#like suddenly she has no patience for her CHILD FRIEND who just lost EVERYTHING

[pyr0cue]

Callum betraying ezran, a child ruler who just lost his entire kingdom while celebrating a wedding unaware of the destruction only to be immediately confronted with the guy who killed his father when he was like 10, because he’s dating rayla again. If I was ezran I would simply never speak a word to callum again tbh. He couldn’t be a little mad for like 3 days??

[sly-merlin]

GOT PLAYED | JENO

Hello mam can I request a lawyer jeno scenario where reader (gender neutral so everyone can read) is a prosecutor and they are in the same court together

Lawyer Boyfriend jeno , gender neutral lawyer reader

Genre : fluff with nonsense bickering

Words: 1.5k

a/n: jeno is a big boi now! Happy jeno-ing!! Also the terms used are local to my country. It may vary in your state.

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your butt was itching to dance out in the centre of the courtroom. Clicking your forefinger on the watch, you observed the lovely minute hand completing another circle, indicating the approaching end of the waiting time. The opposing party being a minute more late would mean nothing but good news for your client, resulting in another victory for you.

But when had you ever won anything without a little struggle! As the clock on the wall hit 11, the door of the room opened and across the room stood Jeno, breathing heavily like he had been running since hours. You rolled your eyes at his awful timing. He handed over his briefcase to his client and wore his blazer hurriedly while simultaneously bowing to the judge in deference and apology. The judge, disregarding his gesture with his hand called him to the front. You got up as well, in annoyance of course. You had very much hoped for his car to have punctured on its way but it seemed like he needed to get on your nerves even in the court as well. standing beside him, you couldn’t help but notice the wrinkles on the right side of his blazer. The oddity puzzled you at first but suddenly, with a subtle glare from his side, you were made aware of the reason behind his change of clothes. Not wearing the ones that you steam ironed last night was a show of anger towards you, even if it made him look like a fool in front of the whole chamber.

“a minute late and I’d have passed an interlocutory order against your client Mr.lee” breaking your trance, the judge warned him. He bowed again and mumbled a mannerly apology, the like of which you deserved too.

“today the hearing would start with the counter evidence of the defendant side, that is,” he sifted through the list of the evidence provided beforehand, “the bank records of both the parties. Please proceed advocate lee”

“yes, your honour. As I explained in a previous hearing, my client, mrs. Shin has been working as a manager of the Kwon industries since 14 years. On the other hand, mr. shin started a poker business with the money she used to save up for their only son’s future. All the transactions from her personal accounts to mr. shin’s were innocently carried out by her as she was kept under a false impression regarding the use of her money, which she never would have allowed in her right mind. The proof of these transfers is the evidence I’m going to present that is the receipts and annual reports.”

The urge to smack his tongue for the lies it told was uncontrollable but you breathed in. you inhaled all the bitterness back to your throat and stood there like an obedient child with a face ridden of any expressions.

After what felt like minutes, you snapped your head in his direction to notice the browsing he was doing in his briefcase. The questionable look on his face drew a smirk into your own as you understood the sensitiveness of the matter in hand. He forgot. The papers!

Throwing your charitable side out of the door, you turned towards the judge,

“it seems like the opposing counsel has nothing to produce, your honour.”

You felt his clenching jaw and irritated eyes.

“mr. lee, if you are unable to proceed then i’ll have to pass a maintenance order against your client.”

“no!” he interrupted, “that would be unfair to this poor lady sir. don’t penalise her for my negligence. The evidence can turn the course of this whole case. if you may, I’d request another date-

“he’s going to forget again. He forgets everything these days” before you could control, you spit out.

The judge didn’t seem to be impressed by your uncalled interruption so he warned you to speak only when allowed. But with a mouth as big as his, jeno never knew what resistance meant so he remarked,

“and my dear friend here forgets the ethics of a courtroom, disrespecting seniors like this! There is not much difference between us then I must say.”

Your lip twitched at the not so subtle mention of the fight you had in the morning, right before the breakfast. Now you were adamant on proving that no matter the place and circumstances, you were definitely not similar to him in any way.

“disrespecting and raising matters of importance are two varied things and my dear counsel should be reading those ethic rules for himself as he’s the one jeopardising the position of his client in the court due to his own manners. I request the court to grant mr. shin all the rights to his properties that mrs. Shin had seized years ago. He’s a disabled man and he cannot work by himself and the lack of evidence is a clear indication that the defendants are just trying to waste the time of the court. Along with the rights of the properties, a lawful possession of the house and maintenance charges are also requested. All the claims can be found on the page 15 of the-

“I object, your honour. I am accepting my mistake. This woman deserves a second chance. My junior was sick and since he has no near and dear in this town, I had to go and care for him. in the hurry, I forgot the papers at home. It was not delibra-

“what if you don’t remember this next time either? Until then my client is going to suffer in a small and stinky apartment and all because of your carelessness.”

“I’m not careless,” He whispered yelled.

“yes,” now facing him, you said, arms crossed in front of you torso, “a man who can’t even hold a mug properly shouldn’t be the one talking about-

“you started it by smashing the music box. It was a gift by jaemin. I bet you did it deliberately too!”

“I was sleep walking! I apologised already! There was no need to break my favourite mug you bit-

The sound of gavel reverberated in the small family courtroom, snapping both of you in the reality.

You gulped slightly, eyes boring into jeno’s but with unknown fear. In an instant, the worst consequences of blunder you both had knowingly-unknowingly committed flashed across your eyes and you both whirled around, backs bent like you both never knew what a straight spine ever looked like!

“keep your personal and professional life separate or choose the one most suitable. The court is adjourned for two days. You both shall be heavily fined for your inappropriate behaviour. Next time, I won’t be lenient. Collect your slips from the clerk.”

Apologising verbally, you took your leave.

Standing outside, you waited for the lunch time to pass so you could pay the fine. you were mad at jeno but more than him, you were furious with yourself for losing your direction. You had done exactly what you were trying to accuse jeno of in the court.

Your eyes were closed in regret when you felt soft lips on your forehead.

Smiling widely, jeno stood there as if he hadn’t been scolded for the unprofessionalism just a few hours ago.

“don’t talk to me.” You uttered, lowering your gaze.

“awww! Look how easy it is to rile you up. Thank you though”

unsure of what he said, you asked,

“for what?”

“for fighting with me! Your bickering saved my ass. The old man was going to decide the case but your cute brain worked at the wrong time! Now I have two days to turn all my lies into a living truth. All because of you my darling.”

“what the fuck I’m gonna ki-

“yeah yeah. kiss me all you want when we are home. Be professional here!” he breathed out. “how about I treat you to a nice meal to return the favour.”

Chest heaving up and down, you looked him dead in the eye, his revelations not sounding too amusing to your ears. Raising your hand up and waving the fine slip in front of him, you challenged,

“I dare you to repeat this again and I promise you wont get enough time to regret it!”

Not that you actually expected him to cry in front of you in intimidation, a hearty laugh from his body wasn’t anticipated either.

“what the fuck je-

You were once again cut off by his lips that met your cheek in a wet kiss, lasting too long for a public setting.

You hated the way he loved testing your patience.

Moving his soft lips from your cheek to your ear, he sighed before murmuring in an indecently low voice,

“you better get a new music box before jaemin visits me or I know how to make you regret your actions.”

Unmoved, you stared at him with doe eyes. He walked away before returning back only to snatch the paper slip from your hands.

“I’ll pay and sign. Go have lunch. Try to finish early today, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Innocently smiling, he left as if everything that had happened was nothing but delusion. And you hated the way he knew you like the back of his hand. But you were going to make sure he lost this one to you. Once and forever.

[helion-ism]

let’s talk about elucien

there are so many reasons why I love elain x lucien and why I think these two would not only be amazing together, but also why they belong together. one of those reasons is lucien’s sassy personality, which we already got a glimpse of in acotar (and that I miss terribly btw), and which is, in my opinion, exactly what elain needs in her life. we’re talking about lucien “your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold” vanserra. we know he’s got quite a big mouth, that’s how we got to know him, but we also know that mouth is exactly what’s gotten him into trouble before. case in point: the eye incident. lucien doesn’t mince his words and yes, that is one of the reasons why elain really needs to spend some more time with him. 

she has been coddled by not only her father, nesta, feyre, but also the entire inner circle, which has allowed her to live her life passively. yes, she killed the king of hybern, and good for her, but she did it because nobody else could have done it at that point in time. ever since the war ended, elain has not actively contributed to any plot matters, whether by choice or because someone else took the choice from her. azriel said in acosf, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that elain should not be exposed to.” even amren pointed out that elain is capable of defending herself, but for some reason, nobody let her even though elain said she would try to find it: “then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” and yet,  by the end of the book, elain’s been barely in it and has not contributed at all. (I know some people claim there’s certain things already happening in the background, but honestly, I’m not satisfied with that development happening off page, so I can’t wait to finally go on her journey and actually see her do stuff)

this moment is crucial:

does it look like she is happy with the way the others treat her? not really. when nesta snapped at her, elain started laughing. that signals relief to me because nesta, the one who has always tried to protect elain the most (nesta baby Ilysm), is the one who suddenly lost her patience. elain needs somebody like lucien, somebody with a big mouth and sassy attitude, who can coax her out of that paralysis she’s been stuck in, a bit like nesta in this scene. additionally, the banter would be top tier. I want another “if I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” moment, please. god please. (elain blinks. “and where would you like that kiss?” — and lucien just loses his mind.)

another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that lucien has travelled almost everywhere and could introduce elain, who wishes to see more of the world (see: “elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers”), to the different courts and the continent. I refuse to accept that we will not get to learn more about the other courts, for my sake, but also for elain’s sake. I want her to see the spring court at least once. I want her to go and see those tulips she’s dreamt of. I want her and lucien to discover the day court as a new home, which brings me to the next point. 

elain has been craving sunshine for some time now. there’s several quotes that emphasise her connection to sunshine/light, here are a few of my favourites: 

I marveled at it, actually — that those years of poverty hadn‘t stripped away that light from elain.

the suite was filled with sunlight. every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible. as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent.

she had been always so full of light. perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. to fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. and now nothing remained.

what can I get you, elain? — sunshine.

elain doesn’t belong into the night court. feyre has found her family there, with rhys and the inner circle. nesta has found (or should I say accepted) cassian and found gwyn and emerie, her chosen sisters. but elain?

elain is somewhere in the background hiding with the twins and tending to gardens of the citizens of velaris. you can’t tell me that is satisfactory to you. she is currently ignoring her seer abilities, and the members of the inner circle are basically encouraging her to do so. the only time she’s been confronted lately was during that conversation with nesta and her reaction was not exactly what any of us readers would have expected, was it? that tells me there’s much more about her we don’t know yet, and I’m convinced we won’t know until she finally leaves and finds her own people, finds herself again and start dealing with everything that happened to her. elain must leave the night court, i.e. the darkness, behind in order to grow.

the same goes to lucien: he’s not at a place where he can just jump into a relationship or mating bond. he’s got so much stuff going on. lucien was forced to abandon his home and his abusive family, his “father” killed the fae he loved in front of his eyes, his best friend is an abusive pos who never appreciated him anyway, and neither has anyone in the night court. lucien is used because of his connections and because of the mating bond that ties him to elain, whether he wanted it or not. feyre knows he would never turn away from elain unless she explicitly wishes him to, and so she and rhys and the others use that to their advantage. it is smart, of course, but at the same time, they also keep important information about his own life from him that could change many, many things. so he’s spending his time with mortals in the human lands — a place where he as a fae really does not belong. 

lucien being the heir to the day court, well, to me, it feels like sjm is practically screaming it into our face: how could he find a home in the night court, the literal opposite to the day? darkness vs. light. and what about elain “he’d never once in the two years he’d known her found elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … it sucked the life from her” archeron? just looking at the symbolism, not only do the quotes from above indicate that the night court cannot possibly be her home, but also very recent quotes from the latest book. elain is a side character in the night court. and so is lucien. they both need to leave in order to become main characters — and it doesn’t even matter that both are already crucial to the further plot of the series because how can they possibly contribute to it in a place where they are both kept down? 

mor said in acofas: “stay out of it. she’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” and “let him figure out where he wants to be. who he wants to be. the same goes with her.” mor’s power is “truth”, whatever that means. but there you have it. they’re not ready to be with each other yet, and that’s okay. 

[elain and lucien are also connected not only because of the mating bond, but also because of the plot. lucien must know quite a lot about her and her sisters simply because of all the time he spent with their father. the father who made a bargain with koschei. koschei who put a spell on vassa. lucien is therefore tied to both papa archeron as well as koschei and vassa. elain, we know, is a seer, despite her not using her abilities (or is she, and we simply don’t know?). elain is (obviously) connected to her father, but also to koschei and vassa (remember those visions she had).]

now let’s get to the mating bond stuff, and I need to say this loud and clear: elain has always had and will always have one (1) true mate. there’s no such thing as “false mate” or even multiple mates. there has been no indication whatsoever. lucien is the mate the cauldron had given her when she was born. and elain is the mate the cauldron had given him when he was born. even when she was still human, they already belonged together — tied together by strings of fate. absolutely nothing will change this fact. should elain reject the bond, lucien will remain a part of her life/her soul forever. should lucien reject the bond, elain will remain a part of his life/his soul forever.

when she was still human, lucien had already felt a pull between them and tried to save and protect her from hybern. when elain was already fae, when it came to protecting her, azriel clapped cassian’s shoulder and left (is this the true mate they’re all talking about?). it’s unfair to lucien, elain, AND azriel and this comparison alone is enough to disprove this theory.

the thing is, lucien has been nothing but respectful, kind and caring towards elain. when he arrived in velaris in acowar, he could immediately sense what she needed and said, “she needs fresh air” (vs. the response “we’ll judge what she needs”) and “take her to the sea. take her to some garden. but get her out of this house for an hour or two.” (I’m gonna make another post about this because I have a few thoughts on this)

of course, she doesn’t owe him anything, but elain herself doesn’t wish to be treated like a child, she maybe she should start acting like an adult because although she doesn’t owe lucien an apology or explanation, she has to have a conversation with him, like two responsible adults. there is no way feyre or anyone in the inner circle hasn’t told her that she can reject the bond and move on with her life. but just like her powers, this is another thing she chooses to ignore. I’m not blaming her because I know she has to work through her trauma first and heal, but by the end of the series, she has to acknowledge that at least.

in acosf, elain says “I am not a child to be fought over” when they discuss the dread trove. I wonder what she would say about the fact azriel threatens to challenge lucien to the blood duel because of her? based on literally everything we know about lucien, I can say with certainty that he would not physically fight over elain. if she only had a conversation with him and told him to move on and leave her alone, lucien would do just that. he would leave her alone and try to move on as best as he could (which we know is difficult for males). but he would never act as entitled to her as to demand a blood duel and fight to death. it goes against his principles. 

to finish this off, sjm summing up everything I just said:

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aberration (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!! Details of torture, description of injury, blood, murder, discussions of death, alcohol, penetrative sex, hurt/comfort, Javi has one one to deal with big emotions and thats it.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Aberration: a departure from what is normal, usual, or expected, typically an unwelcome one.

<-- Previous Chapter  // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

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Everything had felt off about this raid since the beginning. You had put the feeling down to nerves, it would be the first raid you were involved in that was outside the city limits, four hours outside the city into the jungle. A friend of Javier’s had gone missing a week ago, her ties to the cartels meant her abduction was important. As soon as a call came in mentioning her name and a possible location, Carrillo and Peña were immediately on it despite hesitation from you and Murphy. You never trusted calls from anonymous callers, especially ones calling a group of police into the jungle where nobody could find their bodies were it to go south.

You went along, not wanting to miss out on a trip into the jungle. Three months in the country and you had barely stepped outside the streets of Bogota or Medellin. Summer was coming fast, the humidity once you got under the canopy was immense. With a Kevlar tact vest on top it made for an entirely uncomfortable situation and made everyone more irritable before anything had even gone wrong.

The raid was a complete bust. A trap. If it wasn’t for Carrillo’s forward thinking in bringing twice as many men as usual, you wouldn’t have made it out alive. It was messy, more damage was done than necessary and the gains were pitiful. You didn’t find the girl or anything of interest, just more dead bodies. It was a setup, by the time you drove all the way back into Medellin whatever they had needed you out for would have happened. 

It had taken all day to get out there, for nothing. Exhausted and frustrated, you walked back to the truck. Javier was pissed. You had been so sure she would be here you’d even grabbed some spare clothes from your locker for her so she could wear something clean on the drive back. But she wasn’t here. 

You opened the door and went to climb up when you noticed Javier talking to one of the soldiers. You couldn’t hear what was said over the noise of engines but you quickly realised something was up when Javi began to walk back towards the house you’d just come from. You shut the truck door and jogged to catch up with him.

“Javi! What are you doing?” You called after him, “We’re done here,” Javi didn’t stop walking.

“You’re done. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” He said, a new determination that he hadn’t had before was set in his eyes that only made you more suspicious. He started to walk away from you again.

“Peña! What is going on?” You grabbed his arm and stopped him walking away any further. He glared at you, jaw clenching. He pulled his arm out of your grip harshly and started walking away again. Then it dawned on you. “They found her?”

“Carrillo’s got the asshole who took her. You’re going to get in the truck and go back to the city. This is nothing to do with you,” 

“I’m not done until you are, Peña,” You insisted.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” He spat.

“Learnt from the best,” You smiled sarcastically. He sighed, ran his hands over his face. You waited for an answer, one hand on your hip, impatient.

“You know what? Fuck it! Come with me,” He exclaimed, “You want to see the real shit? Fucking come with me now. Don’t talk, don’t fucking breathe unless your told,”

You gulped down any rebuttal and nodded, shocked by his outburst. He turned around and began walking, you quickly followed behind.

You wished you had just done as you were told. Had listened for once. You had never regretted something so quickly in your life. 

Carrillo had found the missing girl's body in a ditch at the back of the ranch, alongside her panicking murderer. Caught red handed, he had only survived a short chase before being captured. Carrillo and Peña had known the girl for a long time, this was personal. 

He dragged the man inside, hands tied behind his back on a chair. All remaining soldiers had been sent back to the city, as you should have too. Carrillo had done a number on the man before you entered. Welts had grown on his face, blood dripping from his mouth. The man in the chair smirked as you and Pena entered, a gargled chuckle slipping from his lips.

You had to remain calm and collected, like the sight of Carrillo looming behind a bloodied man didn’t send shivers down your spine. You had asked to come after all.

You stood in the corner of the room; arms crossed over your chest trying to look intimidating. Not that you needed to be, the two men did that well enough on their own. Peña stayed with you on the side-lines for a short while, watching Carrillo take the man apart. Peña asked questions, his voice heavy and loud, booming against the walls of the empty house. The man didn’t answer, laughing at them for thinking he would break. Eventually Javier lost all patience and joined Carrillo in torturing the victim. 

You had heard of Carrillo’s more uncivilised methods; you had seen the aftermath left on his clothes before. It was scary to watch but nothing matched the fear Javier instilled in you. You had never seen him so angry, almost unrecognisable as he stalked around the man barking questions at him. He screamed at the man’s insolence until he was red in the face. You were terrified, fear pulsing through you. You were stuck the wall and had to force your eyes away as a resounding crack echoed through the room as a hammer met the man’s hand.

Vengeance spurred the men on to no end. You stood and watched them force information out of the man. Every punch, every cry, every word spat at the man chipped away at you. You had prided yourself on being unshakable. You weren’t scared of anything. But being trapped in a room with two men fully capable and willing to kill you, shook you. Not to mention the horror they were producing in front of your very eyes. 

It was pointless. Entirely gratuitous. The man was incapable of speaking, his jaw broken already. They weren’t going to get anything else from him but they continued until even his sobs of pain were quiet. Tears prick your eyes and you bit your tongue, not daring to make a sound. You looked up for a second and locked eyes with the dying man. Blood covered his face, jaw cracked and hanging loosely in his skin. His body twitched, lying limp against the restraints. It was worse than any horror shows you’d ever seen, but you couldn’t look away either. You knew he’d done terrible things, a trafficker of people and drugs; he’d murdered the men’s friend and yet you found yourself thinking he deserved better than this. 

A gunshot went off suddenly, making you jump and turn away quickly. Blood splattered onto the floor and onto your shoes making you jump out the way. It was over. 

Stepping back into the sunlight your head felt full of cotton. So impossibly loud with thoughts but with no room to breathe. You wanted to scream; let all the horror you had seen out. But you couldn’t. 

Carrillo and Javier rinsed their hands under a tap outside, red tinged water stained the earth below. You scuffed your shoes in the dirt hoping it would hide the blood until you could clean them or throw them out entirely. You kept your distance from them, arms wrapping around your chest to self-comfort. The two men muttered to each other, Javi catching your eye for a second. You couldn’t look at him, averting your eyes you didn’t see the remorse in them.

You should never have seen that. Not so soon. You wondered how often Javier had done that, he didn’t seem phased at all. Nobody did. You felt a little childish for getting upset, for reacting like a normal person, so stayed silent.

Two men came and collected the body from the house, throwing it into the ditch they had found the girl's body. Wild animals would take care of the rest. Once it was done, you cleared out. You silently followed Javier back to the truck. You were hesitant to be alone with him, the savagery of his actions settled in now. You sat in the passenger seat, shaking. You refused to even look at him, keeping your eyes on your lap, picking out the dirt from under your nails to distract yourself.

Javier didn’t know what to say to you. He’d regretted the decision to let you come along almost immediately. He’d shocked himself with his own depravity, Helena had meant a lot to him and Carrillo too. In that room something overtook him, he’d forgotten you were there until the bullet went in the bastard and he came back to reality.

Now you sat next to him, shaking, and trying not to cry. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. He drove for an hour before it became unbearable. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. A stupid question, obviously you weren’t but he didn’t know what else to say. You had asked to come with him, it wasn’t entirely his fault. He couldn’t apologise for what had happened. He just wanted you to talk to him. 

Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to find words. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to show weakness but you couldn’t hold it together any longer.

“You can’t do that Javi! Y-you can’t do that to people!” You cried. Tears spilled as the words tumbled out your mouth and you sobbed, overtaken by emotion. It broke Javier’s heart. “How could you do that?”

Javier sighed heavily and shook his head. He should have expected it would end like this. He had no answer for you. His silence made you quiet again. You turned away from him in your seat, watching the jungle faze out again into green hills and cattle ranches. Frustrated, Javi switched the radio on to fill the silence.

You didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. Four hours of driving stewing over your own thoughts. You wanted nothing more than to go to bed, curl up under the cover and pray that it was all some horrible nightmare, or some premonition. You could wake up, redo the day, and know not to go back there again and relive the horror.

Javier wasn’t sure what to do, this was the first low you’d hit. A big one at that. As if he wasn’t upset already about the brutal death of his friend, guilt was now eating him alive. He shouldn’t have ever allowed you to come, should have left you at base with Steve. You had to be stubborn. You had to be defiant. All day you had been getting on his nerves, the mission went badly and he was so angry your final pestering made him snap. He didn’t have the patience or the foresight, when the intensity of a situation overtook him it was all he cared about. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions beyond revenge for Helena. This was yet another reminder of how badly the job of being your mentor was suited to him.

Finally, he parked the truck in the garage and followed you up to the apartments. Your cheeks were stained with tears, you shuffled inside obviously in your head and upset. Javi wouldn’t let you go just yet. 

“Rookie come and have a drink,” He said, breaking the hours of silence. He unlocked his door and pushed it open with one hand.

“I’m going to bed,” You replied quietly, already walking up the stairs to your apartment.

“It wasn’t a question,” He said firmly. You stopped on the stairs and sighed, not bothering to fight him anymore you turned around and ducked under his arm and into his apartment. 

Javier’s apartment was very similar to yours only bigger. Everything was practically in the same place bar the surprising amount of crap dotted around. You always assumed Javi just didn’t care enough about his living space to keep anything more than he needed. Ten years in Colombia had meant he had collected a lot of random things, there was no real organisation to it at all- bottles on a bar cart with glasses haphazardly stacked higher than was safe, books squashed onto a shelf all covered in dust. There was a small photo of some smiling people, his family you assumed, hung on the wall.

He bought out two beers, passed one to you and offered a seat couch to you. You sat down on the edge; Javier relaxed into the other side. With your mind still spinning, you didn’t want to drink. You awkwardly picked at the paper label, losing yourself in images of brutality playing in your head..

