#oh and with the second last point they agreed on no magic for this - other than loki's shapeshifting

[vaguely-concerned]

My two cents on how much of Mind!Varric is Rook’s mind trying to fill the blank space and how much is Solas actively talking through a convenient blood magic paper doll of the mind: I think it's a mix of both, a truly collaborative psychosocial horrorshow if you would, but waaaay more towards the second. It feels too directed and tactical at times to be anything else. Rook's mind is willing to go along with the denial phase as far as it can fucking carry them to not have to face the grief and regret and does its part in papering over details that don’t make any sense, the way brains will strive to create coherent meaning even out of deeply confusing input, but to my understanding it's a collaborateur in how that plays out, not the instigator or control center. Solas is using it as a path to agency and to gather insight into Rook as a person unguarded as he can't count on in his own guise. (That stoic option that leads to him being like 'oh I see you're cautiously denying me access to your inner life. well. at least you still have Varric to talk to. y'know as an outlet :)'. You absolute BITCH Solas! That alone convinced me that he HAS to have an active hand in it on some level.)

My guess is that it takes considerable effort on Solas’ part to make Mind!Varric do anything more involved or complicated than seeming to sit up in bed and give casual commentary, and that’s why he keeps having eerie five minute shallow pep talks with you before he announces he conveniently needs a nap aaanyway good luck kid you got this haha. When he’s just spouting NPC lines from his bedrest, I’m ready to believe that could be Rook’s mind being allowed to improv lines for him more freely because it’s less about Solas trying to get something out of them or working an angle and more ‘Still here! Still totally alive and fine and the mentor figure you know and love and trust :) don’t even worry about it! Thankfully there is no war in Ba Sing Sei, as we all know’ upkeep work lol. Rook’s mind is allowed to set the tone of Varric, the outlines, but not always the content. 

AND, on a (beautifully fucked up) character psychology level, I feel like Solas is indulging in actually getting to be the good supportive mentor figure to Rook with one hand to assuage the guilt he feels about what he's done -- and what he's going to do -- to them with the other. Same internal logic as he uses in Trespasser about the Qun. ‘Almost everyone is going to die from the course of action I’m doggedly pursuing eventually. But at least I can make their last years happier and freer and kinder than they would have been otherwise. and that kind of makes up for it right. a little bit. doesn't it. doesn't that make it better at least. I need that to make it better)'. Did I really take your beloved mentor and friend from you if you don’t know yet that I did? Some philosophers would argue not really! So it’s probably almost ok actually. Isn’t it even a little noble that I’m taking all this grief and guilt on myself and shielding you for now. With undertones that I’m not sure he would realize himself (and might be mortified by if he did) that he is so incredibly lonely, and even a dishonest and indirect emotional connection is more than nothing when you’re that desperate. In this setup he gets idk. Both the control he craves so incredibly badly in relationships and over himself, and the scraps, the fading afterimages, of intimacy and warmth and companionship, even second hand. The one thing Solas and Rook agree on deep deep down is that they really wish Varric weren't gone. They're handshake memeing this in the saddest and most creepy way possible.

I think an important element too is that Solas needs Rook and their team to *succeed* —  up to a certain point. He needs someone to hold the two other elven mean girls off until he can get out of here. Ideally, in a perfect world, even do all the hard work of killing them so he can swoop in at the end and do his thing when both sides are exhausted and out of resources to stop him, and then Bob’s your uncle! Same logic as he was using with Corypheus, and after that worked out so well, too! King of choosing to never learn from a single solitary mistake he’s ever made even though i fully believe he could have the capacity to Fen’Harel <3 The underlying idea isn’t flawed, you see, it was just unforeseen circumstances getting in the way. This time for sure it’ll all work out the way I cleverly imagined it in my head beforehand. Cue By Talos this can’t be happening etc. in the form of a statue almost crushing him like a bug. 

So he's providing guidance and forging Rook into a leader from two angles: one Rook might not trust, and one they probably will. Shaping them into what he needs slowly and carefully. He’s helping you hone your team into their most effective state, as he might have done with his own agents back in the day, setting up his chess pieces even if he has to squint through two glimpsed realities to do it haha. Pincer maneuver of an insidious stealth mentor you never asked for. Also… at one point mind Varric gives you a whole little monologue about how Solas' problem is that he’s always seen his interpersonal connections as flaws and see where it’s landed him, all alone and the worst part? it hasn’t even worked. it’s all been for nothing he’s back where he began with nothing to show for it but his mistakes. Like...that has such strong 'uh okay happy to play your therapist from two rooms away here what the fuck kind of traumadump is this' energy to me, I’m not sure Rook like. Thinks that much about Solas as a private person. So much of Solas' self-loathing and futile insights into his own flaws seem to shine through in Mind!Varric's dialogue all the time — I just can't believe that there's no guiding hand behind it as it were. 

Most of all. I feel like people underestimate the degree to which Solas is incredibly funny. As in, he has a very consistent and recognizable sense of humour. It’s one of my very favourite things about him. We must remember — it is crucial that we always keep in mind — Orlesian accent and wig Solas from May The Dread Wolf Take You (my beloved, the explanation for why I love this dude even with the. All of the everything else. No one does it quite like him). He is not at all above doing things or adding little flourishes for his own obscure amusement, in fact that seems to me to be one of his most consistent traits. The Randy Dowager Quarterly comment Varric has? The ‘Maybe this is the Dread Wolf’s revenge. Forcing us to house sit for him’ thing? To Me this is 100% Solas amusing himself in his boring Fade jail surrounded by the screaming hellscape of all his regrets. Source: it came to me as divine revelation through pure vibes trust me bro 

