#i love watching the temperature meter

[girlwonderers]

yesterday @loquaciousquark's stream briefly discussed bullying world bosses, and i was reminded of one of my more badass flurry rushes

[writingstreetspirit]

One Breath, One Touch

Summary: A night out at Rita’s changes everything for the better

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tension, reader is very shy, prolonged eye contact, kissing

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: It feels like it’s been forever since I last wrote a longer piece instead of headcanons, so here’s a Azriel piece. If you liked this, please like/comment/reblog/follow as it helps me and every other content creator out there. Thank you! 🫶🏻

—

Rita’s is full of people, not unusual as it was Saturday night. Drinking, laughing, dancing, and music fills up the building, a pleasant atmosphere of life all around you. A lot of handsome and beautiful things and people to look at, but there is only one person that’s grabbed your attention tonight.

You can tell he is watching you, because you can feel his stare in your soul. The Night Court's own Shadowsinger Azriel is just a few meters away, along with several others that are part of the Inner Circle, Cassian, Nesta, Mor, and Amren. They’re drinking and laughing, Mor and Cassian goofing along to the music.

While Azriel is there in the middle of the group, his focus seems to be entirely on you. His eyes are like whiskey, they glow in the light, and are dark in the shadows. He stands there, looking at you, waiting and watching.

You blush from the intense staring, not being able to hold the intense eye contact for more than a few seconds before having to look away, only to then return your eyes to him again, starting over the process.

This has become a routine over the years. While Velaris is not a small city, it is inevitable to run into all citizens at some point or another. Especially with you being a co-owner at the local bakery in the middle of town, you have had customers all over the Court visit to purchase freshly baked bread or sweet pastries.

That includes the Inner Circle, Feyre and Mor often visit for the delicious cupcakes, and oftentimes Azriel accompanies them, probably as a safety precaution with Feyre being with the High Lord of the Night Courts, Rhysand. The first ever time you meet the lovely High Lady you also saw Azriel.

It’s almost been four years to the day, and every time the door opened and Azriel stepped inside, your heart would race. You’d engage in small conversations, well, more like just a few words, but you’d think about those hazel eyes and dark hair for days until the next drop in.

He raises an eyebrow slightly. He leans back against the wall he’s against, and stares you down. You can sense some kind of tension like it’s something you can physically touch and see. You feel nervous, a fluttering in your stomach.

He stares at you for a while longer. When you're not expecting it, he walks away from his group and steps right up to you. His voice is low and rumbling. “Are you here alone?”

You blink slowly, feeling warmth traveling through your face. If you had a mirror to see yourself, you bet you’d be as red as a tomato. You admit in barely a whisper, “No, I came with a friend. Though I think they’ve left me for a male.”

The corner of his mouth curls down in a small frown, and he glances away from you for a split second before his eyes pierce into yours again. “She didn’t even say that she were leaving?”

You shook your head. It wasn’t the first time something like that has happened, and while it stung the first couple times, it didn’t bother you anymore.

“Would you like company? You seem lonely.” You gulp, looking away from Azriel’s intense eyes. Your cheeks are burning hot, and despite the thin dress and the slightly cool temperature you break out into a sweat. You croak, “Yes, I’d like that.”

His gaze returns to yours, Azriel’s eyes seem to pierce through you. He leans closer towards you, the a small smile forming on his lips. “Should I get us something to drink?”

“Okay,” You breathe out, your heart racing inside your chest. Azriel’s the most handsome male you’ve ever seen, and so…kind and caring. You find it hard to look at him without revealing all your personal thoughts and feelings about him. About how he’d been on your mind everyday since he first walk inside the bakery.

You can smell his scent, it is intoxicating, and it fills your mind with thoughts of him. He’s wearing that cologne that you’d sniffed out whenever he’s been near enough for years now. It’s good, fitting him perfectly. He is so close you could kiss him.

“What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” Azriel asks, and his low voice sends shivers down your spine. Your heart fluttered, he had called you sweetheart.

You don’t answer for a long moment. You’re sure that he’ll know what you’re thinking about if you answer him. Hell, he probably already knows. After all, he is a Spymaster, and a very skilled one at that. Finally you squeak out, “Surprise me.”

He smiles, then turns away to walk towards the bar. You breathe out shakily once your alone. Fuck, you think, I must look so dumb in front of him. He’s just being kind, he doesn’t like me like that. Just as you’d managed to gather yourself somewhat, he returns with to glasses in his hand. One’s a whisky, the other is…your favorite drink.

“I hope you like this one, I can get another for you if you don’t.” Azriel says, holding out the glass towards you. A shaking hand accept the glass, letting the cold drink cool your flushed skin. “Thank you. No, this is perfect actually.”

You sip the drink through the straw, a pleasant hum escaping your mouth at the pleasant taste. You miss the pleased smile forming on Azriel’s face as he takes a swing of the whisky.

“Have you had a pleasant evening, despite your friend leaving?” Azriel asked, and you look up from your drink to see that he’s already looking at you. You hum, nodding once. “I have. Have you? Had a pleasant evening, I mean?”

He chuckled, nodding to behind him where his very obviously family were still hanging out. “Indeed, but I think they’ve had more fun than me based on how much they’ve drank. Especially Cassian and Mor.”

You laugh softly, gazing down at your high heels clad feet bash fully. “Yes, it seems to be that case.”

Azriel studies you for a long while, waiting for you to look back up again. When you finally do he smiles that smile that you’d like to think was reserved just for you. Your hair has thankfully fallen in front of your face and you hope the strands hid the flush that spreads across cheeks.

“Though I can think of something else that would make this night impossible better than it already is.” Azriel spoke low, his voice barely louder than that you just managed to here him. You look at him questioning, curious as to what he was thinking.

He raises his hand, scarred fingers brushing strands of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. He pauses, the space between you is electric and palpable. “Do you want to know what I’m thinking about right now?”

You want to say yes, tell me, I want to know everything single thing you’re thinking, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant, but you're too flustered to speak, so you nod instead.

He smiles slightly, it’s as if he already knew you’re tongue tied. His thumb traces your jawline, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. He whispers, “Y/N, I have been wanting to do this since the moment first I saw you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing what Azriel is referring to, but before you could ask what he meant, his lips were pressed against your.

His touch is gentle, yet intense. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. You feel alive, your whole body is humming, electric. Azriels free hand is cupping your cheek tenderly, and you melt into his touch. Your hands creep up to his waist, gripping onto the fabric both to pull him impossibly closer and to keep your unsteady legs upright. Somewhere far in the back of your mind your hoping that you’re not spilling the drink all over the back of his shirt.

You don't want the kiss to end, but eventually it does. He pulls away slowly, as if he also didn’t want to leave your pillow soft lips. His hand fall away from your face, and you look up at him. Your breath rushes back to your lungs, and you are breathless.

Azriel stares back at you, you are both breathless. Eventually he speaks, his voice is low and rumbling. “You are the most beautiful person my eyes have ever laid upon.”

Your heart races, you have never felt like this before. Never been so enamored, felt so seen, both in and out, or so cherished by another. It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time. Please, a voice in your head said, don’t ever let this feeling go away. You pant, eyes unable to look away from his for even a second, “Really?

Azriel lowers his hand to touch your chin, to cup it in his and make you look him in the eyes. They are warm and soft, unlike his usual hard and closed off expression. His voice is low and rumbling, you can feel in your heart that he is telling the truth.

“I could look at you all day.” He tells you, “and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

You lean your flushed cheek into his hand, nuzzling into his warm skin. You smile up at him, at the male that had stolen your heart. The true words spill out of your mouth without any embarrassment or uncertainty. “You are too, Azriel. So very beautiful.”

He smiles back, and his touch is gentle as he strokes your cheek. All the tension and nervousness has melted away between you. Instead a warm, cozy feeling lingers between the two of you, the rest of the visitors in the bar just background noise.

“Will you take me home with you, Azriel?” You asked, looking deep into his eyes. Azriel lowers his hand from your chin, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Yes,” he says, his face shining with what you could only describe as pure joy. Wherever your newfound confidence came from, you thanked it greatly. He puts down his whisky on the table top beside you, and you follow with your own glass. “I will take you home with me if you desire it, sweetheart.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” You ask, a small playful smile breaking out across your face. Azriel chuckles low, slowly wrapping his strong arm tenderly around your waist and gently guides you along with him out of Rita’s and into the night breeze.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

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

Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

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

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

[themessedupsonata]

You will be my world.

James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James Potter never liked how the Autumn made everything seems so unsightly and boresome. That was until you steal his heart and make him change his mind about the autumn.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff. A slight mention of the first wizarding war, maybe?

A/N: Actually, my favourite season is spring, but I love the song ''we fell in love in october'' and I just couldn't stop myself from writing this.

James Potter hated autumn.

He loved summer because he could feel the sun kissing his skin and making him feel alive. Spring was the perfect time for him to gift his mom flowers and watch nature's beautiful cycle where animals found their mates. Winter was synonymous with Christmas (James' favourite holiday) and it was when he could play with his parents in the snow.

Autumn was just three months of sheer boredom. Nothing special happened in the Autumn. Everything was so… unsightly.

That was until he met you.

It was the middle of October and James' least favourite season was in full swing. Most of his neighbours were adults without children, leaving him with no one to play with for nine years, but that all changed that year when a moving truck pulled up in front of the house next to his with a car right behind. A couple got out of the car with a… Child.

A child his age.

James immediately turned away from the window and was already pulling on his coat to leave the house to greet you when Fleamont Potter stopped him.

''We live in a Muggle neighbourhood, Jamie, and you still don't know how to control your magic very well. I'll invite them to afternoon tea and we'll find out if they're wizards.''

Thank Merlin they were.

The L/Ns were a Muggle-born couple who met through their work at the Ministry of Magic. Their only child, Y/n, had inherited her parents' magic.

They were a very likeable couple and Fleamont and Euphemia quickly made friends with them.

''It's not dark yet, you could go out and play.'' Mrs L/n suggested.

Of course, James was over the moon to finally have someone to play with, but he felt uncomfortable being alone with you because so far you both only exchanged a ''Hi''.

The square that was a few meters from James' house was pretty empty at this time of day. You noticed that, so you suggested the two of you go over there. James happily agreed, but as soon as you turned your back to go down to the square, James scowled. He never went to the square in autumn precisely because everything was ugly. But he agreed because he wanted to please you so that you would like him and become friends with him.

Apparently, you didn't mind the dead look of the leaves on the trees. On the contrary, you seemed to be… Delighted with them.

''There are so many leaves on the ground! We can make piles of leaves to jump on!'' You suggested excitedly.

The idea didn't seem too unpleasant, so James nodded.

He never knew jumping in piles of autumn leaves could be so much fun.

The feeling of jumping on top of the leaves to feel their slightly hard texture, but not to the point of being uncomfortable, was strangely cool. For some reason, you two couldn't stop laughing and the banter went on for hours but you both could have sworn you were only playing for a few minutes.

When the two of you finally collapsed from exhaustion onto the floor, still giggling like the kids you were, you started moving your arms and legs. James watched you in confusion until he realized you were making an angel out of autumn leaves. He had never seen anything like that, but it looked fun and he decided to imitate you.

''Your angel looks great, Jamie!'' You smiled at him as you two finished your autumn leaves angels.

Tiredness had made your face redder and despite the slightly chilly temperature, there was a little sweat on your skin. your eyes were bright with teasing and your smile was so beautiful that James smiled back without even realizing it.

He hadn't realized what a pretty girl you were until that moment, and he felt like an idiot for feeling his cheeks and the tips of his ears heat up.

The moment was interrupted by James' mother, who said that it was time for you both to go home and that there would be plenty of time to play tomorrow.

James couldn't wait.

***

He had been looking for you all afternoon.

Until he finally remembered about your favourite tree and James felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

There you were, exactly where he'd assumed you would be, sitting against the big oak tree at the back of Hogwarts grounds reading a book.

''This one is new, isn't it?'' James asked, moving closer to you.

At age 13, you were both in the growing-up phase. This meant that James was a lot shorter than you and you never stopped teasing him about it.

''Yes Jamie, I started this one today because I finally finished Animal Farm yesterday.'' You replied, patting the space beside you on the floor for James to sit down.

''What is your new book about?'' He questioned as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He let you talk animatedly about your book while he was lost in thought without you noticing. He admired the orange and red tones of the leaves of the trees that made a strange but beautiful combination. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to feel the wind ruffling his hair even more and letting the slight chill envelop his soul. All this while he enjoyed the sound of his favourite person's voice.

You've been inseparable since that day in 1969. You played together daily. Your families travelled together and you studied at Hogwarts together. You were his best friend and he could never thank you enough for coming into his life and making everything more colourful.

But last week, he overheard a conversation between Dorcas and Marlene (He knew it was wrong to listen to other people's conversations, but the topic really caught his attention).

Dorcas spoke passionately about soulmates. How two people were born to meet and complete each other. How a soulmate could make you see the world more beautiful and make your heart feel at peace just being close to your soulmate. Soulmates could live a thousand lives without forgetting the comfort and love that the other made them feel.

It was then that James Potter knew.

You were his soulmate.

But he was too embarrassed to tell you. He wanted you to think he was cool, just like Peter, Sirius and Remus did.

Maybe you would think he was silly for being so sensitive when it came to you.

But one day he would tell you. You were his safe haven and damn him if he never told you that.

***

A war was approaching.

Very soon, a threat would come to terrorize the wizarding world and James feared for everything he loved daily.

His life, because James had dreams and plans and he wanted to try harder every day to be a better person.

His parents, who always had only given the best for James and provided him with a wonderful childhood that he would always be grateful for.

His friends, who stood by him in the good times and made him come to his senses when he was acting like an idiot. Who made him smile and taught him a lot about life.

You.

He didn't want to think about it too much.

Due to the thousands of thoughts plaguing him, James had been having trouble sleeping properly. Usually, he admired the stars in the astronomy tower, but today he decided to take a different route.

Just to end up finding you.