Javi didn’t really know what to do now. He wasn’t one for talking things out; he had hoped you would want to. He knew how he wanted to work it out, how he usually got through moments like this but he couldn’t think about that now. Javi felt it was his duty to help you, but he didn’t know how just yet. He watched you lost in your thoughts, gears visibly turning in your head. Finally, you gave in, collapsing backwards on the leather couch and sighing heavily. 

“I’m sorry Javi, you must be tired of me arguing with you all the time. I didn’t want to see that, you were right not to let me,” You said, finally turning your head to look at him. In the low light of his apartment tear streaks glowed on your skin. “I don’t know what I expected,” you laughed humorlessly. Javi shrugged and sipped the beer in his hand. 

“It gets easier,” 

“That’s horrible,” you replied sadly. 

Javi hadn’t thought much on the subject- it was best not to. He’d become entirely desensitised working down here and hadn’t noticed at all. It seemed like normal. Surely everyone knew what bones sounded like smashed under hammers, everyone knew the gurgle and hum of the last breath as someone choked on their own blood. But they didn’t. 

“I guess so,” He shrugged.

“I’ve never seen someone die before,” You said after a moment of silence. “I’ve shot people but they didn’t die. Or I didn’t see it if they did. It’s a lot less dramatic than I thought. It’s just... over,”

“First time I saw it was back in Texas,” Javi said, “Couldn’t have been much older than you, watched him bleed out on the side of the road,”

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Kid was caught with some weed, ran into the highway and got hit by a semi before we could catch up,” You saw his eyes glaze over for a moment as he remembered before he shook his head and looked up again.

“That’s rough,”

“Like I said, you get used to it,”

You sat quietly drinking together for a few moments, neither you or Javi knew what to say. 

The mixture of anguish and alcohol was not good. You could feel yourself heating up just looking at him. The thought of touching him, losing yourself in him, taking your mind off the tragedy of the day, was intoxicating. If you stayed any longer you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself going for it. You could go upstairs, cry into your pillow and hope your hand would do a good job releasing the pent up energy in you. Javi set his beer down on the floor and turned to you again, eyes wandering obviously over you as you sat opposite. You could feel your self control slipping.

You stood up quickly, Javi watched you curiously. A sudden wave of need overcame him at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night alone. It shocked him. Urgently, he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks before you could announce your departure. You looked down at him, his eyes were wide and shining in the light as if he was trying not to cry. Locking eyes with him you knew what was about to happen, there was no escaping it anymore. In an instant he pulled you sharply down onto the couch and into his lap.

The kiss was desperate and messy. Javi moaned into your mouth, relief flooding his body as you kissed him back. A voice in his head told him to stop, but he couldn’t. Grief, remorse, and lust had taken over entirely. He needed a release, wanted to show just how sorry he was for what he had done. He shouldn’t be kissing you, shouldn’t be pushing your hips onto his, but he wanted to escape.

You needed it just as badly as him. You clung to Javi, grounding yourself in his touch. If he held you, he couldn’t hurt you, couldn’t scare you again. Your hands came to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal warm skin underneath. He helped you, throwing the item away before he pulled your shirt over your head and joined his shirt on the floor. 

You explored the new territory enthusiastically, feeling his strength beneath your hands as you kissed him. You pulled on his hair at the nape of his neck as his tongue explored you mouth making him moan again. He was much more vocal than you expected, each time it made your pussy flutter in anticipation.

Javi kissed you quickly, moving down your jaw to your neck and mouthing over the exposed skin above your bra. He didn’t move to take it off, just enjoying your taste. You bucked your hips sharply into his growing bulge, making him hiss and bite you. You whined, wanting him to do something and stop teasing you. 

“Have you got-?” You asked quickly. There was no need to pretend like you didn’t know what you both wanted now. 

“In the drawer,” He pointed at the side table next to the other couch. Part of you wanted to make a joke about his apartment being covered in condoms but now wasn’t the time. 

You stood up out of his lap and over to the drawer, pulling out a package and throwing it at Javi. He’d taken off his pants in the time you were away. He watched you with hungry eyes, stroking his cock idly watching you. Overcome by need, you shoved your pants off leaving them on the floor before scrambled into his lap again.

He kissed you quickly, chased kisses down your jaw and neck. Your mind wandered, remembering for a moment the blood and screams, the fear Javi had put in you watching him torture that man. The same hands you had watched drip with another man's blood were now groping your ass. You screwed your eyes shut, pushing out the thoughts and slowly sank onto his hard cock. 

Javi sighed, biting his lip to stop himself saying something stupid. You felt amazing around him, warm and wet. All doubt he had before left him entirely, he was consumed by you. He nearly lost his mind entirely at the pathetic noise you made when he shifted you up slightly. All his focus went on you. 

“Lo siento, hermosa,” Javi mumbled as he kissed your neck. You only nodded, whimpering as you circled your hips around. Javi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, cursing your name. You were far too good at that. “Again,” He panted, you complied and drew another moan from his lips.

Neither you nor Javi would last long, but that wasn’t what this was about. It was taken what you needed from each other, affirmation of life and trust. His head rested in your chest, lips kissing your sweaty skin as you ground onto his cock. His hands held you close, heavy on your back as you moved above him. You moved faster now, long strokes of your hips up and down over his cock. Gasping breaths and the slap of skin on skin filled the room as you and Javi lost yourselves in each other.

Your legs began to shake as you neared your high, you gasped his name. Javi shifted under you, getting leverage, and started cantering up into you, his hands holding you still. You moaned loudly as he hit a new spot that had you reeling. Javi settled back against the couch, fucking you harder and watching with delight as you fell apart. 

Your orgasm rolled over you like a tsunami wave. So good you swore your soul left your body. You cried out, pussy fluttering around Javi’s cock pulling him along with you. Javi stopped moving, pulled you close and kissed you hard, moaning into your mouth as he spilled into the condom. You bucked against him, dragging out the lasts of your high.

Finally, you stilled, coming back down to earth again. Resting your forehead on his, you giggled as endorphins took over. Javi smiled, kissed your forehead before you tilted your head to catch his lips again. The kiss was sweet, urgency gone now. He kissed you languidly, fingers brushing over your cheeks. He was calm again, all anger and frustration fizzed out in your shared orgasm.

He lifted you off his cock, you whimpered at the loss. You lay limbless on the couch, watched him pull on his pants before he disappeared into the bathroom. 

You didn’t feel anything, no worry no anger. You were on clouds. You couldn’t find it in you to worry about any of the inevitable consequences of what just happened. 

You redressed while Javi was gone, feeling a little exposed entirely naked except your bra on his couch. You laughed to yourself when you saw where your shirt had ended up, draped over a lampshade. You pulled it on, and were halfway through buttoning it up when the bathroom door opened again.

“You good?” Javi reappeared, a satisfied smile on his face. You nodded.

“Good,” You replied with a smile. “You?” He nodded and settled back on his couch, lighting a cigarette, and taking a drag. 

There was a silent understanding that nothing that had occurred today would ever be spoken about again. It was done. Apart from the bruises Javi had left on your neck, there was nothing left of any of it. You had both needed the stress relief, your trust was back and you could move forward with a clean slate. 

---

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[sweeethinny]

Colors

started with a one shot because I wanted to write about someone fighting with Snape during an Order meeting (because God knows I would)

ended with me writing three moments of a world where jily lives, Sirius and Hestia happen, and it takes place in 1995

TW: the first one shot - BLACK - talks about an anxiety attack, so if you don't want to read about it, just skip to the next color: YELLOW

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Black. {respect, death, isolation, fear, loneliness.}

Sirius felt like he was going to lose his mind, and he probably would.

Memories of a past he tries so hard to forget keep coming back to him at night, preventing him from sleeping, which automatically prevents him from living as a normal human being.

But it's only when Dumbledore forbids him to leave the house for anything - Moody thinks he's too unstable - that Sirius freaks out.

He breaks everything in the attic, absolutely nothing escapes his anger. He rips up stupid family portraits, smashes stupid ceramic cups, burns old newspapers that proudly displayed a picture of the Black family on the cover - a photo he wasn't in. Sirius feels he could blow up that house if it weren't for James, Lily and Harry living there. It's basically what keeps him from ending that stupid legacy that haunts him like a death spell.

He picks up that stupid box of pictures he hid before before everyone arrives - because he's ashamed -, and starts burning them one by one with his wand, hating more than anything to notice there aren't any pictures of him in there. He's been completely erased from the family, and Sirius thinks it's a pain that will never go away.

Watching Regulus's cheerful face burn through photo after photo, enrages him even more. The golden boy, the most perfect of all, while he has his name burned on the wall, and everything that could show that were two brothers before, erased like a single misspelled word in a letter.

He doesn't exist there, only his bedroom remains, which is one of the rooms he avoids the most, although it's the only one left to prove that he once lived there.

He hates that house, he feels like marching to his parents' grave and screaming at them, and screaming at that stupid portrait of his mother until there's no more air in his lungs, because she did that to him. She's turned him into this unstable madman who needs to be chained indoors like a dog while the others work for him.

Before he could do anything else, James intervened.

And at first Sirius hated him to do that, because how could James care so much for someone like him? He wanted to scream and push James from upstairs, wanted him to leave him alone, but suddenly he didn't want any of that anymore. Then Sirius began to shamelessly cry like a child on his best friend's shoulder, sobbing as if someone had hit him.

James didn't say anything, because he was a good friend after all, just stood there, hugging Sirius and hoping that whatever happened to him would pass and he'd calm down.

Sirius felt like crap for not being as good as James.

"I'm here with you," James said, as he would say to Harry or Lily. ''Everything will be fine.''

''No, James, you know it’s not that easy, I... I can't stand being in here anymore, there's a memory wherever I look, I... Dumbledore took everything I had left, I want my freedom back, I want my motorcycle, I want my wife I want my house...'' Later, Sirius would be embarrassed for sounding so weak, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"Hestia will be here in a few days, and… it will all be over as quickly as it started, you'll see, by Christmas you'll be back to your routine."

‘’It's not true, Prongs, you know it's not. We've been in this shit for years now, I feel like I'm going to die any second.”

"You won't, I won't let you," James promises, hugging him even tighter.

Yellow. {light, warmth, relaxation, optimism, joy}

Hestia first entered Grimmauld Place during the night, a storm was falling outside and her body was cold and tense. She just wanted to see him, for Merlin's sake, just make sure he was okay. She made sure not to make so much noise because Lily said in the letter that there was a horrible portrait of Sirius' mother who would scream if you woke her up, and Hestia didn't have the patience for that.

She's had horrible days now that she's had to travel further into the woods—which doesn't help her research at all—and has been prevented from talking to him. Hestia had only spoken to Lily once, and she told her that Sirius was not well, which was nothing new as he had to go back to his parents' house and Hestia knew that it would torment him much more than it already did.

But when she arrived in the kitchen she noticed him there, sitting alone at the table, a half-empty bottle of wine and an empty glass in front of him. Sirius had his back to her, but Hestia didn't need to see him to know he had a serious expression on his face.

"You shouldn't drink this time of night," she said, her voice sounding a lot more worried than she imagined it would.

Sirius jumped up from his chair, wand already in hand, gray eyes bulging as he watched her warily. ‘’Tell me about our first time.’’

Hestia laughed. "Only you to ask me that question," She sighed. ''We were at the Potter's house, Euphemia had made the bed in the guest room for me, so I went to say good night but you started kissing me and when I saw it, I was half naked on your bed, wearing a black lingerie, and you was saying you wouldn't let me out of there ever again… Anything else?''

Sirius didn't answer her, just lowered his wand and walked over to Hestia with a face so worried she almost didn't recognize him, his arms enveloping her in a warm, familiar hug that made her bury her head in his shirt, feeling a little foolish for wanting to cry.

"I've missed you so much," Sirius said, his lips against her hair, damp from the rain and a little oily from days without washing it. “Merlin, I thought I was going crazy.” He denies it. "I went crazy actually."

"Lily told me," Hestia hugged him even tighter, wanting Sirius to understand that she was really there, that he wasn't alone. ''How are you?''

"Absolute shit…" He snorted, pulling away from her enough that Hestia could look at him more cautiously. Sunken eyes and cheeks, big dark circles, long hair, stubble… Her heart aches. “But you're here now, so we're stuck in this shit together. You can't run away from me anymore, Jones.”

''Not at all, Moody forbade me to leave the house after I got back, something about,'' Hestia pauses, remembering the unfriendly conversation they had, and how the auror yelled that ''her out-of-control husband nearly killed them ''. Sirius would probably think it was his fault that she couldn't go out anymore. Which was half true, but then again, Hestia didn't help herself when she lost her temper and yelled at Moody back. "About him and Dumbledore not wanting to take chances with one of us out of the house."

“They think I'm crazy, don't they?” His jaw tensed, his gray eyes seeming to burn. "Well, I'm sorry if I didn't keep quiet when I heard someone talking shit about my godson and calling him a liar."

"You don't help Harry at all if you keep threatening other Aurors."

"I know." He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes steady on hers. There was a faint booze smell to him, but nothing to make her think he was completely drunk. "But you know how I am."

"I know," Hestia placed her hands on his face, making a brief caress of his cheek before leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, but I prefer you without that beard."

"I was thinking of making it look like Dumbledore's." Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes still closed and his lips touching hers.

"Do that, and you'll never see the middle of my legs again."

"Ouch, it's not fair," He looked at her, his gray irises gleaming in amusement as he pouted softly.

"Take it or leave it, Black." Hestia pulled away from him, grabbing her suitcase from the floor. “I need to take a shower.” She arched her eyebrows. 'Will you keep me company?'

“Of course, I hear this house is very haunted, so I'll have to stay with you to protect you from the ghosts.” They walked out of the kitchen, taking slow steps so as not to wake the fucking portrait.

''Thank you so much, I'm terrified of haunting.'' Hestia smiled, letting him lead her to his room - which looked strangely untouched - and then to the bathroom, with Sirius talking non-stop about how he would protect and secure her, so that Hestia didn't have her foot pulled during the night.

“We'll have to sleep cuddled together so that doesn't happen.” He took off his shirt, and Merlin, how she missed him. "And no clothes." Sirius waved his wand at the water to fill the tub, then unzipped his pants and took them off along with his underwear.

''I'm sure yes.''

Red. {passion, lust, war, danger, violence}

It is during a meeting of the Order that Hestia loses her temper.

She was sitting next to Sirius and holding hands with him, as they usually are, talking quietly about everything and nothing while Molly doesn't come down and McGonagall doesn't arrive. Everyone is there, she knows it, and every now and then someone looks at the nearly untouched glass of firewhiskey in front of Sirius, but she doesn't care, she keeps talking to him and making him chuckle softly, saying how indecent her new panties are just because she likes to tease him.

And because things are getting more and more tense.

Living in that house didn't just affect Sirius, but she too, and every now and then Hestia finds herself close to breaking everything in sight, blind with rage that Dumbledore has trapped them there like a lab rat, thinking that if Sirius doesn't explode that house, or that damned picture of his mother, she goes.

Anxiety gnaws at her inside and every day she wakes up thinking that this will be the last, tomorrow they will return to their home, safe and sound, enjoying their freedom again, and Hestia won't have to worry about talking portraits and a elf that pisses her off, no matter how kind she tries to be.

But when Snape speaks - something she's been ignoring since he arrived - she just can't take it anymore.

''Like Black could do anything, being trapped in here.'' He says, in that petulant tone he's been throwing at her, Sirius, James and Lily every meeting, and Hestia's chest burns, finally finding a good target to take out all her anger.

She knew Lily said it was best to ignore him, she tried to do it, but Hestia couldn't do it anymore, not when Dumbledore trapped them there now that they were no longer useful making them almost insane. Driving Sirius insane! How can he trap him in the only house he knows would affect him, in an environment where for years he's been frowned upon and unloved, making him wake up the demons that have long been sleeping.

Sirius was getting sick in there and Dumbledore couldn't care less.

Without saying a word she reached for her wand at her hip, standing up and nearly knocking over the chair behind her, making everyone look at her as she sewed Snape's mouth shut and stopped him from talking any more, eyes getting huge in his face.

"Speak one more time of my husband and I'll kill you, and I'm not even kidding," Hestia said, her voice low and her eyes hard on that coward. ''I've killed a lot of Death Eaters in the last few years, and I would have done it to you in a blink if Dumbledore hadn't convinced himself that you're worth some shit. But I don't believe it, Snape, I know you, you're nothing more than a scared coward who runs when sees the boat sinking, so think twice before talking about my husband, because I can kill you without you even seeing where the spell came from.'' She undid the invisible ropes that they kept his mouth shut, and the man let out an exaggeratedly long breath of air, but Hestia didn't mind.

She sat back down, feeling her heart beat much faster than normal, hot blood rushing through her veins and making her feel feverish.

Sirius smiled, putting his arm over her shoulder and staring at Severus near the other end of the table, his eyes blazing with anger but still looking too scared to speak. Coward.

It didn't take long for the meeting to start, obviously Dumbledore being an idiot every time he needed to talk to her, probably wanting to remind her who was in charge here, like he did at Hogwarts. Well, she hadn't been his student for years now, so she couldn't have cared less about it, honestly.

[startanewdream]

A Figment of Your Imagination

Summary:  After fighting with Lupin in Grimmauld Place, Harry wondered if his father would have approved what he had said to Lupin. Fortunately, James comes to give Remus his piece of mind. Set during Deathly Hallows.

Read on AO3 or below:

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There was a time Remus thought he’d always fear the night the most, especially a full moon night. That was in those dark years, when his friends were dead, and he believed the only one alive was a traitor.

Now, however, when he looks at the sunset, at all those vibrant colours in the horizon, he knows that this is the time of day he fears the most. That hurts the most.

Remus averts his eyes, waiting for the sun to finally set; he prefers the stars, the dark sky, when the colour is safe. He is not proud of himself, but he knows, as Harry’s voice still ringing in his ears doesn’t let him forget, he is a coward.

After a few minutes he looks up, but the sky has not changed. All those vibrant colours are still there, orange and pink and purple and blue and if he closes his eyes he can still remember that last day of their honeymoon, when he and Dora had spent their last peaceful moment together side by side on that cliff in Scotland, watching the sunset, and he thought everything was perfect in that moment. He can still remember the warmth of her body pressed against his, her scent, their happiness, and the way her hair kept changing colours to match the colours of the sky.

But Remus does not close his eyes, fear and shame and longing bursting in his chest. Still, as time passes, the sky does not change.

‘Weird, huh?’, asks a voice besides him and, when he turns, he is surprised to see Harry – shouldn’t he be on Grimmauld Place? It is dangerous for him to be out –

But it’s not really Harry, even though he sounds the same and most of the details are like a carbon-copy. No, the person besides him has hazel eyes, looks slightly older than seventeen-years-old Harry and has a carefreeness that Harry never had – the same one Remus always envied on him, always wanted to duplicate.

‘Ideal conditions for flying, wouldn’t you say?’, James says brightly, ignoring the fact that he has been dead for the last sixteen years.

‘James’, Remus says shortly, and James turns to him with the same easy smile he gave Remus all those years ago, when they first became friends.

‘Remus’, he says, in the same voice.

For a moment Remus pauses, trying to understand what’s happening. Then Remus looks from the sky, still unchanging, to the very corporeal James Potter, who waits with more patience than Remus remembers of him ever having when alive.

‘I am dreaming’, he realizes.

‘Or maybe the madness within is finally becoming apparent’, James suggests grinning.

‘No, I’ve been mad for a while. But you are not really – I mean –‘

‘I am just a figment of your imagination’, James says playfully.

‘I think this is the first time I’ve dreamed of you – of something that is not a memory, at least’.

‘And why is that, now?’

‘I don’t know’.

‘I think you do, Moony’, James says gently, and Remus remembers of him as Head Boy, when he was helping a younger student to find a path to the classroom, how he seemed so mature back then. ‘You were always the clever one’.

Remus disagrees. James and Sirius had been the brightest in their year, best in almost every class, loved by the professors. Remus only studied a lot, trying to prove to himself – and to everyone – that he could be a good student, that he could earn Dumbledore’s trust in him.

Remus had always worked in earning the trust and love people had given him, even though he always felt there was not enough work that he could do to repay the friends he had.

‘You never needed, you know’, James adds. ‘To prove yourself. We were glad to be your friend as much as we were glad that you were our friend. You were worthy, always has been’.

‘You sound like Harry’, Remus says, and now there is a Golden Snitch flying in the air, that James catches easily as his son could. ‘Or maybe he sounds like you’.

‘I think he sounds like Lily’, James ponders. ‘I wasn’t nearly as thoughtful as Harry is’.

‘You would be proud of him’.

‘Oh, I am’, James says, eyes glinting. ‘I think parents are always proud of their son, no matter what’.

It is like a hand suddenly gripes Remus’ heart and he lowers his eyes. They are finally approaching the reason he is dreaming of James Potter and he doesn’t know how to react. Harry’s words ring in his ear more forcefully than before.

‘Her child is better without me’, Remus whispers.

‘Yours’, James scolds him lightly. ‘I am pretty sure it was not an immaculate conception’.

Even through the shame, Remus can’t help but smile.

‘That was what Lily said’, he remembers. ‘When you told us she was having a child’.

‘“It’s our child, James, it wasn’t an immaculate conception”’, James quotes, and there is a warmth on his voice. ‘She liked to remind me of that when Harry was crying in the middle of the night. “It’s your fault too, James”, she would say, but I never really complained. I liked to watch him sleep. It was peaceful’. James pauses, and Remus feels his eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn. ‘Even with everything that happened, I was happy’.

‘No’, Remus interrupts him. ‘It is not the same, our situations are –‘

‘My son was hunted even before he was born’, James countered.

‘But that was not your fault, was it?’

James sighs.

‘I don’t know. When we were locked on Godric’s Hollow, when everything was just too much, I’d thought that maybe I should’ve done things differently. Maybe I should not have fought so hard in the war, not join the Order, not married Lily’.

Remus blinks and turns around to look at James. There is a sad expression on his face that Remus has seen only on a few occasions.

‘No. That would not be you. You were too much honourable and brave –‘

‘I was reckless’, James notes. ‘I admired your self-control sometimes, you know? You were the only one of us that could really think before you did anything’.

‘I admired how you could jump in front of any danger’, Remus says bewilderedly. ‘I was always trying to be just like you and Sirius’.

‘You never needed to be like us. We may have influenced you a bit, give you the final push, but you were brave and bold too’.

‘My worst decisions were of when I was careless’, Remus whispers. ‘Letting you become animagus, not explaining my missions for the Order – that’s why you lost your faith in me, wasn’t it? -, and now, what I’ve done with –‘

‘You should have told us about your missions’, James says, interrupting him. ‘But other than that, every time you let your heart decide, more than any fear, you were happy’.

‘It was dangerous –‘

‘Life is dangerous. But living is the only way we can reach happiness also’. James takes a deep breath and looks at Remus with an expression that is the same as the one Harry had in their last meeting. Disappointment. ‘What are you doing, Remus?’

‘The only thing I can do’, Remus whispers. ‘I am only a risk for them –‘

‘You are at war, everything is unsafe.

‘You cannot understand –‘

‘Can’t I?’, James looks annoyed. ‘Lily was muggleborn, should have I kept her away from Harry?’

‘No, of course not –‘

‘Or maybe I should have joined the Death Eaters?’

‘No, that’s not what –‘

‘All those things would not have helped. The only thing I’d have achieved was giving Harry a reason to be ashamed of me’. James pauses and looks at the Golden Snitch in his hand. ‘I wasn’t a perfect man, but I tried to become the best man I could be. The man who my friends, my wife, my parents, thought I could be. If things were differently, if we had – I mean, I don’t know if I would have been a good father to Harry, but you can be damn sure he would have known he was loved every day’.

‘Harry knows. Your love for him is his Patronus, did you know?’

James smiles for a moment, then sighs.

‘And why are you forbidding your son of knowing this kind of feeling? Doesn’t he deserve your love?’

Remus raises his eyebrows, suddenly angry.

‘Of course he deserves to be loved. That’s why I am –‘

‘That’s why you are leaving your pregnant wife to her own? To bear your child and raise him on her own?’

‘I am thinking in the best for her – for them –‘.

‘No, you are thinking about yourself’, James says quietly. ‘In your guilt – and the worst part is that you feel guilty of being happy, you are scared of feeling loved’. When Remus tries to disagree, James shakes his head. ‘ “Happier than you have been all your life”, that’s how you felt when you found out she was in love with you, wasn’t it?’

‘How do you –‘

James pointed to himself.

