believed he could name the emotion, the sad and itchy feeling he got when not seeing Crowley, as loneliness.

Which should be ridiculous.

Angels shouldn't get lonely, not connected to the Host as they are, and yet...

And yet, all he wanted was to sit across from Crowley for a meal and the inability to do so made me melancholy.

The inability to get a hold of him made Aziraphale nervous.

It was possible Crowley simply wasn't home for the past three years, on a hellish mission perhaps, but that seemed awfully long. And unusual, for typically he would use The Arrangement as a reason to tell Aziraphale about it.

He could have moved, but again, why wouldn't he tell Aziraphale?

Aziraphale came up with excuse after excuse for Crowley's absence, but none of them perfectly fit the situation. Not unless he was missing a piece.

And in 1821, during one of his calls to the party line, he was told that Crowley's number had been disconnected.

###

He spent five years walking through London and trying to find a trace of Crowley. When he found none, and still Crowley didn't contact him, Aziraphale began to think other thoughts.

Maybe Hell had dragged Crowley back. Maybe he'd been discorporated.

Maybe, said the voices in the dark corners of the bookshop at three in the morning, he left you.

Maybe he changed his mind about you. Hates how good you are, hates the bookshop, hates that you won't call him a friend. Maybe he got tired of you, packed up his bags, and left for America.

Maybe he's not coming back, you'll never see him again.

All of a sudden, London seem both very large and very tiny. There was so much to do, see, experience. Aziraphale wanted none of it. He wanted to sit in his armchair and not move.

Which is exactly what he did for two weeks until Gabriel came down asking for an Earthly update. Aziraphale said something about temporarily driving Crowley out of London, which Gabriel backhandedly commended him on.

The Host never told Aziraphale he did a good job. Crowley did that.

Crowley would tell him he picked good wine or did a good deed. Even when he rolled his eyes, Aziraphale detected a hint of fondness. He'd given Aziraphale a nickname. Given Aziraphale gifts. Given him so much.

Was that why he left? Because Aziraphale hadn't given anything in return?

He started collecting wine he thought the demon would like: rich, full-body reds, oaky chardonnays, a spiced mead. Picked up a bronze belt buckle with a snake. Snakeskin boots. A snake tipped cane. Future gifts, for when they met again. Things to say I thought of you, I missed you, Please don't leave me again.

He took a trip to New York City. Then walked through Boston, and Philadelphia, and New Orleans. He didn't find Crowley.

###

Back in London, Aziraphale faced the very real question of what to do without Crowley in his life. The rest of eternity stretched before him: sad, lonely, forever alone.

The demon had, in his own way, made life on Earth worth it. He was excitement and change and energy and suave charm, but most importantly someone to share things with. Crowley would talk about plays with him, pick apart music with him, identify wine flavors, sample new restaurants, sit on the couch and listen to Aziraphale babble.

Life was worth living with others, Aziraphale learned. You could be the best at anything, but you'd still need someone to share your joys with. Your pride. Your sadness. Your fear. Your honest smile.

Despite all of Aziraphale's earthly pleasures, his books and food and ducks, the planet was now out of reach. Crowley's leaving had made Aziraphale's life dim, and as a consequence he felt isolated from all that had once made him happy.

###

Time... slipped. Aziraphale tried to keep busy, to place himself in the world, but oftentimes he'd lose himself in old plays. Think to attend a restaurant's opening weekend, only to find out it was seven years prior. He tried to make friends with the humans who walked into his shop, but little came of it. They wanted to buy books, he didn't want to sell them, and he was so out of touch with the times he usually connected with the elderly who had no energy for late-night shows and drinking binges.

More than once, he thought about asking Gabriel for a new position. Relocate to the Continent. Or return to Heaven. But he knew it wouldn't make him feel better. And a small part of him hoped that one day, Crowley would show up again.