He knew how the threat to the Muggle-borns lives was being very difficult for you. And despite knowing how strong you were, he desperately wanted to take you in his arms and protect you from the cruel world that didn't understand that you were an extraordinary person who was so much more than a ridiculous blood status.

''Couldn't sleep either, Y/n/n?'' He asked quietly so as not to startle you.

You took a deep breath before answering.

''No, Jamie. I wasn't able to.''

You were sitting on a small hill, which was covered with orange leaves. You repeated your habit of patting the vacant space beside you and James sat down next to you.

''You know I'm going to die before I let anything happen to you or your parents, right?'' He stared at you, his face as serious as ever.

''Don't say that. Please… Don't say that.'' You started to cry.

James pulled you closer and you immediately buried your face in your best friend's chest and wrapped your arms around him.

He rested his chin on your head and stroked your back, letting you get it all out.

When you finally calmed down and pulled back a little (Just enough to look him in the eyes. You weren't quite ready to leave James' arms) before muttering.

''Thank you for always being there for me, Jamie. You're the best.''

Suddenly, the handsome boy with glasses grinned devilishly before attacking you with tickles.

That was a terrible habit he always had. From childhood, he would start tickling you whenever you were feeling down. He had learned to control himself over the years, but that bizarre nature of James was still there.

You immediately broke free of his grasp and started running while laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. James was laughing like crazy as he chased you and unfortunately you didn't stand a chance against him. Now you were both adults and James was much taller and stronger than you.

James threw himself at you, but you tripped and that's how you both ended up on the floor. Your chests pressed against each other and his lips were just inches from yours.

''Y/n/n… Can I kiss you?'' He asked with something glinting in his eyes.

You were completely frozen by the wonderful and at the same time torturous closeness because it still wasn't enough. His hazel eyes has always been your weakness and you could spend eternity admiring James Potter. But a few seconds later, you finally processed the words of his question and responded by pulling him by the back of his neck so that his lips finely met his.

***

If James had told his version of 10 years ago that his favourite season was autumn, little James would have laughed in his face.

But that was an undeniable truth.

He met you in an autumn, fell in love with you in an autumn, finally got to love you in an autumn, and now he was making you his wife.

In an autumn.

Despite all the devastation the war was causing, he found peace and genuine joy today. Watching you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, looking like an angel, while promising to spend the rest of your life with him.

James Potter loved autumn.

And he could never thank you enough for that.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Birds: Juncos

A series of Erriox and Lenora with birds of different species. Slate-coloured juncos are northern birds that breed in the boreal forest.

Dialogue spoken in Gothic are bolded and italicized.

Author's Notes: Just something low-key and slice-of-life kind of writing. This takes place prior to Erriox living with Lenora full-time. At this point, Erriox is just visiting Lenora occasionally. But he does patrol around her home on a regular basis.

Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the bird divider!

OCs: Erriox (Iron Warrior), Lenora

Tagged: @kit-williams, @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts,

@shadowfirecat, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog

@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual, @thevoidscreams,

@ms--lobotomy, @whorety-k

Snow was still on the ground despite the temperatures becoming milder and the amount of daylight stretching longer. 

Lenora met up with Erriox at the start of the forest trail. The view of him in full armor standing there in the still snow-covered landscape would make for a lovely photo, she thought. The Iron Warrior stood watching a small flock of birds fluttering among the vegetation and listening to their chips and short buzzes, and variable ringing trills. His helm turned to her direction when he heard her footsteps. 

“Birdwatching?” She asked him, smiling. 

“Yes.” Erriox affirmed. Lenora turned her head to the same direction he was looking at. 

“I have not seen such small and delicate creatures in a very long time, not until arriving here.” His voice sounded distant and nostalgic despite coming out from the mouthpiece in his helm. Sometimes she wondered where he came from and what was home like for him. Though, judging from the conversations they had during his visits, it sounded like his life’s been near-constant fighting. 

“There are three in the grass, 20 meters ahead.”

Lenora lifted her binoculars and confirmed the view. 

“Your senses are far superior to mine.”

“They came at a cost.”

“I see.” She went quiet for a moment before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather not.” 

Lenora understood his sentiment. Erriox had opened up to her a lot since their first meeting. Between learning more of the Gothic language and about the Astartes in general, he had been a wealth of information. But some memories are too painful and others are secrets that must be kept. She didn’t have a right to pry. The Iron Warrior will tell her when he’s ready. 

“You study these birds, yes? Do you know what they are?” His voice shook her out of her reverie. 

She nodded as she briefly set her binoculars onto the flock again, “You see the two that are mostly grey with the white belly? They have pink beaks?” Lenora explained, “Those two birds are dark-eyed juncos. More specifically, they are the slate-coloured subspecies that inhabit this region.”

Erriox then pointed out the similarities of the one that was left out, “And the brown one with the grey face? That one is also what you call a slate-coloured junco?”

She smiled at him, pleased with his deduction, “Very good. You are correct. That one is the female of the group. You can tell its a junco by looking at it's tail, it will be white on the outside and grey on the inner tail feathers.”

His heartbeats quickened when warmth bloomed in his chest at Lenora’s praise. The Iron Warrior inwardly scoffed, he thought he should have gotten used to that by now. 

He heard her let out a wistful sigh, “They’ll be around for several days, and then the robins will start singing.”

His The woman gestured to the trail head, “Let’s go for our walk. You can point out what you have seen and I can explain what they are.”

Erriox chuckled, “After you.” He had been meaning to ask her about the sights he’s seen on his patrols around her property. 

[afyrian]

ch. one - deep blue memories masterlist

    "today, we're separating into your usual groups and you'll take turns examining each of the specimens. your goal is to figure out what's ailing them and how you would solve the issue. there will be multiple answers for some of them, so don't be worried if there's disagreement within your groups," your professor stands in front of you, a thick notebook settling into your arm, small marks forming on your skin. 

  you've done this more than once before, but with it being your final year in the program, there's even more pressure to perform. you peak over at the turtle habitat, the beautiful colors on its shell catching your eye. the professor then steps off to the side, "group one, you're with the dolphin. group two, you're checking out the sea turtle. group three with the octopus and group four with the squids."

  the number two always seemed to be your good luck number, because the sea turtle was ultimately what you wanted. you find your way through the group to your closest comrade, atsumu miya. knowing him through high school would have never made you think that he'd go into marine biology. his love for volleyball seemed as though it would last through college, but now he stands beside you, watching a turtle. 

  his enthusiasm, however, carried over and now it's all he can talk about. truthfully, you enjoy watching him smile as you compare homework answers. "so, initial thoughts?" you stare down at the turtle, watching as it turns around in the small enclosure. 

  brown and beige colors intertwine along the turtle's shell. the length appears a little over a meter long, the length and appearance of the shell leading you to believe it's a green sea turtle. "well, green sea turtle for starters-"

  "yes... what else?"

  "if you would so kindly let me finish, i was going to say, it looks like there's something on its fin," atsumu raises an eyebrow, leaning against the railing of the enclosure. 

  a couple of your other teammates mutter in agreement, one of them mentioning how it looks tumorous. your eyes narrow as you stare down the spot, fingers just barely dipping into the water. the cool temperature grasping at your fingers remind you of a simpler time. baby sea turtles struggling to make their way through the sand. 

  seagulls picking at them as they form lines in the sand, your fingers grappling at them to help them to the water. 'honey, you have to let them take the journey on their own. you can guide them, but you can't just drop them in the water,' your mom kneels beside you, lowering her sunglasses to meet your eyes.

  she grabs a hold of your hand, leading you to swat away any birds that come close, waiting until they're just barely in the water. her hands moving yours into the cool ocean water, draping the baby turtles with a little freshness-

  "you okay? you've been staring off into the distance as i monologued on how i would solve this mystery," he turns his body towards yours, watching as your fingers wade through the water, eyes focused on the growth.

  you look back him, eyes flickering back to the turtle in front of you. there was always something interesting about the ocean, something that intrigued you about life within the water. "yeah, just cycling my mind through the different things that cause growths on green sea turtles. there's always fibropap... what is the full name of it?"

  "oh what is that, fibropapilla?" atsumu narrows his eyes, pursing his lips as the gears turn.

  "fibropapillomatosis... it's a tumor-causing disease," a voice pipes up, one that sounds unfamiliar to you.

  everyone in your class has been going through the program for years together, making it hard to not know a member. especially when you look up and find that there's something truly unforgettable about the nearby individual. his dull blue eyes appears similar to that of the ocean as you venture deeper in the water. 

  he stands a couple of feet behind you, his clothes matching that of an employee. "it can be found in all green sea turtle species. while there aren't currently treatments available for it, we can try to remove it in the hopes that it'll help," the mysterious man takes a step towards the tub, arms wrapped around a clipboard. 

  despite his apparent knowledge of the turtles, it's clear that he doesn't want to get close to the water, for unknown reasons. "right, you're totally right. we'd have to test and see, but yeah. uh, are you a new transfer student?" you furrow your eyebrows, clean hand scratching at your jaw line.

  "no, just visiting," his gaze meets yours, and the longer you stare into his eyes, the longer you want to drown in them. 

  "well, thanks for the help, visitor," atsumu comments, hands resting on his hips, biceps just barely flexing as he stares down the mystery guest.

  you look back at your closest confidant, eyebrows raised. while atsumu can be a little hostile around new people, you couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at how he immediately chooses passive aggressiveness. he looks back at you and shrugs, eyes flickering between you and the visitor.  

  the visitor swallows, clearly a little bit more nervous at atsumu's actions. before you can read the little name tag that is written on his lanyard, he's turning around, moving to the next group. he walks around a bit awkwardly. it seems as though he has a limp or something that affects his walking abilities. 

  you turn back to atsumu, pursing your lips. "i get you have that intuition thing going for you, but you just met the guy. come on," you lightly slap his upper arm, shoulders dropping.

  "something just seems off about the guy, that's all."

  "just be a bit nicer, especially if he is going to be here for a bit. for all we know he could be finding people for an internship or a job once we graduate. don't ruin your chances if that's the case," you push your finger into the upper part of his chest, bringing your hand back to cross your arms over your chest.

  atsumu raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. "alright, just don't let his good looks blind you from your studies..."

  "oh you're ridiculous," you look back at where he stood; however, he seemingly disappeared from the other group. 

  for a second, a part of you longs to know where he's run off to. however, you quickly turn back to your own group and remember what you were doing in the first place. fibropapillomatosis... such an interesting term.

a/n: ahhh i hope people like this first one! taglist: @zombriesworld

[bellewintersroe]

Joe Liebgott x Reader.

two times Joe doesn’t want to come to you, and the one time he does… tw - swearing, talks of war and wounds, ptsd, 1940s terms, some descriptions of war and death but nothing too intense. I keep deleting and rewriting parts but I’m just not so happy with the ending, idk :/

The Crossroads, October 1944. “Joe… go see Nurse Y/l/n once you’ve done this.” Winters told him. “Yes, sir.” Yeah right. The last person who he’d be taking a visit to was Y/n, especially like this- all wound up and wounded. He’d report to nurse Smith instead, the other nurse for 2nd battalion to who he didn’t have such an… attachment towards. You see, it wasn’t that Joe disliked her. It wasn’t that at all. In fact it was more the complete opposite- his bond with Y/n was something he’d never experienced before. To get to the point, he was in love with her. But Joe refusing to be seen as anything other than the alpha male meant he sacrificed one vital human emotion when he was around her. Vulnerability. So instead of doing at Winters ordered, he simply stood a couple meters away from the aid station (it was a brick house they’d taken over) and just stared in contemplation. Joe had seen all the nasty side effects wound infections could cause, plus, he didn’t want to be taken off the line- but dammit he was fine. Just as he made the decision to turn back around, a voice called out. Joe stood, his shoulders tense as he stared up at the ‘aid station’. It was just a stolen brick, house which people once lived in. Now, the wounded took over, bleeding to death inside the walls. He felt himself shudder once at the thought and dammit- he was fine he didn’t need to bother you whilst you were hard at work with some scratch. Joe began to turn around, ready to head back in the other direction when he heard your voice calling out. Perfect timing.

“Joe!” She’d spotted him from a mile off, first from out the window, and secondly when she came to the door to retrieve the lost looking boy. “Joe, what’re you doing?” Her voice was gentle, yet somewhat laced with worry. He internally sighed at his inside melting into goo at the sight of her. He watched the way her brows knotted as she reached up, running her fingers over the bandage and grazing the warmth of his skin.

“What happened?” God she was angelic, Liebgott could’ve easily fallen into her arms if it wasn’t for- “oh my god, what did you do?!” Her concern peaked, pulling on his arm to take a better look.

“M’ fine, it’s nothin’. Winters sent me to Nurse Smith.” He muttered, it was a lie, one he felt horrible about as well. As soon as her brows perked and he watched the breath get caught in her throat, he knew he’d been caught out. “Oh. Nurse Smi- Alice left like an hour ago. Winters orders- so I don’t think… I don’t think he’d send you to her.” For the first time she felt jealousy towards her friend. A lingering pang of pain and sadness, one that she didn’t conceal very well and Liebgott could immediately sense he’d hurt her feelings.

“Um… but I’ll go get one of the guys for you, Spina was free last I checked.” Great. In all his stubbornness, he’d somehow wound up and turned this into backfiring on her. “Y/n/n-”

“No. It’s fine, Liebgott. I’m busy anyway…”

December 1944, Bastogne.

Blowing on her hands, Y/n cupped them together, eyes scanning around the town as she pulled her shoulders up, body rigid with the baltic temperatures of Bastogne. Her boots crunched under the snow with each step, and she was careful to walk around the piles of bodies that lingered the side of the streets. She was a mix between on the lines with second battalion and back in the town, taking care of the hundreds of wounded or mentally disturbed soldiers, haunted by the traumas of the battle. Even leaving the make-do infirmary couldn’t get her away from the horrors of war. Somehow, Y/n preferred being on the lines, at least then she was with familiar faces, ones she trusted and knew. She slowed to a halt when a familiar face stood not too far ahead of her. Her breath became caught before she let out a slight laugh, relieved for the first time in days to see somebody she cared so deeply for.