‘Figment of your imagination, remember? I know what you know, and I know that you love Tonks.  I know that you were happy with us, Remus, but it was not the same as when you were with Tonks. I understand it. Being a Marauder, our nights of full moon, your friendship, all of this meant the world for me. But my love for Lily, my feelings for her, for the family we were creating – it is different’. He looks over the horizon. ‘I know that you can’t see the sunset ever since you left her because it makes you miss her so much that you don’t think you will survive not going back to her and plead for her to accept you back’.

‘She won’t’, Remus says unhappily. ‘She told me if I left her, I should not get back’.

‘I am not saying it will be easy’, James ponders. ‘But then again, when is life easy?’

‘She doesn’t want me anymore’.

‘I’m not in her mind, so I don’t know what she feels, but this is what I do know: that woman is one of the bravest person I’ve ever seen and she is generous and good and I really believe she loves you truly. But you broke her trust and that’s what you will need to repair, if you decide to. But if things doesn’t turn this way… She would not let you out of the life of your child, but you must decide, Remus. Whether you are in, or you are out, you can’t be in doubt forever’.

‘I –‘, Remus falters, but he knows what he’s been feeling for the last days. ‘I want so much to be in their lives that I – it is so selfish – but I love them, James, I really do. I’ve been in love with Dora for so long now that it feels like I’ve loved her all my life; I don’t remember how it was not being in love with her, not listening to her laugh, not feeling like her smile can lit up any room. And our child – it makes me terrified – how can I love so much someone I’ve never met before –‘

‘It is because you are his father’, James says gently. ‘But your child will never know he is loved by you unless you are there for him, for as long as you can. Dora won’t know also unless you are there to tell her, every day of your life’.

And then James looks at the horizon, giving time for Remus to take a deep breath and to dry his eyes.

‘When did you become so smart?’, he asks, with a brave smile. James laughs.

‘I told you, I am just in your mind. That means you already know all these things I’m telling you’.

‘Some of it was Harry’s advice’.

‘Harry knows how is like to grow up missing your father’. James sighs. ‘He is anxious for arguing with you, you know. Worried if I would approve what he said to you’.

‘He was harsh’, Remus says. ‘But he was right’.

‘Tell him that when you can. And if you remember when you wake up – tell Harry I agree with him. Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless they have to’.

Remus nods.

‘He is the best parts of you and Lily’.

‘He is’, James agrees brightly. ‘Same as Teddy will be of you and Tonks’.

‘Teddy?’

‘Ops’, James looks guilty and rises, just as the sky suddenly changes colours. ‘Our time is up. I think you will be waking up in a few minutes’.

‘Oh’, Remus feels the sadness creeping over him, the same longing he felt on the last sixteen years when he thinks of James Potter. ‘Thank you, Prongs’,

‘Anytime, Moony. It is nice to be the one giving you sense for once’.

Remus smiles, remembering of being accused, a lifetime ago, of being the only reasonable person in their group. As the sun sets, and James starts fading with the light, a thought comes to Remus’ mind suddenly.

‘James – you told me how Harry is feeling. If you are in my mind, just a figment of my imagination, how can you know –‘

The grin in James’ face is the same one he had during their pranks in school, the same one he gave Remus when he first informed him they would become animagus for him.

‘A Marauder never tells, Moony’.

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

If you enjoyed it, I have also another story set in this “Dreamverse” called Chasing Dreams, featuring James and Ginny having a father/daughter-in-law moment :)

[youbloodymadgenius]

A Brighter Sky (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @saldelys First Year Celebration 🎉 Happy anniversary, my friend 💝

Dagveror = literally day meal, one of the two meals Vikings ate a day.

Prompt in bold.

@geekandbooknerd - thank you for beta reading this for me 💞 This is what I would call a successful collaboration 👍🏼

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar, who woke up alone, would like to know where you went. What will he think of your answer?

Warnings: slight fluff ? Canon divergent AND historically inaccurate (Sigurd is alive and Blæja is not and has never been his captive).

Words: 1797

Lost in his thoughts, Ivar sighs, massaging his temples with the heels of his hands. His scowl obvious, he dismisses curtly a thrall offering him ale. 

 Yet, his face brightens as soon as he spots you walking into the Great Hall. "Where have you been?", he shouts, furrowing his brows but grinning anyway as you quickly cross the room, a beaming smile on your face.

 You join him and sit carefully on his lap, kissing him briefly. "Where have you been?" He repeats, more gently this time. "I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. You know I hate this. " He exhales deeply before whispering in your ear. "I felt lonely." He knows he sounds needy, clingy, but he can't help. Waking up with you in his arms is one of his favourite things in the world. But this morning, much to his dismay, you weren't next to him, curled on your side, your head on his chest and your legs tangled with his.

 "Oh, did you miss me, my love?" You coo, stifling a laugh as best you can. You know better than to wound his pride.

 "Of course I did." He answers truthfully, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "So tell me, Y/N, where were you? I couldn't find you at the market place…" He winces, his admission that he went looking for you unintentional. 

 Smiling knowingly but without uttering a word, you pepper light kisses over his jawline, travelling down to the pulse point of his neck. Ivar can't help the faint moan that escapes his lips but recovers quickly, giving you a stern look. "What are you doing, woman?" Placing his hands on your shoulders, he stares at you with a frown. "If you keep trying to divert my attention, I'll come to believe that you're hiding something from me, you know?" 

 "I'm not hiding anything, I promise." You reassure him immediately, giving him a last peck on the cheek before getting up. "I'm going to tell you everything but just give me a moment, I'm starving." Grabbing a chicken leg, you take a hearty bite right away, shrugging as you explain with your mouth full. "Sorry, I haven't had time to eat yet today. " 

 "You could have had dagveror with me if you hadn't disappeared. " Ivar grumbles under his breath, making you laugh. 

 Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "Stop being suspicious, Ivar! I didn't disappear, I went to the docks." Gulping a mouthful of weak ale, you then wipe your mouth with your forearm. 

 "And why is that?", Ivar asks, and you can see the wheels turning in his head as well as the exact moment when he puts two and two together. His face falls, his gaze hardens, and he looks away, his jaw tight. 

 Scrunching his face and clenching his fists, Ivar hisses eventually through gritted teeth. "You wanted to say goodbye to Sigurd." He struggles to control his anger, but you reach out nevertheless without a second thought and cups his face. You know he would never hurt you. 

 "No Ivar, I wanted to make sure he left." You say in a quiet and steady voice, your eyes boring into his blue ones. "And now he's gone. We should celebrate, don't you think?" You add, cracking a smile.

 Ivar frowns obviously confused. "Why would you do that? Why would you want to celebrate his departure? Shouldn't you be sad instead?" He asks dryly, wrapping a hand around your wrist and squeezing it a little too tight. "You like him. He's your friend, after all…" His tone is bitter and the look of suspicion on his face unmistakable.

 "I do like him." You nod, wincing because of his firm grip on your wrist. "But you're the one I love."

 ***

 You had grown up on the outskirts of Kattegat. Your father was a merchant and your mother helped him as best she could while taking care of you and your younger siblings. As a child, you had never crossed paths with any of Ragnar's sons. But when you were around fifteen, your father got sick and that's how you ended up behind the market stall, selling spices and seeds. You quickly caught the eye of Hvitserk, who immediately decided that he wanted to fuck you. One day, you had slapped him because he had touched your breast. In your defence, you didn't know he was a prince. To be honest, you're still not sure it would have made any difference. Hvitserk had been stunned and you had heard mocking laughter. Cheering for you, the other Princes; Ubbe, Sigurd and Ivar were laughing out loud. 

 Long story short, that's how you became friends with all of them. 

 Hvitserk, although a little offended, had eventually forgiven you and since then you had spent a lot of time laughing together and bantering with each other. 

 Ubbe, who was already married to Margrethe, wasn't as funny as his brother, but you still enjoyed the little time you spent with him.

 You had bonded quite quickly with Sigurd, the sweetest and shyest of them all, reunited by your shared love of music, with his oud and your flute in perfect harmony. 

 And then, there was Ivar. You had fallen hard and fast for him, his huge mesmerizing blue eyes, and his stormy temper. He had been guarded and withdrawn at first, but he had opened up to you bit by bit, trusted you and eventually fell in love with you. 

 Your relationship with Ivar is truly a strong one, punctuated of course by numerous outbursts – the blame not entirely on him, you have to say – but above all filled with love and mutual understanding. 

 Of course, being Ivar's lover and Sigurd's friend isn't always easy, given the difficult relationship between the two of them. However, each of them respects you enough to make it go pretty well, and you know without any doubt that you saved Sigurd's life more than once, sometimes literally.

 At the end of the day, though, your heart belongs to Ivar, and he's the one you want to make happy. 

 ***

 Eyebrows up, jaw down, you can tell when the realization hits Ivar. Swallowing, he stares at you in disbelief, slowly releasing your wrist. "You…", crossing his arms, he sputters in a halting voice, his head tilted to one side, "… you did this, didn't you? You're the one who convinced him to marry Blæja. And therefore to move to Northumbria."

 Smiling softly, you nod and shrug simultaneously. "It wasn't that hard. Sigurd just needed a little push, you know. He was already in love with her. All I had to do was reassure him that marrying a Christian wasn't going to send him to Hel. Nothing more."

 Confused, Ivar looks at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. "But why... why did you do that?" His question is genuine, his bewilderment real. 

 Smiling fondly, you gaze at him with a mischievous look on your face. "Did you see the sky today, Ivar?" You ask in a cheerful tone, gesturing towards the slightly ajar hall doors. 

 "I don't want you to change the topic, Y/N!" Pursing his lips, Ivar growls, frustrated and suddenly out of patience. It's nothing new, though, and it takes more to scare you. Your lover being exasperated every time the discussion is related to Sigurd is a common occurrence.

 So, you just take a deep breath. "I'm not changing the topic, Ivar. Trust me, you'll understand what I'm getting at. So please, tell me, how is the sky today?"

 Rolling his eyes, Ivar raises his hands in surrender. He knows that you can be as stubborn as he is. "You won't let it go, will you?" As you shake your head no, he fails to repress a small smile and then pouts playfully, and you can't help but be amazed by his mood swings. Finally, he replies with a sigh. "Bright blue, the sky is bright blue, Y/N."

 "Yes, you're right." You nod enthusiastically in excitement. "And do you know why?"

 Giving you his 'are-you-kidding-me look', Ivar is at first so bemused that he can't answer. Eventually throwing up his hands while shaking his head, he looks at you as if you were a toddler. "Because summer is coming?" His voice dripping with sarcasm gives away how annoyed he is. 

 "Wrong answer, my love!" You burst out laughing but become a bit more serious the moment you see that Ivar, crutch in one hand, is planning to leave.

 Taking two steps forward, you stop him. "No, Ivar, stay. And listen to me." Your begging eyes soften him, and he collapses back into his chair, tilting up his head and raising his eyebrows questioningly.

 "See, my love,…" you carry on immediately, a soft smile on your lips, "Some people are a lot like clouds, you know, 'cause life's so much brighter when they go…  So, I decided to make your life, your sky, brighter, by helping Sigurd make the right decision. All he had to do was listen to his heart, marry Blæja and move to Northumbria. " You explain simply, without taking your eyes off him.

 Completely stunned, Ivar drops his gaze, scratching the back of his neck and keeping quiet for a long time. When he lifts his eyes to you, you can tell they're watery. Your lover is moved.

 "I can't believe you did this for me. " Letting out a shaky sigh, he bites his bottom lip, rubbing his cheek, an obvious frown on concern on his face. " Won't you…", he hesitates, "… miss him?"

 "Of course I will!" You speak the truth and you know that indeed, you will miss Sigurd dearly. You also know it's for the best. "But your peace of mind will be worth it. Your happiness will be worth it. And quite frankly, I'm willing to bet that with you out of the picture, Sigurd's sky will be brighter too. You two weren't meant to get along. It may be sad, but there's nothing we can do about it. And now my love," clapping your hands, you give him a dazzling smile, "Are we going to celebrate?" Leaning forward, you make sure your fingers brush his crotch.

 Hissing, Ivar draws you closer, nibbling on your ear. "What do you have in mind?" He mumbles hoarsely, one hand on your cheeks.

 Laughing, you take his hand to help him up and then hand him his crutch once he’s standing, winking at him. "What do you say we move this to a more private area?" Standing on tiptoes, your lips graze his as you whisper, "And then, I promise, I'll show you, my love…"

🛡⚔️🛡

@saldelys​ @waiting4inspiration​ @lisinfleur​ @honestsycrets​ @gearhead66​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @inforapound​

[cocobutnochanel]

A Dream Too

Genre: angst, drama, romance, flashbacks, exboyfriend!Baekhyun

Main Characters: Byun Baekhyun x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: profanity, mature themes

Summary: Love or career, people always ask. When your ‘successful’ self crosses paths with the love of your life again, you’ll see another woman live your ‘dream’. 

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

'How do you truly move on?'

You ask yourself for the nth time today while waiting for the 20 minutes to pass you by so you can finally go home. Back to that thought, it was really confusing for you. You had no idea if you had moved on or just forgot. Or maybe, those wounds were just buried and no longer to be seen but nonetheless, still there.

"How do you move on?" You ask Dr. Kim who just entered your office, his tiny head peeping from the door's tiny crack. "Before you drift to your throughts again, you have a patient waiting. Your shift ain't over yet." Minseok, your friend since college and now colleague, calls the patient inside.

You sit straighter and clear your throat. A woman your age walks in with a three year old girl in hand.

You smile brightly at the child and her mom. "Hi, doc." The familiar little girl in pigtails waves shyly at you. "Hi, babe." She blushes at your usual nickname for her. This was the third time you have her over and you find her so adorable. She's so shy.

The woman your age hands you the file for them that was forwarded by the nurse. "Sorry to disturb you, doc. Areum is here to see you again." She laughs nervously as her child only bows in shyness. You put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. She's my favorite." You smile at the shy mother too. Probably where the little girl inherited it from.

Scanning the file, the child is said to have fevers. You remember too that three weeks ago, Areum came because of a fever. You take a thermometer to measure the child's temperature. "Kindly face the side, sweetie." You coo at her and she obliges in a second.

You sanitize the tympanic thermometer before putting it in her ear. While it hasn't come back with results, you ask her mother about how the child is. This happens so naturally. It was basically a routine. This was your dream.

"So since when did she have this fever?" You ask Areum's mom who was rubbing her child's back while you hold the thermometer in her ear. "Two days ago. Her immune system is really weak." She sighs sadly, looking at her kid with pitiful eyes.

You take out the beeping thermometer. Your eyes skim over Areum's temp, 39.2°. "How are you feeling then, Reummie?" You ask her while sanitizing the thermometer before putting it back.

You pick up the stethoscope around your neck. "Come here, babe." You say softly to Areum who willingly follows. You listen to her heartbeat and everything was pretty normal. The fever was the only thing bothering the child.

“Is there anything bothering you right now?” You frown a little at the little girl’s tiny grimace. 

"Headaches." She mutters under her breath. You nod at the kid's answer. "Do you have cough? Some other sickness?" You ask her again, a pen in hand to take note of what the child's answer could be.

She shakes her head at your question. "Just fever." Areum's mom smiled sadly when she answered.

"Since you've been getting on and off fevers ever since, we will just assume for now it's because of the weather. It’s been snowing hard, Areum needs to put more clothes on." You advice while jotting down the prescription for Areum after checking her heartbeat.

"Just take what I usually recommend. Also, her vitamins and diet should be more monitored, ma'am. Her water intake too." You say that without looking at her mom but you know she's nodding and listening.

Areum’s mom was exceptionally beautiful. She was an exact opposite of her but you admired her tremendously. You admired her strength and courage. It wasn’t easy to be a housewife and a very hands-on mom like her. God knows you would never do that for someone. 

Speaking of that, you never truly did. Your passion for medicine and science was always greater. Well, you thought so.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you sign at the bottom and hand the paper to Areum's mother. "If she still has fever until the end of the week, bring her back so we can run some tests on her." You say as she nods at everything you say. You hand her the prescription and she happily takes it.

"Thank you so much, doc." She smiles at you gratefully as she stands up. "Let me walk you out." You stand up yourself too and pick up your belongings that were prepared beforehand.

You hold Areum's hand as you three walk out of your office. Passing by the nurses' table, you log yourself out of your shift and finally proceed walking with Areum to the parking lot.

You see her reserved demeanor even grow when people and patients were around. She was an exact opposite of you, you think again. You were independent, confident and hungry for your career ambitions while she bowed a little too low. Women could be insanely different but still, her choice astounded you. It takes a lot of strength to be gentle, you ponder.

"Where are you going after, doc?" Areum's mom inquired when you entered the elevator for the basement parking, stopping you from getting lost further in your thoughts. "Just home." You press Basement 1 with your free hand as Areum held the other.

"There's a boyfriend waiting then?" She asks you with a shy smile, trying to make conversation. "I don't even have time for sleep. I can't imagine having one." You laugh at her question.

Wildly, you wonder back to your earlier thought. Maybe if I didn't become a doctor, I'd be a mother like her too. But I chose my dream.

You snap out of your thoughts and ask her back. "How about you, ma'am?" The elevator pinged and opened. "My husband's just picking us up to go home." She smiles with content as if her husband was everything. You kind of wished you had that too.

Well actually, you had it. But you lost it too.

Before you could part ways with the shy kid and her even shyer mother, a black sedan pulls up in front of you.

A familiar man in a suit gets out, a face you know too well. "Appa!" You smile at Areum who was now running to the dapper man. Despite being sick, Areum was still excited to see her dad. Areum's mom walks over to the driver too and you finally look up.

You lost your breath the moment you recognized his face. It was him. The reason why you had asked such questions to Minseok. His face alone brought you the memory.

(flashback)

You wanted to bang your head against the desk as you skim over the Macleod's Clinical Examination for the nth time today. Nothing was going your way today. Med school was stressing you out, giving you a maximum of 9-hour sleep a week.

You hear some noise from your living room. You decide to take a study break and finally head out of your study. You haven't seen your boyfriend for a week despite living in the same apartment.

Despite his schedule being loose as a freelancer, your med studies were enough to stop the two of you from seeing one another.

You turn the doorknob and see a surprising scene in front of you. "W-What is this?" Your voice broke at the sight of Baekhyun and his luggage. His eyes were red and framed with dark circles. He looked sad and tired.

"I'm moving out." He states the obvious, sitting down on the sofa with a troubled face. "Why?" Your voice cracked again as it sounded so much like desperation and shock.

"You don't even have time for me." He mutters softly, obviously trying to stay calm. You were shocked at what he said. He loved you the most, he supported you the most. How could he not understand that this was your dream? How could he not understand that this isn’t forever? How could he demand so fucking much?

You fall to your knees weakly as tears in your eyes threatened to spill. "It's not your fault. I'm not even forcing you to choose me, Y/N. B-But, I can't live like this. Not anymore." He huffs out as if it was a burden he had carried ever since.

"I know it's not my fault, Baek! Hell, you're making me feel bad for chasing my dream!" You cry in hopelessness. "I'm sorry." He whispers, meters away from you.

Tears have finally made way to your face as internal pain enveloped your being. "It's just that- I can't be with someone who doesn't have time." He tries to say it again as if it's gonna make things better.

"Is it really going to be worth it? Us breaking up over this?" You didn't want to beg but God knows you've spent half your life with this man, dreaming of spending the rest of it with him. Was he really not for you? 7 years just going down the drain because you didn't have enough time?

"Am I not enough, Baekhyun?" You ask once again when he falls silent, his face in his hands. "Am I not a reason enough for you to stay?" You were disgusted at how you were on your knees, begging a man to stay.

His face was filled with sorrow as his eyes avoid meeting yours. You suddenly remember that he was the same boy who loved you unconditionally with endless patience seven years ago.

"Byun Baekhyun, I have loved you ever since I saw you that day when you laughed out loud in front of the class while introducing yourself in fifth grade." You recall an image of the boy you have loved ever since. "Tell me, don't I love you enough?" Your lips were trembling.

"I'm sorry." Baek mutters again, making you cringe at his words. "Stop apologizing, for fuck's sake, Baekhyun! I’m asking you! Am I not fucking enough?" You explode in anger, tears and pain.

"Seven years..." You whisper to the air. It felt like it was just yesterday when you two were in high-school and in love. How did it end like this? How did it end just because of time. How could he not understand? "Don't you want me to reach my dreams?" You ask him again, tears streaming down your face.

He closes his eyes shut as tears started racing down his face too. It was at that moment you realized that you weren't the only one in pain. He was too.

Like how you are breaking right now, he had suffered in silence too. He saw how consumed you were, thinking he was no longer important in your life. He saw how this relationship made it hard for you to concentrate too. He saw how he slowly faded in your ‘dream’.

But still, it broke you knowing that you hurt him this bad. It broke you knowing that the pain was too much, he had to disappear.

Your world crumbled in front of you as he stood there in pain, determined to leave. He was your first love. He was your everything. How could something so beautiful end like this?

"I'm not forcing you to choose me, Y/N." He says painstakingly, sorrow and loneliness in his voice. The aching pain in his heart was now double as he sees you on your knees.

"Will you be happy?" You ask the love of your life as he held his things in his arms. He only nodded with gritted teeth, knowing it’d be hard for him too.

That was it. The sign you needed. You were gonna let him go. You loved him too much, you couldn't imagine letting him suffer even more. You would always wish for his happiness. So you take a deep breath and nod back at him too.

For the last time, he speaks to you. "I'm not forcing you to choose me because I'm holding you back. So reach your dreams, Y/N. Reach it without me, doc." He stands up and finally departing for good, leaving you broken and your questions unanswered.

Today's Byun Baekhyun looked no day older than he did the moment he left the apartment you two shared. The supposed life you two were going to have.

"This is Dr. Y/L/N, she's Areum's doctor." Areum's mom happily links his arm with Baekhyun, snapping you out of your momentary flashback. A soft 'oh' falls from his lips as a lump forms in your throat in silence.

You couldn't breathe. Your world stops like it just did six years ago while you were on your knees and on the floor of the same shared apartment. You weren't over him at all. Moving on meant completely being fine. But despite six years flying out the window since he left, he still had that effect on you. He still left you breathless like he did in fifth grade with his hearty laugh.

"You made it, doc." He gives you the same smile he had way back when he confessed that he had a crush on you in seventh grade. Your lungs constrict at the nickname and you couldn't say a word.

His eyes shone with adoration and love that was once for you. "Yeobo, do you know her? She's a very good doctor." Areum's mother cheered, her daughter nodding in agreement too.

You see him pick Areum up in his arms. Now, the little kid resembled him a lot. It made sense, you know. He was now with a girl who could only see him in the future. He was with a woman who loved him enough to give up on her career. How could you not notice?

"Appa, I'm hungry." Areum murmured against her father's shoulders. Baekhyun rubs his daughter’s back as Areum’s mom places a chaste kiss on her husband’s lips. Tears pooled in your eyes as a familiar pain spreads in your chest. 

"I-I better get going." You stammered, feeling abandoned all over again. You knew you were going to cry if you stayed one more second with them.

He had moved on. He had a family. While you, on the other hand, are still stuck over something that happened years ago.

"Do you know her? Is she okay?" You can hear Areum's mother pry to her husband once again. Husband, your heart ached at that thought.

Before you were out of earshot, you hear Baekhyun's answer to his wife's question that makes you want to run back home and cry. Everything finally made sense. You weren't happy despite reaching your dream. It wasn’t complete. You still pondered over moving on. You still wondered how he was. But right in this moment, you realize it.

"Just an old friend, yeobo." No, Baekhyun, you were my dream too.

[callme--starchild]

I Could Ever Learn How to Love

The 23rd century was something else. With buildings that reached up to the sky, others that were literally in the sky, droids roaming the streets and living among the citizens, and even the flying cars that were expected by those science fiction movies plowed through the clouds.

But in Odin Eidolon's mansion, it seemed that time had stopped. With the man facing a window reaching the ceiling, his gaze was fixed on the Eidolon Garden. Several passers-by were walking, either alone, as a family or as a couple, or simply with a pet keeping them company while police watched the area.

And Odin couldn't help not frowning. So many people that he has seen born, grow and die, simply living their lives without knowing the eye in the sky that saw for the common welfare of the city. Contrary to popular belief, he did not mind that people were ignorant of his presence; he liked to be discreet — unless the situation required otherwise, he either had to deliver a droid or make a donation; he cared for everyone and had no preference for any. And since he was secretly an android with a literal artificial intelligence as conscience, no one had to worry that he was okay.