Aziraphale would show him in gifts. Tell him he missed him. Help him find a nearby apartment. And ask Crowley to tell him everything: what he'd seen, what he'd done, enjoyed, disliked, live.

Crowley had slid into Aziraphale's life, and the angel wanted to do the same. After all, if he did, it might prevent Crowley from leaving a second time.

###

The sound of the shop door ringing pulled Aziraphale out of his stupor. He hadn't thought he'd open the store today, but he might have opened it yesterday, or two days ago, and never thought to close it.

Pushing himself out of his chair, he went to shoo the customer out.

Standing before him, dressed to the nines in the height of fashion, was the demon Anthony Crowley.

"Crowley!"

"High ho, Aziraphale."

"Where have you been?!"

"Napping."

"Napping!"

"Yes, napping."

"For almost a hundred years?"

"Ah." Crowley sheepishly held out a box of chocolates. "Only meant to sleep for a few years. Woke up covered in dust and stiff as Hell."

Aziraphale didn't take the chocolates. "Sleeping. All this time. Here in London?"

Crowley nodded. " 'Course. Where else would I go? You're here."

"Oh." Aziraphale didn't blush, but if he had a working human body he suspected he might.

All the gifts he'd gathered for Crowley over that past fifty years didn't make a difference, none would compare to the knowledge that Crowley hadn't left him. That Crowley had been in London the entire time because Aziraphale was there. That Crowley, in a similar manner to Aziraphale's own feelings, couldn't imagine life without the other.

"Come and eat these with me, dear boy." Aziraphale led the way into his shop, "And I'll catch you up on the nineteen century."

[annoyed-galaxy]

Heart of Song

Jespar x Prophetess (Clerissa)

Words: 1510

A small fluff fic with some backstory for my Prophetess.

If you'd like to listen to the song as you read here it is. If you want to wait for the choruses feel free to do that too. I figured I'd put it here for reference 😉

"When the red moon casts its light,

His ghost travels through the night,

Through the forests on wind's wings

Until he reaches the old hill.

There she kneels before his grave,

Where their love had once been born,

And he caresses her face,

Yet she feels not his embrace.

Dark and red, glows the winter sky,

Two souls divided by the threads of time."

Clerissa's eyes were closed as her voice left her mouth in a beautiful melody of sorrow. Her hands were raised above her chest as she played with a ball of frost. She was laying on her back, her head propped up in Jespar Dal'Varek's lap. His fingers ran through her hair which was splayed out all across his legs. He was swaying to the sound of her voice as she sang. Jespar had never had the chance to ever hear her sing. She had never mentioned anything about singing and he had never imagined how beautiful her voice would sound. Her voice was better than any drug or alcohol he would have ever used. The beauty in it cleared all thoughts from his mind. The sorrow pulled at his heart.

As she sang the bridge of the song, her voice echoed through the forest they sat in. The fire cackled, matching the tone of her voice. Goosebumps traveled through Jespar's arms despite the close proximity to the flames. Her voice rose and fell in a beautiful wave, all leading up to the last chorus of the song. Strands of her hair smoothly rushed through his fingers as he ran them through. His heart rose with Clerissa's voice as she sang the last chorus.

"When the red moon casts its light,

His ghost travels through the night,

Through the forests on wind's wings

Until he reaches the old hill.

There she kneels before his grave,

Where their love had once been born,

And as she closes her eyes,

A ray of light breaks through the sky,

And her skin turns into dust

As her soul breaks from its shell

And she joins him in the sky:

Two shapes now freed from grief and time.

Then the winds take them away

Through the woods, it's trees asway,

And she takes him by his hand.

At last, in peace, they find their end!

Dark and red, glows the winter sky,

Two souls divided by the threads of time.

Dark and red, glowed the winter sky,"

As Clerissa's voice sung the very last part, she opened her eyes and looekd up at Jespar. The ball of frost faded away as she lifted her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks. His eyes opened and met hers as she sung the final line.