“Joe.” The relief on her voice was evident, his name was light and airy and lingered in the cold air that surrounded them. Joe’s head turned, heart stolen by the voice. The finger that had been batting against his thigh momentarily stopped, the last person he wanted to see here was her- surrounded by death, bombings. He didn’t even register the warmth he felt at the sight of her. The colour of her eyes were a stark contrast to the white of the snow below, yet they were rimmed with dark circles, red and puffy. You see, Liebgott recognised straight away how far she’d wandered, completely alone, standing no taller than an adolescent. If a Kraut caught her out here- well… Liebgott didn’t even want to think of what potentially may happen.

“What’re you doing out here?” He squinted, shaking his head in utter confusion. He felt angry, pissed off that such a fragile thing could be caught in the crossfire out here. He was already riled up, being moved to CP runner which had still yet to ease his stress. Her smile faded, and she momentarily just watched back up to him, feeling as though her relief wasn’t mutual. Liebgott looked tired, pale, just a shell of his previous self. “Well I’m stationed in the town today.” Y/n’s voice quietened noticing the strange way Joe looked at her. Usually she’d be met with smiles, hugs, relieved greetings on his behalf. He’d grin and call her sweetheart or doll- something she selfishly wanted to hear in that moment. “In the town, so what the hell are ya’ doin’ out here?” Usually Joe wouldn’t be this… harsh. Not with anybody, especially not to Y/n. “I just came for a walk.” She recognised how stupid that sounded as soon as she spoke. You don’t just go for a walk in the middle of war. But she wasn’t being silly, she didn’t even realise how far she’d trekked out.

“Well, why’re you out here?” She quickly chimed, preventing Liebgott from inevitably telling her off. He’d been extremely on edge recently, more so than the other men out here.

“Go back to town, Y/n.” Joe sighed, blowing out smoke from his cigarette. She winced at the harshness of his words, looking at the red band on his arm. CP runner. “Winters sent you back here?” She tried again. He finally looked at her, chewing on the inside of his lips.

“Yeah.” He finally responded, glancing around for any danger. “I gotta get this back to battalion.” He half-arsed lifted up a letter. Her eyes followed it, before falling back down to the snow below her. She gasped slightly, feeling something beneath her shoe, quickly recognising it to just be nothing more than a rock. Liebgott watched in concern, hearing a snapping sound from the right of him. It was instantaneous, he grabbed hold of her coat, keeping her behind him with gun held up in the other.

“Relax.” Out walked a guy from D-company. He’d obviously just been taking a shit or something in the woods- but he’d almost wound up shot.

“Dammit.” Liebgott dropped his gun, teeth clenched as the man disappeared back around the corner, towards the time. He could handle the idea of himself being hurt, but not her. It was too risky out here- he was angry at her for even being out here in the first place.

“Go back to the town would ya?” He snapped, voice raised as she stared back to him wide eyes. “Joe-” “No! Just get outta here! What’re you stupid for walking here in the first place?” Her mouth fell agape, breaking all eye contact and feeling her head begin to shake in complete disbelief. “No? Yes? Just leave!” Joe was completely unrecognisable, deep down she knew he was somewhat telling the truth- but he was so mean, the tears pricked way too fast in her eyes.

“We lost 10 guys in the last hour.” As soon as her voice wobbled she gulped the sensation away. “So forgive me for being happy to see you.” His blood ran cold, the minute she turned around Joe held his head in his hands, groaning. What a weird way to tell a girl you love her? Right…

May 1945, Austria.

Joe minded his business as he strolled through the streets of Austria. He’d just finished a gruelling course in preparation to be shipped out to the pacific. Despite the calmness that was here, most men were still on edge about the continuation of the war. Like most things, Joe just grumbled about it a couple times and got on with it. If they wanted him to fight the Japanese, he’d be just as brutal as them, there’s no way Easy would go through all that shit in Europe just to be sent out to the shitty- “Woah!” Joe dramatically spoke, stumbling over something as he completely didn’t watch where he was going. He heard somebody gasp from below him, a light voice, one belonging to a woman.

“Ow.” No other than Y/n sat there, perched on a rock as she looked out to the serene views ahead of her. She grasped at her ankle, wincing at the pain of where the soldier had practically stood on here. When Joe spun around, he felt his breath get caught in his throat seeing who it was.

“Y/n!” He panted out, recognising the tear stains down your cheeks. Oh fuck, he was just a klutz! Now he’d made you cry- potentially not for the first time either. “Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart, did I hurt you bad? Fuck, I’m sorry.” Crouching down, he placed a hand on her shoulder, constantly glancing between her face and ankle. What Joe didn’t realise at first was that her tear stains were old. Her eyes were slightly puffy from crying and he’d interrupted something. “No. It’s okay, you just scared me.” She pulled her leg back with a wince. “No, don’t be silly, here let me see.” Joe let out a sad kinda laugh, she smiled only a little, allowing him to outstretch her leg again. It had been months since the two were close, they’d grown apart in the war, Joe’s lack of ability to show vulnerability had pushed her further and further away until they were no more than old acquaintances. “I’ll be fine, Joe.” She let out a chuckle, amused by her own ability to get caught up in something unlucky. She figured she’d be alone out here, now here Liebgott was trying to massage her ankle.

“Are you sure? You- you don’t look it…” his voice lowered, watching through his eyelashes. She forced another half smile before her head dropped, “it’s okay, Joe.” He sensed she was doing the exact same thing he did to her all those months ago. “Hey, no. C’mere.” Moving around, he perched besides her on the rock, unable to help himself from wrapping an arm around her in comfort.

“You good? Did I hurt your ankle that bad, kid, or have I just interrupted somethin’?” She let out a sad laugh again at his words, wiping under her eyes. “I’m just… I’m just scared for the pacific.” Her chest felt lighter when she spoke those words. With the twig she had in her hand, she continued poking at the mud below, averting Liebgott’s gaze which cascaded over her face. For a moment he was stumped, his heart was beating at a furious speed and oh god- he was fuckin’ nervous. Not the time to be nervous when she was crying in his arms. He opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed them away before letting out a sigh, looking across the beautiful lake ahead of them.

“I don’t wanna do it anymore, y’know. And they’re… brutal over there.” She spoke up once more, fingers writhing together as she finally glanced up to him. When he did look back he felt his heart shatter to meet her glassy eyes.

“I know.” Was all he could manage at first, watching over her face as she waited for his response. “If anything’s good practice it’s being on the front lines though, right?” He attempted as she felt a breath of laughter leave her throat at his comment. Joe’s face turned slightly, visibly cringing at his response.

“Ah, shit Y/n/n, but seriously, we’re all gonna be there together, y’know. You’ve gotta whole company willingly to die before they let anything happen to ya’.” He squeezed her reassuringly to which she sadly laughed again, assuming he was being lighthearted.

“No, I’m serious. Look, kid, I know if it’s between me and you- I’m jumpin’ in front of ya.” He admitted without even thinking, this time it was her gaze on him. “I’d do the same for you.” Joe froze, not expecting the mutual terms of their speech. Something had softened inside of him, that fluttering in his stomach had returned in full force- it never really left, just dulled from the years of war and pushing her away. She felt her breath become heavy, blinking over his handsome face.

“Well, that’s if you’d actually want me around you.” She pathetically attempted to joke, wiping under her eyes to prevent her mascara from running any further. “What?” Joe’s head snapped up, meeting her gaze. “Hey, I always want ya’ around me, don’t be silly.” He spoke again, hand cautiously landing on her knee. “No but… I thought you didn’t like me.” The words caused something inside Joe’s chest to pang and twinge sharply. “Course I like ya.” The words fell more serious than be intended. “I wanna be around you all the time.” Y/n swooned at his words, still painfully head over heels for him all these years later. Her hand slipped into his, feeling his larger fingers squeeze a little around hers. “You didn’t seem like that before…”

“Ah, I was just being a dick.” He shrugged. “Sorry.” He glanced down to his lap momentarily. “I don’t hold it against you. I just- I just thought you never felt the same.” Her jaw tensed, head feeling hot at her sudden admission of feelings. Joe felt the corners of his lips tug teasingly.

“You wanna hang out with me later? Like just us two.” Finally, he saw a smile reach up to her eyes. It was a genuine kind, one that he didn’t think he’d actually seen in a real long time.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Turning down, she wiped under her eyes once more, past worries seemingly forgotten about. She let out a giggle as he watched her with nothing short than pure delight. “I can’t believe I cried.” “I’ve seen a whole lot worse doll, don’t worry about it…. Haven’t you got enough points to leave anyway?”

“No. It doesn’t work like that for us nurses.”

“Ah crap… suppose you’re stuck with me for another three years then.” “Lucky me.” She teased, sarcastically digging her arm into his side as he nudged her back with a knowing smile. “Lucky me more like.”

“Yeah after finally making a move 3 years later.”

“Maybe I oughta’ have run straight past you, now you’re just getting bold.” He joked. “Or maybe you could’ve done that anyway, without breaking my ankle.”

[wastelandmoony]

Déjà Vécu: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven : Losing Dogs

Summary: A tipping point.

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

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI;

a/n: I've been feeling like shit about everything lately, and had considered not posting for a while, but low and behold I've stopped feeling like a twat and am smashing that post button once again.

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

Companion Playlist

Read on AO3

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

May 20th, 1976

Weeks of revising had turned her brain into certifiable mush. For once, the entire study group had organized to meet, but she couldn’t seem to find the mental capacity to join them. 

“I just think that if I try to remember one more fact about Chimaera, I might actually implode,” her head was face down on the breakfast table, voice muffled and exhausted.

Remus massaged in-between her shoulders, “You won’t miss much…besides watching Prongs make a fool out of himself to impress Lily again.”

She groaned.

“I know it’s your favorite,” Remus laughed. 

Straightening back up, she signed into a bite of toast. Marlene made eye contact with her from down the table. “Want to hit the pitch instead? I don’t much feel like revising either,” she said with a grimace. 

“You’re a godsend, Marlene McKinnon,” she smiled in response.

Sirius having just heard the tail end of the conversation, frowned at them, “I want to join too! Don’t leave me with them, please, I’ll be bored out of my mind.” The look he gave her was a cross between sad puppy, and pleading child.

She rolled her eyes, “No! You promised me you’d study now that we’re a month away from exams. I’m holding you to it.” 

Sirius groaned and took a rather large swig of tea. 

“C’mon Marls,” she grabbed her stuff and stood up, “Lets head out.”

Sirius looked up at her through his lashes, “Have I told you that you’re my least favorite friend?”

She rounded the table, stopping to bend down and whisper in his ear “We both know that’s a lie.” One kiss on the cheek, and a wave to the rest of their friends, and the two girls were off to the quidditch pitch, academics a far off thought for the afternoon.

———

“Jesus, Marls,” she gaped at her friend, having just launched the hardest hit on a bludger she’d ever seen, “I don’t know how you do that. It’s amazing.”

Marlene shrugged from a few meters away, “It’s a gift, I know.”

She smiled, taking a lap around the goal posts to feel the wind. It was a perfect day, no clouds in the sky, warm spring air the prime temperature for flying. She could practically feel the stress melting away as she glided around the pitch. 

After a few hours, they took a break, pausing to hover over the far side of the field. 

“So…what’s up with you and Dorcas?” She looked over at Marlene. Mary had told her (under sworn secrecy) that Marlene had hooked up with the Slytherin chaser after a party in the dungeons a few weeks back. 

Marlene shrugged again, the portrait of nonchalance, “It’s…complicated I guess. We’re exclusive, but we’re not labeling it as anything just yet.”

She smiled tentatively at her friend, “Are you happy?”

A beaming grin split Marlene’s face, “Incredibly.”

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” A crumb of jealously formed in her chest. She wanted to feel that too, the joy and happiness that Marlene had found; the devotion that James showed Lily, and the fondness she had begun showing him in return. She wanted that, wanted to experience reciprocal love. 

“What’s going on with you and Black?” Marlene took a drink from her water, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Sirius?” Her heart skipped a beat. Marlene nodded, smirking.

She shook her head, “Nothing. We’re friends.”

“Bullshit,” Marlene turned towards her, “we can all see it!”

This was ridiculous, she felt her face becoming hot.

Marlene shook her head, “You two have always been close, but I don’t know…this year it’s been different.”

She stared out over the pitch, trying to figure out what to say. There was nothing to say. Things had seemed different between them, she hadn’t realized it until now how much closer they’d gotten since last year, how much she’d begun to miss him when he wasn’t with her. 

“Marlene, I—“ she paused to find the right words, sighing when she came up short. Rubbing a hand over her face, she groaned, “God, I’m so obvious, aren’t I.”

Marlene laughed, “Yes, you’re both almost gross to look at sometimes.”

“Both?” She cocked an eyebrow.

Marlene nodded, “You don’t see the way he looks at you, he follows your every move, like he’s afraid to let you out of his sight for too long.”

It was similar to what Mary had told her months ago, that Sirius’ attention always seemed to linger on her. Though everyone else seemed to see it, why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he make a move? 

She sighed in frustration, a breeze blowing her hair back and cooling her nerves. 

“Want to head back? Dinner’s in a few, and I’d love to change out of these clothes beforehand,” She glanced over at her friend. 

Marlene nodded, “Yeah, come back to the Tower, you can shower at ours.”

The two flew towards the ground, landing softly and headed back up towards the castle. 

———

After showering and changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the two girls lounged by the fireplace and waited for the rest of their friends to get back before heading down to dinner. As she stretched out her sore legs, a soft sniffling echoed through the portrait entrance. Lily quickly walked through, wiping her eyes and hurrying towards the girls dormitory. 

The two of them were instantly on their feet.

“Lils, what’s wrong?” She said, trying to placate their friend. 

Lily shook her head and pushed past them both, disappearing up the steps.

Mary breathlessly ran through the portrait a split second later, “Did she go upstairs?” 