This is how things should be. He was the millionaire — millennial — businessduck of the XXIII century that saw for the common good even without expecting anything in return. Since the twentieth century, that's how things had been: his old friend ... and he against the world, facing Evronians and putting aside the tirades against the guardian of the city — and the galaxy, he would proudly acclaim — as if they were tiny particles of dust.

But everything had changed since 2188, and now he had an image to maintain: no one could get too close to Odin because it was knowing that he was not what he appeared to be, no one could get close because it was knowing that the great and powerful Odin Eidolon had a gentle side. Nobody could get close because it was to become fond of someone, someone most likely very mortal, someone who would not last forever unlike him–

"Odin" no one, unless they shared the same vestiges of immortality as him, for exactly the same reasons even if that was his best-kept secret "you felt it too, right?"

And of course, as someone who has dealt with time-related issues in a very personal way, it wouldn't take long for Lyla to know what was different about the timeline. And as someone she knew long before Odin Eidolon, he knew that he could trust her. That is why he had specifically asked her to come to her mansion, even if it was with the vague excuse of needing her to deliver a message from him.

Still, he couldn't help but straighten up, rearranging his jacket and securing his expression in the reflection in the window. One of the downsides of being a droid is that, unlike the sphere in which he could modify his appearance, his features were more vivid, and now anyone could see how melancholy or frustrated it made him think of the past just by looking at his face.

"To tell the truth, I doubt that someone 'tinkering' with space-time did not go unnoticed by the best time officer," he commented with a sure smile taking place on his face, a great contrast to the Odin who a few moments ago was thinking about what was once. In his reflection, he saw Lyla's face over his shoulder and the way she smiled even if she did so with a raised eyebrow.

They had never discussed the hypothetical case of Lyla knowing the true identity of Odin, much less after PK's last visit to the XXIII century, and even if they did, something in which his words were kept honest was the esteem he held for the droid and her capabilities.

Not only because it was a creation of his industries, but because after years of adventures with a certain duck with or without the mask, he knew what she was capable of; like a father being proud of his child, strange as the comparison was when neither of them were exactly biological.

"They've already sent a squad to investigate, they'll send a report as soon as they get to the bottom of all this," she commented as she removed her jacket, revealing the dark pinkish suit of herfourth. Her hair was honestly a mess, indicating that she had come in a hurry as soon as she sensed the alteration in the story.

It was one of the few things that would never change no matter how many centuries passed, and while it was not something outlandish or very shocking, as someone who had seen so much since his inception, it would not be a surprise if Odin came to have a preference for simplicity. What would be normal or surprising for someone who has already seen it all, after all?

"Meeting the Time Police, it won't take long." But even if there was sincerity in the words, there was no room for doubt in the way his voice grew distant, finally turning to face the android, being his footsteps all that could be heard on the marble floor as he approached the couch closest to Lyla, whose expression had become more thoughtful, not to mention uncomfortable.

"This is not the first time the flow of time has been altered recently…" she commented, her voice softening as her fingers began to fiddle with one of her loose strands of hair, her free hand combing it as calmly as if it had never been rowdy in the first place "does the Timephoon sound familiar to you?"

It sounds familiar. Why does it ring a bell if he didn't remember being activated when that happened? The truth is that his memory did not recall any data of that event, or find a record that indicated that that event really happened, but he did not think he could say something to Lyla without giving any clue of who he really was.

Confusion must have been evident on his face because Lyla looked distant for a few seconds, her shoulders slumping with an emotion Odin could not describe.

"We are not supposed to disclose the details of our investigations, but there is something that worries me, and you are literally the only non-cop and person of this time that I can trust." Given the uncertainty in the words of the droid, Odin looked up again, arching an eyebrow. A part of him had been stirred when Lyla referred to him as a person, but at least he had the privilege of knowing that Lyla had the same trust in him as he had in her "but based on this, it appears that both incidents occurred in the XXI century."

Paperinik. Hero. Donald. Wow, he hadn't thought of the mere name in a long time, and just doing so awakened old previously buried feelings.

"Fortunately everything went well," Lyla added quickly, sensing Odin's concern; and though it ultimately calmed the businessduck's cravings a bit, he could not be reassured by the idea that he still lived risky alongside his uncle, no matter how capable he was of taking care of himself.

But it couldn't be like that, right? He was a young adult the last time they saw each other as Donald and Uno and he shared his dream of sailing the seas in his own boat or forming his own band, The Three Caballeros, and leaving behind that life of adventure to which he was typecasted to. Odin was aware that more than a century had passed since then, but he still had such information in his cloud; and it was Donald, the most stubborn duck he had ever met — technically the only duck he had ever met; it would make sense for him to be more independent now,

right?

But it was not like that. Even if Donald was technically more dependent on himself, he still stayed under Scrooge's roof, risking his life as if it were a piece of cake for him — which was true, considering what he lived through day to day as a superhero, but his nephews–

The nephews. What would become of them?

"Surely it must be strange to receive this news so suddenly, but you are one of the few who are still present after the departure of PK; I haven't heard from The Raider after his retirement, and I doubt I had the same confidence in him as he does in us" another good point.

"If it weren't for the fact that time travel is still unstable, I'd see a way to go there personally to make sure everything is fine. It is not the first time that such an abrupt change has occurred, much less on two almost consecutive occasions."

But it could not be. Because since the micro-contraption and the change of the Police's department, traveling through time had become a suicide mission. Even Donald Paperinik knew that stabilizing him again was a matter of time and patience.

Knowing which one leftover for one or both was the mystery.

"I bet they'll figure it out," Odin said with an expression so radiant that he left Lyla blinking multiple times, "if there's one thing that characterizes the Time Police, it's that they never give up."

And that was a fact for both of them, and she couldn't help but smile with a tiny bit of determination. Lyla could remember all the misadventures she'd had as a policewoman with Paperinik, usually affected by his clash of ideas with the officers'. But Odin cleared his throat before sitting down on the couch, disturbing the droid's thoughts.

"Maybe," she confirmed, taking a place next to the businessman, entwining her fingers in her lap with a thoughtful expression, humming as her gears worked, "…but I won't be able to do it alone."

As if on cue… which it was basically, Odin looked up, meeting Lyla's questioning eyes. It must have meant a lot to her, or she must be advanced enough that her gaze said what her voice box did not, so vivid that it reminded him of the times when Donald refuted about the humanity in them.

Quite ironic, considering they were anything but human.

"Are you sure? It could be risky" and although he knew it wasn't a possibility, Odin wouldn't know how to explain to PK why Lyla's move was made.

Especially because it meant that he would have to accept it himself, he would have to accept that he once again lost someone whom he held dear and esteem.

And though there was that same hesitation in the droid's eyes, Odin still sensed that determination that characterized her.

"I thought what you liked best is that we didn't give up," she scoffed, though it was clear that she wasn't doing it out of pettiness. Especially since Odin detected that bit of doubt that he rarely saw in the attractive robot. "Also, as much as it pains me to accept it, it's not exactly a fact. I like this time, and I appreciate your company, but I don't belong here..."

Oh yeah. The certainly selfish desire to go home. Donald had explained it to him once, and even now he couldn't quite understand it. And after all that she had been through in both eras — it's not like he knew, it was natural for Lyla to think of that time as her home.

Well, there were already two. Seeing Anxieties wasn't the same with no one complaining about his merely scientific interest in it.

Oh.

"Well, we won't achieve anything by standing idly," he concluded, delighting in Lyla's pleasantly surprised gaze, "we should check first that the micro-contraption..."

Sure, it wouldn't be easy. No one said it was, and the 23rd century did not have all the answers, no matter how surprising technological advances were compared to three centuries ago.

But after meeting PK and facing the way he had changed by being reactivated for the first time deactivated, he knew that he couldn't leave his friend behind when the mere possibility was present.

He could tell that a long time had passed since then. But unlike him, she could go home. with Donald. As much as he wanted someone who shared the same vestiges of immortality as him, it wasn't fair for her to keep her pigeonholed into the 23rd century when she had just expressed that she didn't belong there — otherwise, where would be the freedom of the droids that he had fought so hard for?

Who knows, surely the return of time travel would mean that she could visit him, and they could talk about… who knows, only time could tell.

Poor Odin, he didn't know how wrong he was.

"Family," Donald cleared his throat, his shoulders partially tense before extending both arms to Uno, showing off with years of restrained pride, "this is Uno. Uno, this is my family..."

Before repeating the same gesture, and no one missed the way Uno's expression had softened. How not do it when Donald gave him his million-dollar smile and stars literally shone in his eyes?

It was an expression that he dedicated only to him, when the adrenaline of heroism had already run out and it was only them in the Tower, talking about everything and nothing with Anxieties playing in the background. And he didn't know how much he had missed it. for all these years. Not to mention how clear it was that he was hiding his emotion from them.

Della literally kept her gaze scrutinizing him, analyzing his every move as he stood with some power, a mocking smile crystal clear on his face. If he didn't know better, surely his partner would compare him to that cousin Gladstone of whom he spoke so much with disdain, and the idea was funny and ironic.

Scrooge? He could still recognize him, how could he not when the most obvious change in his appearance, despite the years clearly elapsed, was the color of his coat and spats? Sure, he looked different than in that photo Donald had shown him in that boat of his, and his shoulders were slumped with weariness.

Though it was not the same exhaustion that Old Cape reflected in his posture.

What attracted Uno's sensors most, however, were the new additions to the family, four children whose undivided attention was on him, and it didn't take long for him to identify them with the information his partner had given him.

Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby. Certainly lovely that their names — or nicknames, as he had assured him — rhymed.

"One Ducklair, Donald's old friend." He held out his hand, maintaining a certain formality that it puzzled his friend if his nervous snort said something. It was obvious how much he had improvised with the name. However, even if he didn't put it into words, to him the sailor was like an open book, and he could feel how new it was for both of them him to hear him without a voice modulator.

However, in front of his scanners, he saw nothing but Donald injured, physically or emotionally.

Magic ice.

Comments on his voice.

Feathers.

The fights at school.

Cookie.

All the times Donald came to the tower with fire on his sister and his uncle on the tip of his tongue.

Hospital.

Every night he spent in the tower after a heated argument with Scrooge.

Dry blood and untreated scars.

Tears that shouldn't be there.

In front of him, there were only the people who had caused so much damage to the most important duck for him, be it involuntary or not. And now that he had a more lively body and features, he knew it wouldn't be long until his disgust was evident.

But for now, he would have to keep his guard down. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for his partner, as tempting as it was to tell Scrooge and Della their truths.

After all, it wasn't the first secret he had to hide.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

It will be fun while it lasts.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is A Deathwrold, “The Forest.”

Wrote a little something to start your day off or maybe finish it, who knows. Have a great day everyone :) 

“My family has lived in these mountains for more than three thousand years.”

“How can you be sure of that.”

“Because we have records going back two thousand years and then records of my family's tribe before that. For that reason, no one knows these mountains better than I do, and even then, I still don’t know everything there is to know. Every time I go out in the woods, I feel something new.” Krill glanced over at Sunny. If he could raise an eyebrow he would have.

OF all the places they could go on their weekend, and she had decided to go on a guided hike. This would be just like something Adam would do.

He thought of all the people he wouldn’t have to remind Sunny how dangerous Earth forests were with their trees, and animals, and poisonous plants, and, well, pretty much everything.

“Don’t give me that look, Krill. You know if Adam was here he would take us out to do the same thing, and you needed to quit moping anyway. He’s going to be back soon.”

Krill crossed his arms emphatically, “I am not moping.”

“You are too moping, and it’s honestly kind of pathetic. You get all cranky when Adam isn’t around.”

“That's because I worry about his health and safety.”

“He’s a grown man.”

“He's a man child.”

She sighed and turned back to look at their guide who was staring on in mild amusement. This human had dark tan skin, deep brown eyes and long dark hair pulled back from his face. He wore a green ranger’s uniform, but she knew for a fact he was off duty, “We’re ready.”

He smiled, and motioned them to follow him.

Krill held onto Sunny's shoulder as they followed the human into the woods.

“Aren't we going to take a trail?”

“You don’t need a trail when you have me.”

“I definitely think a trail would-.”

“Is your mind ever still?”

Sunny shoo her head, “No, never, not even a little bit.”

“Well try. I can’t show you anything if you don’t also listen.”

“Now that just makes no sense.”

Sunny huffed  and the ranger sighed, “There is more in these woods to hear that there is to see. The wind leaves the animals.” Then past over soggy earth and into a meadow filled with bright wildflowers. Krill was about to ask another question, but the ranger held up a hand despite not looking at him, “Shhh, just listen, to the silence.”

Krill turned to glower at Sunny, and she smirked at him, but he angrily did as told focusing away from his eyes and towards his ears. He could hear the wind in the trees, the distant chirp of birds, rustling in the underbrush, their feet as it moved over packed earth. In the silence there was also a strange rushing. A sort of white noise that you expect to find at the ocean but comes from deep within the mountains.

He watched their new human friend from the corner of his eye as it led them deeper into the mountains. For all sunny knew this creature was more interested in killing them and eating them.

How did she even know him?

With his usual paranoia, krill continued to watch as the green clad human lead them through patches of shadow, over rocks and through little mountain gullies. He used no trail, but it seemed as if all of his senses were alive, following something into the forest. He used his hands to trace over rough packed dirt  He scanned his eyes through the underbrush and lifted his head eyes closed allowing little gusts of air to sweep hair about his face.

He listened, and occasionally, krill thought he saw the human smelling at the air.

And as they went they were led deeper and deeper into the forest, krill had to admit that there was something peaceful about it, almost surreal, like being removed from one’s own head and being surrounded by the quiet.

A couple of times, he thought he saw the human smiling over his shoulder at him.

They had made it a good hour or two into the woods when they broke into a nearby clearing. Sunny was about to step out with him, but right at the edge of the treeline, she was stopped by the human, who had pulled back into the shadows.

Sunny blinked and looked around. Krill did as well.

The ranger shook his head.

Krill looked over Sunny’s shoulder, but in the clearing, he saw nothing, nothing except for a strangely geometric circle of wildflowers, in the middle of which there was nothing but a barren patch of dirt.

That was strange, there seemed to be nothing growing inside that circle.

“We go around.” he muttered 

“Why?”

“Because, we don’t want to trespass.”

“Trespass on what exactly?” Krill found himself whispering.

“Well, the fey, of course.” The human smiled at him, and he wasn’t entirely sure if the creature was pulling his leg or not.”

“What are the fey?”

The human smiled again slowly motioning him to follow as he led them around the open circle, “The fey or fairies, are a group of mystical creatures known to make mischief. Most of the time if you trespass on their land you forfeit your rights as human, and the laws of the fey world become absolute. If you take anything from a fey, you are immediately required to stay with them for the rest of eternity. There are many rules governing the world of the fey, so it is best just to avoid team.”

Krill snorted, “Ah yes…. fairies .”

“You laugh, but through all these years as a ranger, I have seen things I cannot explain.”

“Like what.”

“Like the time someone went missing in the forest. He was lost on a relatively well traveled hiking trail. We didn’t find him for over six months. The search party was called off after those first few weeks. Six months later I am hiking in an unrelated part of the forest forty miles away n the other side of a mountain, and I find this man’s decomposing corpse hanging from a forty-foot tall tree with impact wounds that looked like he had been dropped from a great height. There were no cliffs in the area, and it appeared as if the man had died three months earlier.”

Rill frowned. The math on that didn’t particularly add up.

“Then a year ago we went looking for a missing child. His parents turned around for five seconds and when they turned back he was gone. I found his body forty feet up a sheer cliff-face stuffed into a crevice five months later. He had been dead only two hours, and was wearing the same clothes he had been lost in.”

Sunny’s eyes widened and Krill snorted. 

He was expected to believe that?

The ranger waved at him, “Say what you will, but the forest is a dangerous and unusual place if you don’t know how to respect her.”

“Would you say you are superstitious then?”

“Very. Look, I can’t explain everything in the world, and I have no desire to do so. I see no harm in giving things the respect they deserve even if, later, it turns out I was wrong” 

The human was not particularly kidding about him being superstitious. More than a few times, he leads them around strange objects or formations. There was at one point, a time when they were heading towards another low gully in the middle of the woods, and all of a sudden their entire party grew very uneasy.

The woods seemed darker to Krill than they had before.

But he shook it off.

Sunny seemed to be behaving similarly.

But the ranger, he looked downright terrified, grabbed the two of them by the arm and pulled them away quick time setting them to a low jog in the opposite direction.

Sunny and Krill stared at him in confusion not entirely sure what to make of it.

“What was that all about.”

The human just shook his head, “We were not welcome?”

“From what.”

“Does it matter. When you are not welcome somewhere, you do not question it.”

“What are you worried about angering the wendigo.”

It was at that moment that Krill was pretty sure he had made a huge mistake, as the human grabbed him and had a hand pressed over his mouth in under a millisecond flat. Even sunny looked shocked, “We do not joke about those ind of things here.”

He let Krill go, and Krill stared on in confusion and mild terror.

“I come from a line of people who believe you can attract things to you based off the kind of energy you put off. Now I don’t know if it’s true or not, but joking about something’s existence is bound to piss it off enough to test its patience.” he took a deep breath and adjusted his shirt, ‘now there are a few other things it could have been. It could have been the den of a  mountain lion, or a bear. It could have been a subliminal sense of danger, an incorrect smell, or the way the rocks looked. Or it could simply have been us all getting paranoid at once, but whatever it is, I would rather be safe than sorry. Now come on, let’s take you back.”

Krill stayed quiet and tried not to joke more about the supernatural things. Apparently humans tended to take that sort of thing seriously. They heard more stories form the strange ranger, about finding people in places they shouldn't be, staircases in strange places, the sudden loss of time.

“There was one point, when I was doing some training out in the field. We were on top of a mountain, and I went off to go to the bathroom. It was so weird, after I was finished, it was like time seemed to slow down. I got starving, and I was looking around in the forest thinking I might be able to find something to eat. I was so hungry. It was all I could think about, and then suddenly I see one of the other rangers, sort of snaps me out of how hungry I was.” He shrugged, “I raise my hand to him and this guy looks terrified, he runs up to me, and he’s going off about where was I and what was I doing, what is going on we have been looking for you Of course, I am super confused and as what he’s on about, and this guy looks at me, and he’s all like you have been missing for three days.” 

Krill and sunny stared at him 

“I know, strange isn’t it. To me it almost seemed like hours. But it was three days and almost twenty miles over to the next mountain ridge. I don’t remember any of it.”

“Sounds like a dissociative fugue.” 

“Maybe, whatever i was it was strange.” Behind them, the sun was just beginning to fall and the undergrowth was heading towards a deep black. They could see the parking lot just ahead of them, and it was at that moment, a blood curling shriek echoed up from the trees at their back.

Sunny leaped nearly a foot.

Krill squealed 

The ranger jumped.

The scream came again.

It sounded like a woman’s voice in absolute gut wrenching agony. Like she was being eviscerated from the inside moving out.

The ranger turned back towards the trees his chin down his eyes up, “Get back to the car, but don’t run.”

“Don’t run! Don’t run.”

“Yes don’t run. It’s a mountain lion.”  he stared hard into the trees, “It is a mountain lion and if you run it will have no other choice than to chase you. They don’t like to attack from the front and running will trigger her hunting instincts. Walk backwards towards the car very slowly and do not take your eyes off the treeline.”

Off to his side, krill heard a sharp metallic snik and watched as Sunny’s spear suddenly appeared in hand.

Of course, she wasn’t worried.

But together they backed towards the truck and got in.

As their headlights turned on, the high beams broke over a body hunched up against the treeline.

Sunny cursed in Drev.

The ranger nodded, “See, mountain lion.”

Krill stared in paralyzed horror at the massive cat as it stalked back into the trees. “Going to have to call that in. She is way to close to the trails for comfort, someone is going to get hurt.”

As they were driving away, Krill glanced back towards he woods, and did a double take as he thought he saw a tall willowy figure standing at the edge of the treeline in almost the same spot as the mountain lion with glittering red eyes, but when he looked again it was gone.

He sat back in his seat eyes straight forward.

He had a greater appreciation for the woods now because, for some reason, on earth nature is connected to something strange an unexplainable, and whatever it is krill was not interested in finding out. 

[sagedgeek]

The Child

Part 4 of The Whispers of Fate (A Rey Djarin fic)

Summary: Rey makes yet another friend. Two, if she counts the new baby. 

Rating: Gen (Platonic)

Word Count: 5.4k

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist ~ Next Chapter

They spend the night in Kuiil’s little home on his farm, and Rey was immediately enraptured. There had been a few known moisture farmers on Jakku, but they were really strict when it came to scrappers trespassing on their land, especially her. So, she’d never got a good look at one up close before, and she has to say it was just as fascinating as she had expected it would be. Maybe even more so.

It was different from knowing scrap; the opposite really. Instead of each little screw and cell worth only a bit of something on its own, the farm and machines functioned together. Each little screw was important, just like on the Razor Crest, and she was eager to learn as much as she could.

She asked Kuiil several questions after Mando wandered off outside to eat the dinner he was offered. She bounced around the small home, quizzing the amused Ugnaught on everything she’d ever wondered, most of which were not even remotely related to moisture farming. Kuiil happily answered each question though without anything more than an amused chuckle and several praises towards her raving curiosity. He was patient and kind, and he treated every question she asked just like the first, explaining with care and with a wealth of wisdom and knowledge that he’d acquired through his many years of living.

Then Mando had to come in and ruin her fun by announcing it was time for bed.

Rey grunted in frustration and shot him a rebellious glare then looked towards her new friend in hopes he would argue on her behalf, but he only shrugged his shoulders and turned away to finish tidying up his kitchen. Despite her best effort to explain that she wasn’t at all tired, she was sent off to bed, tucked in on a comfy cot set up in Kuiil’s storage room. It was much nicer than the floor of the Razor Crest, but not quite as nice as being cuddled up underneath all her blankets.

She fought off sleep as long as she could, trying her very best to hold in her yawns keep awake just to prove to Mando that she wasn’t tired and she didn’t need to go to bed. It was harder than she thought it was going to be, because apparently she was tired after all, and the hushed undertones of Mando and Kuiil talking in the next room served as a quiet hum of reassurance enveloping her in a warm cloak to remind her that she wasn’t alone. It made her smile. Eventually she drifted to sleep to the low whisps of the turbine just outside the hut and the synchronized chirp of the frogs outside. It didn’t take long at all, and she was already lost in a deep slumber by the time Mando came to check on her and adjust her blankets carefully before he went off to rest himself in preparation for the day to come.

The next morning, while they were waiting for Mando to emerge from his quarters, Kuiil gave her a small tour of the farm, pointing out the machines and parts of the farm he’d explained to her the night before during her incessant quiz of questions.

After Mando woke and came from his room, they all three sat at the breakfast table together while she ate the bowl of porridge provided to her. She chattered throughout breakfast, excited about the things to be done that day. After breakfast she darted outside ahead of the other two, aiming right for the blurg pen. She’d been waiting for it all morning after Kuiil told her the plan he and Mando had discussed the night before. It was a completely foreign wealth of excitement she had only felt one other time in her life. That being when Mando promised to show her his ship.

And she was happy to say it was just as exciting as she hoped it would be. She stood on the makeshift rails of the rounded fence as they watched Mando try and fail to stay atop the stubborn blurg. She giggled repeatedly every time he landed on the ground in an ungraceful lump of metal. Once his cape fell over his helmet as he sat in the dirt and even Kuiil chuckled under his breath at the frustrated Mandalorian. She asked if she could try once, but Mando said it was too dangerous and Kuill agreed with him. She, of course, didn’t agree at all considering she’d climbed on top of that same blurg just yesterday in her effort to save Mando, but she didn’t dare argue and test the man’s patience today. She didn’t want him getting upset with her again and perhaps leaving her behind with Kuiil this time… he was nice and all, but it seemed kind of pointless to escape one desert planet to end up stranded on another, and this time without any hope of being reunited with her parents. So, she passively sat by the fence, chin resting atop her hand, and continued to watch.

Her patience paid off too! When Mando did eventually tame the blurg after much trial and error, he trotted it around in a circle in the small pasture a while. Then he looked up at Rey, and he must have seen the crestfallen look on her face because he lifted a heavy hand to wave her into the pen. She vaulted over the wood she was perched on and ran towards him with an eager smile, and he hoisted her up onto the blurg in front of him. He even let her hold the reins and guide the fish faced monster around the large circle. It was so fun!

Afterwards, things progressed rather quickly. Kuiil had Rey help him saddle up the newly tamed blurg while Mando went to fetch his rifle he left inside, and then they were off.