If nothing else I find it much more narratively interesting personally if the connection between Rook and Solas really is that defenselessly intimate and entwined (and so unbalanced!), and the sense of violation and invasion and betrayal afterwards consequently all the more nauseatingly intense. Even if you kept him at arm’s length in the open, he’s been under your skin the whole time, looking around, gathering what he needs to destroy you, wearing the face of a friend. Regretfully, probably, but choosing to do it every step of the way anyway. (Sound familiar, Inquisitor? Solas doesn’t have that many tricks when you actually look at it, he keeps returning to old tried and true ones like a dog with a bone haha.) Maybe he even genuinely meant some of it as mercy, which only makes it so much worse. It makes his sin against his own core principles of autonomy and the freedom of all beings in mind, spirit and body so much more juicily grave if it’s something he pursues actively and consistently, rather than it half-falling into his lap as a happy accident mainly orchestrated by Rook’s own subconscious. Solas, too, is at his very lowest point, the closest to giving in and becoming his own antithesis fully that he’s ever been, and it makes the choice of whether you still reach out your hand to him one last time or not all the more impactful and difficult.

[delusional-mushroom]

Aaravos x reader where reader is also a startouch elf who was Aaravos’s lover but got imprisoned at the same time he did but in a different prison so instead of trying to lead Claudia and Viren to his prison he’s insisting they save his lover (but in his own ‘No! You can’t do it on your own you need this elf’s help!’ To avoid revealing something that would break his mystery facade- maybe reader had like a pet that guards their last residence and Aaravos is just like ‘oh yeah, that’s just ___ he bites.’ Feel free to add some plot to this it’s just a lil scenario that poofed into mah brain hole.

🌟 anon

Oh hello 🌟 anon. Thanks for the request >:3

Side note: sorry this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end. I’d be happy to part two it if you guys want.

After Leola’s death, you and Aaravos shared your grief. When you had no more tears to cry, and the crater of her demise was full to the brim, you began plotting your revenge.

At first, everything was going great. No one suspected a thing.

But then, a human girl— A human girl, had the audacity to stick her nose into where it did not belong, and rat you two out to the arch dragons.

It all happened so fast, one moment Aaravos was shielding his lover from the onslaught of attacks; and then the next they were both enveloped in a crude, blinding light.

Your look of horror was the last thing he saw before he too was imprisoned.

The two of you were both granted a visage through intricate looking glasses, spared with only one shellshocked glance at each other before you were given to the arch dragon of ocean, Domina Profundis.

Every day, and every night, Aaravos cried in his prision.

First Leola, his kind and loving daughter, and now his spouse: the only thing he had left in this cruel world.

Everything seemed hopeless.

He might never hold you in his embrace.

You two might never see each other again.

That was until a middle-aged dark mage stumbled upon his looking glass. How it got from the clutches of Avizandum and Zubeia to the treasury of Katolis, he didn’t know. But old habits die hard, and Aaravos didn’t mind reusing some old tricks…

“Avizandum is dead.”

What…?

Avizandum, King Of The Dragons, the ringleader in his and his lover’s imprisonment. He was dead.

Aaravos felt a satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. Not only was this going to make his schemes easier, but hearing the news of his passing made Aaravos almost giddy with joy. Maybe he wasn’t the one to end Avizandum’s life, but knowing of his death was almost just as good.

Maybe this middle-aged, emotionally fragile man had potential. Maybe he would be a useful pawn.

Finally, after centuries in his prision, escape was within his grasp. He could leave this dreaded place. He could take revenge upon those wretched dragons and elves.

But in a final moment, he relented.

“No.”

“What do mean ‘no’? We’re this close to freeing you!” Claudia squawked indignantly, pinching her fingers together to emphasise her point.

“You need to free someone else first. Someone just as powerful, and just as essential to the plan.” Aaravos insisted, his ghost-like apparition pointing a finger to a second dot on the map.

“And who would that be?” Viren inquired, Raising and an eyebrow in suspicion.

The star touched elf resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His use for the old man was beginning to dwindle. “You will see when the time comes.”

Reluctantly, he managed to get Viren, Claudia, and Terry to agree, though the earthblood elf didn’t really put up much of an argument.

Roaring and ticketing sounded through the mountain where your prison was kept. Allegedly, the magic orb that contained you was imbedded into an ancient tree. In order to acquire it, the tree needed to be felled. Easy, right? Wrong.

The tree was guarded by a serpent-like dragon by the name of Mortem, who’s bite held enough venom to kill an archdragon.

“Don’t get bit.” Aaravos instructed.

He was so close to you. He could feel your energy radiating through the mountain.

And somehow, the earthblood elf managed to lead Mortem away and distract him long enough without getting bit for Claudia and Viren to cut down the tree and grab your prision.

The scrambled journey back down the mountain made his breath bait in anticipation. This was it. He was finally going to be able to see you again.

Once the ritual was complete, your giant form kneeled down to look the three mortals in the eye. Shrinking yourself down, his ghostly appearance caught your eye.

“Aaravos?” You ask incredulously.

“I’m here, beloved.”

I’m here…

[avocado-writing]

May I ask for a companions x Tav headcanons list were Tav loves to cook and see's it as a way to people's hearts?

Astarion

Obviously is sad he cannot partake more, as he sees how much effort and love you put into your cooking.

You make an effort to make richly-flavoured blood dishes he might enjoy, just for him! But everyone thinks it’s just a tad bit morbid (and he agrees) so won’t ask you to go out of your way for him.

“Besides darling, I prefer to sample straight from the source…”

One night you’ve just pressed some parsley leaves to your neck for flavouring for him. He laughs so hard he cries. This is the first time he realises he loves you.

Gale

Oh, the camp’s resident cook is delighted to have a sous-chef!

And then he realises oops, no, he is the sous-chef. At which point he’s just happy to sit and watch you work your magic.