“Yes, Mary what happened?” She was on edge, and by the look on her friend’s face, the feeling was mutual.

Mary shook her head sadly, “It was Severus.”

Her hands curled into fists at her side, “What did he do to her, Mary.” 

She felt Marlene tense at her side as well. 

“He didn’t do anything…it’s what he said…” Mary trailed off, eyes gazing towards the girls dormitory stairs. Her voice lowered, “He called Lily a mudblood.”

She’d long let go of the power that word held over her, and had come to ignore its taunt so many times that it no longer affected her. But she knew Lily, and though they all hated Severus, she couldn’t imagine having someone she thought of as a friend call her something so vile.

The group of voices tumbling through the portrait hole could only be the boys. Sure enough, the four entered the common room, frantically talking over each other in various tones. Sirius seemed elated, talking hurriedly to James and grinning from ear to ear. The latter was pale and worried, locking eyes with the girls the moment they stepped into the room. Remus raised his eyebrows at her in a way that said “buckle up for this one.”

James strode over to Mary, “Did Lily come back here? Is she okay?”

Mary crossed her arms over her chest, taking on a defensive stance, “She doesn’t want to talk to you Potter.”

She glanced between her two friends, confused, “What’s going on…?”

Mary hadn’t dropped James’s stare, “Why don’t you tell them, James? Tell them how you made Lily cry today.”

Her head whipped to him, “What. Did. You. Do?!”

From the back of the room, the other three boys cringed in solidarity with their friend.

James started stuttering, “I—I didn’t mean to! We were just having a laugh, and of course Snivellus had to take it too far—“

“You removed his trousers while Sirius levitated him upside down!” Mary hissed.

She stared at James, eyes darting to Sirius as he tried to shuffle behind Remus, “I’ll deal with you later, Black.”

A soft “fuck” could be heard from the other side of the room.

She looked back at James, eyes filled with disbelief and hurt, “Why would you do that? I know we don’t particularly like Severus, but how does this make you any better than him or the other bullies in his house?”

James looked at the floor, the reality of what he’d done finally sinking in fully. “I…wasn’t thinking. I just thought it would be funny, and when it was over he…took a shot at Lily. She didn’t deserve that…”

She shook her head, “I don’t blame her for not wanting to speak with you, and I sure as hell am not going to speak on your behalf.”

James nodded sadly.

“You’ll just have to wait until she wants to talk about it. I’m not going to help you this time, Jamie.”

He nodded again, turning around and slumping upstairs towards the boys dormitory, followed quickly by Peter. 

She turned to Mary, “Can you go check on her, please? I’ll handle the rest of these idiots.”

Mary squeezed her hand and ran up the stairs with Marlene to be with their friend.

Her eyes narrowed at Sirius, still half hidden behind Remus’s tall frame. The latter gave her a look and began to walk up towards the dorm, Sirius scoffing at him.

Remus turned and raised his eye brows, “I’m not helping you, mate, you’re on your own.”

She stared at Sirius from a few meters away, the two of them the only ones left in the common room. He shifted nervously on his feet. “I—“

She held up a hand to cut him off, “I don’t care, Sirius.”

He nodded, gaze falling to the floor as she approached. 

“What’re you doing?” She asked him softly, stopping a few feet away. 

He dared a glance, “Standing here?”

She shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. You’re better than this, Siri. Don’t act like them.”

Sirius’ face became stony, “Like who?”

“You know exactly who I’m referring to…”

Sirius paused, looking out of the window of the tower in thought. She could practically see his internal battle, the nature to hurt and disrupt pitted against the desire and the heart to do good. He wasn’t a bad person, not by a long shot, but if he didn’t begin to think before he acted, the consequences would only continue to get larger. 

She watched his brows furrow, and her heart strained a little. Over the years of knowing him, she had come to realize that the only way to get through to Sirius was with love. Yelling and fighting with him was pointless, it’s what he’d grown up with, and what he’d learned to counter. Love and kindness seemed to be the only things that actually sunk in.

Closing the gap between them, her arms wound their way around his neck, and she hugged him close. It took him aback for a beat, but he returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

“You’re a good person, Sirius, please don’t lose that,” she whispered.

He played with the ends of her hair, “I’m sorry…”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” she said.

“I know, but I want to,” his eyes were piercing as she pulled back to look at him, the sincerity in them was jarring. 

“Thank you…” she whispered, unsure of how to react. She realized he was still holding onto her waist, the warmth from his hands seeping through her shirt. 

She cleared her throat, “I don’t think the rest of them will want to come down to dinner, so do you want to help me steal food from the kitchens? We can bring it back up here.”

Sirius smirked, thumbs grazing against her skin, “Go on then.”

———

June 13th, 1976

Remus wasn’t in the hospital wing when she went down just before breakfast. Though his absence was not completely unusual, the look on Madam Pomfrey’s face when she walked into the infirmary was enough to set her nerves on edge. 

“He’s already left, dear,” the healer said, her eyes full of something that she could only clock as pity. 

“Is he okay? Did something happen” She said, clutching the bar of Honeydukes chocolate in her pocket. 

Madam Pomfrey paused, clearly struggling to find the right words, “…I think you should speak with him, love.” 

———

Students were filtering out of the Great Hall as she strode through the doors. She glanced at the Gryffindor table, hoping to see Remus and her friends sitting and eating breakfast, but she just caught sight of Lily and Mary packing up to leave. 

“Hiya,” she said breathlessly to the two girls, the pattern of her breathing severely impacted by the racing of her heart, “Have you seen Remus?”

Lily furrowed her brows in concern, “He stopped by briefly and grabbed some food, mumbled something about the library. Is everything alright?”

She nodded, though not very convincingly, and ran out of the Great Hall.

Something had happened, something…bad. She could feel it in her stomach.

But what had been so awful Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t keep Remus in the hospital wing? He obviously couldn’t be that hurt?

The familiar carved doors of the library approached on her right, and she ripped them open more aggressively than she should’ve. Madam Pince scowled, and she didn’t even bother giving the old woman a kind smile like usual. Peering down each line of shelves, she searched every corner and chair on the lower floor for Remus, to no avail. 

“Fuck…” she sighed, climbing the stairs to the second floor landing. It was usually quieter up here, so she should’ve expected to see Remus posted up at the far corner behind a row of shelves, head buried in a textbook.

“Moony?” She said lowly, to not piss off the crotchety librarian who was more than likely hovering nearby. 

He lowered the book and gave her a tired smile, “Hey.”

“Everything alright?” She sat beside him in an upholstered chair, assessing him for any new injuries.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he dragged a scarred hand down his face, then stared out of the windows across the walkway.

“…Remus?” She whispered, finding herself unable to breathe properly.

He shifted his eyes to her, and she saw it then. The devastating sadness and heartache etched into his face.

“What happened?” She swallowed. 

“There was…an accident…” he averted his eyes again, staring down at his hands, “Severus. He—he saw—“

Her throat burned. Whether with bile or tears, she wasn’t sure. The only thing she saw after Remus began to explain what had happened the night prior, was pure red. 

———

She doesn’t remember how she got to Gryffindor Tower. 

She doesn’t remember giving the Fat Lady the password.

She doesn’t remember climbing through the portrait and coming to a stop in the common room.

All she remembers is the color red.

The color red, and the look on Sirius Blacks face. 

He was perched on the armrest of the couch, arms crossed and face sallow.

James stood over him, just as pale but his cheeks were flushed in anger. They were talking in tense whispers when Sirius’ attention snapped to her.

James turned around sharply, shoulders relaxing when he saw who it was. “Hey,” he sighed tiredly.

She ignored him, walking closer.

Sirius had been crying, she could tell by how bloodshot his eyes were. 

She didn’t care.

He stood up as she approached, knowing exactly what she was there for.

“I didn’t mean to—“ he started, only for her to rear back and punch him in the side of the head. 

“YOU COULD’VE KILLED HIM!” She screamed, pushing him backwards into the couch, “YOU COULD’VE FUCKING KILLED HIM!”

James came up behind her and put her into a hold, pinning her arms to her side, “Severus didn’t get hurt—“

“I don’t give a shit about Severus!” She thrashed in his arms, trying to break free, “The ministry would’ve killed Remus if he so much as touched him!”

Sirius clutched the side of his face, turning to stare at her with despair and self-loathing in his eyes, “…I’m sorry,” he murmured.

She continued to pull at James’ grasp. 

“You’re fucking dead to me,” she spat as James dragged her towards the portrait entrance, “DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME, BLACK!” She screamed as James pulled her out into the corridor beyond.

The last thing she saw before the portrait shut, was Sirius burying his face in his hands, his shoulders beginning to shake. 

A few moments passed, her breathing still ragged as James held her tightly and waited for her to calm down.

“Are you going to behave, or do I have to bar you from the tower?” James said sternly into her ear.

She nodded reluctantly, and he finally released her. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, “This is a fuckin’ mess.”

“We could’ve lost him, James,” she whispered, staring vacantly out of the window, “We came so close…I can’t—“ 

She began to hyperventilate, sobs erupting violently from her as James pulled her close again.

“I don’t know what he was thinking,” he said quietly against her hair, “Have you seen Moony?”

She nodded silently, not able to speak fully without screaming.

“Is he alright? I only saw him this morning…when Dumbledore told him what happened.”

She shuddered a breath, “He’s…shaken up. We didn’t talk much about it, just what he was told, I guess. You know how he is, he never wants to open up.”

They stood there for a moment, James holding her as she gathered herself. 

“Will Severus tell?” She whispered into his chest.

He shook his head, “Sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore.”

Another moment passed in silence.

“I’ll never forgive him, Jamie.”

He sighed, “I’m not expecting you to. I just—promise me that you’ll keep it together, for Moony’s sake.”

“I’m not so sure Remus wants to be around Sirius right now, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And what if Remus chooses to forgive him?” James said as he let her go.

She thought about it, her brain and heart waging a ruthless battle within her tired body.

“Then I’ll respect it, but I won’t change my mind.”

[zombryz]

dancing with titans

˗ˏˋ hii :3 ˎˊ˗  

chapter one - rainy days 

masterlist | chapter two (coming soon!) | read on ao3 | 

pairings - Levi x afab!reader | Jean x afab!reader | v minor Eren x afab!reader

warnings - slowburn, eventual smut, blood and gore, angst, possessiveness, unrequited love (but not really)

word count - 3.5k

Let’s imagine this is Levi watching the reader and Jean *insert eyes emoji* hehe

You still remember your very first interaction with Captain Levi. Before the temperatures began to fall, it was a rainy day during the 104th Training Corps, so you were not quite required to wear winter clothing. Captain Levi, the current Commander of the Survey Corps, and Keith Shadis, your instructor and the former 12th Commander of the Survey Corps, had been assessing the soldiers during ODM training. Captain Levi came to scope out the new recruits and see if there were any promising faces that he could ultimately add to his team. There were dozens of military dropouts that first month, but you stayed. Now that you think about it, you’re not sure why you stayed, but you’re glad you did. Although the training was challenging and exhausting, you never gave up on the belief that your life might one day have meaning. Growing up in the Utopia district made life unbearably dull and made you feel trapped inside the walls, and you were constantly hearing stories about soldiers who went outside the walls. One day you had enough and decided to leave home to join the military because you no longer wanted to be bound to the life set out for you inside the walls. You wanted excitement, even if that meant death. Now, here you were, aiming to take down ten fake Titan structures with your ODM gear and steel swords in hand. You scored a perfect ten; you know you did. You landed on your feet in front of Commander Shadis and Captain Levi after mastering the grips and gliding swiftly through the air. Breathing heavily, you looked up at your instructor and noticed the man beside him. 

“You hold your blades similar to the way I hold mine.” Captain Levi, who was a stranger at the time, speaks monotonously and nods his head toward your hands, which were holding both blades backward. It was the most comfortable position for you; you were holding them that way without even realizing it. His eyes remained on your form for a moment while you looked down at your hands and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. His steely gray eyes looked tired and heavy. To be honest, you never gave him much thought back then. You never really answered him either, as you remember. Instead, you gave him an ingenuine smile and turned your attention to Commander Shadis, who was waiting to give his score to you.

“Yep, you got a perfect score,” he sighs slightly, “again.” You jump in excitement and thank him before heading back to your fellow recruits. As you walked back to the rest of the group, you felt eyes bore into the back of your head. They were Captain Levi’s. 

---

It wasn’t until you saw Captain Levi in action that you fell for him. He did in fact hold his blades similarly to you; the only distinction was that you held both backward, whereas he only held the blade backward in his left hand. During your first expedition beyond the walls, he was mesmerizing; you watched in awe as he effortlessly chopped up twelve-meter-tall titans without any assistance. You and Levi would dance around each other while taking down Titans. He would cross over into your path, and you would into him, never once having to verbally communicate what the other was doing. You read his movements like a book, and he read yours. It felt romantic in a way that you had never felt anything like it. At the end of the expedition, he complimented the way you moved in the sky, causing you to blush. You thanked him and finally looked at him for the first time. You complimented him back and even brought up the way he held his blades. He smiled slightly, a hint of red threatening to spill onto his face. You’ll never forget how his eyes still looked so tired, but you could see the admiration he held for you. 

That was two years ago. Now, you are in your final year of the training corps, with only a month left until graduation. You've made friends, but you’ve barely talked to Levi. You had been pining for Levi ever since that day during your expedition. He was either completely unaware of your feelings for him or did not share them. You tried multiple times to bury them but to no avail. That’s how you found yourself here, sitting at the table with all of the friends you’ve made in the training corps. Somehow, everyone at your table knew about your feelings for your captain, and it was embarrassing.  

“When are you going to give up?” Eren nudges your shoulder softly, completely knocking you out of your thoughts while you stare at Levi from across the cafeteria. You loved watching the way he drank his afternoon tea. He held his cup differently, just like his blades, with almost all of his fingers around the rim. His fingers were delicate and veiny, and you were captivated by how such pretty hands allowed him to be a ruthless killer. Back to the present - you shove Eren back gently, and your face is beet red now. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning innocence while biting into the apple that Mikasa offered you earlier. 