Rey rode with Mando, squished between him and the bar at the front of the saddle. He let her hold onto the reins to offer her the small illusion of control, but he was sure to hold on loosely with one hand as well, keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist so she didn’t end up flying off during the very bouncy ride. She was small, and even with Mando’s arm keeping her in the saddle, she felt like she could very well take a tumble right off the blurg with every downstep of the large, ungraceful creature. She didn’t know how Kuiil was able to stay on like he was.

It was a long ride, and after the first hour passed, she’d grown tired of the repetitive journey, slumping back against Mando and letting him take the reins from her. She swears she saw that exact same rock formation an hour ago…

Then they stopped.

“That is where you’ll find your quarry,” Kuiil announced, pointing at a small outpost beyond the rocks. Rey strains her eyes to get a good look as Mando and Kuiil begin to converse, but she’s a tad too short to see over the rocks.  

Kuiil mentions the turmoil plagued on his land because of that outpost down there and she turns to avert her interest, looking back and forth between her Mando and Kuiil, paying rapt attention to their discussion.

“—Then why do you help?” Mando asked him.

Kuiil looks at her that time before glancing up at Mando. “I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only heard the stories.” Rey cranes her head backwards to look at Mando, and then turns back to Kuill with wide eyes as he begins to speak again. “If they are true, you two will make quick work of it. And then there will again be peace.” Kuiil begins to turn away with his blurg, but Mando holds a hand up to stop him quickly.

“Wait,” he insists, “I have one more favor to ask you.”

Kuiil turns a questioning gaze onto him.

“Take her back to your farm until I return for her.” He nods down at Rey, who squawks indignantly by the prospect of being left behind yet again.

“No,” she replies fervently. “You said you wouldn’t leave me behind. You shook on it!”

Mando slowly dismounts the blurg and looks at her straight on and she could feel the burn of his gaze even through the black visor of his helmet. “I said I would not leave you behind on the Crest. I will return for you as quick as possible.”

Rey scrambles, trying to dismount the blurg before he had a chance to stop her, because she was not going to let Mando do this to her again. But he’s too quick for her and he pushes her back onto the creature, placing his hand on her leg to keep her from trying again. “I am not leaving you behind. I am keeping you safe.”

She turns to Kuiil for help, but he’s only looking on passively as an innocent bystander. “But-but Kuiil says everyone dies who goes in there. You’re going to need help!”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want you coming. If something happens to me, you’ll be safe with Kuiil.” He turns to Kuiil then, grabbing the reins of the blurg she still sits on and handing them over to the Ugnaught.

“No!” Rey exclaims again. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” Mando gripes firmly, “You’re not.”

She glares at him, desperate to express her anger for the situation, but unsure how to properly execute. What more can she do?

“You behave,” he points his gloved finger at her, “I’ll be back soon enough. It won’t be long.” He pats her knee gently as reassurance and Rey feels the sting behind her eyes returning yet again. And she doesn’t dare open her mouth in fear it’ll break the supports holding her composure together. So, instead she holds out her hand to him to shake, using her other to wipe away the moisture from her eyes before the tears could fall.

“Promise?” She squeaks.

He grabs her hand gently, holding it tight in his larger one as he slowly shakes their joined hands to finalize his promise. “I promise I will do my best.”

He lets go and steps away, as hers falls limply to the side while she watches him turn his back to her and approach the overhang. Her blurg lurches forward to follow Kuiil’s and she grapples for purchase on the large saddle, keeping her eye on Mando the entire time in hopes he would suddenly turn around and declare a change of heart.

“Come little one. Your father has much work to do.” Kuiil turns to wave at Mando who had finally turned back around to watch them leave. “Fair well Mandalorian. Your child will be in safe hands. I have spoken.”

Rey mopes while they rode back to Kuiil’s farm, and the Ugnaught was not ignorant of the fact. She held tightly to the saddle so she didn’t fall off because this time Mando wasn’t there to keep her safe and steady.

“Your father will be fine little one. There’s no need to worry.”

“He’s not my father,” Rey sniffles, swiping at her nose. Kuiil gives her an odd look.

“Then who is he?”

And Rey herself didn’t quite know the answer to that one and she had to pause, scrunching her nose in thought while she contemplated their odd predicament.

“I-I don’t know really… I’m his Foundling. That’s all I know.”

“So, he is as your father,” Kuiil discerns.

“No,” Rey argues petulantly, “my Mama and Papa left me behind on Jakku when I was little. And I know my Papa wasn’t a Mandalorian.”

Kuiil makes an amused sound. “That is not what I meant, little one.” She looks at Kuiil and raises a brow in question. “How long have you been with your Mandalorian?”

Rey shrugs. “Not long. Just a few days.”

“Hmm,” Kuiil hums, “So I suppose that means you haven’t learned of their creed. Why do you think he took you in?”

Rey shrugs again, this time with a small grunt. “I don’t know! When I asked him, he just said ‘This is the Way’ and walked away!”

“From what I’ve witnessed of him, that seems very in character for your Mandalorian,” Kuiil jokes with her, casting her an amused smile which makes her giggle in return. “But by that creed they follow, a Mandalorian could not leave an abandoned child behind.”

Rey frowns. “But I’m not abandoned! My parents were going to come back for me one day! They promised they would!”

Something sad crossed Kuiil’s face and he turned away from her. “There are different forms of abandonment, child… and your Mandalorian saw you, wherever it was you came from, and saw that you were in need of a home. Will you deny that?”

Rey frowns and pulls her arms across her chest, nearly falling off the blurg as it leapt over a crack in the rocks.

“Now it is up to him to care for you just as a father would. It is the way they follow.”

Rey looks up to stare at him. “How do you know so much about the Mandalorians?”

Kuiil doesn’t look at her this time as he speaks. “I was sold as an Imperial slave. Several of my companions had come across captured Mandalorian’s in the time when their homeworld was destroyed by the Empire. I had many years to listen to the varying stories relating back to the Mandalorians and their ways of living. Their people are rare now, and they are known to be some of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy. That is the only way their kind has survived.”

“What happened to the ones caught by the Empire?” Rey had only heard stories about the Empire. When she heard it had fallen, all she remembers is a loud celebration near Niima. All she knows is the Empire was bad, and they did bad things, and the stories she had heard were bad enough to give her nightmares for days.

“They died when they refused to betray their brothers and sisters. As did most who were captured by the Empire.”

Rey frowns and she slumps her shoulders while rocking side to side to the sharp rhythm of the blurgs steps. Another bad thing the Empire did… It was so sad to think about.

“And after all these years of waiting,” Kuiil begins with a small smile, “I finally met a Mandalorian for myself. And he did not disappoint.”

***

Rey struggled to sleep that night, her rest plagued with nightmares from the day her parents left her behind in the hands of Unkar Plutt himself, intermixed with her awoken fears of the Empire. Flashes of blood red light flickering the horizon surrounding the silhouette of her parents as their bodies slowly dispersed into an ashy wind fading into the mountainous landscape. Darkness… black… and then Mando surrounded by the dark aura which she knew he couldn’t see. A danger to him that only she could witness, but her mouth unable to open to warn and plead with him to run away. And soon red plunged from the darkness, pulling him from the ground and lifting him into the sky where he too became nothing more than ash billowing into the dark atmosphere… more darkness, more red, and more ash. She awoke in tears, cradling her knees close to her chest as she sat up in the small cot she slept in the night before.

It was still dark when she rose, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was not dark like in her dream, she couldn’t feel it, and now the stars acted as a source of light in the dark sky, and she loved the stars. So, she wandered outside the house and sat up against the tall tower just outside the door, looking out in the direction they had went the day earlier on blurg, watching for the now familiar glint of beskar to break out across the horizon.

There was none.

The sun eventually rises, and she hadn’t moved, eyes now dry like they had been on Jakku. She hears Kuiil exit the hut, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

“There you are. Come,” he waves his arm for her to follow him inside, “it is time to eat.”

She follows. She tries eating as much as she could only to prevent the familiar pangs of hunger, but now her stomach was in knots. She could barely choke down the watery milk, all she felt was sick.

“Are you alright?” Kuiil questions her when she was barely able to finish her porridge.

She nods slowly, one hand braced on her stomach. She was afraid to open her mouth.

“When you are finished come outside, I have chores that will keep you busy.” He moves to place his dishes on a countertop beside the cooling chamber. “I have spoken.” And with that he leaves the hut.

Rey finds her way outside after her stomach calms down and she places her dishes beside the others, and Kuiil is true to his word. He had plenty of work for her to do. She started the day by caring for the blurgs which she had quickly grown an attachment to despite them trying to kill her and Mando upon their arrival. She petted them as they ate, and she refilled their water trough. Kuiil had a garden of edible plants as well, which he instructed her to go through and check for ripened fruits or vegetables. It was fun work, and afterwards he had let her have a taste of whichever ones she wanted to for lunch. Her favorites were deep orange, they were so sweet and juicy it had startled her! She had never tasted anything so sweet in her life; she didn’t even know things could be so full of taste. Kuiil must have enjoyed watching her enjoy the fruit because he offered her as many as her tiny tummy could eat.

Then she’d saddled up the blurg like Kuiil had taught her, and rode them around the small pasture for exercise. She was so busy, she almost forgot about Mando being gone! But then she unsaddled the last blurg, and wondered if there was anything for her to do next. She looked out at the empty landscape of sand and mountains, and it was like an immediate switch had been flipped…

She frowned, and sat on the ground, slumping sadly against one of the fence posts.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set that she began to really worry. Mando should’ve been back by now! It’d already been more than an entire day since she and Kuiil dropped him off. What if he died in there like all the others had?

Just as she began to contemplate running out into the desert to go and find him herself, Kuiil called out to her. “Little one! I need your assistance.” She followed his voice back to the front of the house, making sure to glance every which way into the desert just in case Mando appeared.

He stood at the top of the tall vapor spire she had been leaning against that morning.

“I will talk you through checking the cistern.” Kuill calls down to her. “I must remain up here to adjust the chilling bars.”

She listens and goes through the motions of checking the cistern and reporting back what she saw on the display to Kuiil. They were at this for a while, the sun almost having fully set. She tells herself that if Mando doesn’t return tonight… then that’s that and she’ll have to accept it. It made her sad to think, but she had to be strong!

At least this time around she had a friend. And a fun job that didn’t involve scrounging the hilly dunes of a barren desert and fighting off fellow scrappers just to earn half a portion.

“I believe someone is here for you.” Kuiil muttered from the top of the tower, still fully concentrated on his work. Rey tweaks a brow as she looked up at him, then looks to the side, off into the desert to find who he was speaking of.

A familiar silhouette breached the horizon, his new shoulder pauldron glinting in the little remaining sunlight, and an odd cylindrical case following at his side. Rey takes off at a sprint, relieved tears springing from her eyes which sting against the dry air as she runs.

She was so happy he wasn’t dead!

When she launches herself at him, she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, pressing her face against the soft padding just beneath his cuirass, and she squeezes him with all the strength she could muster.

He halts in his step, remaining stiff and awkward as she hugged him, never making move to reciprocate the affection other than the odd pat on her shoulder. All too soon she realizes what it was she was doing, and she jumps away from him in a flurry of panic. “Sorry-sorry-sorry,” she whispered repeatedly, terrified she had hurt him or upset him in some way.

She sees skin… skin surrounding a recently cauterized wound. The fabric of his sleeve had been ripped and she gasped as she grabbed his arm to tug him down and examine the wound. “You got hurt!”

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he affirms her with a tired sigh, quickly curtailing any further inquiries or panic regarding the small injury. He tugs his arm out of her grip and places that hand on her shoulder to turn her around and urge her back towards Kuiil’s camp. She was barely able to catch a glimpse at the closed pram and prepare a question when Kuiil himself spoke up, sounding somber.

“I thought you were dead.” He turns to look down at them, a frown prominent on his face, and Mando drops his head with a sigh. Turns out there was quite a bit of explaining to do.

***

Rey was instantly fascinated by the young creature in the pram. As soon as Mando opened it and placed the tiny thing on the ground to stretch its little legs, Rey was right at its side to examine him. Mando worked on fixing his vambrace, and she follows the child around, watching aptly as it chased after a small frog hopping along the ground. She could sense Mando watching them, but she didn’t bother to look his way.

There was something odd about the child, a weird but comforting aura she could feel emanating from him and which gave her funny little tingles in her tummy.

She listens with mild interest as Kuiil and Mando discuss the Jawas and what had happened at the ship when Mando went to fetch it in order to come pick her up, she was much more interested in the baby who had seemed to just now notice her. He coos at her, reaching out a hand as if to wave with a wide baby-ish smile then turns back to chasing after the frog.

Rey laughs outright when he catches it, barely able to grasp it in his tiny little claws, and stuffs it right into his mouth. She cringes with an amused chant of ‘ew’ as she squeezed one eye shut at the sight of the child trying to eat the poor frog.

“Hey!” Mando scolds. “Spit that out.”

The child doesn’t listen and swallows it whole, and Rey giggles excitedly, especially when the baby has the audacity to gurgle innocently up at Mando as if he’d done nothing wrong. Rey has a feeling they’ll end up having a lot of fun together. She assumes this must be another Foundling��� he was a child after all. So hopefully Mando would let him stick around.

“Child,” Kuiil calls for her. “Go saddle a blurg. We shall leave soon.”

And that they do. They travel through the night to reach the Jawas.

It rained too! She’d never been in rain before and it soaked right through her clothes almost instantly, but she didn’t care. She sat in the back of the drag sled, arms outstretched and mouth open as she caught the small water droplets in her mouth. It was like taking a cold shower in the fresher!

The rain eventually dissipated and she was able to sleep a bit despite the bumpy ride. Come morning the child joins her on the back of the trailer where they play with a few rocks together, sliding them back and forth across the metal floor. They laugh and squeal, especially when things start to get a bit rambunctious, and Rey ends up nearly tumbling right out of the sled to get away from the child in the midst of a spontaneous game of tag. Thankfully Mando was there to grab her around the collar and haul her back onto the vessel before she could face plant into the dirt.

“Calm down,” He snaps from his mount at the front.

“Sorry,” Rey replies meekly, shoulders pulling up to her ears in a shy manner.

The baby taps her leg, hitting it repeatedly with an eager giggle, staring up at her with his big eyes and a wide smile. “Maybe we should go back to playing rocks.” She suggests softly, sitting back down on the metal floor, hoping that if she emitted a calm aura the baby would follow her lead and calm as well.

It seemed to work, and they pass the rest of the ride playing silently in the back. Rey could still feel the slight tingle emanating from the baby ever so often. It tickled and made her teeth itch, but there wasn’t much she could do to fix it. Nor much she wanted to do to fix it, it was like a magnet almost, dare she say an addicting feeling.

Neither of them really looked up from the little game they were playing until Mando slowly leaned down to grab his rifle without moving his gaze from the towering metal box coming into view. She’d never encountered the Jawa sandcrawler in person! She’d read about it once on a datapad she’d swiped, but wow! It was so much bigger in person.

Rey scrambles to her feet, standing up behind Mando as she stared up at the large ship, then down at the hooded Jawas. She’d never seen so many all at once before!

“They really don’t like you for some reason,” Kuiil states in response to the Jawa’s passionate chattering and aimed blasters.

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them,” Mando mumbled.

Rey grabbed at the folds of his cape around his shoulders. “You did?” She whispered in awe. “How’d you do that?”

Instead of answering her, Mando looked up and she followed his gaze to see even more Jawas beginning to peak out from the ship. Rey huddled back a bit, hiding behind Mando’s larger frame.

“You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian,” Mando grunted, “weapons are a part of my reliegion.”

The blurg came to a stop beside the large sandcrawler, and Din sighed as he moved to set the blaster down. That’s when Rey saw it… lying there on one of the large tarps spread out on the ground.

It was her helmet! The one she had left back on Mando’s ship!

“Hey!” She shouted, face heating with anger as she jumped down form the drag sled with her staff in hand. Mando grabs the back of her clothes, halting her angry approach with so much ease it only angered her more.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He scolded.

She fought against his grip, tossing her arms and twisting every way to try and break from his hold, but she only ends up caught in the fabric of her own tunic. He yanks her back, even further from her most prized possession, then steps in front of her which effectively blocks her view of it completely. She’s too worked up to see the blasters several Jawas had pointed at her head, and Kuiil trying to calm them down with placating gestures.

“Let go of me,” Rey shouts at him, now kicking her legs when Mando lifts her up to place her back on the trailer. The angry tears run rampant down her cheeks. That helmet was one of her most prized possessions… the only thing she had to remind her of her parents, and the Jawas stole it from her.

“What is it?” Mando reiterates with an irritated snap in his tone.

He finally releases her when she gives up the fight and falls back on her rump beside the child with a defeated frown. Then she points out towards the far tarp behind the huddle of Jawas. Mando looks to where she’s pointing. It gives him a few moments, but he pieces it together and gives her knee a firm pat. “Give me one moment.”

Rey wipes her eyes along the sleeve of her shirt as Mando pulls away and begins his approach.

The Jawas begin pitching yet another fit and Kuiil stops Mando again, gesturing to his side. “Your blaster.” And Rey can see Mando pause in frustration before pulling out the blaster from its holster and dropping it onto the floor of the sled with a careless thump.

He turns and points his finger at Rey sternly then nods at the blaster. “Don’t touch.”

Then he approaches. He looked much more stiff than before, and most definitely angry.

He and Kuiil eventually sit down across from the Jawas, but they were too far away for Rey to hear any of the negotiations. She sat on her knees, hands braced against the sides of the tow so she can lean forward and strain to hear the conversation.

She takes it wasn’t going well when Mando tries lighting them on fire. Which… awesome… by the way.

And when a few Jawas creeped up on her and the baby, she frowned, nostrils flaring in anger at their audacity to approach when they’d stolen from her. She reached behind her for her staff just in case they tried to hurt the baby or anything else she might find distasteful. They spoke a few words she couldn’t understand, and she lifted her staff threateningly just in time to hear Mando’s angry roar at them to get away.

They quickly scuttled away from the sled, but Rey pulled the baby onto her lap and held the staff tightly in her hands just in case. The baby only cooed at her and played with the fabric of her vest.

It didn’t take long before the Jawas seemed happy with some sort of decision and began their loud chanting.

Soon they all quiet and start packing up their things to bring back into their ship. Rey’s heart leaps into her throat as one of them reaches for the helmet. But Mando stands and calls out to them, pointing at her helmet in the tiny Jawa’s hands.

It was a quick fold. She doesn’t know what he said, but they eagerly ran up to hand the helmet over to him. Kuiil stares at the helmet with an odd look, but Mando doesn’t speak to rectify his confusion as he turns to approach her and the child still waiting at the sled.

Rey grins up at him in relief. And when he’s close enough he places the oversized helmet onto her head and gives it a small pat. She places each hand on either side to secure it in place for a moment then throws her arms around the Mandalorian in thanks. She wasn’t so scared to upset him this time, especially when he was much quicker to return her affection with that awkward, yet familiar, pat on the back.

Then he lifts her off the sled and onto the ground, then turns to the child to transfer him to the pram. “We’re going with the Jawas. Stick close to me.”

She obeyed, grabbing the fringe of his cape and following him towards the large box on wheels.

~ Next Chapter ~

A/N: Let me know what you think! I’m also open to starting a tag list if anyone is interested so let me know XD

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 7 ~The Holiday Feeling~

Picture Source

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Christmas Treats ...

After Annalise had left for a night out of bowling and dinner with Willie, she'd put on her new pyjamas, a long coat so no one in the street would notice what she was wearing underneath when she walked to Jamie's cottage and a pair of Ugg boots. All the while, her stomach did a mad flip-flopped, and she continually found herself staring into space, almost tripping on the way to Jamie's house.

Obviously, she hadn't finished staring into space because when Jamie opened the door after she'd knocked, sending her hurtling back to the present, she was speechless. Rollo dashed out of the house and circled her happily, jumping on her.

Jamie grinned and opened the door wider. "Sassenach! Get in here! We have a guest."

"Oh!?"  I thought we're alone.

She pulled the coat tighter and patted Rollo's head. She remembered Annalise's word not to brace herself too hard, took a deep breath, relaxed and stepped into Jamie's house.

What she saw next, took her by surprise.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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 "Oh, it's alive. I thought it's a toy. What's that?" Claire asked as she stepped into the cottage and saw movement in the shoebox on the floor. Rollo flopped himself down beside it like he was the keeper and protector. "Is this the guest you're talking about?"

"One of them." Grinning, Jamie shut the door and followed her gaze. "Can't ye tell what's in the box? Harry found the poor wee thing mewling under the bushes in the park. It cannae be more than a week old. Probably wandered away from the litter and got lost. It's good Harry found her when he did. I dinnae think it would have survived tonight in this cold."

"It's a kitten!" Placing the paper bags she had on the rug, she got on her knees, picked up the ball of grey fur and held it against her chest. Half of its body was cocooned into a red child's sock, and its tiny head had a comical covering. "Goodness, it's even got a hat with earholes. I've never seen anything like this." 

Jamie beamed. "Not my doing. Harry brought it all bundled up like that already."

"Who's Harry? Another sibling?" she asked, nuzzling her face into the tiny furry body before carefully depositing it back into the shoebox.

Ach, Harry! He was here a minute ago. "No. A mate. He's here somewhere. I invited him to stay for dinner. Give me a sec." He'd been distracted by Claire's arrival, he'd forgotten all about his unexpected visitor.

Jamie left Claire in the living area and went to look for his friend. When he felt a draft of cold air, he went into the kitchen thinking Harry probably went to have a peek at his back garden. 

He poked his head out the back door. "Harry!" he called out. There was no answer. Where the bloody hell has he disappeared to?

All throughout the day he'd been looking forward to tonight after he'd spent the afternoon putting up a Christmas tree he'd bought at a tree farm and decorating it with ornaments belonging to his grandmother from his mother's side. And of all days, Harry had to drop by. Not that Jamie wasn't glad to see him, but the timing was terrible as spending some alone time with Claire was on top of his agenda. Nevertheless, he'd invited the Englishman to stay for dinner. But where the hell is he?

He scoured the yard, but he couldn't find Harry. Suddenly feeling the cold, he slipped back into the kitchen to check the pot roast. It was already ready after he'd left it in a slow cooker to cook all day.

Earlier this morning, after he'd dropped by at Claire's B&B cottage and kissed her, it had been a mammoth task to leaving her side, so he'd kept himself busy all day to make time go by faster. It was becoming apparent spending time away from her was starting to feel like the tension on a bungee cord. The longer the time they spent apart, the greater the urge to see her. And the line felt like it was getting shorter, like his threshold for not being with her was diminishing. If Harry was joining them for dinner, he hoped he wouldn't stay too long after dessert.

"Jamie?"

He glanced up to find Claire holding up a bottle of red wine.

"I splurged a bit. I hope this bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon will go with whatever you're cooking?"

Perfect! Putting the teatowel down, he grinned and approached her.

"It's a classic," he said, taking the bottle from her hand and putting it on the counter. He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm sorry Sassenach, I havenae given ye a proper greeting."

She smiled against his mouth. "Where's your friend?" she asked when he was done kissing her.

He pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "God knows! He probably left. Harry does that all the time. I've invited him to Lallybroch for tea countless of times, but he’s always refused. I guess he's just not a people person." Jamie decided not to worry about it. "Hungry?"

"Very." She glanced past his shoulder. "What are we having?"

"Pot roast."

"Hmmm, nice. Smells heavenly. Need help?"

"No, I have everything under control. Want something to drink?" Jamie asked, taking out wine glasses, plates and cutleries.

"Not just yet. I had a cuppa before I left the cottage." She smiled at him. "I love your home, especially that fireplace. Is it original?"

He checked the roasted root vegetables in the oven for doneness and shoved them back in again. "Aye, it's an original. This is a crofter's cottage from the eighteenth century, and I've salvaged most of the original fixtures and fittings."

"Love the Christmas tree too. Did you put it up today?" she asked glancing around the kitchen, peering out of the window and touching his collection of fridge magnets.

"Aye, I did."

"Those antique Christmas ornaments are stunning and much better than those plastic baubles you get in shops. I have a few antique ornaments myself. Just too bad, our London flat is not big enough to accommodate a proper Christmas tree." She lifted the lid off the slow cooker and took a whiff. "Mmm, this smells lovely."

He straightened and glanced at what she was wearing. "Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are ye still wearing yer coat? Are ye cold? I thought I put enough wood in the fire."