Happy to make dinner in order to pull his weight in the group, but he’s entranced watching you do it, too. You’re a wizard with some knives and a saucepan.

He can feel the love you put into every bite. Always makes sure to go out of his way to compliment you, and loves the way you smile in return ❤️

Wyll

After spending so much time on the road, he’s so happy to be in the presence of a good cook.

With every bite will discuss the flavour palate of your dish, talking about what herbs he can taste, letting you know he appreciates your effort.

He’s not a brilliant chef himself but would love for you to teach him!

In return he saves up to buy you fancy chocolates from the best chocolatier in Baldur’s Gate. It’s the least you deserve, and the way you light up makes his heart beat fast.

Karlach

Whatever you make, she loves.

“Pasta? My favourite! Oh my god, we’re having steak? I love it! Rice tonight? Right on!!”

She doesn’t have a favourite food. Dishes in Avernus were not wide in range, so she’s just happy to eat some different meals for once.

You give her seconds and thirds and she eats them up, going on and on about what a good cook you are.

“You’re so amazing at this! I love you!”

Good thing she’s too engrossed in her food to notice how flustered you are…

Lae’zel

Reluctant to eat anything at first.

“I do not want your istik food. I shall provide for myself.”

But after a few days of smelling how good the food is that you cook, she gives in… still trying to pretend it’s beneath her.

You serve her a small portion to start with, then watch her eyes widen as she realises how delicious it tastes.

She is too proud to ask for more - and you’d not have her any other way - but you make sure to serve her big portions from then on. Her bowl is always scraped clean.

Shadowheart

Isn’t too sure on your cooking at first - she’s used to bland, tasteless meals at the temple - but quickly comes around.

The longer you’re together and the closer you become, the more she opens up about her favourite flavours. Eventually she starts making requests.

“There’s this sort of cake I vaguely remember… if I can get you the honey, could you make it for me?”

Of course you can. You sit down and share it, watching her eyes roll back in delight, the way she licks the crumbs off of her fingers. The two of you are enamoured with each other, but you still fight over the last slice.

[stormisblooming]

🎨 at last… my final riddle..

Can I request a muichiro x father figure! reader where the father is washing his hair for the first time… scrub scrub scrub

WAAAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Hey Dolly! I am going To kill you with a Bat! /a

Muichiro and a father figure; washing his hair for the first time!

contains; brief implications of Mui dissociating (it's one line), reader has a good knowledge of hair care, your honour they are found family

word count; 514

Mui… oh my baby boy Mui… My son whom I adore so

as a Hashira, Muichiro’s mind is often far too preoccupied to think too hard about self care, when he’s not spaced out of course.

however, no one grows their hair out that long without learning to take care of it at some point! Giyuu and Mitsuru have given him the hair care shakedown in the past and as a result his hair is for the post part fine — clean, but not particularly shiny or silky.

I think he has pretty thick hair too, so oftentimes washing it can feel like a bit of a chore…

is he going to cut it though? no, he actually quite likes his hair. it helps to have something to fiddle with when he’s looking in the mirror to remind him that the boy looking back at him is himself.

so when you, a fellow Hashira he’s found himself in a strange familial situation with, offer to wash his hair? he stares for a second in shock, then quite readily agrees.

(he gets excited to spend time together like he does with Tanjiro 🥺)

since joining the corps, he’s been the only one washing his hair — his mother always seemed to know what to do and she enjoyed doing it, so he would always just sit back and relax while she washed his hair… and he can’t help but think back to that time when the memories come back to him in a wave.

he sits in the bath almost limp as you gently rub his scalp and run the shampoo through his long hair, sat on a stool behind him with everything you need on the floor by your feet. it feels more like you’re talking at him than to him, but that’s only because he’s just so relaxed that he can’t think of much in the way of a response other than an occasional “mm…”

if his skull wasn’t in the way, he’d think you and your magic hands had turned his brain to mush.

once he’s out of the bath, you help him dry his hair and joke that you could use him as a mop with how long it was. he doesn’t say anything, but you do see a tiny smile in the mirror.

then, just before bed, you braid his hair to keep it safe while he sleeps and give him a cuddle before you leave to get ready for bed yourself. he hasn’t said much all evening, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t complain about doing this again.

Muichiro basically passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. the second you’re out the door, bang.

the next day, he notices just how many people compliment his hair and how nice it looks, how shiny it is. when he sees you again, he doesn’t mention it, but he does go to you for hair care advice from then on out — if you offer to wash his hair for him again when he does, he counts that as an absolute win!

please do not repost

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (see full series list here)

1995

You thought Professor Umbridge was a pain in the ass when she first started, but now you realise you were seeing her at her best, and you’re about to start facing her worst. 

It happens one night as you enter your classroom and greet your students, setting your things out on your desk before turning to them — and that’s when you spot her bright pink, woolly cardigan and the clipboard resting in her hand, quill at the ready. She looks expectantly at you, blinking and pursing her lips. 

You have to fight down the irritancy from showing on your face, and you give her a nod, gritting your teeth. “Professor Umbridge. I was not expecting you tonight.”

“I believe an inspection is most accurately performed when the teacher is not made previously aware of it,” she replies in that sickeningly sweet voice, smiling at you.

You resist the urge to wince.

She dips her quill in ink, positioning it over her clipboard. “Please, continue.”

You take a slow breath before gathering your papers in your hands and you move down through the rows of desks, handing essays back to students. You're just going to have to ignore her. “Now, your homework — I graded them to O.W.L. standard, just to give you a general idea about how the exams are marked. Don’t worry about what grade you got, I thought your essays were pretty good overall, and I’ve left you all some feedback at the end with a few tips and comments on how to improve them. If you have any questions, you can come up to me at the end of class.”