“What do you see in him anyway? He’s short and mean.” Eren rests his head in his hands and looks up at you. His words draw the attention of the rest of the table, and they all turn to look at you and Eren. 

“I-I don’t know,” you answered in a sing-song voice. “He's super strong and funny.” You answer, not fully believing the second part. 

“Funny?” Eren tches, “The captain is NOT funny.” Eren rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair before sitting back in his chair, visibly annoyed. “And… I’m strong. I’m probably the strongest one here!” He speaks louder than he meant to. 

“Hey, watch it, Yeager!” Jean chimes in from the other side of you without looking at you or Eren. It was common knowledge that Jean Kirstein and Eren Yeager liked you. Sometimes you thought Eren pretended to like you just to get on Jean’s nerves, and it was amusing for the most part. 

“Hey man, you and I have about the same chance!” Eren raises his voice again while looking past you and at Jean. Armin and Mikasa sat across from you, and beside them sat Connie and Sasha. Everyone was eating their lunch but sat quietly listening in on the drama.

Jean didn’t answer Eren; instead, he finally looked at you with his golden brown eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked kind of cute being the center of attention. He was definitely not as open about his crush on you as Eren was. You just giggled slightly until Armin opened his mouth. 

“When are you both going to give up?” Armin questions the boys while stuffing his face with potatoes. Mikasa looks at him angrily, and Sasha starts laughing while falling back in her chair. “What? Someone had to say it,” he adds when he notices Mikasa’s face. 

“He has a point.” Connie lifts his finger up, speaking in a serious voice that he doesn’t usually use. “Someone’s eventually going to give in. Statistically speaking, one of you has to like the other person back. Either you like Eren or Jean, or Captain Levi likes you.” You immediately feel hot at his words because they are true; you just wish they weren’t because that meant Levi liking you back wasn’t an option. On top of your crush on Levi, you also had feelings for Jean. At the beginning of the training corps, you thought Jean was just an asshole, but as the years went by, you noticed you were getting closer and closer to him. He was really sweet and caring towards anyone he cared about, which included you. He would do anything to keep you safe, and you felt lucky to have him as a friend. He also had a tendency to be really attractive when he took charge, and you even noticed that sometimes out in the field, you and Jean would dance around each other in ODM gear. It wasn’t as smooth as it had been with Levi, but it definitely didn’t go unnoticed. 

You took the route of deflection: “So you’re saying I have a chance with our Captain?” You grin at your words until you hear the sound of Jean’s chair scraping the floor loudly as he gets up to leave. “No, Jean, c'mon, I was kidding!” You yell back at him, but he’s already halfway across the cafeteria. Damn, his long legs. 

You take one final bite of your apple before pushing back your chair to follow him. Eren goes to stop you, but Mikasa quickly grabs the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stay at the table. Jean made his way out of the cafeteria and into the corridor of the main building. You quickly turn the corner, and your face collides with something solid. It was Jean’s shoulder. He apparently didn't go down the hallway as far as you thought he had; instead, he was leaning up against the wall. 

“Y/N, I-I’m so sorry.” He grabs your shoulders to still you, and you quickly grab your head to comfort the sharp pain in your skull.

“Ow.” You get out while rubbing the side of your head. Damn, Jean and his height. His shoulders were the same height as your head. 

 Jean realizes where you’re hurting, so he slowly reaches up to pull your hand away from your head. Your head was now being held by both of his hands, and he was gently rubbing your temple with his thumb. After a second, you finally open your eyes, and you’re face-to-face with his chest. When you look up at him, he’s already looking down at you with big, concerned eyes. You melted into his touch and gravitated towards his chest more and more. 

“You okay? Why did you follow me out here?” Jean gets all of his questions out at once without pulling away from you.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You breathed deeply before continuing, “I just wanted to check on you. I didn’t mean to upset you, Jean.” You brought your fingers up and gently caressed his forearms.

“You didn’t upset me. I-” Jean sighs. He goes to say something else when someone behind you emerges from the cafeteria and clears his throat to make his presence known. 

“Am I interrupting something, Cadets?” You jump at his voice, recognizing it anywhere. It was Captain Levi. Jean immediately drops his hands from your head, and the both of you jump two feet away from each other. 

“No sir, sorry sir!” You and Jean salute Captain Levi at the same time, and you both look extremely embarrassed with your hands over your hearts.

“Cadets in training are not allowed public displays of affection.” Levi’s eyes wander over yours briefly before landing on Jean’s. His face no longer showed any softness he had while looking at you. “Once you graduate, you can hold any cadet you’d like for all I care. Do I make myself clear?” 

Jean looked down at Captain Levi and quickly replied, “Sir, Yes sir!” Levi stepped back toward you, and his eyes looked you up and down before he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway without saying another word. 

“Woah, Captain Levi never gets onto cadets for breaking the affection rule. Usually, it’s Commander Erwin.” Jean released the breath he had been holding and turned to look at you. You were completely flustered, and you were holding your hands behind your back while watching the Captain’s form disappear down the corridor. Jean rolled his eyes and took hold of your chin to force you to look at him. Once you were looking at him, he dropped his hand so that you both wouldn’t get into trouble again.

“I really don’t have a chance, do I?” Jean’s eyes are fixed on you now. His voice was barely above a whisper, and his posture was not as confident as before. 

You open your mouth to answer, but no words come out. His question echoed in your head, but you had no idea how to answer it. Jean took your silence as an answer.

“Okay.” He straightens himself once more and sniffles slightly, but plays it off. “I am going to let you go now.” He looks at you for a moment longer, hoping you'll say something, but you don’t. He then closes his eyes and walks away, down the same corridor Levi did.

---

It was finally graduation day after three long years. There were two hundred and eighteen cadets who graduated alongside you. Everyone had three options: the garrison regiment, aka those whose job it was to reinforce the walls; the scout regiment, who would ride out into Titan country; or the military police regiment, aka the lazy bastards. You were at the top of your class, along with Connie, Sasha, Jean, Marco, Eren, Mikasa, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie. The night of your graduation you noticed Jean acting weird. Everyone was drinking and having a good time when you noticed a saddened look across Jean’s face. He barely talked all night. Eren even tried to pick a fight with him, but he didn’t fight back. 

“Hi,” you said, joining him at the wooden table he was sitting at inside one of the dining halls. Marco was sitting next to him and took his cue to leave. You smiled at him, and he shot you a sympathetic look. The room was loud and full of drunk cadets, but you ignored the noise to talk to Jean.

“Hey.” He answered before taking another sip of his beer. 

“What’s up with you? Why do you look so sad?” You shift your body closer to him, and he shifts away slightly. This wasn’t the first time he had shifted away from you, not allowing you to get close to him anymore. Ever since that day in the hallway a month ago, his entire body language around you has changed. 

“I’m joining the military police.” He stares blankly at nothing in particular. He knew you would have a bad reaction. Everyone else in your group was planning on joining the scout regiment, including you. He prepared himself for you to scream a loud “WHATTT?” that drew everyone's attention to him but it didn’t come and instead -

“Oh.” Your voice comes out shaky now. Your reaction makes him actually look at you this time. You were holding your beer between your thighs, and your head was hanging low as you were just staring at your fingers around the handle of the mug. You didn’t want him to join the military police. You knew that’s what he wanted, but for some reason, you always thought he’d change his mind. “Please don’t.” You tilt your head up slightly as tears threaten to form, your throat feeling like thorns as you speak. 

“Why shouldn’t I? I would have three meals daily for life, and I’d be safe behind the walls.” He shifts his body towards you now with an aggression in his voice that wasn’t there before. He just wanted you to say the magic words that would get him to stay. He wasn’t even intending to play this game with you. Heck, he told himself a month ago that he would go into the military police, settle down with a nice girl, and forget all about you and everyone else. He didn’t want to think about how you would never love him. He even stopped sitting next to you at meals and staying away from you during training and downtime. He was already feeling much better being away from the magnet that you were, which sucked him in every time you were near. 

“I need you, Jean.” Your drunken thoughts betrayed you, and you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him in a way that you never had before. You corrected yourself by adding, “We need you,” but it was already too late. Jean was already being pulled back into your magnetic aura. He hated himself for it, but he cared about you way too much to let you go out into Titan territory without him. 

“I guess I’ll think about it some more.” He hated seeing you sad. “Tonight, let’s just get drunk.” His face finally turns up, and he allows himself to be happy again. He takes a swig of beer and looks over at you. Your smile grows, and you throw your arms around him in a drunken hug that makes him fall backward a little. This makes you spill your beer and his, but you don’t care. Jean takes the opportunity to hug you back, and he buries his face in your hair, scared that he’d never have the chance to again. He decided he would still be at arm's length from you so that he could try to move on. He needed to pull away from you, he reminded himself.

After another beer and bantering with Sasha and Connie, you noticed Captain Levi in the dining hall checking up on all of the cadets. He was sitting in the corner with Commander Erwin and had a cup of tea in his hand. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you started approaching him with a newfound confidence you didn’t have before. 

“Hiiii,” You tried your best to appear sober, but your words just came out overly excited and silly.

“Hi, Cadet,” Erwin says before Levi gets a chance to speak. “Enjoying yourself?” 

“Yes, sir!” You sloppily salute them both before grabbing a seat at their table. “Sooo, Levi.” You start inappropriately speaking to your captain while leaning over the table, purposely so he has a view of your chest and your slightly unbuttoned blouse. This was unfortunately an attempt at flirting.

“Yes, Cadet?” Captain Levi ignores that you didn’t refer to him as captain. For some reason, you’re the only one he allows to cross the line a little, even when you’re not drunk out of your mind. 

“Oh, I-I just, I’m s-so, drunk. I don’t think I can walk back to my room.” You feign innocence and pout. He raises an eyebrow, unsure of what you’re getting at, but this was quite amusing for him. Usually, you’re so confident and rational that you never speak out of line like this. “Can you carry me to my room, sir?” For theatrics, you lay the back of your palm on your forehead and flip around so that the back of your head is lying on the table, and you’re now looking at your captain, who is upside down. Even upside down, he is so handsome. This makes Erwin chuckle. Oh god, it's a bad idea to be upside down. You suddenly get dizzy. Eren looks over and sees this fiasco and mumbles to himself, “shit,” before running over to you.

“Hey Y/N, you look tired; let’s get you back to your bunk.” Eren lifts you by your arms, and you let yourself be a dead weight while giggling. Your vision quickly jumps from an upside-down Levi to a right-side-up Eren, who was pulling you into him. 

“Hi, Eren.” You smiled at him sweetly. “Will you carry me to my room since you’re so strong?” You refer back to when he was trying to convince you to choose him. You then add more sweetness by giving him big puppy-dog eyes. 

Eren looks past you and apologizes to Captain Levi and Commander Erwin before he brings his attention back to you. “Yeah, of course.” Before Eren says anything else, you jump into him, grab the sides of his face, and kiss him passionately. His eyes widen, and his arms are weakly laid across your hips in an awkward fashion. He’s red from ear to ear when you pull away from his lips. Eren takes a moment to collect himself and then carries you on his back to your room. You fell asleep on his shoulder, and he laid you in your bunk and covered you with a blanket before he left. He walked away, brushing his lips with his fingers. He wondered if you’d remember doing that in the morning. 

-

Back to Captain Levi and Commander Erwin, who just watched Eren carry you off to bed. “That could’ve been you if you said yes,” Erwin says, raising an eyebrow and directing his laughter at Levi. 

“Oh, shut up; the brat just got too drunk for her own good.” Levi scoffed and continued to drink his tea, but his thoughts were filled with what-ifs. What would have happened if Eren hadn’t pulled you away? Would it have been him trying to take care of your drunk ass? He huffs to himself and calls it a night before standing up and leaving Erwin along with the rest of the cadets. He was suddenly no longer interested in being there.

-

Meanwhile, Jean saw everything. His chest hurt, but he reminded himself that he needed things like this in order to move on from you. Deep down, though, he kept wondering why Eren and not him. Was it just because Eren was there? Or do you secretly like Eren too? Liking Levi was one thing, but Eren was someone you could easily have if you so chose. Jean decided to have another drink. 

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly.

Chapter 6 Day 6: Hazy

Golden sunlight trickled through the curtains, it was a truly blissful scene, Geoff thought as he laid on his bed. Though, he was snapped out of his thoughts by some movement nearby.

Bridgette was still asleep. She was snuggled up on top of Geoff with her cheek pressed to his chest. Geoff couldn't help but smile, she was perfect. He lifted a hand to stroke his fingers through her golden locks. Bridgette smiled in her sleep at the contact and nuzzled her cheek further into Geoff's chest. Oh, how he loved her. She was his everything....

Geoff whined in protest as the dream faded out and his eyes opened.

The first thing he noticed was how hot and uncomfortable he was, did he have a fever?

The second thing he noticed was the ache in his right leg and back. As he glanced down at his legs, he saw that his wound had been bandaged up. He seemed to be in a cave, but how did he get here? Either way, he was still exhausted, surely it wouldn't hurt to get a few more minutes of rest?

His eyelids drooped and soon enough, he was fast asleep again.

When he awoke again, the first thing he saw was a pair of wide, grey eyes staring directly into his.

"G'mornin', Zeke...." Geoff yawned. Something felt different, he didn't feel the hardness of the cave floor. "Zeke?.. Is this my sleeping bag?..." Ezekiel nodded in response. "And you wrapped up my leg, too?..." Another nod. Geoff couldn't help but smile, it was nice that Ezekiel cared enough about him to make sure he was comfortable. He tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down by Ezekiel. "Rest." Ezekiel managed to growl out. "I take care." Geoff was the only member of the cast who had been somewhat nice to him, and he wasn't going to lose that allyship. He had to make sure the other teen didn't succumb to his wounds and die.