She grinned. "Oh, this. It's a surprise. Hang on a minute." She turned her back to him, and he waited with anticipation, watching her movements of undoing her coat. If she was wearing a negligee under that coat, he knew he would have a heart attack, and dinner would definitely be put on hold if not cancelled. But he rubbished his thoughts immediately, knowing she wasn't that type of lass. "Close your eyes!" she instructed, and he did.

"Ye're killing me."

"Patience!"

"Are ye naked under yer coat?" he teased.

"You wish!"

He heard rustling followed by footsteps.

"Right, you can open them now."

He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately landed on the front of her top. It was a Rudolph the Reindeer's face applique complete with a protruding shiny big nose. She was a bundle of red, wearing  red fleece pyjamas with plaid bottoms, and her feet were covered in thick, red woollen socks. He laughed out loud.

"Wait for this. You haven't seen anything yet." Claire fiddled with something from under the hem and pulled the reindeer antler's hood from behind. The reindeer's nose on her front lit up, and the antlers stood lopsided on her head. The hoodie was far too big for her, and it hid one eye. "Ho, ho, ho!" she intonated in a low voice.

He chuckled and pulled her against him. "Ho, ho, ho, indeed. Where did ye get this? This is something for Christmas morning. It's almost as ridiculous as the Christmas jumpers."

"I know, right? As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it. Bought it today in Inverness. I thought since we've been doing all sort of Christmassy things together, I'd stick with the theme."

"That red nose is not going to keep flashing like that the whole evening, will it? It's very distracting."

She pressed something from under the top. "Nope. The show's over."

He arched an eyebrow and decided to tease her. "Really? What's underneath that top?"

She blushed, but the smile never left her face. "A hungry tummy."

"Brilliant! Shall we eat then?"

"Sure! I'll help set up the table."

Claire rattled off the things she did with Annalise that day. He was glad her friend had agreed to stay until Three Kings which would buy him more time getting to know Claire better. Jamie didn't want to think of the day when she would go back to London, even though it had been lurking all day at the back of his mind. Watching her work beside him in the kitchen, he was glad she felt comfortable and right at home. He wanted to make good memories with her just in case this was all they would ever have.

They served dinner like they'd been doing it together for years, pouring red wine, plating food he'd prepared and chatting the entire time. They sat opposite each other so Jamie could see every blush, expression and emotion that crossed her face, appreciating the fact she had an appetite, a sense of humour and took a keen interest in his work, life and Broch Mordha. He might have sounded a tad bit like a salesman trying to sell a lifestyle in a remote Highland village, and if she noticed, she didn't give any hints.

When they touched the delicate subject of his PTSD, he realised it was easier to talk about it this time. Claire spoke with refreshing candour, even suggesting alternative healing such as meditation and acupuncture, which he liked and made a mental note to look into it.

Throughout their meal, Claire spoke of her childhood, and in exchange, he talked about his family. From time to time, he would reach out to squeeze her hand so he could see the blush blooming on her cheeks or kiss her, to see the shy smile spreading across her face. Every second with her was a pleasant discovery, and he knew what a lucky bastard he was. How she was without a boyfriend was beyond him but thankful that she didn't have one.

After dinner, they cleared the table and did the dishes. And when Jamie took out Rollo for a short exercise, Claire fed the kitten with a wee bottle Harry had left him.

They took their coffee, a box of chocolate Claire loved, and the unfinished bottle of red wine into the living room. As Jamie put another log into the fire, Rollo curled up next to Claire. It was quite apparent, he wasn't the only one smitten. Smiling, he plopped down next to her and turned on the TV to watch Home Alone.

..........

When the film credits started rolling in the end, Jamie turned off the volume and stretched. He glanced over to Claire just in time to see her unwrapping a Ferrero Rocher chocolate. When she realised he was looking at her, she offered him the already unwrapped sweet. 

He shook his head and smiled. "So, what do ye want to do?"

The room filled with silence as she exaggeratedly contemplated, tapping her chin and scrunching her nose while rolling the chocolate in her mouth. 

His eyes dropped to the delicate lines of her jaw. The smooth, pale skin of her neck and the movement of her throat as she swallowed wreaked havoc with his concentration. He had a very vivid image of what they could do, and they involved running his tongue along the neckline of that ridiculous pyjama top. Since that option would probably send her running out the door, he quickly dismissed the idea. "More movies?" he suggested.

"No. Had enough. Do you know how to play poker?"

"Do I know how to play poker?" He laughed out loud. "I'm a master at the game."

Her eyes lit up. "You have a deck of cards?"

"Aye, I will go and get them." He got up from the sofa and headed towards a desk in the corner of the room. "Always love a game of poker."

"Oh, good. I haven't played for ages."

"What do we play for?"

She cleared the coffee table and crossed her legs. "We'll play for pennies, how about that?"

"I dinnae think I have any loose change."

"We'll think of something else. I'm dealing."

He handed her the deck of cards, put on some classic Christmas song, and then refilled their glasses. He sat beside her and watched with amazement as her fingers expertly flew through the cards with ease, shuffling with lightning speed. While concentrating on his hand, he wondered where she learned how to deal and surmised probably her uncle, the same man who taught her to play pool.

"Alright, here we go, dealer's choice. Five-card stud, ante up."

He glanced up at her. "Wait! We havenae decided what we're playing for." 

"Oh, I forgot. You said you don't have any loose change."

"Maybe we ought to play for the family jewels."

She slapped him on the thigh. "Ha-ha! You funny man!"

His lips twitched. "Weel, any ideas?"

"Can't think of one at the moment."

"Wait a minute ...I have a verra interesting one."

Claire glared at him. "If you're thinking of strip poker, forget it."

He laughed out loud. "No, I didnae mean that. Although I wouldnae mind that." When she arched an eyebrow at him, he grinned. "I meant we'll play for favours."

She bit her lower lip. "Favours? What kind of favours?" she asked suspiciously.

"The first to win three hands gets a free favour from the other. It can be used at any time, like a voucher per se."

Her face suddenly became animated. "Can you use the favour for anything? How about the rules?"

He grinned. "Nae rules and ye can redeem yer favours on anything. Anything at all."

The challenge lured her in like a true gambler following the scent of a big stake. "Very well then, we're playing for favours."

He smothered the jubilant smile threatening to surface and quickly fixed his expression into poker-face, almost licking his lips with glee when she'd agreed.

She dealt, and he almost pumped his fist in the air at the obvious outcome, but he remained silent, watching her replace one of her cards.

After a while, he laid down his cards. "Flush."

"Cool. Two queens. Your deal." Her expression remained inscrutable. God, her poker face is good!

Jamie had to give her credit for keeping her emotions under control. Whoever taught her to play, taught her well and if it wasn't for his past experience, he felt in his guts she'd be one hell of a player to beat. Next, she threw down a pair of aces and yielded gracefully to his three twos.

"Alright, one more hand to go," he announced, subduing the mirth in his voice.

"My deal. I can count, ye ken," she said, imitating his accent. He kept his face impassive as he watched her dainty fingers flitting over the cards. "Care to share where you learn how to play poker?"

He inspected his hand casually. "Played a lot with my unit during my SAS days. Beats sitting around and twiddling my thumbs during long intervals."

"My uncle taught me," she shared. "As well as backgammon and chess."

He threw in a card and replaced it. "I have backgammon and chessboards if ye feel like playing for another time. I'm quite good at both games, in case ye're up for a challenge."

She let out an unladylike snort when she laid down her cards, displaying straight as victory gleamed in her eyes.

Jamie almost felt sorry for her. Not quite but almost.

He whistled low and shook his head. "Good hand." This time he allowed himself to smile. "But, sorry lass, it's no' good enough." He threw his cards down, showing four aces and then cockily stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on the sofa. "Nice game, though."

She gasped and looked at him with those beautiful golden orbs. "Jamie, the probabilities of four aces in five-card stud are ..." Her eyes widened. "Oh my word, you didn't!"

"What?"

"Why you cheeky sod ..."

"What, Sassenach?"

"Don't Sassenach me. You cheated!"

"No!"

"Yes, you did!"

He shook his head in feigned horror and tried to look offended. "Och, how could ye think that? Surely not! I ken ye're verra good at it, but this is all on luck."

Her pretty eyebrows slammed together. "No way you can get those four aces unless you palmed the cards. Admit it, because I was thinking of doing it myself, but I refrained from doing so!"

"Don't ye think yer accusation is a tad bit harsh?"

"Jamie, you cheated! I know you did. I can't believe you cheated on our date night. Oh, my God! How could you?"

"I did no such thing."

"Jamie!"

"No cheating occurred, Sassenach." He straightened up from his sitting position and smiled. "Now about that favour I won ..." But his voice trailed off when she abruptly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Sassenach?"

"You cheat!" Without warning, she propelled herself over the coffee table and into his arms. Air whooshed out of him as she toppled him back onto the sofa and slipped a hand under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, looking for the suspected hidden cards. Jamie grunted as the full weight of Claire landed on him, her intent on finding proof of foul play resolute. He attempted to regain his balance, but she shifted her attention somewhere else, making him fall back again. When her hands slipped into his pants pocket, he realised if she delved any deeper, she wouldn't come up empty-handed. Ah, sweet Jesus!  With no other options, he flipped her onto her back and pinned both hands above her head.

The tie holding her hair somehow became undone during the struggle, causing her chocolate brown curls to spring forth and tumble down, and a few unruly locks to settle on her face. Jamie stared at the snapping golden eyes peeking between the strands, filled with determination despite his more considerable strength. Her chest heaved against her ridiculous top, the appliquéd Rudolf the reindeer staring mockingly at him. Without meaning to, his weight forced her thighs apart, and he wondered if she was aware of both their predicament. Or at least his.

Jamie knew he would be in deep trouble if he remained where he was, as she continued to wriggle under him.

"I know you're hiding the cards somewhere. I wasn't born yesterday, you know! Admit you cheated and I will forget this ever happened."

"Will ye keep still, Sassenach" he muttered. "Ye're torturing me."

She stuck out her bottom lip and blew a hard breath, the wayward curl lifting and blowing sideways, clearing her line of sight. "That's your conscience doing that. Did you know there's a special place in hell for cheaters?"

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Don't ye ever think of the repercussion to yer actions? Ye cannae just tackle a man like that."

"Oh? What are you going to do about it? Tell Santa to put me on his naughty list?"

Her body suddenly started to shake when she burst into fits of laughter at her own words, causing the heat in his groin to surge through his body like a wildfire gone out of control. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! His blood buzzed in his head like a swarming fog, and even though he tried to shift all his thoughts on the fat man sliding down the chimney and getting stuck halfway, all he could only think of was the soft body beneath him. He tried not to breathe and held his body in a tight muscle lock and prayed Claire wouldn't make any more sudden big movements; otherwise, he was going to explode like a schoolboy and look like a glaikit idiot.

But when the realisation of his plight swiftly dawned on her, her mouth formed a comical O, and her face turned bright red, her previous intent on extracting a confession of his cheating, dissipating. 

"Jamie?" Her voice was husky.

He swallowed hard and ignored the fact he had a big fat boner wedged between them. "Did I hurt ye? Didnae mean to be so rough."

"No. I'm fine."

"Are ye sure?"

She smiled, and he inhaled deeply to regain his composure. She smelled like shampoo and flowers and just a hint of fruit flavoured lollies, and he could just about see the pulse palpitating on her neck. Their position made his erection harder, and the way she was looking at him wasn't helping at all.

"You're a big lad," she gulped. 

Ah, shite! "And ye're not helping," he said hoarsely, tamping down a groan.

"Shall I go?"

"No!" He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Just be still for a moment, aye?"

"Alright."

They laid still for a while looking at each other.

Carefully, he let go of her wrists above her head and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I can stare at ye like this for hours and never tire of it," he whispered. She smiled, and he kissed the smooth line of her jaw. When she tilted her head back, his lips trailed down of their own accord, bowing his body over hers as he worked his way to the side of her neck.

Hard as he was, he didn't move against her. He wanted her to feel safe and everything to be on her terms, letting her know this attraction went beyond sex. He held on to his control with a mental vice grip and simply appreciated the moment. 

His combed his fingers through her curls, feeling the softness of it in his hand as he kissed her softly, never demanding or pushing even if it pained him a lot.

He heard Rollo sigh from somewhere in the house and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. He almost shot out the sofa as small hands tentatively explored his chest and shoulders, before sliding around his neck and up through his hair. Then they moved down his side and waist before her palms settled over the ridges of his stomach. He loved the small sounds she made at the back of her throat and the softness against every part of him that was hard. Every movement and sigh she made, her scent drifted and surrounded him, a heady pheromone, pulling him in closer.

When her hands slipped under his sweatshirt and settled at his lower back, his breath broke and went ragged, and an instant electric tension rose between them, turning their soft, playful kisses heated and more urgent.

As much as it hurt him to do so, he tore his lips away and looked into her eyes. "We dinnae have to do anything ye dinnae want, Sassenach. We can stop right now," he whispered, his voice sounding oddly gruff in his ears. He felt his cock protesting against his boxer shorts, but he ignored the mounting discomfort in his groin.

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to stop. Kiss me again." 

Relief slammed through him as a ton of weight lifted off his back. "Sassenach, are ye sure?"

She nodded. 

He was about to kiss her again when a gentle push of her hands on his chest stopped him.

"I've never done this before," she whispered. 

"What do ye mean?" 

She rolled her eyes. "I meant sex!"

Ah, Christ! A virgin living in London! How is that possible? Even for Broch Mordha, a virgin was a rarity. He shut his eyes for a few heartbeats, and when he opened them again, suddenly she looked unsure, almost embarrassed, and he felt she needed him to step up. He gave her a slow smile to put her at ease. "Do ye come with a user's manual? Never been with a virgin before."

Her face broke into laughter, and the tension eased a bit. "No! And before you start having all sorts of notions about virgins, I'm not all that naive. I have a fair idea of how it suppose to happen."

"Weel, no crash courses needed then," he joked before his face turned serious. "But why me, Sassenach?"

She gave him an unwavering look, her chin tilting up slightly. "Because I've never felt like this before." 

Neither had he, but the wee voice in the back of his head reminded him this lass was the type of lass you brought home to introduce to your parents. Getting involved with her on a deeper emotional level wouldn't bode well for both of them as her life was in London, and he belonged here. He didn't want to hurt her. She deserved a man who could live in her world without falling down to his knees and having one of his episodes. But the gravitational pull between them was unrelenting. He needed her badly, but his conscience compelled him to offer one more out. One more, before he lost sight of the right thing to do.

"We can just continue kissing ...nothing needs to happen," he rasped, brushing their lips together. "Just say the word, Sassenach. I promise ye I wouldnae mind. I'm perfectly happy just to kiss."

Claire's breath caught as she scrutinised him, the weight of what could follow once they'd stripped each other's clothes written in her eyes. Probably in his, too. "I want this Jamie ... I'm ready."

He studied her for a long while, before making up his mind and nodding. "Wait here."

Getting up, he grabbed some blankets and throw cushions from the sofa and laid them out on the floor. And then he went to retrieve some condoms from the bedroom. After a couple of minutes fussing and finally satisfied with his handiwork, he picked Claire up and gently carried her by the fireplace. Though the fire was already slowly dying down, the embers still glowed, lending the room a cosy feel and warmth.

Claire looked up at him and beamed. "Well, I suppose this is the part where you take off your top."

He laughed out loud despite his balls almost on the verge of mutiny. What supposed to be a tense and awkward moment, was turning out to be fun. He didn't need telling twice. Grinning, he dragged his shirt over his head and was hovering over her under a split second. She looked mightily impressed as she pulled him down. "Wow, never seen anyone take their shirt off so fast," she breathed as he pressed his lips on the hollow of her throat.

"Ye should see how fast I can get yers off," he muttered against the crook of her neck. 

She laughed and gently pushed him away. "I don't want my Rudolph top damaged. I'll take my own clothes off, thank you very much."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her stand and peeled off her pyjama bottom first. She had her back to him, and he figured she was trying to hide her blush. And when she took off her top next, his cock roared back to life, and he hurriedly followed suit, taking off his sweatpants, his eyes fixed on the smoothness of her long legs. Leaving her red bra and knickers on, she swiftly slipped next to him, her teeth clattering and her beautiful pale skin covered in goosebumps.

He gathered her immediately under him, rubbing her arms and the side of her body. "How's that? Still cold?" he asked, looking down at her.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Feeling a lot warmer now."

"Christ, ye smell so good."

"And you're so hot." When she realised what she just said, her eyes widened in horror. "I mean you're like a heating pad."

He grinned at her. "I know what ye meant, but I'll take the other meaning any day. It will do wonders for my ego."

She slapped his arm. "Your ego is perfectly intact, I can assure you."

He smiled as he skimmed his hand up her side and gently cupped her breast, waiting for her reaction. When he felt her back arch a little, he brought down his lips to hers, gently thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She let out a tiny whimper, opening and taking each thrust, conscious of her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He reminded himself to take it slow and make it memorable for her, but when she parted her knees and allowed him to settle between her thighs, he groaned out loud and changed position, so the tip of his erection pressed right into her through their undies. The slow tease of their movements was maddening, and he wondered if she was aware of it. His cock was straining against her where it would slide in effortlessly if there had been nothing between them.

He felt her hooked her thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He helped her by kicking them off while putting his fingers under the edge of her knickers. He paused with bated breaths, waiting for her permission, and when she lifted her hips, he groaned and kissed her long and thorough, pushing the flimsy scrap down her thighs.

He nipped at her lips, then trailed down with his tongue to nibble her neck, his fingers unsnapping the clasp of her bra. Claire flailed her head, seemingly unable to verbalise the reactions her body was experiencing, and he watched her with fascination. Emboldened, he cupped the weight of her breast, rolling her nipple, then gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, God Jamie ..."

"It's good?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling her lips in.

Jamie lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple, his tongue flicking and never letting up the frantic pace, his fingers trailing along her inner thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. When he touched her core, she was already wet with need, making his head spin out of control. Fighting the urge to take her now, his index finger traced her folds, rubbing her wetness on her nub. The delicate hitch of her breath hit his ears the exact time his mouth abandoned her breast. 

He met her gaze and sank into the amber depths of her eyes, so far gone with pleasure they turned to molten gold, full of feminine demand that battled past all obstacles and shattered them to pieces. The raw need etched in her features told Jamie she was past the point of no return, that she wanted him now and he knew the feeling.

"Sassenach ...are ye sure?"

"Oh, sweet Mother of God, if you stop now ..." her voice trailed off in a hiss.

"I need to hear the words."

"For God's sake, I want you, Jamie. Now."

Knocking back the reluctance to untangle himself from her, Jamie reared back and reached out for the condom he'd left beside the cushion. He quickly sheathed himself in stretched latex and prowled up her body, settling between her thighs and muffling her requests to hurry with a hard kiss. 

"The first time ye come, I want it to happen while I'm sunk so deep in ye, ye'll never forget who broke it in," he muttered, words muffled by her lips.

"Oh, dear God ..." she moaned.

"Open yer legs wider for me, Sassenach."

She nodded, her fingers running over his cheekbones, lips, chin, as she hiked her knees up. Their breaths raced out of their mouths as he reached down and guided his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inch by inch, allowing her to get used to his girth. When he was finally buried to the hilt, he collapsed and dropped her forehead to hers. 

When he got his breath back, he braced himself on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "Did I hurt ye?"

"Just a little. I hardly noticed. Keep moving." She wrapped her legs around his hips, her fingernails scraping his back lightly on the way down to his arse, which she gripped with hesitation at first, then with more confidence.

With a groan, his hips started to roll of their own volition. He held his breath as heat threatened to flare up in his balls. "Oh fuck, ye feel so good."

"Don't stop ..." she gasped frantically moving her hips against him.

With a hand on her bottom, he lifted her hips effortlessly and drove himself deeper, the last shreds of his control dissolving as he fell on top of her like a dying man. His mouth travelled over hers, and she responded in kind, their tongues twining, their bodies moving in synchronicity to the erotic rhythm and dance. The root of his erection grated against her core and her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, her breaths coming out in pants. It was so breathtaking to watch her pleasure, and what his body is doing to hers, it constricted his heart.

When she dropped her legs from his hips to spread them wider, she let out a strangled moan, and his cock bore down, working her nub. He angled his body for more friction, watching and always conscious of her reaction. When her back arched, and her right leg extended further out, they descended into what felt like wanton madness. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet his thrusts, her inner walls beginning a slow, tight suction of his cock. Jamie was almost afraid to look at her, worried the sight of her would make him lose his restraint and come before her. But it was an impossibility to keep his eyes away when she looked so beautiful beneath him.

He watched her writhe and finesse flew out the window. He fell on her, grunting, sucking in huge gulps of air, pushing her thighs open as he drove faster, listening to her moans of his name, treasuring the throaty awe of them in his ears and all around him. Their mouths joined and gorged, her hands slapping down on his buttocks to pull him in deeper and push him faster. All thoughts of logic, questions and issues suspended as he dipped his head, lowered his mouth over her jiggling tits and continued to pump like a wild beast.

Her body suddenly stilled, before trembling violently underneath him in a climax accompanied by a soft moan, her inner walls squeezing his cock tight. Cursing under his breath, he yanked her legs up and drove himself with a few more hard thrusts to his own peak, a loud groan reverberating from his chest and echoing into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body exploded and spilt his seed. He went from being a bundle of tensed nerves to being utterly devoid of it. 

Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her, gathering her against him, almost smothering the air out of her. His insides were totally decimated, mind blown and floated down like confetti. 

Moments later, when he lifted his head and searched her eyes, he couldn't stop the widest grin from spreading across his face. And when she returned it with a twinkle in her eye, he fell irreversibly and completely in love with Claire Beauchamp.

..........

The next morning, Jamie got up extra early to let Claire sleep while he did a few chores around the house. He'd kept her up all night, making love and sometime in the early hours of the morning, he'd carried her to his bed. Sleep had been evasive, but this time the cause hadn't been his nightmares or one of his episodes. His thoughts had been filled with the future and its uncertainties instead of being plagued with the past. There were still some niggling doubts lurking in the recesses of his mind, and one of them was his concern when Claire returned to London.

How often had he asked himself in the past twenty-four hours if he could live in London to be closer to her? But now that he had an arboricultural business with Willie, it was doing very well and planning on expanding. He was excited about the community projects he was involved in and committed himself to working long-term. With his episodes and PTSD, the idea of being surrounded by busy streets, chaos, traffics, loud noises, and shoes on the pavement rather than fresh earth paralysed a piece inside him.

Jamie had spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Eventually, some choices have to be made. And he wasn't sure if love would be enough for either of them and if Claire felt the same way.

Taking that leap would only end in heartache and worsen his condition. There had to be some other way. But he couldn't ask her to give up her life and career in London. Or could he? Could he give her what she needed? He shook his head and pushed the bugging thoughts away. They still had the time, and he should focus on that.

After letting Rollo out and bringing in more logs for the fireplace, he made some coffee, answered his emails and read some news on the internet. When his phone chirped and realised it was from his sister Jenny, he groaned. He decided to answer and get it out of the way.

Jenny: I heard all about the lass you're seeing. A city lass, no less. Have you gone mad? Haven't you learned your lessons?

Ah, fuck, I don't have time for this.

Jamie: Enjoy your holiday, and don't worry about me. It's just a winter fling. OK? She's on holiday, and she'll be going back to London. Soon. Happy now?

He left his phone on the kitchen counter and shook his head. This wasn't the text conversation he should be having about Claire. But if it would keep Jenny from busting his balls of all days, he'd play along just to pacify her. He slipped into the bedroom, and when he saw Claire still asleep, he decided to have a shave and shower.

After he was done, he walked into the bedroom and noticed the bed was already made. He searched for Claire, humming under his breath and planning what breakfast he should prepare.

"Sassenach?" he called out. 

No answer. 

She probably went back to her cottage to get a change of clothes, he thought.

He shrugged and went ahead and prepared breakfast, singing along to the song playing on the radio. All I Want For Christmas Is You.

Dear Readers,

Thanking you all for reading and leaving your feedback on the previous chapter. Very much appreciated. It's crunch time now with my writing and preparation for Christmas, but thank God, I'm still on track.