You wait for the chatter and comparison of grades to die down before waving your wand and quenching the candles around the room, plunging it into relative darkness. Umbridge lets out a surprised squeak and you can’t the small smile of satisfaction that tugs at your lips, unknown in the dark. Your students are used to this, of course, and are ready when you place your wand in the air again, making a circular motion and projecting a glittery star map above you. 

“You’ll all recognise this constellation, I hope…Pegasus,” you say, glancing as the students watch on with interest — using the telescopes and seeing pretty stars right in front of them like this tends to be the most favoured activities of your students — and you have to say you wholeheartedly agree with them. Umbridge glances up at you for a split-second before she scratches something down on her clipboard loudly. 

“Now sometimes it can be hard to identify the shape of this constellation, a winged-horse, but if you turn it this way…” Using your wand, you slowly rotate the map in a different direction before stopping. “You can see the vague outline of Pegasus’s head and two front legs. I actually wanted to bring this up because an amazing discovery was made by two Muggle astronomers just last week —”

“Hem.”

“—it’s astounding, really. 51 Pegasi, this star right here — “ you point to one of the glittery stars in the map, one that doesn’t stand out at all and looks practically the same to all the others, “ — it’s quite similar to our Sun, and 51 actually has a planet orbiting around it! That makes it the first sun-like star to possess a planet other than our own, and it was discovered by Muggles —” 

“Hem.”

“It’s incredible the way they found out, too — you see, it’s impossible to see from Earth, but these Swiss astronomers discovered it through a slight wobble in 51 Pegasi’s motion caused by the planet’s gravitational pull, and they did it all without magic —”

“Hem!”

You stop, your excited smile dropping as you look at the unsightly woman. What could she possibly have a problem with? You thought you were doing pretty well. 

“Is there a problem, Professor Umbridge?” 

“Oh, well…the Ministry does not usually condone the teaching of Muggle beliefs, we are all witches and wizards here, after all,” she says sweetly, smiling fakely at you. 

You chew on the flesh of your inside cheek, blinking back at her. “Yes, but Astronomy is the only subject that Muggles also study, and it’s a science — everything must be proved and well, a discovery is a discovery, no matter who makes it —”

Umbridge lets out an odd, patronising squeak and scratches something down on her clipboard. 

You watch her, nervous, and continue. “It’s fascinating, really, how it ties our worlds together — with magic we are so much more advanced than Muggles and yet they manage to come to new and different conclusions and revelations, all through hard work and time and — “

“Hm.”

You spend the rest of the lesson on edge, Umbridge taking everything you say as a mistake, total flaws in the way you teach, the way you’ve taught for the past fourteen years.

When the lesson is finally over, the students rush from the classroom and you rub your temples, sighing deeply. You glance up at Umbridge, who stands up and taps her clipboard thoughtfully, humming annoyingly. 

“How long have you been working at Hogwarts?” 

“Fourteen years,” you answer bluntly, turning your back on her and stacking papers loudly. 

She hums, clicking her tongue. “And what did you do before taking this position?” 

You stop what you're doing and slowly turn around to face her, meeting her beady eyes. “Why do you want to know that?” 

She shrugs, smiling tightly at you. “Just curious.” 

You bite your tongue, exhaling, looking into her cold eyes. “I don't see how that's of any concern to you, professor.” 

She hums, again, tapping her clipboard. “Most Aurors are quite secretive, even to Ministry officials.” 

You don't say anything. 

“You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days.”

She makes her way to the stairway, but before she begins her descent, she stops, looking at you once more. You glare back at her. 

“Albus Dumbledore may trust you, but I certainly do not. I know you're hiding something…or should I say, someone?” 

She smiles proudly, a satisfied squeak escaping her as she stares back at you. She's bluffing, you know it — there's absolutely no way she could know about Sirius. She’s just pinning the blame on you, of course, like they all do. 

Despite knowing this, you can't stop the way your heart rate picks up, a sick feeling rutting through your body. 

You glare daggers at her, arms folded tightly across your chest.

“I have nothing to hide.” 

“Hm.” She flips a page on her clipboard. “We’ll see about that.” 

You listen to her distinctive pink heels click-clack down the stairs, echoing around the tower, and grate your teeth. 

So, if you thought you hated her before, you weren't even close to what you're feeling now. 

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

October, 1975 

“Okay, you stir it…and then it should go a pearly kind of colour…” 

Lily picks up the metal stirrer and carefully stirs your brewing potion, and you breathe a sigh of relief when it gains a pearl sheen and fumes emanate from it in spirals. 

You clap excitedly. “Perfect!” 

Lily beams back at you. 

“Okay, okay, let me see what I smell…” you say giddily, leaning in closer to the cauldron and inhaling a breath of the fumes. 

Fresh parchment, tea leaves, leather, rich cologne and…cigarette smoke? 

You pull back in horror, bringing a hand to your mouth. There’s only one person that comes to mind with that combination of scents: Sirius. But that’s not right, you know that’s not right, because this potion shows a person’s deepest desires, and though from time to time you find him attractive, and from time to time you might just entertain the idea of dating him — he’s far from being your deepest desire. Completely preposterous.

Lily gives you a concerned look. “What? What's wrong?” 

You stand further away from the cauldron, breathing out of your mouth and shaking your head. “Nothing.” 

She laughs lightly, waving you off. “Oh, you're just surprised at yourself. It's completely accurate, you know — “ 

She leans forward and sniffs, and a second later her face drops and she jerks back, looking like she’s about to be sick. She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Well, we clearly prepared it wrong. That's entirely inaccurate.” 

Slughorn appears at your desk, looking into your potion. He dips a spoon into it and raises it high above the cauldron, tipping it over and watching as the liquid drips back into the potion. He nods in approval, smiling at you and Lily. 