"You've been hanging onto your speaking skills, eh?.. It's nice to know that you still sound somewhat like you did a year ago..." Geoff smiled weakly, before coughing into his hand. Ezekiel gave Geoff a concerned look and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead. His temperature was still high, that wasn't good at all. "This place is really hot, isn't it?.." Geoff spoke. "Not hot. Fever." Ezekiel replied. "That makes sense, I feel gross.. " Geoff groaned. "How'd you get me here, anyways?.. I think I blacked out..." 

"Carry." Ezekiel carefully lifted Geoff off the ground as a demonstration before setting him back down on the sleeping bag. "You're stronger than I remember, does being a mutant give you more strength?..."

Ezekiel just shrugged in reply.

"Hungry? I make soup." Ezekiel pointed to a steaming pot on a campfire a couple meters away.

"You made soup?... how?..." Geoff was genuinely curious. "Did you raid Chef's kitchen or something?..."

Ezekiel gave Geoff a simple nod. "Chef not watch kitchen at night."

"Oh, I guess that checks out."

"I steal couple things from kitchen." Zeke shuffled off and came back with a large burlap sack. He reached into the sack and pulled out one of chef's bowls and a spoon. "Wow, that's pretty neat, homeschool.." Geoff grinned slightly.

"I feed you. You rest more. Good?"

"Yep, sounds good, buddy." Geoff sat up as best as he could and combed his fingers through his messy, blonde hair. Ezekiel wandered over to the pot with the fork and spoon before dipping the bowl into the pot and scooping up some of the soup. He went back over to Geoff with the bowl of steaming liquid.

"What's in that stuff, anyways?" Geoff stared at the chunks floating in the slightly thick liquid. "Potato. Fish. I steal salt from kitchen. " Ezekiel scooped up a spoonful of the soup and blew on it before offering it to Geoff. "You're getting pretty resourceful, huh?" Geoff replied before taking the spoon into his mouth. It was salty, though it didn't taste too bad. "Not bad, homeschool!" Geoff reached forwards and gave Ezekiel an appreciative pat on the head. A toothy grin spread across Ezekiel's face at the contact, and he continued to feed Geoff the soup.

After a little while, Geoff was fast asleep on the sleeping bag again. Since there was a little stream running through their part of the cave, Ezekiel had soaked a cloth with water and placed it on Geoff's forehead to try and regulate his body temperature.

Ezekiel hesitantly leaned in and pressed his ear against the other boy's chest to hear his heartbeat. It was comforting to hear the gentle rhythm of Geoff's heart and feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

It was nice to have a companion.

------

[idrnkwine]

Paris - Josh Hutcherson

Summary: You are Josh’s girlfriend and as a birthday gift he takes you to Paris.

Tags: fluffly, romantic, a bit sassy, mention to sex.

English is not my first language so please ignore any mistakes ❤️

Word count: 2.5K

"Cabin crew, prepare for landing," a deep voice reverberated through the airplane's PA system, waking me up. It was followed by an announcement with instructions on how we should prepare for landing: fasten seatbelts, open window shades, and return seats to the upright position.

The flight attendants then appeared in the aisle, checking each passenger to ensure everything was in order for landing. Still sleepy, I adjusted my seat to the upright position and fastened my seatbelt. Despite having spent almost 11 hours on the plane, I didn’t feel tired at all—the business class was indeed extremely comfortable.

I was as happy as a child about to go on their favorite ride at the amusement park; my heart was pounding in my chest, and I was grinning like an idiot. I turned to the side, looking for Josh's eyes.

"Good morning, baby," he said, smiling at me in that way that could make me melt in a second. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept wonderfully," I replied, beaming.

"That's great. Ready?" he asked, squeezing my hand.

"Ready," I said, smiling.

Our faces drew close for a quick kiss, and when our lips touched, I felt that warm sensation in my heart that no other guy had ever been able to give me before. Oh, I was completely in love with him, more and more every day.

"Crew, take your seats for landing," the pilot's voice returned.

I squeezed Josh's hand tighter, eagerly anticipating the days to come. This trip was his birthday gift to me, something I had dreamed of since the beginning of our relationship a few years ago. As the years passed, my love for him only grew stronger.

The plane descended gradually, and I felt a slight flutter in my stomach every time we lost altitude. Amazed, I watched out the window as we passed through the clouds. I felt Josh's face close to mine, also looking out the window with appreciation.

Then the clouds disappeared, and I saw the ground just dozens of meters below us. My heart beat faster and faster, so excited to finally be arriving. Quickly, those few dozen meters separating us from the ground dwindled down to just a few meters, then a few centimeters, and finally, the plane touched down, smooth and precise. I felt the force that pushed my body back into the seat as we sped down the runway, until the speed gradually decreased.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paris! The local time is 8:13 AM, clear skies, and a temperature of 19°C. We hope you had an excellent flight! Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened until the aircraft has come to a complete stop and the seatbelt sign is turned off. Once again, thank you for choosing American Airlines."

"We're in Paris!" I smiled at Josh with the excitement of a little girl.

"We're in Paris," he replied, laughing. Oh, he looked so handsome when he laughed. Unable to contain myself, I pulled him in for a kiss. "Thank you for this gift, my love."

"I love you," he said, caressing my cheek.

"I love you more."

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

"What do you want to see first?" Josh asked as I finished getting ready. He was lying on the bed, enjoying the macarons left as a welcome gift from the hotel.

Our suite was simply spectacular, with a stunning and refined appearance. It was all decorated with elegant and sophisticated furniture, like leather armchairs, ornate coffee tables, and carefully selected artwork. Everything in neutral tones of beige, white, and ivory, complemented by golden accents to add a touch of opulence.

"I have no idea, there are so many places to visit! But maybe the Eiffel Tower first?"

"That's an excellent choice," he replied, grabbing his phone and heading to the balcony.

I put my things in my bag and looked at myself in the mirror. For my first day in Paris, I had chosen a black-and-white plaid skirt and jacket set, typical of a cliché Parisian movie. I wore a black turtleneck underneath, sheer black tights and a pair of black boots. My hair was loose. I felt beautiful.

I saw Josh's reflection in the mirror, approaching me and then wrapping his tender hands around my waist. He looked at me with admiration.

"Baby, you look stunning," he said, leaving a soft kiss on my neck, which sent sweet shivers down my spine.

"You're not looking too bad yourself," I teased.

The truth is, he looked wonderful. He wore dark-wash jeans and a green sweater that made him incredibly attractive. I loved it when he wore green.

"You prefer to see me without wearing anything at all, don't you? I know," Josh said mischievously. His fingers went to my chin, turning my face toward him. He then enveloped my lips with his, kissing me with desire. I allowed myself to savor him for just a few seconds before breaking the kiss.

"Come on, Paris is waiting! We'll save the indecency for later," I said, teasing. Of course, I would love to make love to him in that luxurious hotel room, but we had the whole night for that. At that moment, all I wanted was to walk in the streets of the most romantic city in the world with my love.

"So 'we' to you is indecency? Oh, [your name], tonight I'll show you what indecency really is," he threatened, but soon smiled. No matter how much Josh tried to play the 'bad guy,' he could never keep up the act for long. He was naturally good.

"I can't wait," I replied, mysteriously. "Let's go!" I said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. Paris was waiting for us.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

The Parisian air envolved us with its fresh temperature as soon as we left the hotel. We walked for a few minutes, always accompanied by the Tower that stood imposingly in front of us, growing larger with every step. We crossed the Seine River, walking across the bridge that ended right in front of it. We stopped for a few photos.

"You look incredibly beautiful, but I think there's a little detail missing from your look," Josh said, paying attention to something happening to his left.

He let go of my hand and went to a guy displaying his products for sale on a cloth spread out on the bridge's railing. I watched as he talked to the vendor. It didn't take long for him to return with a black piece of cloth in his hand.

He approached me and placed the cloth on my head, and I realized it was a beret. No, it wasn't just any hat—it was a French beret.

"Now you're complete," he said, giving me a peck on the lips. I laughed.

"Now I'm a true Parisian. Ma chère."

"I have no doubt about that, mon amour," Josh said, gently caressing my neck with his fingers.

We continued our journey to the top of the tower. Although it was a big dream of mine, I had never really thought about how to get there. First, we took a gigantic panoramic elevator that could hold about 30 people, and it glided up one of the four bases of the large metal structure. Then we climbed a few flights of stairs until we reached another elevator, this one more like a 'regular' elevator. When we exited this one, I could already see all of Paris below us, but there were still a few more floors to reach the top, which we climbed on foot. My heart beat faster and faster, and the thrill of being up there, 281 meters above the ground, literally within the metal framework of one of the most famous tourist spots in the world, was unique.

As soon as the steps ended, I ran toward the railing. The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was truly incredible. I could see the entire city stretching beyond the horizon until it faded from sight. I could see the people walking along the Seine River as tiny dots in the landscape, and I saw the large buildings that looked more like projections of a well-crafted model. It was simply amazing.

Josh, who was beside me, seemed equally captivated by the view. Moving closer to him, I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for the gift."

He wrapped his arms around me. I could have stayed there forever, just him, me, and that breathtaking view.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, but this is just the beginning. There's still so much to see and do," he said in a soft voice.

"I know. And I can't wait to do it all with you," I replied, lifting my head to look into his eyes.

"I can't wait either," he concluded thoughtfully. "How about we go eat now? I'm starving. And I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What is it?" I asked, curious.

"You'll see soon enough. Let's go."

Holding my hand, he led me down the stairs until we reached the floor where the last elevator had dropped us off. But instead of joining the queue to go down, we went in the opposite direction, toward an enclosed area in one corner of the tower's structure.

"Restaurant Le Jules Verne," said the sign at the entrance.

"Bonjour madame, monsieur," a girl said as we entered the place. She had blonde hair, tied up in a perfect bun, and wore impeccable makeup.

"Bonjour. Je... je... a reservation. Hutcherson," my boyfriend said in the best French he could manage, which wasn’t all that great. The girl smiled, kindly.

"Hutcherson, for 2 people, correct?" she asked, checking her tablet. I caught Josh breathing a sigh of relief for not having to continue speaking in French.

"Yes," he replied.

The girl turned to one of the waiters and handed him a pair of menus. He smiled at us and led us to our table, which was in front of a large glass wall.

The whole place had an elegant atmosphere, with sophisticated and understated decor. I quickly realized that we would be dining with a stunning view of Paris, as the restaurant was on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower.

"We're going... literally... to have lunch at the Eiffel Tower?!" I asked, ecstatic.

"Yeah," he agreed casually.

"Thank you," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. It was much more than I had ever dreamed. "Oh, I didn't know you spoke French."

"Oui mon amour. Je... je...," he paused, trying to find the words. "Parle français. Un peu."

I have to admit, he sounded very sexy speaking like that. And in the end, his accent wasn't that bad.

"Do you parle français in bed too?" I asked in a low voice, worried someone might hear me.

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"In bed, I speak whatever you want, ma beauté," he replied, looking at me with desire.

I felt a warmth begin to grow inside me, and I turned my attention to the menu. This wasn't the time or place to get horny.

"What are we going to eat?" I asked, ignoring the sensations running through me.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

"I think I've never eaten so well in my life," Josh said, sighing as we walked along the Seine River.

Tall trees lined our right, separating the sidewalk from the street, and a low wall to our left divided the sidewalk from the lower level where some people were jogging and exercising. The river's water shimmered with the reflection of the sun, and the mild weather and blue sky made everything even more perfect. As the Eiffel Tower receded behind us, a charming bridge came into view. Its structure seemed to be made of metal, rising in gentle arches adorned along its entire length.

"Yeah, everything was really good! A few more days of eating like this, and I'll get spoiled!" I joked.

"I think I'm already spoiled," he added. "I can't stop thinking about those macarons at the hotel. I'm going to take a suitcase full of them back to Los Angeles."

"You are something else, Josh!"

"You're the one who’s something else, [Your Name]. Sometimes I look at you and think I'm dreaming. And I'm afraid to wake up from this dream and not find you anymore," my boyfriend said seriously.

"Don't worry, I'll always be with you. Dreaming or awake," I said, taking his hand. "I will never leave you."

"It's great to know that," he concluded, holding my chin and giving me a long, slow kiss. I loved when he kissed me like that.

"Do you want to cross this bridge?" he asked when our lips parted, pointing to the metal bridge.

"Yes."

Hand in hand, we walked to the middle of the bridge and then stopped and leaned against the railing to admire the view, which was incredible. I could see the Eiffel Tower in all its glory, the boats sailing on the river below us...

"[Your Name]," his voice snapped me out of my stupor. I turned my face toward him; he was looking at the water and smiling. "I never thought I’d meet someone like you." His eyes then lifted to meet mine, and I shook my head slightly in confusion at the sudden revelation.

"Me neither, my love," I said sincerely.

"Since I met you, my life has been filled with light, joy, and love. You inspire me every day to be a better person."

I felt my heart start to pound in my chest. I could imagine where this conversation was heading.

"I love your voice, your smile, your laugh, your presence. I love every part of you that completes me in a way I never thought possible. And I want to keep living this adventure of being by your side for the rest of my life. A life to last with you."

My hands were sweating, tears that I hadn't even noticed forming were now streaming down my face, and I was trembling.

"And that's why..." His hands went to his pants pocket, pulling out a small black box. It was happening. He knelt before me, revealing a stunning ring with a solitary stone on top that sparkled brilliantly. "[Your Name], my love... will you marry me?"

The tears were flowing freely down my face, and I felt like I was floating. I looked deep into his eyes, intoxicated by his love.

"Yes!" I answered in ecstasy, without hesitation for even a second. Because the only certainty I had in life was this, that I wanted to live with him for the rest of my life.

Smiling, he placed the ring on my finger, sealing our promise of love.

When Josh stood up, my hands went straight to his hair, which I loved to stroke. He, with one hand on the back of my neck and the other around my waist, pulled me into a kiss. A kiss different from any we had shared before. This one was an intoxicating mix of desire, care, and devotion, silently sealing our decision to share a life together.

[elismor]

Getting to Know All About Me

A BUNCH of folks tagged me for the Nine People You'd LIke to Get To Know Better game...and some others for a longer version...Imma condense to one post.