"Two souls united by the threads of time."

Her voice held the last note for a few seconds before it stopped and a smile spread across her face. Jespar leaned down and kissed her. When he pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes.

"You know, it's been thirteen years since I sung," she spoke, her voice now quiet. Jespar could still hear the melody of it echoing in his head. He continued to run his fingers through her hair as her eyes moved from his face and to the night sky above. "When I was still living in Nehrim, I would sing to bring coin back home to my family. I was one of the most sought out minstrels in my village." Jespar gently wiped away a tear from her cheek as it tried to slide away. "Nobles loved throwing parties and having songs being sang in them. I had made a little bit of a reputation in the town's center when I was thirteen. I quite literally just sat on the fountain and sang. One noble took an interest and offered to pay me to sing during his daughter's wedding. I agreed because the pay was huge! He offered five hundred coins for me to just sing. So on the day of his daughter's wedding, my new career began. For three years I was hired as a minstrel to sing. One of these parties was where I met Aravel." Clerissa's voice broke at the mention of her old companion. She had told Jespar the story of Aravel a month after he had told her about Lysia. Something told him the reason she hadn't sang in thirteen years was because of Aravel. "Aravel was captivated by my voice," Clerissa began again. "That's where our friendship grew. I remember there was a time she watched me sing at a party where a lot of the nobles were drunk. One man literally threw a bag of coin at me. It was a heavy bag and hit me directly in the nose. My throat clogged up as blood ran down my nose and everyone turned to the man and beat him up for ruining the night's entertainment." Jespar couldn't help but laugh. Clerissa chuckled along with him. "Aravel helped clean myself up and then I was excused to go home. The bag had five hundred coins in it, so there wasn't a surprise that it almost broke my nose."

Jespar moved a little, unfolding his legs and pushing himself against the nearest tree. Clerissa waited for him to settle down before laying back down. She closed her eyes as he slowly began to massage her scalp. "Anyways," she continued, "a few months afterwards, the village was raided by marauders and bandits. All the nobles had been pillaged and the wealth of the village went down to almost something. We were sent into a depression when the bandit's kept coming back every season, demanding money. I tried to sing to lift people's spirits but they only told me to shut up. Aravel and I were at the peak of our relationship at this time and there would be nights where we'd run off into the forest and she asked me to sing. It was like that for two years until the village finally had no money to pay and the bandits decided to kill everyone inside." Tears began to form again and her body shook. Jespar continued to massage her head with one hand, while wiping away tears with the other. Clerissa opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came out. Jespar wanted to tell her that she didn't need to say anything, but he could see in her body language that she wanted to.

It just hurt.

"Aravel and I had planned to go to the forest that night," Clerissa managed to get out, her voice broken with sobs. "But the bandits had gotten to her. I found her in the middle of the street with that sword in her gut. Her eyes found mine and that's when my rage took over. I had picked up a fallen sword and slaughtered anyone who was near her. She cried out for me before I could continue, my rage still at its peak but her voice... It stopped everything. I ran to her side and held her close to me. She told me to sing. And so I did. I sing my favorite song to her as she died in my arms." Clerissa's body was fully shaking now. Jespar put a hand on her chest as he wrapped everything up.

"The Winter Sky," he said. "That's your favorite song."

Clerissa nodded. "It was our song. We loved it." She opened her eyes and looked into Jespar's pale blue eyes. "That was the last time I sang. Thirteen years ago when she died."

Jespar blinked. Thirteen years since Clerissa had sung yet her voice was so beautiful as if it never lost its talent. But something still floated in his head. "And you chose to sing your favorite song to me for the first time in thirteen years." Clerissa nodded again. "Why?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Because I sang that song to my love when she died. I thought my world was destroyed after that. But here I am now, with you, and I feel better than I did so long ago. You saved me in more ways than one, Jes. And I guess the way I could truly show that is by sharing sharing something so close to me." Clerissa put her hand on top of Jespar's. "Besides, I knew I couldn't flirt my way to that confession." They both laughed at that, breaking the sour mood.