“Perfect. Couldn't fault it!” He grins, waddling away to check another pair. 

You stare after him, jaw dropped. You turn to Lily, her expression a perfect mirror of your own. “Uh…”

“Definitely brewed wrong.” 

“Definitely.” 

“Couldn't possibly be correct.” 

“Never.” 

“I'm not going to tell you, uh, what I smelled, by the way — just because it's entirely wrong and would only confuse things.” 

“Oh yeah, me neither, must be someone else’s potion fumes drifting over to our desk…”

You quickly flick through your potions book, reading down through the recipe. Absolutely wrong, that’s for sure. You must’ve messed the potion up somewhere, maybe you stirred it clockwise when it was supposed to be anti-clockwise…Slughorn is pretty barmy, too, he probably just got confused when he said it was perfect…

“Lily, darling, let me guess what you smelled…me?” James suddenly pops up in front of your desk — you have to give him credit for it, he has a knack for sneaking up on people and taking them by surprise — and grins at Lily, running a hand through his hair to muss it up. 

“NO!” She shrieks hysterically, grabbing the bottom of the cauldron and yanking it closer towards her as if to shield it from James. “Just go away, James!”

Her chest heaves with distress and you softly place your hand on her back. James’ eyes widen and he frowns, hurt flashing across his face. 

“I — I’m sorry, Lily, I didn’t mean to upset you —”

You look past James at Sirius, who is standing with his arms folded beside his cauldron, a confused look on his face. 

“Sirius, please take James back,” you call with a sigh, and he turns around to look at you. Did he do something different with his hair today? It looks different. Why are you just now noticing how lovely his hair is? Is it soft? It looks soft. Why do you feel an intense urge to reach out and pull that stray lock of hair out of his eyes? 

“Happy to.” 

You shake yourself out of your stupid stupor, and push James towards his awaiting friend. As your arm passes by Sirius’ face, he stops and his eyes go wide.

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeah, why?” 

He stares back at you for a moment, an odd look on his face, and swallows thickly. “Where did you get it?”

You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him. “What, do you want a bottle? My grandmother gave it to me, she makes homemade perfume in her spare time.” 

He kisses his teeth. “Huh.” 

He grabs James by the sleeve and drags him back to their desk, before proceeding to gulp down a bottle of water in seconds, tapping his foot. 

You give Lily a look. “What was that about?”

She shrugs, grinning at you. “Maybe he smelled your perfume in the cauldron.”

You snort, throwing your books into your bag. “Yeah, right.”

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

One evening you’re dangling a length of string in front of Dubh with your wand, watching as she joyfully bats at it with her paws, mesmerized by its movements, when there’s a knock at your office door. You drop the string on the floor at Dubh’s feet and she rolls around beside it, trying to clasp the thin string between her paws. Much harder than it looks, apparently. You sigh, smoothing down your jeans as you stand and glance in the mirror quickly — looks presentable enough. You can only pray and hope it’s not Umbridge. 

Thankfully, when you open the door, it’s not the squashed face of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor you’re met with, but Harry, Hermione, and Ron. 

“Oh, hello.” You smile at them, opening the door wider for them to enter. “Come in.”

You sit back down at your desk, fetching a packet of biscuits from the drawer and setting it in front of them as they each draw up chairs and sit down. Dubh rubs against Hermione, purring, and the girl smiles and gently pulls her up into her lap, petting her. 

“I’d ask if you’re just here to see your favourite teacher but I can tell by your faces that you want to ask me for something,” you say. “Go on, what is it?” 

The trio glance at each other for confirmation, and Hermione clears her throat. “Well, um, we told you about Professor Umbridge refusing to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts properly.”

You nod. 

“And we decided to take matters into our own hands and learn it ourselves.” Hermione looks at Harry before continuing, “We’ve formed an association, the Defense Association — and we need somewhere to practice spells. Harry’s going to teach us.”

“And you want my help finding you somewhere away from Umbridge?”

“We were thinking maybe we could use your classroom,” Ron suggests. 

You think for a moment, before shaking your head. “Sorry, but if Umbridge found out I gave you permission to use my classroom for an illegal society she’d have me sacked in an instant. No, no, you’ll have to find somewhere more secretive…”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of all the secret passages and rooms you learned of when you were a student. “There’s a secret room hidden behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you know, it might be big enough to practice a few jinxes — how many people are in this thing?”

“Twenty-eight,” Hermione answers, and you blow a whistle of air out your nose. Lot more than you expected.

“Sirius suggested that room too,” Harry says with a small chuckle. “But Fred and George said it caved in or something.”

“Sirius?” You repeat instantly. “You were talking to him?” 

Harry gives you a confused look. “Yeah, last night. You weren’t?”

Though you know it’s petty, you feel a flash of jealousy and hurt prick your chest. Sirius talked to them, and not you? 

“No, I — I didn’t. How did you —”

“Fireplace.” 

“Oh.” You frown. “He never changes, always loves to take the risk—” You sigh. “He’ll get himself caught one of these days.”

“Uh…”

You look at the kids. They’re glancing at each other nervously, expressions grim. 

“What happened?” you ask quietly. 

“It was Umbridge,” Harry replies, swallowing. “She knew he was there — her hand appeared in the fire.”

You breathe deeply, the room silent as you stare at the chipping wood of your desk. That explains what happened.

“So that’s why she tried to break into my office last night?”

“What?”

You nod, feeling sick to your stomach. “I was with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, we had a game of cards in Minerva’s office…and when I came back here afterwards, someone had been trying to lift the enchantments on my lock — it’s charmed to glow red when someone tries to enter without the key. I thought it might’ve been her, but it also could have been anyone — students get bored, it happens, I understand…”

“So she thinks it was you he was talking to?” Ron asks. 