Anyway, I hope this story has given you Christmas joy so far and looking forward to reading what you thought of my latest update. Sending you best wishes and positive vibes. Take care of yourselves and until next time, much love. x

[todoroki-waifu]

ayoo! I saw that requests were open so here I am! Anyways can I requests that there's a fem reader that is best friends with todoroki and he's dating (anyone) and one day when class 1a is chilling in the living room having a movie night and a kid from the future time travel there and everyone is confused asf and sooner or later it comes out that the child was todoroki's and the readers child and everyone's like damn cuz yk he has a whole s/o next to him LMFAOSJJ IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUSUNG😭😭

I’m so sorry this is so late! 😢 Thank you so much for your request! And it wasn’t confusing. This was an interesting one. If I did misinterpret it wrong, I’m sorry! Lol hope you like it ^^ 

Note:  __(u/s) will stand for unknown/unnamed significant other for Todoroki.

Todoroki x F! Reader (kind of?)

Word Count: 1,987

Genre: Angst, slight fluff, sci-fi, maybe a little fantasy? (whatever time travel would fall under)

Warnings: Female reader and Todoroki with a gender neutral s/o.

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

Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki, __(u/s), and Jirou were preparing snacks for class 1a's weekly movie night. Iida, Midoriya, and Jirou were the first to leave the kitchen, bringing with them cups, beverages, napkins, straws, and disposable plates. While Todoroki finishes up placing a variety of chips into different bowls, he looks over at his __(u/s).

He smiles fondly at them, walking over to his partner and wrapping his arms around them.

"Need any help?"

"T-todoroki-kun! You scared me." __(u/s) was concentrated on microwaving the popcorn at the correct temperature, afraid of triggering the fire alarm.

"Really? Am I that frightening?" He pouts slightly.

"Not at all! I guess my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to make sure that I didn't burn the popcorn." __(u/s) laughed sheepishly before pecking his cheek.

Both heads turn towards the kitchen entrance when they hear the sound of steps entering.

"Relax! Just me." You saw their slightly stiffened look. They were a fairly new couple so they were still getting used to showing their affection in front of other people. Todoroki and his partner were only comfortable around you, being that you're his best friend.

You've known him for a while and have been there for almost an entirety of his childhood and up to now. He still has yet to tell his significant other about his past, the poor boy afraid of scaring his current lover. 

Well, he'll tell them some day. Just not right now. But that was how much Todoroki trusted you.

He was also so grateful that __(u/s) was comfortable around you. __(u/s) knew of his and your relationship and although they were a bit weary of you in the beginning, they ended up loving you later on. You proved that you retained no feelings for the half and half student and that you had the same intentions as the rest of class 1a. Which was to be his loyal and supportive friend.

"Didn't mean to interrupt. Mina and Toru wanted some ice cream." You quickly went to the freezing, grabbing two tubs of the frozen dessert along with two huge spoons.

"Don't take too long, bestie. I want to get some cuddles with __(u/s), too." You joked as you walked out to the common area.

------

Midoriya saw you approaching the group and was the first to assist you.

"Here, let me get that." He grabs the two cold containers, placing it on the table. "Who wants which flavors?"

He calls out to the gang while a few responded back and you helped the All Might fanatic. Once you finish passing out the bowls, Todoroki and his partner come out with a few salty snacks to add to the menu.

You sat in between Midoriya and __(u/s) on the floor with a plate full of assorted goods. Todoroki and __(u/s) share a bowl of chips and ice cream, the couple feeding each other occasionally. You smile at your best friend, so happy for him.

Although you were a bit jealous that he found love before you. You felt like a third wheel whenever both of them would ask you to hang out.

Oh well. Romance will come whenever the time is right. Besides, you weren't that focused on relationships nor did you really have anyone in particular that you liked.

Your thoughts refocused on the blaring music coming from the TV, indicating the start of the movie. You excused yourself after a while, heading to the kitchen to grab some more water bottles for yourself and for a few.

When you reach the kitchen door, a small swirl of blue energy blocks your way. You watch as the ball of energy expand and white electrifying rays spread from the center. Before you could react, the energized orb immediately explodes, the blast causing you to fall onto your bottom. Not only did you feel the force push you back, but you felt a sudden weight holding you down.

"__(y/n)! Are you okay?" Midoriya and Bakugou are the first to respond to the blast with Todoroki not too far behind them.

"Y-yeah, I think so?" You replied, carefully sitting up. You look down at the weight on your lap, noticing it to be a small child with ___(hair color) hair and a single streak of white and red. When they peer up, you see dark grey and light blue eyes staring back at you.

"Mommy?" The child blinked up at you then smiled brightly. "Mommy! I found you!"

"M-m-mommy!?" You screeched out, feeling the little one embrace you tightly.

"You're a mother?" Uraraka chimed in.

"I didn't know I was one!"

"Mommy, where did your big belly go? Did my little sister finally come out? Where is she? I want to meet her! I'm so excited to be a big sister!"

"Excuse me!? Little sister?"

"You had another baby?" Hagakure gasps loudly.

"How? I never got pregnant! I don't even have a boyfriend nor am I seeing anyone!" You answered her back then sighed loudly. "H-hey kid, ummm, first off, are you okay?" You wanted to make sure this tiny stranger wasn't injured.

"Yes, mommy! I'm okay."

"Alright, well, I hate to tell you this but I'm not your mom. But maybe I can find her for you?"

"What do you mean? Why do you say that? Of course you're my mom!" Her eyes begin to fill with tears.

"It's just kind of impossible. Listen, you said that I had a big belly and you were waiting for your little sister, but right now, I don't have that big belly. I didn't even know you were having a sibling."

"M-mommy, are you-you j-joking? It's not funny! Waah!" Your future daughter begins to cry loudly and you immediately hug her.

"Don't cry! Everything will be alright! We're going to find your mommy, okay?" You look around the room to your classmates, sending them a pleading look.

"Hey man, that's your brat." Bakugou stuffs his hands into his pocket, about to not involve himself in your little dilemma. He didn't have patience for children at the moment.

"Bakugou!" You scolded him. "She's not a brat. She's just lost and scared.  Take it easy on her. And if you want to be a hero, help me find the kid's parents. Isn't that what a hero is supposed to do?"

"I ain't no babysitter!"

"Dude, that's not manly at all! Let's help them out." Kirishima places a hand on his blonde friend's shoulder.

"Time travel!" Midoriya blurts out of nowhere. Once he receives his classmates' confused gazes, he finally begins to clarify. "I think she's really your daughter, __(y/n). She looks a lot like you and she seems really attached to you. She must've came here from the future when that blast happened. That's the only plausible explanation."

"I'm sorry that everything is confusing and scary right now, but I think I figured out what's going on." Midoriya squats beside you and your daughter, placing his hand on her back. Your daughter sniffles a couple times before looking at the green haired boy.

"Uncle Deku? How... how come you're so small?" She wipes her eyes while he could hear a few snickering in the background.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're noticing that everyone is different. It's because-"

"Daddy!" Your daughter gasps loudly when she finally sees Todoroki. She jumps out from your arms and rushes to the dual quirk user, holding her tiny arms up to him. Todoroki blinks at the child, unsure of what to do.

"Huh? How come you're not holding mommy's hand?" She notices Todoroki's fingers linked with __(u/s).

"D-daddy?! You mean, Todoroki-kun is the father?" Midoriya shrieks at the reveal.

"W-what?" __(u/s) frowns deeply, slowly slipping their hand away from Todoroki. "You mean, you and __(y/n)? But I thought that... "

"Wait, no, that is impossible. She must have me mistaken for someone else. __(y/n) and I do not harbor any feelings for one another nor do we share any children together. Please believe me." Todoroki attempts to grab __(u/s)'s hands, but they back away quickly.

"Yeah! Shouto's right! We're only best friends. That's it. You know that. How can we have a kid together when we're not even a couple? He likes you; not me. I might be single, but I'm really not interested in anyone at the moment."

"Daddy, what is going on? I thought you love mommy?" Your poor daughter was unknowingly exacerbating the situation.

"I... I gotta go." __(u/s) starts to gather their things.

"Please, wait." Todoroki grabs their arm but they pull back suddenly.

"Don't, Todoroki. This is too much. I don't think I can continue this." He tries to plead with them to stay, but __(u/s) shakes their head. "Just, please leave me alone. And please don't contact me. Either of you." ___(u/s) eyes both you and Todoroki.

Your best friend watches sadly as __(u/s) leaves, the room being weighed down by the silent tension. It was only when Denki utters a word that brought back the noise.

"Damn... " The electric hero feels a sudden, sharp jab to his right side. He looks at the source to find Jirou glaring at him.

"Mommy? Daddy?" The little one blinks at Todoroki and then at you, uncertain of what just transpired. You knew your best friend needed space to himself for now so you decide that you would approach him later. Besides, you felt like you were responsible for his breakup. You felt too embarrassed to face him.

So instead, you focus on your little girl, gently grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side. Midoriya begins to explain to your daughter why things were so different and she slowly begins to understand.

-------

Todoroki walks outside of the dorm building, situating himself on the first few steps. His mind tortures him by replaying the scene where his relationship crumbles. He doesn't understand. What could he have done to preserve his romance with ___(u/s)?

But then his mind directs him to his future daughter. Todoroki was a bit angry, yes, but he couldn't blame the young child seeing that she came from a very different timeline. It honestly wasn't her fault.

Then who's fault was it? His? Yours?

No, it was no one's. If he was truly meant to be with you, why wasn't he jumping for joy? Because at this point in time, he was simply not attracted to you. He honestly didn't understand how you two formed a family together.

Then his mind wanders elsewhere.

Would being around you continue to ruin his future relationships? Would he truly be happy if you ended up being his lifetime partner? According to his future child, you two were going to have another one so that had to mean something.

But he didn't love you. 

Yes, he cared deeply for you and you both knew everything and anything about each other, but you and him had a different kind of bond.

Then the thought of sacrificing his friendship with you for the sake of his future relationships began to hurt his heart. But you'd understand, right? Todoroki wanted to find love eventually. He also did want to work everything out with __(u/s).

But would separating himself from you be the right answer? How would that affect the future? He felt so torn. He has a family with you in the future, but his heart does not yearn for you. And you don't love him back like that either.

Right?

As he thinks on his feelings for you, he goes back to when you two were children and when you first met. He remembers almost everything that you two shared together all the way up to the present. 

The arguments. The late night study sessions. The dangerous villain encounters. The hero internships. The cultural festival. The laughter.

Your warmth. Your kindness. Your smile.

His heart slowly starts to beat faster.

But he didn't love you, right?

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

Previous Part✨            Next Part ✨

Masterlist of the AU✨ 

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.) 

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door. 

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five. 

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present. 

You have a generous set for neighbours. 

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears. 

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people. 

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons: 

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough, 

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside. 

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes. 

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot. 

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints. 

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”  

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences. 

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion. 

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort. 

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting. 

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination. 

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.” 

If only you had epiphanies. 

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations. 

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus. 

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right. 

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience. 

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?” 

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed. 

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm. 

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort. 

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried. 

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other. 

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles). 

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest. 

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning. 

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep. 

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him. 

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight. 

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment. 

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging. 

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck. 

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now. 

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk.  Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus. 

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life. 

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one. 

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you. 

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---” 

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest. 

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac. 

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus. 

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume. 

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind. 

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.  

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath. 

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.  

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead. 

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe. 

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece. 

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses. 

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2. 

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips. 

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.” 

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden. 

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side. 

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug. 

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly. 

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms. 

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed. 

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest. 

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre. 

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏” 

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience. 

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound. 

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night. 

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene. 

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around. 

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind. 

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.  

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode. 

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore. 

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well. 

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll. 

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.  

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup. 

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd. 

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings. 

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant. 

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment. 

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now. 

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together. 

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music. 

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in. 

 Oh god, I went too far. 

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that? 

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present. 

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light. 

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit. 

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece. 

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing. 

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream. 

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way. 

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty. 

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area. 

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.  

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho. 

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot. 

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left. 

The star of the fountain, the water nymph. 

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny. 

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late. 

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.” 

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder. 

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine. 

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed. 

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate. 

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.  

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream. 

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips. 

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner. 

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name. 

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses. 

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen. 

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim. 

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone. 

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up. 

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.  

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query. 

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy. 

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.” 

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances. 

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety. 

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.” 

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm. 

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance. 

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology. 

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well. 

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely. 

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’ 

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone. 

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone. 

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry. 

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”  

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.” 

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.” 

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t. 

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve. 

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally. 

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time. 

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”  

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes. 

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead. 

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further. 

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!” 

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot. 

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade. 

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!” 

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows. 

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.  

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists. 

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips. 

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man! 

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----” 

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.” 

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed. 

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.” 

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again. 

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.” 

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit. 

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him. 

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly. 

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck. 

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter. 

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’. 

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips. 

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”  

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.” 

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.” 

You missed him. God, you missed him so much. 

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present. 

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck. 

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words. 

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.” 

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private. 

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions. 

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?” 

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss. 

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love. 

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable. 

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out. 

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view,  “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.” 

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval. 

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.” 

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet. 

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.” 

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes. 

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable. 

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--” 

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San! 

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!” 

He cracks up at your delayed realization. 

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action. 

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. “That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders. 

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question. 

He shakes his head. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?” 

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?” 

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide. 

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon. 

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer. 

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face. 

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?” 

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?” 

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man. 

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step. 

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours. 

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement. 

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.” 

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.” 

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.” 

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him. 

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly. 

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender. 

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight. 

Metaphorically and literally. 

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally 

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question 

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me. 

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus) 

🌸 Taglist: 

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy  @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight​ @kunhye​ @nekee-lilac02​ @peachyprincessminki​ @hidden-wildflowers​ @raysanshine​ @skzpleasestay​ @tearvantae​

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours. 

[snk-oc-guide]

ehhh hi i hope you do not mind reviewing my snk oc! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes or something, English is not my first language.. thank you in advance~

Basics Name: Ida Hoffmann Age: 16 Years Birthday: May 8th, 834 Birthplace: Wall Maria; Shiganshina District Species: Human Gender: Female

Affiliation: Scouting Legion Grad. Rank: 18 Kill Count: 3 [ 2 Solo, 1 assisted]

Appearance Ida is a short girl standing at 151cm and weighing 50kg. She has short, brown hair which she always wears in a high ponytail. She has dark green eyes and slightly tanned skin.

rowan: okay, she has short hair but wears it in a high ponytail. i know some short hair can be pulled back (like ymir's) but i don't think a high pony tail would work, unless it's at least medium-length.

a small critique, but it would bother me if i didn't point it out lol

Personality Ida is a compassionate person and cares for other people much, up to that point that she tends to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong so she can keep a close eye on others. She also always tries to cheer up those who might be upset about something and does everything in her possibilities to make them bright up. She treats everyone as nice as she can and always wears a smile on her face. Ida is overconfident with her actions, thinks she can do a certain something but actually can’t in the end. If someone asks Ida for an opinion, she clearly shows how indecisive she is, which is her biggest problem. The reason for that is what happened in Shiganshina, the happenings put her in a state where she’s very unsure about her decisions, which also shows that she isn’t a good leader person. She is also not stubborn and easily gives in if other people want something from her. Her actions are unpredictable, she often surprises others with the things she says or does, and a quite annoying habit of hers is to make (stupid) jokes.

She is superficial and shortsighted, and doesn't pay enough attention to the details of something, which in the end makes her judge situations too quickly. That is why she notices too late if, for example, her comrades need her help. But since she cares deeply about her comrades she'd always attempt to save them. Having made terrible decisions during the battles of Trost, which almost got her comrades killed, this slowly starts to take a toll on her emotional health, that's why she always keeps a smile on her face, to hide how guilty she feels.

Likes: Drawing, she did that ever since she was a little child, her brother brought her to it. Sleeping in. Since her constant training doesn't give her quite many chances to sleep, and she really loves to sleep, she takes every chance she has to sleep, even going to sleep sooner than all the other cadets. She likes to gossip, a lot. She can't stay quiet and always is blabbering about something (even though it might not make much sense).

rowan: i find it peculiar she enjoys "gossiping" since that involves talking about other people and their personal affairs behind their back. since she is a kind and caring person, i can't see her enjoying something like that tbh

Dislikes: Making decisions. She takes too long to decide and most of the times the decisions she makes are not even good. Rain, snow, winter as it's too cold for her, she dislikes cold weather as she's cold easily. Snootiness, especially regarding the military police, she thinks the people in there are "smug assholes".

Abilities/Statistics Ida is not an outstanding soldier, but she always tries to improve herself and get better day by day. The only thing that is indeed mentionable is how well she can handle the 3DMG.

3DMG: 10/10 Hand-on-Hand Combat: 2/10 Battle Skill: 6/10 Initiative: 3/10 Wits: 3/10 Strategy: 2/10 Teamwork: 2/10 Spontaneity: 10/10

She always manages to figure out something rather creative and probably very risky in heat moments. In hand-on-hand combat especially, doing things that confuse the opponent so she gets to have her chance. E.g. she yells out suddenly something to irritate her opponent [ aka "Holy hell, look, there, in the sky!" ] and then tries to take him down.

rowan: if she is good at quick/random thinking like that, i would increase her wits a little bit and make it a 5. same with hand-to-hand combat. with the skill that low, it means she is such a lousy fighter than anybody good beat her, even if she uses sneaky tactics like trying to distract them. she could take a swing, and they wouldn't even budge lol

so i would make her combat skill a 4 at the least.

i feel like since she cares so much for her teammates, her teamwork skill should be higher since she would have no problem working with them. with it being low, it sounds like she isn't a team player at all. i would make it an 8. so her new stats would look something like this:

3DMG: 10/10 Combat: 4/10 Battle Skill: 6/10 Initiative: 3/10 Wits: 5/10 Strategy: 2/10 Teamwork: 8/10 Spontaneity: 10/10

Background She grew up rather normally in the Shiganshina district, having a loving mother caring about her as her father passed away before she was born. Ida was known in Shiganshina as the girl pestering people daily with her good mood and many many questions. Ida had a brother, Martin, who head off to the military, and graduated to later join the Stationary Guard, who was also a victim of Ida's curiousity about literally everything. Ida loved her brother really much, and saw him as a rolemodel and always told everyone how "cool and awesome" he was. Since Ida was a open-minded girl and friendly, she had many friends she'd hang out with outside daily.

Everything was quite fine until the day when wall maria got breached. Ida managed to survive that day, but had to watch how her own brother got eaten right before her eyes just because he wanted to save her from getting eaten. She managed to get to the saving gate eventually and as Ida glanced back at the district sitting in the refugee boat, and caught sight of the armored titan, she realized she would join the military just like her brother, to learn how to defeat titans and not just stand there doing nothing like that day. She wanted to revenge her brother and fulfill his wish he had told her right before he got eaten - survive.

rowan: you mention she had a caring mother, but make no other mention of her. did she die during the fall of wall maria?

Ida joined the 104th Trainees Squad in Trost two years later. She had her problems in the beginning, more than once standing on the edge of failing the training, yet she managed to stay strong and always would find a way to get through it, no matter how hard it was. She grew close to her comrades since she's really compassionate and always tried to help everyone with their problems.

As she was having to decide whether to join the Scouting Legion or the Stationary Guard, she was about to choose the Stationary Guard because she wanted to chose the same path as her brother, but then the wall got breached again. During the battles of Trost, Ida managed to kill one titan and she realized what she really wanted. She wanted to be finally free, and she knew the only possibility to become free was to join the Scouting Legion and try to find a way to erase these titans outside the walls. Surviving, she joined the Survey Corps in the end along the 21 of the 104th Trainees squad who chose to do so.

She had a strong change of heart. Martin's wish of course stuck in her head, and now she feels guilty because she basically broke that promise as the chance to die is rather high in the Survey Corps. In the end the prospect of helping humanity with joining the Survey Corps convinced her. She thinks if she's able to kill titans until her death, she'd really revenge her brother after all.

Relationships Close Friends: Sasha, Marco, Jean Friends: Armin, Reiner, Connie

Annemarie Hoffmann: Ida gets along well with her mother. When Ida was younger and used to have stupid ideas a lot her mother would often get mad at her but that never lasted very long. Since Ida's father died early, it was her mothers job alone to raise Ida and her brother, so they grew really close. Ida is glad to know her mother is save, though her mother isn't really fond of the idea that Ida chose to join the Survey Corps, which would cause an argument whenever they see each other. Despite that, Ida loves her mother deeply.

Martin Hoffmann: Ida used to call him the 'world's best brother'. Martin always cheered Ida up when she was upset and often protected her from her mothers' chastize. He is also the reason Ida never cried again just because he told her once to never do it again after she once had started crying when her mother was mad at her. They had a very loving and caring relationship, even though he used to tease her rather often.

Sasha Braus: It was clear on day one the two of them would get along well. Ida was immediately on a wavelength with her and Sasha was the one who'd always manage to make Ida genuinely laugh. Ida thinks it's cute how much Sasha loves food, and she'd usually spend her time around her. With time they build such a strong friendship that they could understand each other without words - You can just look at them and immediately say the two of them are best friends.

Marco Bott: Whenever Ida talked to Marco, he reminded her of her deceased brother. He was as equally nice, caring, and so refreshing to be around that she liked him immediately and cared for him and he ended up being Ida's best friend, though their friendship wasn't as close as his and Jean's. Ida was very shocked when she found out he was dead, which also brought her close to the edge of crying, but since she wanted to fulfill her brother's wish, to never cry, she didn't. She does get sad whenever someone mentions him.

Jean Kirstein: Since Ida used to hang around with Marco, it wasn't preventable to also stumble upon Jean. His attitude immediately interested her and soon she found herself developing a crush on him. She never told him though, as she didn't wanted to destroy their friendship. Still, both of them have a close friendship which built with time (And patience, the two of them argued so often [about mostly stupid things] they lost count). She envies him greatly for his leader capability and does see him in a leading position some time in the future. She's almost always blushing when she talks to him though. After Marco's death, the two of them got even closer. They build each other up, often teasingly and rely on each other, though he does get angry with her often because her traits remind him of the ones he used to have.

rowan: thank you for submitting your oc to us! ida seems like a pretty simple and well-rounded oc. with all her qualities, comes her flaws so i can see she is pretty realistic and balanced.

there were a few things i thought didn't add up, so you are welcome to take my advice or not!

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 5)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4.1

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Cirilla and Geralt has gotten into a big fight. Thus, leading to you learning more about witchers and having a soft spot for his child of surprise.

Warnings: Angsty? Kinda? Cirilla's having an emotional breakdown. Geralt being one stern dad and kinda mean? Jaskier being talkative in the wrong times. You being confused at everything. Boner references? HAHAHAHAH.

Words: 5,600+

A/N: You're going to kind of hate Geralt on the next chapter. I can tell. Hehehe? Or maybe noooot? Next chapter will be interesting for me! I think? Heehee! There’s going to be plot hints as well on the next chapter! THANK YOUUUUUU! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Seeing the satisfaction of people smiling and humming to the food you cook was a great feeling for a person who loved cooking. Gratification would be an understatement for the feeling you were having as you've watched Ciri and Jaskier munch down on the viands you've poured your heart with.

As per usual, Geralt was only humming in satisfaction after all of his and Jaskier's attempt on making edible food. Sometimes it isn't, sometimes it is. But, most of the time; it was inedible to be eaten.

Ciri was moaning out her extreme satisfaction. Vigorously devouring the Fried Chicken like she had beeb famished for at least a year. Crumbs of the breading scattered all over her mouth and face as she scratched her forehead with the back of her soiled hand.

"How's the chicken, Ciri?"

Dishes clanging and food were being munched in the background. You swallowed your food first before asking the princess.

"Better than ever," she incoherently mumbled. Mouth filled with food as she slightly coughed from not chewing it well as she swallowed.

The bard seemed to have accepted the fact that Kolby was sitting on the far end of the kitchen, eyes twinkling for food to be thrown to him. Though, he was still being ignored by Jaskier as if he weren't in the room; probably just stingy and disturbed for his presence, "This soup is delightful!"

Jaskier waved the bone of his chicken in the air like a flag. Turning his head to look at Geralt who was silently eating his food with an apathetic expression of his that was normal for the man. "Geralt," the bard called out for the latter. "Hmm," the witcher tiredly hummed in response, "We need some ale! Please tell me you've bought one when we've last visited the marketplace,"

You've bit the tendons of your chicken. Kolby has caught your attention as he was staring out of hunger. Again. You've reached out for the grapes that sat in front of you and grabbed onto half the stem before snapping it. Throwing the fruit towards the Hirikka as it caught it with his adorable paws.

"Moop!" Kolby answered as a thank you. A very weird, high pitch sound that disturbed you at first when you heard his voice but slowly and surely getting the hang of hearing it when he was happy, sad, guilty or anything he feels.