"You are a dread awful flirt," Jespar chuckled.

"Hey!" Clerissa mocked offense but a smile was still on her face.

"It's true! Remember the boat?!"

"Hey! I thought it was romantic!"

"It was cheesy!"

"It worked didn't it?!"

Jespar laughed before leaning down and kissing the Prophetess once more. "It did. But there was also so much more." Clerissa smiled as Jespar kissed her again.

As he pulled away, Clerissa began to sing another song. But it wasn't a song that any minstrel would sing in the tavern, Jespar realized as he settled in to listen.

It was their song.

[letmyselfcare]

Reverse all means of space and time, and what you are left with is a vast nothingness. The words haunted my mind as the skyline of southern Florida turned into a murky dim light of night. The brightness of the sun faded while a new one took over: rays of the city and all of its boisterous party life. Lexi was not kidding— Miami was nothing short of a party. The streets were filled with people of all shapes and sizes, laughing and talking through rose colored glasses. The colors were bright all around and from every corner of the city music of life and happiness seemed to be playing loud.

It was much different from what I was used to; my life was normally filled with seclusion. Hiding in the shadows… away from people and keeping to myself was how I liked most of my days to be. A total and complete utter darkness. Maybe that was why she wanted me to come here, to get away from the personal hell I lived inside of. Here in this city, I imagined it was hard to live in shades of guilt and self hatred. I also imagined it was easy to give into self pleasures. This was a place I knew my darker self would thrive in. A literal utopia of gluttony for the monster within me. I wouldn't give into the temptation.

With the seduction of hunger came an evil within me that wasn't so easily brushed aside. I didn't leave Mystic Falls in an attempt to save innocent people's lives only to come here and end more. Pulling my car off to the side of the main downtown area, I parked it in one of the dark secluded parts of the city before making a round of the area myself. Life and luxury colored the town for all it was worth as far as I could tell. In that I stuck out like a sore thumb. I wasn't ready for Miami as much as I wanted to be— that much became clearly evident. With wandering eyes paying me mind, I ducked my head and kept to myself for as much as it was worth.

After walking several blocks it wasn't until I saw “The Blackbird” that I knew I was in the right direction. It was a dark and sort of mysterious bar that drew in much attention from the outside. To someone like myself, I knew it was a haven for the supernatural. Every big city like this had one or two places that crawled with vampires— a lux hotspot where we didn't have to hide ourselves. It was a blessing and a curse to someone like me; someone who craved humanity and decency but was also hiding from the darkest parts of themselves.

There was a line out the front of the door, with a few large bouncers guarding the entrance. “Are you on the list?” The dark haired and broad shouldered man questioned me as I voided the line and made way towards the front without hesitation. He screamed of intimidation in a way that most humans would have been put off by. I stood my ground.

“My friend told me to meet her here,” It was a bland excuse, but the best one I could come up with. It was not solely humans lined up at the door, but also low grade vampires. Clearly I wouldn't stand a chance if I didn't use the best card in my pocket.

The guard laughed mockingly. “What's her name?”

“Lexi Branson.” The confidence behind my voice was wavering but I knew it was my only option. I didn't want to let Lexi know I was here just yet— doing so would open an entire can of worms that was best left sealed for now. If she was going to be anywhere in the city, I knew it would be here. She thrives off the party, the fun and all it was worth. I couldn't knock her for it, but I also couldn't bring myself to enjoy those same attitudes just yet. I wasn't in control of myself the way she was…

The guard gave a look to me in question, staring me down for several long seconds before finally motioning for me to enter through the doors behind him. Was I shocked I was right about Lexi? No. After you had known someone for well over one hundred years, their every move became as well known as the back of your hand. I knew her inside and out just as she had me— Lexi was more than my best friend, she was a part of my mind in the same way Damon was.