Last song stuck in your head: The theme song from The Jeffersons. (Don't ask...I have no idea why either. But fish don't fry in the kitchen and beans don't burn on the grill.)

Favorite dinosaur: Triceratops

Last mode of transportation: My car.

Fluff/smut/angst/crack?:  Yes to fluff and yes to [some] smut for sure. I do love to get dark and twisty, too...but whump is very much not my thing and I have enough existential dread in my own life--don't want it in my fic, thanks. Crack? Mmmm.... probably not.

Pet status: oh LAWD yes. 4 dogs, 3 cats, 2 horses, 1 pony

Current temperature where you are: 63.9F/17.7C in my office

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes. My legal name is a portmanteau of my two grandmothers' and my used-to-be-middle-now-hyphenated-into-my-last is for my great grandmother.

2. When was the last time you cried?

September 25, 2022.

3. Do you have kids?

Nope.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

Varsity tennis and volleyball. And horses since I was 5.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Is the Pope Catholic?

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

If I am people-watching, it's the way they walk. If I'm in a store, it's something they say.

7. What is your eye color?

Quite blue.

8. Scary movies or Happy Endings?

Neither? IDK. If I had to pick one, I would go with happy. But what I really like are natural endings.

9. Any talents?

I am good with animals and have a somewhat green thumb.

10. Where were you born?

On the shores of a Great Lake. Well. In a hospital. But it was like 3 blocks from the lake so....

11. What are your hobbies?

Galloping across the countryside in fancy dress, photography, writing.

12. Do you have any pets?

See above. LOTS of them.

13. How tall are you?

5'9.5" or 1.76 meters

14. Favorite subject in school?

In high school it was English. In college it was Physical Anthropology.

15. Dream Job?

Listen. I do not dream about working. I dream about travel and walking out hounds and riding horses and writing novellas on rainy days. I work to pay the bills and it's always been that way for me.

I am going to low-pressure tag-back everyone who tagged me, since I combined two games...maybe do the one you haven't already?

@blirzy, @loverboy-havocboy, @anstarwar, @hawthornsword, @lizardberries, @marbled-polecat, @bilbosmom-belladonna

[modx-reborn]

Kinktober Day 16: Exhibitionism with Sam

... It's a show!

Just not one that was expected by you.

MINORS DNI!

It's easy to coo and cajole you into joining him in the prison, a little visit that means he can show you all his work, all the hard tasks and struggles that had kept him from you all those months ago. 

And yet after all the security checks, pat downs with lingering hands and giggles that followed the heavy rasp of the warden's voice as he grumbles about protocol and how he knows your not going to do anything or try to reach the prisoner, after all, you were here for him not for the waste of space locked in the obsidian cube deep within the halls. 

It is so easy for Sam to fall from the roll of the warden and fit back into the shape of your lover, your Sammy, your dear creeper hybrid that showed you how to make redstone circuits and who holds you each night he retires for the night. The way you marvel and wonder over his work, bubble elevators and respawn chambers making you giddy, the teleport back up leaving you to ramble over the use of them and what could have made such a thing needed, ahh how sweet you were in the ignorance of what was hidden away in the cells. 

While you may have been ignorant of the prisoner, the prisoner was very very aware of you. 

Days checking the lava and bridge transport meant that the clawing hands of the prisoner, of Dream, often caught his eye, making him pull away from his tasks to listen briefly to the rambling mess of words and insanity that spewed forth with every visit. Only recently he had taken to rambling about you, talking in circles about how good of a spouse you must be to wait all this time for Sam, to sit idle and pretty, even going as far as teasing the idea of having his right-hand man pay you a visit, relocate you and start a whole new collection with you front and centre. 

The warden never laid a hand on the prisoner, but Sam, Sam has cracked his jaw and left him bleeding as he laughed in his cell. 

But today, today sam had a little plan, sure it was underhanded to have you believe that the wall of lava before you was just that a wall, a side of the cell that did not face the prisoner or his actual room but he needed Dream to understand that even if he was to get out and get his hands on you, it would always be his name on your lips and his face you think of at night, not his, never his. 

So what were you to do but eagerly meet the kiss offered to you, sliding your hands under the plates of neatherite and digging into the soft leather below, laughing as Sam grunts at your hands stumbling through the actions of pulling the armoured plates away from his body. Eager kisses and searching hands lead to layers being shed quickly and your skin warmed by the lava flowing a few meters from where you had been sat, legs thrown over thick thighs, hands looped around a muscled neck and hips riding with the intent to take everything your dear partner had to offer. 

Sam was not a small man, by height or by the sheer thickness of his cock, sure you had fucked before and would again and again but nothing ever got you ready for when he pressed his hands to your hips, kicking one of his feet out and hitting some button or switch before planting his feet and bucking up into you. 

"You take me so well, every time I get you on my cock you feel perfect like you were made for me... Just for me." The possessive rasp of his voice is odd, catching you off guard and drawing you into the easy response of 'only for you!' oh so ignorant of the extra set of eyes that had begun devouring your form. 

"Sweetheart, look, open your eyes and look at him-" The dropping temperature had you drooping, eyes fluttered closed only to open when prompted, catching the faraway leering of an unfamiliar man, "-look at how desperate he is to see you, but your mine! Mine to fuck, mine to hold and mine to love. Aren't you? I know you are, but he needs to know, to see how you love me..." 

You had once teased Sam with the idea of letting someone watch you fuck him, but he had turned you down, but now here you were being bounced on his cock, hands digging into the soft undershirt of his uniform as he hisses in your ear, possession and praise in every breath. 

[mrhyde-mrseek]

SCIENCE MOST SINISTER - PART FIFTEEN

CW: Vomiting/emetophobia, slight body horror, disturbing imagery.

Gwen stood in front of the mirror that leaned against the wall of her bedchamber, holding the antique knife in front of her chest.

Behind her, Newt’s reflection wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His mouth moved with the words he spoke in a gentle, soothing tone. “You have no reason to be afraid, my love. Do you recall my instructions?”

She nodded; her throat had closed up, and her words became lodged beneath the blockage.

Despite the fact that it was nearing the end of November, the temperature had stubbornly refused to grow colder than eleven degrees Celsius. Today, however, the weather had taken a turn for the worst: dark clouds gathered on the horizon, and frost dusted the ground like ash. It was as though the sky knew the gravity of what the House was about to do.

She laid her head on Newt’s shoulder. In the light from the gas lamps, both her and Newt’s dark eyes appeared to shimmer; Gwen’s left eye, a startling gold, practically glowed in contrast. She watched her reflection a few moments longer, then closed her eyes.

“What if we fail?” she whispered.

“Oh, Gwen.” Eyes still closed, she felt Newt kiss the top of her head. “We will not fail. I promise you.”

She stood up straight. “And how do you know?” she demanded, now looking at him straight on. “How can you be so optimistic that absolutely nothing will go wrong?”

“I never said nothing will go wrong. We may encounter obstacles we never anticipated. All I said was that in the end, we will succeed in ridding you of your curse and this house of its demon.”

There came a knock on the door. Victor poked his head inside the bedchamber. “Holmes has returned,” he announced.

Gwen looked nervously at Newt. Now was the time. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and stepped out of the room after Victor, Newt following close behind.

Halfway down the stairs, she found that Holmes had not come alone. He stood in the entrance hall with two strangers, a young man and woman, both of whom were in eager conversation with Van Helsing.

Van Helsing glanced up at the sound of Gwen and Newt’s footsteps. “There you both are. Newton and Gwen, I would like to introduce Jonathan and Mina Harker. We believe they could be of great assistance to us.” He gestured to the couple.

Gwen descended the final few steps. “Dr. Guinevere Crowley. This is my colleague, Dr. Newton Blackrod,” she said.

Mina smiled warmly. “Holmes told us you were the one carrying the curse,” she said to Gwen. A bolt of panic shot through her, which must have shown on her expression, as Mina continued, “I have been through a similar ordeal quite recently, so I understand your fear well.”

Gwen’s eyebrows shot up. “You have?”

Before Mina could elaborate—if she was going to at all—Holmes asked, “Newt, are we ready to proceed?”

“Yes.” Newt nodded in the direction of the laboratory, where the other House members waited.

“Then let us go.”

In the laboratory, Newt and Van Helsing moved the table aside and pushed the hidden door open, revealing the staircase beyond. Holding a lantern aloft, the professor led the way down them.

The demon knew they were coming. Gwen could feel it deep in her bones. Gruesome shapes emerged from the walls in the flickering lantern light, rolling eyeballs and crooked teeth and twitching, ghoulish fingers; but when she tried to look at them directly, they scuttled back into the shadows.

Laughter filled the cellar by the time they reached the foot of the stairs. A hot, rotten stench hung in the air. Gwen clutched Newt’s knife so hard her knuckles turned white. The well sat only meters away, looking as unassuming as any normal water-well, but they all knew better.

A moan sounded near Gwen’s ear. Griffin’s breathing had become labored, and he was whimpering erratically as though in extreme pain. Unsure what to do, Gwen stared at him. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet all day, and now she had no idea what was wrong. “Griffin?” she tried tentatively.

At first, he didn’t respond. Then a chuckle crawled out of his throat, a laugh that escalated to a mad cackle. But something about it did not sound entirely like Griffin—it was too cold, too forced, like an amateur actor ordered to laugh on cue without any previous practice.

An invisible hand seized her by the wrist. She let out a yelp as she felt him try and rip the knife from her grasp. Newt yanked her away and held her to his chest. “Griffin, what the hell are you doing?” she cried.

The hollow, growling voice that answered was most definitely not Griffin’s. “I cannot allow you to proceed with this, Guinevere,” it said.

Then he coughed, and spat a black liquid onto the floor. A ripple passed through the air where he stood, and suddenly a pair of eyes became visible in the place his head should be. The sclera was still translucent, but the irises were a bright blood red.

“By God, he’s been possessed!” Van Helsing ran over and grabbed Griffin by the arm. Griffin fought him madly, an inhuman growl rumbling in his chest. Holmes darted forward and helped Van Helsing tug him back away from the others.

“Gwen, you must do it now!” the detective shouted, struggling to pin the thrashing invisible man against the wall.

Swallowing hard, Gwen nodded. She approached the well, raising the knife.

An enraged roar shook the walls, coming from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. Black tar erupted from the well. Dripping tendrils lashed about the room, searching blindly for someone to grab onto. The liquid seeped into the cracks in the floor, and the stone tiles swelled like a wave, throwing them all off their feet. Gwen hit the ground hard on her side. Newt’s knife was knocked out of her grip and sent skidding across the floor.

A cry made her whirl around. The well-liquid had latched onto Harker’s ankle and started to drag him toward the well. Mina and the Time Traveller lunged for him and caught hold of his arms. She made to run over to help, but the Time Traveller said through gritted teeth, “We have him, get the knife!”

The knife. It lay across the room, amidst a tipped-over stack of crates. But when she attempted to retrieve it, she was forced back by the swinging tendrils of well-liquid.

She caught Newt’s eye. Understanding immediately what she wanted him to do, he made a dash for the knife, dodging the demon’s wild attacks.

He reached the crates successfully and snatched up the knife. Before he could even turn around, a globule of tar landed on his foot, splattering across the floor. He tugged at it, but it would not budge. “Gwen, I’m stuck!” he shouted.

“Throw the knife to me!” She held up her hands. He pulled back his arm and tossed the knife handle-first across the cellar. It flew over the well, and she stretched up on her toes to reach it. Miraculously, she managed to catch hold of the handle, though she nearly missed it entirely.

A piercing shriek, like nails scraping across a chalkboard, rang out in protest. She bent over, hands clamped over her ears. Enough with this nonsense, she told herself; and, gathering all the courage she could muster, she ran to the well and plunged the knife into the center.

The blade pierced something solid that pulsed with a steady rhythm. A grating, skull-rattling groan shook the cellar, as though coming from the house’s very core. All at once, the black liquid retreated into the well, swirling in a whirlpool down and down and down into the depths of the earth. Gwen felt a jolt in her abdomen, and then agony so sharp and so hot that for a moment her vision turned white. She gagged as something dark gushed from her mouth and down into the well.

At last, at long last, the cellar fell completely silent. Her legs gave out, and she slumped onto the well, exhausted and breathless.

Then, she heard a crack. The ancient bricks were beginning to crumble into dust. She gave a cry of alarm as the wall beneath her collapsed, causing her to lose her balance.

Before she fell, a pair of arms grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the hole. Watson looked down at her, spectacles knocked askew, appearing utterly shaken. Trembling, she gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Newt hurried over and helped her to her feet. For a while they merely gazed at each other, panting and grinning like fools. Then a curious mixture of a laugh and a sob bubbled up in Gwen’s throat, and then they were both in a pile on the floor again, heads buried in each other’s shoulders, wrapped in an embrace so tight they soon found it hard to breathe.

A fit of coughing brought them back to the present. Jekyll was leaning on Hyde’s cane, using it to help him to stand. He glanced about the room in wonderment—and Gwen saw that his eyes had returned to their normal unclouded blue, and the scales on his arms had disappeared.

He caught her eye and shook his head disbelievingly. “It . . . it worked,” was all he seemed able to articulate.

Their plan had worked.

Then Gwen remembered Griffin. At some point during the battle (most likely when she had stabbed the demon), Griffin had collapsed, and Holmes and Van Helsing had lowered him to his knees while still maintaining a secure grip on his arms just in case. Now he seemed to be returning once more to consciousness. His eyes, Gwen noticed, had become fully invisible once again.

He groaned. Still in a daze, he slowly became aware of his situation. “What are you . . . why am I . . .” he muttered, never quite finishing any of his sentences.

“Shall we let him go?” Holmes asked, but Van Helsing held up a hand.

“Wait,” the professor ordered. “We are not yet certain it is truly him.”

“I think it really is him this time, Van Helsing,” said Gwen.

“I believe so, too, so release me!” Griffin snapped, having regained enough sense to be put off. “Holmes is practically trying to break my arm.”