"I've finished it all," Geralt mumbled after a second of swallowing his food.

"Oh, you drunkard!"

You've snapped your head at the bard, lower lip jutting out as you were deep in your thoughts. Your head turning as you studied your unfinished chicken.

"I can make one," you blurted out loud to Jaskier's interest, "I've studied culinary enough to make my own wine and beer or ale in this old time,"

His lips formed in an 'O' shape, entirely elated at the skills you've opted. A grin as wide as the Cheshire cat when he'd shook his head out of stupefaction.

"I am certainly wrong in calling you a rat," he gave you a boyish smile before looking at the ceilings; acting like he was talking to God, "You are one of the gods sent from above, Y/N!"

The witcher stopped chewing halfway to give you his attention before he carry on with his devouring and eyed the bard who was mischievously grinning at the bear of a man.

"Geralt here has his ears clapping because you know how to make ale," he gestured to Geralt with a newly taken chicken in the middle of the wooden table, "---now, we can seldomly visit the inns for our brotherly whereabouts or the brothels for your midnight pleasure with your whores---" the devious bard was cut off when Geralt breathed in deep and scolded him with a monotonous pitch. "Jaskier,"

Jaskier winked back at him, now moitioning for what was hidden below his pants; a hasty ridicule sent, "Don't want me stating the stiff of a bird howling out of its nest or your twig-n-berries because Y/N here has mentioned that she knows how to make ale!"

Jaskier was unaware of his hands that was flat on the table. With his fingers widely flattened and having spaces in between. He was utterly frightened when Geralt has brutally stabbed in between the spaces of it with a bread knife he never used; leaving Jaskier stammering like he'd been castrated.

"Ge--Geralt!"

You've gave them a double-take, blinking from Geralt's hostlity and his patience snapping out of a sudden. He was glaring at the bard but Jaskier was already swallowing his saliva and disgustingly coughing out bits of chicken and soup; leaving bits to spill on the sides of his mouth as he shockingly stared at the knife close to his fingers.

"Are they always slitting each other's throats?" you thought out loud, continuing your indulgement. The question sent to the Ashen princess.

"I'm afraid so," Cirilla shrugged as a matter of fact; ignoring Geralt's patience suddenly snapping; like it was their normal.

Cirilla has studied your clothes as you sat and ate silently. The both of you ignoring Jaskier's complaints about how Geralt was close to stabbing his fingers that give people; out of this world epics. It was the fingers that holds a lute which can change the witcher's name and the world. The bard continued raving out as Geralt resumed eating silently with Jaskier bombarding his peace.

"Y/N?" The pretty child called out of curiosity, "---You need clothes!" she continued with a point to your clothing. Her nose scrunching in distaste, "---Proper clothes and not ginormous clothes from Geralt,"

From the mention of his name, the man himself glanced at your direction and scooped the last drop of his soup; eyeing you both in wonder.

"We need to visit Babeth again! I want to buy Y/N a dress," Cirilla gave her best pleading eyes. The meaning of her words have another meaning as well. She probably also wanted to play with some teens she could meet out in the marketplace or if she could play with her best friend named 'Ethelia' whenever they had their weekly visit.

You responded rather hurriedly, shaking your head as you've finished your last piece of chicken; chewing the skin as you left it for your last bite to thoroughly satiate the taste, "Oh, you don't have to because I don't like dresses---"

The princess pouted before you, currently dismayed by your response, "But, you can't leave the house with just Geralt's under-Tunic! People will be looking at you strangely! Very out of the ordinary compared to the women wearing thick, warm dresses," she explained with that puppy eyes she'd been an expert in.

Cirilla was drinking her soup from the rim of the bowl in haste before dropping it with a thud. She leaned her elbows on the table, her eyes twinkling with hope as she gave Geralt the look that gets him to always say yes; all the darn time.

He didn't hate it with Cirilla. The Witcher hated it whenever it was you because he didn't think he would ever get to not say no to another person like a child with puppy eyes. What was even worse was that you weren't even a child and you were having your way that he'd even agreed on having a Hirikka in his home just like a pet.

Perhaps, he was actually short of a marble.

"Can we go to the marketplace and visit Babeth please, Geralt? You've earned enough coins to build this small house! I wanna buy Y/N clothes to wear and make her feel comfortable," she exclaimed eagerly like a child wanting for a field trip.

Geralt gave her a languid blink before studying you who sat beside Cirilla. You've given him a smile when your eyes connected; feeling all tingly on the inside. That overwhelming warmth that makes your face feel mellow with tingly insides.

The Witcher only hummed with an impassive appearance. Last time, they've gotten the chance to visit the marketplace; Jaskier was drunk and had to bed a seller in exchange for a tunic he wanted or maybe he'd just wanted her after letting a man who he had his eyes on and is as youthful as him; run away with a knight who had been drinking back in the tavern. He was probably frustrated and glum after what has happened.

Albreda was beautiful and as sexy as a fox. So, it was also a win-win situation for the bard despite of how he lost to a knight from the castle of Kaedwan. In comparison, what can his lute even do to a sword?

The young princess notice Geralt's neutral response. Never knowing if it was a yes or a big no. She puffed out a breath; slipping her fingers under her thighs as she sat on her chair when she'd hollered for the bard's attention, making him snap out of his prattles, "Jaskier, please tell Geralt that Y/N needs a set of normal clothes for her to wear!"

You smiled; completely unnerving as you wanted to repeal from the offer at hand. Jaskier gave out a hum and a quick nod was simultaneously sent when he did as he dropped the empty bone on his plate with a loud cling. "Alright, alright. I'll give a quarter of coins for Y/N,"

"See! Jaskier approves!"

The quiet witcher bluntly spoke with a rasp after he drank his water; glowering as he drank from his cup, "He doesn't even have the coins to buy his own tunic,"

Jaskier looked at him; faking the offence. Geralt gave him a shrug of his shoulders and a cocky slant of his head from the reaction.

The bard ignored the reiteration; which was a first time for everything and leaned forward on his chair, folding his arms as it rested on the table. Remembering an offer brought to him by one of the villagers back in Durriken's Tavern, "---I've heard the villagers asking for a witcher's help again,"

Jaskier clicked his tongue as he pondered, the crease of his forehead growing deeper in thought, "---Preferrably the butcher of Blaviken," pause. "The first hunt that they wanted was a Bloedzuiger, this was offered by Babeth herself because her husband has seen one in the swamps," he gestured with his index finger pointing on the ceiling like an 'you know' gesture.

Thus, the bard gestured with an 'a-okay' sign with his fingers like he was pertaining to coins as he explained further, "---Second is an Echinops with a lot more coins involved, considering the stories; it is said that its difficult to slay because it can only be seen in places where crimes have been committed or the graves of the dead. But, this was offered near Vizima. Thoroughly far. We have yet to travel,"

You had no idea what they were saying. Your narrowed eyes says so as you stared at them both. A what? you thought inside your head. A bulldozer? Itchynuts? What is it that Geralt does in his everyday life? Does he really slaughter beasts as a job like it was normal in their world?

You were completely an embodiment of curiosity and bafflement. There was a lot of knowledge that has entered your brain since that night but it seems like it wasn't enough. You needed more idea as to what was running in their world. Sad to say, the monsters were even running freely for Geralt who seemed to be needed for a kill.

Cirilla had a frown twisting her face. She'd exhaled; loud enough for the three of you to look at her as she called out for the man who sat across from her. "Geralt," and the witcher only gave a hum as a response. He knew what she was going to say and Jaskier's timing was the worst thing in the world that could happen.

"You're going? Again? I thought you were going to leave the beasts alone when you've realized that people are more evil instead?"

The latter couldn't help but give Jaskier the nastiest scowl he could offer. If anything, he wanted to throw Jaskier in a lake full of bathing Hirikkas to scare the shit out of him.

Geralt sat back on his chair as it creaked, his golden eyes complimenting his chalky white hair that fell on his shoulders in a dazzling way ever. He shook his head to her disdain, "I can't let people be killed by these beasts," his jaw clenched as a frown was etching to grow on his face, "They need my help,"

The blue eyed child was sending daggers to the witcher and you watched them both share scowls at each other from the sudden plan that uncoiled from the moment Jaskier opened his damn mouth.

"I thought you didn't want anyone needing you?" Cirilla simmered as a matter of fact as she crossed her arms.

Geralt could hear the parsimonous tone she'd kept up, making him seeth and his teeth grit as he sent another one of his tight scowls, "Then, why are you here?"

Cirilla loudly huffed to herself, snapping her gaze away from the latter. He sighed a big one, shaking his head again from the argument that is happening. "You're just worried, Princess." he nonchalantly uttered as he blinked and looked away, sounding so tired from everything.

"Of course, I am!" Cirilla suddenly fumed, voice turning a pitch higher than she intended to.

Jaskier raised his hand up after a minute of pure silence. Except for the loud sighs that both parties have been emitting. The bard cleared his throat for emphasis and both snapped their heads to look at him.

"Besides, he'd never stopped, Princess Cirilla," The man who has started the fight, declared like it would help the situation. But, no. It definitely just worsened and it made Geralt send him laser  through his eyes.

A continuous set of rapid blinking happened to you at the words spoken by Jaskier himself. An inquisitive look needing quick answers given to the child sat beside you. "Y-You're a princess? Like a real princess? It's not just an endearment or something?"

"Cirilla is the princess of Cintra," the bard commented, answering your question in haste. You swallowed a lump in your throat, fingers scratching your temple when you wondered how it was possible. It is, in their kingdom and according to their time line, their era would be filled with royal empires or a hierarchy of the royal kingdom, "You mean, a kingdom? A huge kingdom? Like the daughter of a president?"

Nobody answered you at that. With Cirilla still glaring at Geralt and Jaskier looking at you weirdly by what you were blabbering about; trying so deeply to understand you.

Thus, it was as if all clouds started form; a sight of the princess breaking as it could be seen through the windows of her soul. You've took a glimpse of her and that tiny quiver of her lips and cheeks signified a little girl who was terrified of a future that was meant for her, "Why must you lie to me, Geralt?" she whispered, voice breaking as she swallowed and fought back the tears.

Your heart fell for the girl who seemed to be in an emotional battle with herself. It was like you see yourself in her. The fear that consumes her as if she had been all alone, scared and with nobody to ask for help.

She was a broken child. Emotionally.

At the sight of her tear-threatening face. Geralt gritted his teeth, whisper cusses to himself as he saw how he'd upsetted her again and so, his voice tried to soften; be a little more considerate from where she was coming from, "I had to, Princess. You wouldn't have let me go day by day if you knew where I was going," he paused, crossing his sturdy arms as he reasoned, "---besides, where was I getting food every day for us when I don't get to slaughter beasts?"

Cirilla's expression died down a little bit, her heart thumping out of her chest as she tried to dig in to her memories. There was riches under her bed back in Cintra, she remembered. "Grandmother has left gold under my bed, located in a big, brown, treasure box---"

Geralt immediately cut her off, gruffly but calmly spilling the beans for the tenth time for his whole life, "Nilfgaard has already looted the whole castle," his voice sounded stern as he uttered with no remorse; constantly reminding the princess of the truth and letting her understand, "---When I told you there was no going back, I wasn't lying."

You've tried to hold her hand that was tightly fisted across the table, yet you were too slow as she instantaneously stood on her chair with a tight-fitting frown on her face, "We leave tomorrow morning," Geralt declared as he watched her storm out the kitchen slash dining. The door being shut closed; loud enough for the trees to shake as the witcher seemed unfazed by her tantrums and sadness, "I'll give the princess what she wants, in repayment for my mistakes,"

After the accidental argument that Jaskier has made, it was already night time when both parties didn't seem to want nor have the plan to talk to each other like what they always do.

Geralt was out and nowhere to be found, with his horse as you've checked. A sudden want to ask him what happened and what it was about for you to be less of an idiot around the house and Jaskier finally regretting his mouth that ran with no thinking. The princess stayed in her chambers for seven hours already. There was no clock, but you've guessed by the evening twilight. Still, no response from the princess after an hour of convincing her it was time to eat dinner with a dessert of steamed chocolate cake you've managed to make through scrapes that you've specially created for her.

Both you and Jaskier were in front of her door, knocking repeatedly as the bard tried to woo her out of her bed. "Princess Cirilla?" he professed with a tone close enough to be considered as singing.

Seconds later, you've heard a faint yell from beneath the covers, "Leave me alone, Bard!"

The both of you sighed from her stubborness. They were both pretty obstinate; Geralt and Cirilla. You massaged your temples, eyeing the bard who had his ears flat against the door, trying to listen what was happening behind it. "Why is she mad?" it was a soft whisper that could only get Jaskier to hear. The bard shrugged, blinking back at you.

"Because," his sentence was vague, igniting a tight-lipped lour from you; totally unsatisfied by the information that was said.

He'd look at you with a faultless glint of his eyes, wondering what you were waiting for as he said his explainations as to why Cirilla was mad at the witcher. The bard sighed when you've continued to look at him lackadaisically and so he decided it was best to give a proper answer, "Geralt's been the...only one protecting her," he dubiously and quietly whispered, not giving away all the information yet.

Your frown grew tighter, cocking your head as you pondered, "---From what?"

"The people who want her as dead as a door nail," Jaskier stepped away from the door, his voice turning lower if that was even possible for Cirilla not to hear.

Shock was evident in your features. The details sounding like a bellicose. It was difficult to comprehend that somebody wanted to kill a kid who doesn't cause any harm. Or that was what you thought from what you've observed since the day you were with them. She seemed normal and harmless.

"I don't understand?" you trailed off and shake your head in a perplexed manner, "---Isn't she his child? It's obvious that he would protect her with all his life. Besides, where's the...mom?"

The mother. You were sure Cirilla was Geralt's child based on how protective he was with her. He acts like a father towards the princess. Was his wife the queen? you thought and tried to think of how the family tree works.

The bard narrowed his eyes at you; crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on Cirilla's door with that smirk appearing on his face, "She isn't his child. She's his child of surprise,"

Your face warped into pure confusion, feeling the back of your head twitch because of how muddlesome it sounded, "Nani?! (What?!)"

From how weirder their facts get, the more you didn't even know that your words become incoherent. Jaskier eyed you like you've evolved into a Hirikka and gave you a shrug, asking you 'what?' with that weirdest expression he could create.

Your lips twitched into a small smile before it fell; realizing what he meant, "So, an illegitimate child? Where's the mom?"

The idea of continuously asking where her mother is; gave another meaning for the bard and even to yourself as well. You wanted to cringe so hard as your mouth couldn't stop itself from the utterance of your interest and the cat would be killed if Jaskier would've told you that there was actually a mom and they were a happy family.

You didn't know why your heart was feeling that way. Very intrigued by the witcher's life and not just from his marriage status but by how he or they lived in an era like this.

An era full of singularities compared to your dimension. The question is, how will you live if you couldn't get home as soon as possible? With dragons, beasts, vampires, mages or sorceress freely walking around their dimension would be your end.

Jaskier groaned to himself, his eyes rolling from your naivety and being blind over the fact that the child already has no progenitrix. "THERE'S NO MOTHER!" he whisper-yelled with another groan as he held his forehead because of how he was trying his hardest not to spit any more details that could get you in danger, "---I'm starting to think that you just want to know if Geralt has a missus or not!"

You opened your mouth and eventually dropped it like a gold fish. The grin on Jaskier's face tells he was happy to have seen you taken a bit of karma from the commotion you've brought since the tamed Hirikka came. As you've seen the perversity in his eyes, you were sure you wanted to defend yourself from being misunderstood. That is, if you really didn't meant that.

"I'm--I'm not!" a simple stumble over your own words was enough for Jaskier's grin to grow bigger. The bard loudly chuckled to his felicity at your little crush for the witcher. His guesses were correct then. Well, it always does. Damsels, maidens, princesses and even sorceresses had an eye for his beast-slaughtering friend. Even he so, could prove that Geralt was a handsome, dashing witcher despite of his quiet and grumpy attitude at times.

It definitely adds that 'oohmph' effect for Geralt Of Rivia.

"To answer your undying curiosity, He doesn't have a consort or a lover, understand?!" Jaskier tried to heartened. You crossed your arms like a snob and a fierce glare. The latter's laugh died down as he held onto his stomach, "Besides, It's...kind of knackering to explain,"

The latter gave you a shrug, mouth jutting in a pout with a raised brow, "If you wanna be mother hen to the child, then go ahead. She already had her tantrums last month and it didn't end well for me," he cocked his head to the side and stared out of nowhere then suddenly shaking his head to erase the thoughts when he added, "---I had a bruise on the forehead because she threw a block of wood at Geralt and it bounced on me,"

Jaskier moved away from the door, patting his clothes in attempt to dust away the dirt that didn't seem to be seen. He was actually brushing off the negativity that was happening, "Just...don't make her scream or annoy her any less,"

His warning made you question in interest, "What? Why?"

"You'll die," Jaskier was quick to answer like it was nothing. He grabbed onto his lute that rested upon a wall and inserted the hoop around his shoulders. You watched him strum, "You're joking,"

"A bard makes epics! Not jokes!" he gave you a once over with that smile of his, before ambling away from you and towards the door out of the house. Kolby was crouched on the side as he eyed the bard with curiosity. "Well, seldom, I do...or maybe all the time?" was the only words he mutter before leaving the house and probably plan on giving you both the time alone; believing that you could simmer Cirilla's anger rather than him.

You've exhaled an exasperated breath, staring at the Hirikka who was guiltlessly eyeing you with no animosity.

With one swift turn of your heel, you were face to face towards the door to her room, "Cirilla?" you softly knocked; knowing that she'd heard Jaskier leave. So, it was better because she seemed to not like him knocking on her door, "---Kolby wants to play, would you like to play with us?"

A loud, squeaky sound echoed around the house made by the Hirikka himself as he heard his name from your lips. Thus, you've heard the lock to her door being pulled, alarming you that it was already unlocked and so, you've gently pushed the door open; a quarter of your foot already in her room, "Can I..come in?" you hesitatingly asked. No answer was given so maybe that was a yes.

You stood in the middle of her room. It was plain and definitely dull. All dirt-brown with white sheets like it wasn't a teenager who was resting in her chambers. The room needed a woman's touch and creativity. If you'll last longer in their dimension, then there was no problem because you could help her make her room more cozy and sweet.

She was covered in sheets, obviously not wanting visitors as she was curled away from the door. A typical reaction of a child who was upset about things.

You slowly sat on her bed, making Cirilla turn till she was facing the bulbless ceiling with the sheets covering her face. Only a candle on her bed side table was the only thing giving you light as the day was already night, "What's the matter?"

A harsh breath was heard under the covers; puffing out frustratingly, "Geralt lied to me," she glumly whispered like a secret was being told. You shifted on the bed and laid your back on the bed post, "About?"

Cirilla took a peek under her covers and there you saw those pretty blue eyes gazing back at you with sadness, "---Slaying beasts. Again. I thought he stopped,"

You've crossed your legs like a pretzel; giving her a soft smile and faze of your eyes that could comfort her, "But, isn't that what he always do?" pause.

People have been saying that like it was his job. It was like he was born for that kind of thing; killing beasts and what if's. Thus, you respect it especially that you didn't live in their world and you don't have the right to judge people for what they do to survive with life.

"He is a witcher," you added softly, trying to sound reasonable and for her anger to pass.

Arguments lead to disappointments. Hence, it always only leaves people upset and for their hearts to turn gloomy. You were never a fan of it, as fights just makes you want to cry. As per usual. Growing up sensitive was a pain in the ass because sometimes; with just one loud retort or yell could get you sobbing like a child because you were hurt.

No wonder Cirilla was wailing beneath the covers. There were hints of redness amongst the sea of her eyes and you wouldn't notice it when you didn't have stared.

The princess of Cintra hurriedly sat on her bed, making you slightly bounce at the action. You watch her forehead crease a lot more than it ever does, her eyes now fixated on the candle on her bed side table, watching how the flames sway their bodies like they were dancing under the moonlight, "Witchers encounter all types of beasts. Poisonous, lethal or the uttermost dangerous creatures you can ever meet,"

"You're worried he'd die in a battle," you stated the obvious and nodded in understanding.

Cirilla snapped out from staring at the candle for far too long, giving you a once over as she weakly spoke, "You've never seen him in a real fight," she stated as a matter of fact. You clicked your tongue as you thoroughly tried to remember, "He'd kill an Alghoul?"

At long last, the princess gave a smile as she acknowledged your non-existent ideas about what a real witcher is, "That's just a novice type of beast, Y/N." pause. "---Geralt has encountered more than that. Dragons, werewolves, sirens, archgriffins and more. You name it, he can slaughter them all," Cirilla stated with that certain confidence she had for the only person protecting her through it all.

After a second of cogitating; she'd voiced out, "---Even people, Y/N. If he protects you, he protects you with all his life. He eliminates every beast that cause detriment to villages, if he is given a favor. That's what witchers are painfully trained for; to terminate beasts that inhabits our world,"

Only a shut of your mouth was given to the princess. Your smile falling as you continued to listen like a behaved school girl, and so she raved on to your further knowledge, "---He doesn't care what happens to him. Geralt is not any normal human you may know. He may appear like it, but no. He is disliked by a lot of people. Though, Some are not due to Jaskier's notable epics about him. Thanks to the annoying bard," she snorted after giving gratitude to Jaskier and his poems.

Her smile grew as she tried to lighten up the mood of the topic; even noticing how you were frowning beside her bed. She proceeded to give utter details about the man you've never have thought would experience that kind of future for him, "---He lives longer than any other human, has supernatural abilities and is trained to kill these beasts. He's a mutated human,"

Your mind was shook, heart feeling blue because of the backstory of what he is. There was actually an explanation as to why he was quiet most of the time; only uttering words when he wants to then his mood changes like a woman who has a period for two years straight. He rarely smiles, but when he does; it was as if the world was having multiple rainbows all at once whenever it happens.

He had a nightmare of a childhood probably.

You swallowed the tight knot forming your throat, still grasping at the new information like it wasn't real; that everything wasn't. Especially the way how your heart was left in somber when you should think about how you would go home and not about his past.

Your mind was in a mess. Only you could shut your mouth after hearing those news. You wanted to ask if those supernatural abilities consist of what Superman has and try to lighten up the mood; but you couldn't utter out a word and felt depressing because you've suddenly pop out of nowhere and added to Geralt's problems.

Cirilla secretly inspected your reactions and you were frowning. A new sight for her to see as she was used to seeing you smile all the time: that happy-go-lucky aura you had drawn her into liking you as a member of the house just like Jaskier; or a family which Jaskier earned the spot.

She noted your silence as a go signal for her to rant more, "---He's the only person who takes care of me. After all of my family who has died from the war,"

The war? a question popped inside your head and you've lately realized that it was said out loud for the princess to hear.

She dubiously nodded to your question, biting the insides of her cheeks as she opened herself like a book to you, "Cintra...it has been our kingdom," her voice faltered, growing softer and weaker; the topic appearing to be sensitive for the princess, yet she still continued with her big girl panties, "---Nilfgaard is a kingdom you don't want to encounter; especially the elves. They're still hunting us down,"

They were still being hunted. You wanted to say out loud but decided to keep your mouth shut for the sake of her because she sounded like she wanted to cry again.

Thus, her voice began to grow smaller. Cautious that she might be heard by anyone. She pulled her legs to her chest and slipped her arms under her thighs. Chin falling on her sheet-covered knees. A visible pout obvious to be seen and she appeared vulnerable, "---I'm scared because if Geralt dies, then there's no hope for me. Then, I'll be left...all alone, again." Cirilla's voice cracked, swallowing the cries and never letting it out as it has already been poured for the last seven hours.

Hence, her next words coming off as a whisper instead; like a child telling secrets to her teddy bear, "---with no one, Y/N. Because I have no other family except for Geralt and Jaskier. I don't want to be alone,"

The way she's said it broke your heart. She was just an abandoned child who was slapped with a harsh future for her. You couldn't help but feel more saddened especially when she'd pulled herself more to shape herself into a tighter ball.

You studied her form, a sincere smile traveling up your face as you don't try to let your emotions get to you better than she does. With open arms; you've offered, "Come here," Cirilla gave you a once over; hesitant of your actions, "You think you can give me a hug?"

Thus, the princess of Cintra knew that was all she needed. A genuine hug from a woman's touch that could get her temporarily forgetting the fears and trauma that has been ruining her mentality and continuously.

"A beautiful destiny is always masked with an unbearable truth and thus waiting for a price to pay,"

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