“Of course she does,” you say with a sigh, drumming your fingers on the desk. “Who else would she think? I haven’t talked to Sirius since we left London — it’s far too dangerous. You — you just have to be careful, alright? She won’t be able to do anything to you unless she catches you red-handed…but even the smallest hint of Sirius around the castle and she’ll come for my head. I’m lucky I wasn’t alone last night and the teachers can vouch for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets her hands on some Veritaserum.” 

You’ve had so much of the substance that at this point you think you might have a tolerance built up against it — but you’re not keen on testing that idea in front of Umbridge. 

Harry has a guilty look on his face. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”

You wave him off, chuckling bitterly. “Not your fault at all, Harry. Sirius should know better — but I don’t blame him either. He’s not having a good time stuck there while we’re all here. Besides, you think I’m not used to the Ministry watching my every move? They’re quite obsessed with me — it’s almost flattering.”

You click your tongue. 

“I like your idea, by the way. The Defense Association,” you say, smiling. “It’s very brave. But you seriously have to be careful with this.  I have a feeling that woman will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants — and she wants complete control over every little thing you do, over this whole school. Don’t give her any more reasons to take away the things that make your time at Hogwarts enjoyable.”

You pluck a biscuit from the open packet on your desk, pushing it towards them. “Biscuit?”

Hermione politely refuses and Harry and Ron both reach forward to take one. The sleeve of Harry’s robe falls as he moves his arm, revealing the skin of his right hand, which is red and seems to bear several scratches. He quickly drops his hand and pulls his sleeve over it. 

“Harry? What happened to your hand?” 

He looks at you, holding up his left hand for you to see. “Huh? It’s fine.” 

“Your other hand.”

Hermione and Ron seem to hold their breath, looking at Harry, nervous looks on their faces. 

Harry shrugs. “Nothing. Crookshanks scratched me.” He suddenly stands up from his chair, sharing glances with his friends. “We should probably get going, homework to do, you know — “

“Harry,” you say seriously. “Don’t try to lie to me. What’s happened?” 

“I told you, it’s fine.”

“If it was really fine you’d let me have a look —”

“We need to go.”

“No, Harry, tell me —”

They turn to leave and you reach out and grab onto his arm, but he instantly wrenches free of your grasp and twists away from you. 

“It’s FINE.”

He glares at you and storms out of the room. Hermione and Ron watch as he goes, the room utterly silent. You feel absolutely horrible — he looked at you like he hates you. You shouldn’t have pushed him so far, but you knew he was lying, and if it was nothing to worry about why would he lie? 

“Harry!” Ron rushes after him, hurrying out of the room, leaving you with Hermione. 

She gives you an apologetic look. “I - I’m sorry, professor, I’ll go check on him — “

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You sigh, shaking your head. “My fault, I shouldn’t have pressured him like that…” you open your desk drawer and pull out a small bottle, handing it to Hermione. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. Make sure he puts this on it, it’s a salve. And I have a feeling he’s going to avoid me now for a good while…tell him I’m sorry. Goodnight, Hermione.”

When you were younger, you found it hard to decide on what career to go into. You adored astronomy, of course, but you also wanted to help people — something like a healer, perhaps. And then there was another part of you that loved Quidditch and commentating at the school games, maybe you could’ve gone into entertainment like Ludo Bagman. You used to pore over sports magazines and argue with James over who supported the better team — you the Chudley Cannons and James the Holyhead Harpies. 

But when Voldemort started to really gain more power, and the death counts were ticking up in the papers, you forgot all of that and put your efforts towards becoming an Auror. It was a choice between living in constant fear at home, or going out and turning that fear into something else — and becoming someone that the Death Eaters were afraid of. 

You would never have thought you’d be here teaching at Hogwarts. And though it may not sound exciting, every day is different.

And you still get to watch Quidditch matches — even if the latest match between Gryffindor and Slytherin has turned into a brawl. Really, it happens quite often, though you’re not too chuffed to see Harry in the middle of it, landing a blow against Draco Malfoy. Fred and George too, one of them sporting a particularly nasty split lip. Minerva and several other teachers are livid of course, and you and the rest of the crowd watch on in silence as she furiously marches Harry and the twins off the pitch and up to her office. Umbridge hurries after them, looking more satisfied than you think she intends to let on. 

This altercation results in a new sign stuck up on every noticeboard around the castle: 

EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY-FIVE

She banned Harry and the twins from playing, and for the next week your Gryffindors were particularly sour in class and you often heard them whispering to each other about someone called ‘Umbitch’. Wonder who that’s about? 

The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the ability to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed,  Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class

Hagrid comes back — you spy the lights on in his hut and hurry down to see him. He had been off to find the giants, Dumbledore had told you at a meeting during the summer. And it seems you’re not the only one who noticed he’s back, because the moment you knock on Hagrid’s door you find the infamous trio sitting at the table, talking to him. You can’t help but gasp when you see him. His hair is matted with congealed red blood and his face is littered with scratches and bruises and redness. 

“Fucking hell, Hagrid, who’d you kill?”

He picks up a nasty looking slab of dragon meat and drops it onto the side of his face with a slap. Green blood oozes out from underneath it. 

You wince. “Or, uh, who tried to kill you?” 

“It’s nothin’, don't you start worryin’ ‘bout me now.” 

You scoff, sitting down at the table beside the kids. “Yeah, right. Spill.”

You listen intently as Hagrid tells the tale of his and Madame Maxine’s journey to find the giants, and how when he found them, their leader Golgomath had already set his allegiances with the Death Eaters, who had been currying his favour with gifts for several days before.

“So…so no giants are coming to fight?” says Ron, looking disappointed. 