Holmes and Van Helsing finally slackened their grip. “My apologies, Griffin, but you were trying to kill us,” Holmes said.

“Was I?”

Van Helsing’s brow furrowed. “How much do you remember?”

“I can’t recall a thing since the previous night.”

“Perhaps we should discuss memory capacity upstairs,” the Time Traveller suggested, “and leave this place to rot, shall we?”

“And bar the door,” Victor added with a shiver.

Most of the House proceeded up to the laboratory. Gwen and Newt lingered behind with Van Helsing and the Harkers and watched as they went about setting demonic entity-repelling symbols around the perimeter of the well. Gwen leaned her head against Newt’s shoulder and sighed contentedly.

She was free.

[lordsofthevideowasteland]

WE DON'T GO WHERE THE LIGHT WON'T FALL

   I love this town, I really do. 

   I love its cozy cobblestone streets, the lazy way that the warm artificial wind blows the cornstalks. The way the golden perpetual twilight gives an impression of a deathless utopian dream. The people here are so friendly, and helpful. From the Mulberries, Tom and Jill and Jack, who fill the high streets with the smell of baking bread and tarts, to Jordan and Sam the greengrocers, who are always fonts of gardening information. 

   Even Raif, the old barkeep, for all his reputation as a curmudgeon, barely conceals a heart of gold beneath that rough exterior. We are a real community here. We work together, we help each other out. Even the Guards never put a toe out of line, never abusing their power as the police did habitually back on Earth.

    I used to hate when I would leave my house back then, head encased in blaring headphones, to see a neighbour strolling past. I didn’t know my neighbours. I feared my neighbours. I feared for myself because they were alienating, paranoid, desperate times but now I am delighted to hear a knock at my door at any time of day. I can talk to the townsfolk here. They enrich me, and I feel like in some small way I enrich them. We live without fear of each other.

    The children, though. 

    The children terrify me. They terrify us all. 

    We try not to talk about them now, it hurts too much. When we meet we discuss our projects, our gardens, our music. Light gossip. Nothing heavy. Nothing real.

    When I was paired by Grandfather with my wonderful wife Alice, I was ecstatic to be matched up with someone I actually found myself falling in love with. Soon after, from our combined genome, our son was grown. Rufus. I loved him, and I still do, despite what he has become. 

      Alice isn’t here anymore. She was selected to guard the borders between where the golden artificial twilight stops, and the cold darkness hungers. The alleyways, the basements, the treatment plants and sewage pipes and even certain houses which, for reasons we dare not question, just one day blinked off without warning. The families inside never emerged again, never in the way we remember them.

   Rufus told me everything about the day Alice was taken. Every detail. Grandfather does not allow us to ignore or interrupt the children. He protects them from us as he protects us from ourselves, and each other. But he does not limit them as our own fear limits us, and for some unfathomable reason, the things in the dark do not seem to want to hurt the children the same way they seem to so desperately need to hurt us.

    Alice was posted against the back of a T junction, a crossroads technically if you count the alleyway between Mulberries bakery and Tanner’s sweet shop. We never do. We always try to pretend it isn’t there. She was wearing that pristine, blue nylon uniform, with it’s shining cap and golden badge, sweet as can be. Her gun slung at her hip, she greeted our neighbours warmly. Longing, I'm sure, for some friendly conversation or philosophical discussion to distract from the yawning abyss before which she stood sentinel.

   Nobody stayed for more than a passing pleasantry in a place like that, at the mouth of an ally where the temperature drops like the sun just went behind a cloud and the darkness waits sloshing a scant few meters away from where you stand.

    It was around lunch hour, a time when I was sitting at the table back home waiting, hoping in vain that, just this one, rufus would show and eat his lunch like a good boy and talk to me about anything other than the things he saw in the dark that day.

    Alice had to watch, and smile, and encourage as Rufus and a group of his little friends ran, dressed in their little swimming trunks and bathing suits, clutching pool toys in their pudgy fists, jeering past her into the darkness. The urge to stop them, to stop him was surely strong, but grandfather took manual control of her neurons as he always does and let them go.

    Artificial endorphins are no replacement for the real thing. A lack of context for a burst of dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin leads to a state more suggestive of a fever dream then any true happiness or contentment. I haven’t screamed since I had grandfather installed, but I very much would like to. I never want to do anything anymore save for screaming.

    Rufus, however, can scream, and that sound is what drew Alice into the alley that day. He was crying for help, only pretending as he let me know, with a giggle. He told me he saw her walk, shivering into the darkness, gun drawn, calling out for him at the edge of where the alley was flooded with black, fetid water. Rufus kept out of sight, dipping under and holding his breath when he thought she could see her, hiding behind floating piles of organic waste and discarded plastic. He told me that going into the water let him do a great gurgling pretend drowning, and that was what sent her into the water.

   The water was full of trash, refuse both organic and artificial, in every possible state of rust, rot and ruin. Rufus assured me that these things “stay away” when he and his friends enter the water, but I don’t believe him. I’ve had to wash layers of reeking grime off of him more times than I can count, and anyway, where the light doesn’t touch, Grandfather doesn’t either. That’s how they get you. 

  You want to go in for a moment to scream, to cry, to mourn. To feel on your own terms, and then they take you. Rufus told me that Alice was making funny sounds, calling his name in a funny way, that she sounded like a dog when you poke it with something sharp. She must have been in hysterics. She had to throw her gun aside and swim because Rufus kept moving further and further away.

    I asked him, with enforced placidity, why he would do that to his own mother, why he would take her from me. He was bored, he said, and so was Mr. Holes. 

    Grandfather once rewarded curiosity and engagement with the children’s idiosyncracies by resetting the tumors in our bodies, thus extending our lifespans. When he realised, however, that many of us were intentionally trying to avoid life extension and do everything we could to accelerate that tumor growth, an update patch was installed to allow full neurological control whenever he deemed us as being neglectful

   So I asked Rufus who Mr.Holes is despite earnestly wanting to sew his mouth shut and drown him in a boiling pot of milk.

   Mr. Holes lives in the pipes below the bakery. Mr. Holes has many arms and a shell on his back and a soft, squishy body with no legs and he has holes in his face that the baby worms come out of. He blows bubbles out of a big nostril on his side and when he grabbed mommy he pulled her mouth apart and the worms came out and crawled into her face and started eating her insides because Mr. Holes’ baby worms have lots of teeth.

     My head hurts all the time now and I feel nothing. Grandfather must have given me brain damage trying to keep my mood stable that day and in the days that have followed, overloading my nervous system with endorphins to the point of poisoning, burnout. I can barely think now. My voice is strange, my words slurred.

    I went to visit Professor Hummel today. He lives in a windmill on the hill. He told me I could talk to him about anything so I told him what Rufus told me that day when Alice died. Not even his eyes betrayed his true reaction, so great is grandfather’s hold on us all. When I finished telling him about what Rufus saw in the dark that day he asked me if I wanted to hear a strange story. I said yes, of course. 

  He told me about when he was on an anthropological solo expedition on Earth, researching for a book. This was many years before his enrollment in the programme and subsequent arrival to the station. He was in Africa, on the site of an early human settlement. He said that the place was mythologized as being home to a semi settled society of peace, progress, and co-operation. IT was said that they subsisted off of some animal that lived in the earth, but no trace of this animal ever showed up in archaeological digs, and no real description of it survived years of ontological decay.

  The professor was shocked, however, to find that when he was alone out there, the very first day and he dug his hands into the desert soil he came across an abundance of fat, white grubs as big as the palm of your hand. Nobody had ever found anything like it in a long history of research, digs and expeditions, but he was able to find them all around him, a few inches below the dry soil.

  He photographed them, catalogued them, even cooked and ate one. It tasted of prawn.

  I asked him, politely, how this related to Alice’s death, and he told me that when he went to pull up another grub to eat, he found himself struggling to unearth not another 3 to 4 inch specimen as he had before, but a seemingly endless rope of fat, white flesh. As he pulled, it seemed like he was forcing something large up from beneath the ground as dozens of the smaller grubs started erupting, wriggling in panic from the ground like pus from pores.

 What he pulled up was a writhing thing, he said. A black rubbery head with the impression of a human face across it, like you see on the shell of a Heikegani, which he told me is a kind of crab from japan that fishermen would throw away if they seemed to have the faces of dead samurai on their backs. Over time, they all evolved to bear this facial mark as a survival mechanism. He said the long grubs emerged from this head like the tentacles of an octopus, and as it rose from the ground it seemed to pull the sun out of the sky, day turning to night.

  I asked him what happened then and he told me that he ran as far as he could, and ended up lost in the desert. The next day he got a flight home, and never finished the book. I asked what this had to do with Alice, and he looked at me in a way nobody had in years. It was a look of heartbreak, like I didn’t understand something intimate that I should have. He told me he never told anyone that story. That he was never sure if it ever really happened, but he knows it did, he was there. 

  Those people were so civilised, he said. Like us.

   I left his house and I walked down Franklin street with it’s smell of baking bread and all my friends bustled around me. I smiled at them and they smiled at me but I didn’t speak to them. I went to the alleyway between the Mulberries bakery and Tanner’s sweet shop and I felt the warmth being sucked out of the air. Now I see the dark beyond and the edge of the water but I can’t smell the rot. Grandfather’s light keeps the air smelling of honey and hope and joy.

   I want to go in there and scream. I want to go into the water and die but I know how Mr.Holes kills and I don’t want to die like that. I could find another dark place, ask Rufus to find me a monster that will kill me painlessly but he will lie to me. He will bring me somewhere worse than I could ever imagine and by the time I realise what he’s done it will be too late.

    So I turn away from the darkness and face the impression of an ever setting sun, I turn myself towards home and walk. Because I love this town, and I could never, ever leave it.

[estrogenandspite]

Flipping Retrograde

(this was a response to a writing prompt, "Starship pilot who sings on an open comms channel".)

"You'll want to watch yourself when you're getting close to Hydra-1219," the voice coming out of Xarella's console belonged to Selene. Selene was an Operator working out of Hydra Rotational Transit. She had hair that flowed like an auburn waterfall, a wit that could cut a krysteel hull, and a laugh that had absolutely stolen Xarella's heart.

"What's wrong with 1219?" Xarella asked. She'd heard the news. Everyone in this cluster had heard the news. But by asking she got a bit longer with Selene, got hear the way Selene's voice lit up when she got passionate about something.

"How the hell did you miss this?" Selene asked, her speech growing faster with excitement. "Oh I'm so lucky I get to tell you. Drell Vessel was spotted in the area with a temperature ten degrees above ambient background radiation. There's a thirty AU quarantine around it because that means it's engines were probably running in the last two thousand years. A Drell vessel that might have been active during the 18th century on Earth."

The Drell had existed before humanity. They'd vanished before humanity had reached the stars. This discovery pushed back their date of extinction from 4500 BCE to around the time humanity had figured out nukes. Their name was based on the sole sound that had been recovered from one of their computers.

They were Selene's special interest.

"Tell me all about what this means," Xarella asked.

Selene laughed. "I see you, Xarella Car'domma. You're just trying to get more of my time."

"Guilty as charged," Xarella said.

"Give me a moment." There was a beep of another incoming call. This from Selene's personal transponder. Xarella shifted over. "You still there?"

"Yup."

"I've got thirty more minutes in this shift. I'll put you on mute so we don't miss each other, and then I'll fill you in. Sound good?"

Xarella grinned. "I get to hear more of your voice? Sounds like heaven."

"Flattery will get you everyone," Selene said. Then the sound on the other end went silent as Selene went back to work.

Xarella leaned back in her chair, looking over the instruments on her console. Ship atmosphere was in nominal ranges. Essential systems and their backups were all in the green. Engines were running hot, giving her a nice, comfortable one G of acceleration. Xarella was a transxeno in addition to being transgender. She could kick herself up to ten G's and the augmentations she had would keep her alive. But that would mean Xarella would break free of Alpha Centauri's Heliopause in about half an hour. At the sedate one G she was moving? She'd get plenty of time to talk to Selene before she was in deep space and needed to make the jump to Warp.

So Xarella kicked back, put her feet on the dash, and hummed a few bars. She had a half our, time to work on the song she was composing for Selene. It was rough. Cheesy. The meter was off. But Selene would love it.

"They call them rogue worlds Drifting through the void They call us rouge hearts And love we should avoid.

Well baby I've lived my life Seeking apoapsis The furthest darkest point From any star where warmth is.

Then I From there Saw a moon So fair Her name Selene But I'm so far From there

So I'm flipping retrograde And I'm burning to periapsis The closest point to moonlight That's where my heart is

So I'm flipping retrograde Until my orbit reaches yours Burning at ten Gs Wishing I burned more

I once was a rogue world Drifting through the void My heart found gravity And I'm pulled in centroid

So I looked to see the well That I would now orbit And it took my breath away So baby, this is it.

Because I From there Saw a moon So fair Her name Selene But I'm so far From there

So I'm flipping retrograde And I'm burning to periapsis The closest point to moonlight That's where my heart is

So I'm flipping retrograde Until my orbit is...ensnared. A gravity formed ring..."

Xarella hummed the last few bars. She wasn't sure exactly about that last bit. Maybe she needed to make the metaphor a bit less literal, or perhaps-

"You know I just muted, not deafened, right?"

Xarella shot upright in her seat, nearly falling out of it. "Well...shit," she said.

"You know," Selene said, her voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't help but notice. My name is also Selene."

"What a coincidence," Xarella said. "So strange."

Selene sighed, and it turned into a laugh. "You'll be returning to Alpha Centauri after your trip to 1219, won't you?"

"Mmhmm," Xarella said, her heart pounding.

"Maybe...maybe when you get back, I can hear the finished song."

"I'd like that," Xarella said, her face breaking into an idiotic grin. "Yesssss," she hissed under her breath when Selene muted herself.

Selene unmuted. "I can still hear you. Dork."

"That time, you were supposed to," Xarella said. "Now. Finish up your shift. Then tell me about the Drell."

"I'd love nothing more."