I could hear the loud music pounding from outside the bar and it only grew as I walked further into the dark entrance. Through the words of music, my own voice began to roar in the back of my head: There was no life, no means of hope. Just an empty space which would one day grow into something beyond imaginable. Something with meaning. Much like the shift in the universe, your life could change as well. One moment all could seem wrong, and as you open your eyes to the new day there is change. Is that what this was now for me? Change?

Extravagance was nothing short of how to describe the scenery around me. It oozed of wealth and finery that was nothing short of wonders. A clear hideaway for all eternal life and the beauty it held. It was also a staple of power in that regard; a grab at influence that left everyone in here seeming higher than life itself. From all corners around me, while dark and gloomy, I could make out people drinking, dancing, and chatting amongst themselves. Through the air the smell of sexual arousal and blood mixed like some sort of intoxicated perfume . My stomach curled but I walked on.

Much like on the street before entering, there were a few eyes that turned my way. I was new here and that much didn't go past the vampires around me. While it should have been comforting to know I was surrounded by people much like myself, instead it put me on high alert. I didn't trust a single soul here. As eternal creatures, we were inherently selfish. We did mostly what suited ourselves the best above all others. I was on the disadvantage of course with my lack of human blood. I didn't know where my next meal would come from… I didn't know if that was the best thing to think about now.

Making a direct line towards the bar, I did my best to keep an eye out for long blonde hair through the sea of people. I sought out a singular energy, but nothing here felt familiar. It was lonely in a way I was not expecting, and that left me feeling puzzled. In a room full of people, without the one you wanted most, you could feel so alone. As I reached the bar, I waited off to the side before one of the bartenders paid mind to my presence.

“What are you drinking tonight?” She was average height and olive toned with a voice soft through the music around. It caught me by surprise, somehow unexpected as her face was hardened. Though to be in a place like this, I'm sure it was easy to look angry. Especially as… a human. Suddenly I realized all the people working here had been human with the expectation of the men outside. A sudden sadness washed over me as I looked at her— what kind of life was she living working here?

“I'll just take a scotch on the rocks.” A reached for my wallet, a trivial item as a vampire as I could merely take whatever I wanted without consequence, but she shook her head when I handed out a twenty dollar bill.

“You must be new,” Her gentle voice added with a laughter through the noise around us. She began to make my drink for me only to soon notice the confusion on my face. “You don't pay here, you're a vampire. Obviously.”

“Was it that obvious?” It was hard to tell. As a human, the only vampire I ever knew was Katherine. Though her beauty stuck me from the moment I met her, I never knew what a human would see when they looked into my eyes. Did I appear with the same appeal Katherine had to me all those years ago? Or did I come across like a normal human? I placed the money back into my wallet and tucked it away. All of this show and dance around me felt incredibly sad in a way, yet if I were human I knew it would hold a much different regard. How did she see this place?

The brunette girl behind the bar nodded her head and slid my drink over to me. “You scream newbie, pretty boy. Watch out…” Her wide doe-like eyes gave me a wink in a way that was far too playful for the haunting look on her face. “Someone here just might take advantage of that.”

I wanted to question what that meant— it was far too ominous to sit properly. Just as my mouth began to open, to even dare put meaning behind the warning, silence caught in my throat instead.

“Now Hayley,” A female voice from behind me dared to break the space between me and the bartender. A single hand was placed on my back, and suddenly I was thrown back into a time and space that was all too familiar to me. A world I had craved for days, knowing it was the right place to be. Lexi. I turned my back to see her bright eyes and mischievous face warning the girl behind the bar: “Don't go scaring Stefan off. He only just got here, and I plan on him staying for awhile.”