“Nope,” Hagrid replies, heaving a deep sigh as he turns his steak over and applies it to the other side of his battered face, “but we did what we were meant ter do, we gave ‘em Dumbledore’s message an’ some of ‘em heard it an’ I s’pect some’ll remember it. Jus’ maybe, them that don’t want ter stay around Golgomath’ll move outta the mountains, an’ there’s gotta be chance they’ll remember Dumbledore’s friendly to ‘em…”

Snow patters softly against the window, the bottom pane covered by white.

“Hagrid?” Hermione says quietly after a while.

“Mhm?”

“Did you…was there any sign of…did you hear anything about your…your mother while you were there?” 

Hagrid’s rests the eye that isn’t obscured by the dragon steak on her, and Hermione looks rather scared. 

“I’m sorry…I…forget it —”

“Dead,” he mutters. “Died years ago. They told me.”

“Oh…I’m really sorry,” Hermione says in a small voice. 

Hagrid shrugs his shoulders, grunting. “No need. Can’ remember her much. Wasn’ a great mother.”

The room goes silent again, and you clear your throat. “You still haven’t told us how you got into this state, Hagrid,” you say, gesturing towards his bloodied face.

“Or why you’re back so late,” Harry adds. “Sirius said Madame Maxine got back ages ago —”

“Who attacked you?” Ron asks. 

“I haven’ bin attacked!” Hagrid exclaims emphatically. “I —”

A loud rapping on the door grabs your attention, and you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. You jump; Hermione gasps and her mug slips through her hands and smashes on the floor with a crash; Fang yelps. Silent, you stare out the window beside the doorway at a familiar squashed figure standing behind the thin curtain. 

Your face drops. “Fuck.”

“It’s her!” Ron hisses.

“Get under here!” Harry says quickly, seizing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself and his two friends. Huddled together, they back into a corner while Fang barks madly at the door. Hagrid looks thoroughly confused. 

You hastily grab the kids’ mugs and shove them under the cushion in Fang’s bed, while the dog leaps up at the door. Hagrid pushes him out of the way with his foot and opens the door. 

Umbridge stands in the doorway, wearing a pink tweed cloak and a matching hat with earflaps to match. Her eyes widen at the state of Hagrid’s face and she purses her lips.

“So…you’re Hagrid, are you?” 

She speaks very slowly and very loudly, over-annunciating her words as if she is talking to someone who is hard of hearing. Without waiting for an answer from the man, she strolls into the room, her nose high in the air as she surveys the hut as if looking for something. Her eyes land on you and she doesn’t make much of an effort to hide the disdain on her face when she spots you. 

“And what are you doing here?” 

“Visiting my friend,” you say, gritting your teeth. “Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to do that?”

She wrinkles her nose and clicks her tongue.

“Er…I don’t want ter be rude,” Hagrid says, staring at her, hand still on the open door, “but who the ruddy hell are you?”  

“My name is Dolores Umbridge.” 

Her bulging eyes sweep the cabin. Twice they land on the corner where Harry, Ron, and Hermione are hiding. 

“Dolores Umbridge?” Hagrid says in confusion. “I thought you were one o’ them Ministry twa — don’ you work with Fudge?” 

“I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes,” Umbridge says, now pacing around the cabin, scrutinizing every detail. “I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher — “

“That’s brave of yeh,” says Hagrid. “There’s not many who’d take tha’ job anymore — “

“ — and Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” Umbridge continues. 

Hagrid frowns. “What’s tha’?”

“Precisely what I was going to ask.” The ghastly woman points to the broken shards of Hermione’s mug on the floor. 

“Oh,” Hagrid says, glancing at you for help. “Uh…”

“Fang has broken more things in this cabin then there are to count,” you say, scratching the dog’s head affectionately. “He got excited when you knocked on the door and bumped the table.”

She looks at you momentarily, her nostrils flaring, before she turns to Hagrid and rakes her eyes over his form, taking in every detail of his dishevelled appearance.

“There are four sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle doors to your cabin,” she says sleekly. 

“Well, one of them’s mine,” you say simply, shrugging your shoulders. 

“And the other three?” 

“Well, I only jus’ got back,” Hagrid says, waving his hand at his travelling cloak on the coat hook and the large bag beside it. “Maybe someone came ter call earlier an’ I missed ‘em.”

“There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin.” 

“Well…I…I don’ know why that’d be…” Hagrid says weakly, tugging nervously at his beard and glancing over at the corner where the trio are hunched beneath the Invisibility Cloak.”Uh…”

Umbridge wheels around and strides the length of the cabin, looking around carefully. She opens the cupboards, bends and peers underneath the bed, and comes dangerously close to where the kids are hiding. After inspecting inside the enormous cauldron Hagrid uses for cooking, she wheels around again and says, “What has happened to you? How did you sustain those injuries?”

“Oh…I…had a bit of an accident,” he says lamely.

You have to resist the urge to wince at his inability to keep his cool.

“What sort of accident?” 

“I - I tripped.”

“You tripped.”

“Into an enclosure of blast-ended skrewts, right, Hagrid? That’s what you told me,” you chime in, giving him a look over Umbridge’s shoulder. 

“R-righ’,” Hagrid agrees. “Straigh’ in there, set ‘em all off, y’know…”

“Where have you been?” Umbridge asks coldly. 

“Where’ve I…?”

“Been, yes,” she says, pursing her lips. “Term started two months ago. Another teacher has had to cover your classes.” She glances at you, frowning. “None of your colleagues has been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left no address. Where have you been?” 

Hagrid stares at her and you can practically hear his brain whirring furiously to find an explanation. 

“I’ve…I’ve been away for me health.”