[demandpeace-blog1]

"Duchess Satine -- I'm here to deliver a message. General Kenobi has... fallen. He said to tell you something, but... he didn't manage to finish. I'm sorry. Really, I am."

meme || accepting

       “Duchess Satine Kryze, please, let me introduce to you Jedi Master Qui-Gonn Jinn and Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She sat a little taller for their introduction. It was a hard thing to swallow; accepting that her first return to Mandalore had to be under the protection of Jedi. Her father was dead and she was sure to be elected the leader of the New Mandalorians. She needed to lead her people to peace.

      “Your Grace,” the elder Jedi greeted, bowing his head respectfully. Satine looked over to his Padawan, and time itself stopped. Eyes made of constellations met hers, and a rare moment of clarity broke through her head like blinding light: this Jedi is going to change my life.

      “You’re lying!” she snapped, pushing herself to stand off her throne. Her lips curl into a sneer that looks something akin to...violence. Anger is an emotion the Duchess knows well, but rage lights a new fire behind her eyes.

      “This is a mission like before! He is playing the hero, he will--” The Clone’s eyes grew dark. His jaw set hard. Satine freezes in her steps before she can throw him out of her throne room. In the silence between them, the dark truth falls between them.

      “You would have done me a great disservice to die now, Duchess. I would never have a hope of becoming a Jedi Knight if I were to let you get killed.” Outside her window, the moon hangs high in the sky. Her vision is blurred from tired, her shoulder aching underneath the cumbersome wrapping of a bacta patch.

      “I apologize that I have to continue to keep you from Coruscant, Obi-Wan. You are going to have to continue to be committed to the arduous of keeping me alive yet.” In their words and their quiet banter, Satine dares to hope she can hear something else in the words. There are a few moments of silence between them where she thinks she can see the yearning in his eyes she dares not deny to herself now. The seconds are fleeting, but if for only a few seconds, she dares to believe she saw love in his eyes.

      It’s gone as soon as it has come. He’s silently explaining that Qui-Gon has bribed the doctors into treating her before they would be smuggled out at dawn. It should be enough time for the bacta to heal her shoulder--they’d been attacked by an assassin, but she can barely remember anything--and she would make a full recovery. They were guardian and guarded again, but seconds before she fell asleep again, she could have sworn she felt his hand in hers.

      “I--I’m sorry, Your Grace.” The clone’s voice is quiet. Silence sits in her throne room and it feels not unlike what she would imagine being killed by a lightsaber would be. Hot and burning--then a soul-splitting numb that meant death was coming for her. Because what is a world without Obi-Wan in it?

      She falls back against the steps of her throne. Her guard moves forward, but she motions for them to stop. Tears stay in her eyes a fiery and red-hot grief of agony; her heart had been getting used to a world where he could exist in her life and she knew she’d never have him like the way she’d dream about over a decade ago. The chance she didn’t take at twenty-three would be a whisper in the wind and she would have his star shining eyes in her life and it would look enough like her dreams, she could pretend she was okay with it.

      “Tell me how he died.”

      “Your Grace--”

      “Tell me how he died.”

      They were on the precipice of her fantasies becoming reality. In the cold and wet cave of a planet she’d already forgotten the name of, Satine was staring into his eyes when she should have been restraining herself. She caught him looking at her again with a shine to his eyes that unwrote every piece of resolve she’d so carefully crafted over her life. Eyes were inches from each other; lips only breaths from meeting.

      “This is for looking at me like that--” She whispered, and dove into her wants and desires. For once, she felt human as she kissed her Obi-Wan. For once, she felt as if she could believe that the word home could ever be a reality. Of these months on the run, she was tired of being afraid. If she died tomorrow, or in two weeks, or in two years, or quietly in a peaceful Mandalore, she could not be afraid of her own wishes anymore. The Duchess was not foolish; if she lived to see a prosperous Mandalore, she could never have Obi-Wan as hers. But, that day was not right now and she was not going to apologize for the kiss she’d dreamed about since she met him.  His lips felt like his eyes looked; when she kissed him, stars exploded behind her eyes. He was her serenity. He was her love. He was the peace she sought for Mandalore and never believed she could have for himself.

      Their kiss ended only a few moments later and silence grew again. “If you are contemplating being reasonable about this, Obi, I am going to have to ask you to be fanciful with me.”

      “I am certainly not interested in something as monotonous as reason right now.” And he kissed her.

      “He took a hit to save his men. I didn’t realize he was in danger until he was already hurt. I’m sorry, Your Grace. I know nothing more.” Of course, he was being the hero, because that is simply who he was. The Obi-Wan who dared to show his feelings for her was notGeneral Kenobi. They had fragments of each other, but her Ben who held her as they stared at the heavens above them and woke her up with kisses warm like sunshine. General Kenobi was the soldier, not-soldier who always thought of others, first.

      “You are Cody, are you not?” The Clone looked down at the ground briefly before back at the Duchess with tears in her eyes. She was crying slowly, thick trails glistening down her cheeks.

      “Yes, m’am.”

      “Take what you need from Mandalore for a safe trip home. I--thank you for personally telling me of Obi-Wan’s--of Obi-Wan.” The clone nodded.

      “It’s my duty, m’am. It’s what the General would have wanted.” She swallowed her tears to speak.

      “He loved you. Every one of you. We fought about many things; you were witness to many, I remember. He admired you all. Each and every one of you were special. You were so much more to him than clones, or soldiers, or anything anyone might ever call any of you. Remember that, please. If anyone tells any of you differently, remember you were the most living, natural things to him and worth the space you inhabit.”

      Cody had no words for the Duchess. At least, Satine remembered little else after that. She stayed sitting at the steps of her throne and watched Cody leave.

      Her Mandalore was just that, her’s, but so much was still uncertain. She had thousand of displaced beings to care for, bonds to heal between the clans, so much to rebuild--and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were leaving?

      Qui-Gon was the one to tell her, Obi-Wan at her side. It was so sudden a calling from Coruscant, they were to leave immediately. She was angry--furious, actually, was a much more accurate word--with the Jedi, or Senate, or Coruscant as a whole, for taking them so quickly from her when Mandalore still needed so much aid.

      Briefly, Satine looked at her Ben. She opened her mouth to speak. to ask him to stay, to leave the Jedi Order, to rebuild alongside her. But, the words never came. Asking him to stay in Mandalore would damn him so far away from Coruscant, from the Jedi, from the only life he had ever known, for what? Her own comfort? How could she tell him she loved him and be so selfish as to ask him to stay? The clans would never accept an off-worlder as her husband, even if he bore no title or power. And could Ben resign himself to that? Even if he consented, how could she look at him and live with herself?

      For a moment, she saw the future she dreamed about between kisses and caresses and stolen moments. She saw loving him at his side, having a family with him; creating an identity for herself that was whole on her own but also altered if ever without him. They could live together for decades and find peace for Mandalore together.

      But, she could not ignore his Padawan braid. She could not ask him to sever himself, because he would never ask the same of her.

      When he walked out of her throne room, Satine immediately left for Concordia to oversee the replanting of the decimated forests. Because it was her duty. Because she had to. Because if she imagined his eyes for another second, she’d fall.

      The Duchess Satine closed her eyes and imagined what beauty felt like. Ben would come up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. She’d laugh like it was the first time he had done this and reach back to run his fingers over his soft hair. Warm lips that were always slightly chapped would selflessly rest on the skin of her neck; not greedy for a kiss or reverent in worship, only resting there as a mere vehicle to feel more of her skin. Korkie would play with their children and Ben and her would laugh as they would run him into the ground with their antics. Every night, she had his arms to retire to, and the world would be whole for her.

      “Good-bye, my love,” Satine whispered into the air, past Mandalore. The Force was not hers to feel, but maybe his to listen into. “Rest easy and wait for me in the next life. Next time, I will ask for you to stay. Next time, I will never know what a day is without you. Good night, my Ben.”