“For your health.” Umbridge’s eyes travel over Hagrid’s discoloured and swollen face; dragon blood drips quietly onto his waistcoat in silence. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Hagrid says, swallowing thickly. “Bit o’ — fresh air, yeh know—”

“Yes, as gamekeeper fresh air must be so difficult to come by.”

“Well, change o’ scenery, always good —”

“Mountain scenery?” Umbridge says swiftly. 

She knows. Oh my god, she knows. 

“Mountains?” Hagrid repeats, shaking his head as though he’s never heard the word before. “Nope, south of France for me. Sun an’ sea.”

“Really? You don’t have much of a tan.”

“Yeah, well…sensitive skin,” says Hagrid, attempting a smile — you notice two of his teeth have been knocked out. 

Umbridge stares back at him coldly, and his smile falters. “I shall, of course, be informing the Minister of your late return. You ought to know that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon enough.” 

She turns from him and marches promptly back to the door. 

“You’re inspection’ us?” Hagrid echoes blankly, staring after her. 

“Oh yes,” Umbridge answers, her hand on the door handle as she looks back at him. She glances at you, a smirk tugging at her thin lips. “The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Good night.”

She leaves, closing the door behind her with a snap. You wait a few seconds before standing up and pulling back the window curtain an inch, peering out at Umbridge’s stout little form making her back to the castle in the snow. 

“It’s alright, she’s going back now,” you say softly, turning around and heaving a sigh. 

“Blimey…inspectin’ people, is she?” Hagrid says. 

“Yeah.” Harry pulls the cloak off, revealing the trio once again. “Trelawney’s on probation already…”

“You’re gonna need to be careful, Hagrid,” you warn. “She’ll be at your first lesson back, I’d put money on it. She’ll scrutinise every little thing you do and say.”

“Don’ worry, don’ worry…I’ve got some really good stuff planned for their lessons now I’m back.”

You raise your eyebrows. 

“Now, you lot had better get back up to the castle, an’ don’ forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!”

You open the door and poke your head out, swirling snowflakes landing on your hair and eyelashes. The kids make to follow you and you thrust your hand out. “Wait, put the cloak on.” You look up at the castle, eyeing the lit windows facing the grounds. “She could be watching from the windows.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

>> read chapter 30 here!

-> all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

thank you everyone for your continued support. I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me <3

Hugs and kisses to my taglist loves:

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @jennifer0305 @wolfdragon0424 @lovemesomevesey @aylinnmaslow @boiolay

[annie-creates]

I don't really hate you

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Words: 1100

Note: This probably isn't exactly what you meant, but I got this idea and it felt right writing this. If you want I'll write something really really angsty for you later on. I hope y'all like this anyway.

Your day was not going great. Your first class was a disaster, you forgot to bring the tests for the second one and after lunch, the joined class of Evers and Nevers was a nightmare. Noone listened to you, nobody wanted to do the homework and someone even threw a tomato at the black board as you were writing down important bullet points.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry, scream, hysterically laugh or all at once. Your last hope was the last class of the day, nothing could go wrong with gardening, right? You’ll let them roan the gardens and hopefully nobody gets eaten before the end of the day. You couldn’t be more wrong though. As you gave out instructions to replant some of the flowers into bigger pots, you already heard one breaking and saw another student running around with the gardening scissors.

“This horrible day will never end,” you mutter helplessly as you chase the kid with the scissors.

You spend the class cleaning up broken ceramics and glass, hoping at least the flowers will survive the rampage of your students. Honestly you had more faith in the plants than yourself. You locked yourself up in your office for the remaining of the school day, grading last week’s tests and having to fail a few kids, which didn’t add up any cheerfulness into your already sour mood.

When you finally returned into your shared chambers with Leonora, you were ready to give up. She was already out of her usual work clothes, a sign she returned much sooner than you did, reading her book on magical potions at the couch. She gave you a little smile that froze on her face when she noticed your disheveled state.

“I swear I’m turning in my resignation tomorrow. I’m gonna grow grey hair from those kids before the school year ends,” you complained, walking to your dresser.

“Oh come on babe, they’re not that bad,” she tried to reason with you.

“No, they’re even worse. Little inept devils…” searching through your special drawer you don’t agree.

“Well that would mean I’m doing something right…” Lesso smiled but it didn’t amuse you.

“They’re always throwing things, screaming things, breaking things… babe have you seen my cookie?” You suddenly ask as you can’t find your favourite dessert in the stack of sweets you keep for emergencies such like today.

“What cookie?” She asks innocently not looking up from the book.

“The one I like? Chocolate chip with a pinch of salt? It’s my favourite and I’d swear I had one in here…” you narrow your eyes at her.

“I haven’t seen it…” Leonora tries to deny but you see the guilt in her posture not being able to look you in the eyes.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you’d eat my dearest cookie! I’ve been waiting for it the whole day! And I’ve had a horrendous day!” You scream at her on the verge of tears, your comfort food being inevitably gone. “Why would you do that!”

“Jesus babe calm down, it’s just a cookie alright..?” Lesso was taken back by your sudden outburst.

“Yeah maybe to you it’s just food! Then why are you taking it from me!” You scolded her.

“It’s not that big of a deal, you’ll get other cookies…” Lesso argued.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you! You destroyed the only joy a had of the whole day! I hate you!” You shouted with a loud bang shutting the door behind you as you left.

Lesso starred at the spot you were at just moments ago, too stunned to even think, her book long forgotten. What has gotten into you? Were you really that much stressed today? Sure, you were always protective of your sweets, but it was just food, right? Nothing to be too upset about, nothing you couldn’t get yourself the next day.

But to you it wasn’t, the little nice biscuits and delights you kept hidden just for your own pleasure were your comfort. It brought you calmness and overview, caressing your nerves like honey on your soul. And now your favourite one was gone and it ruined your day even more, for you were in excited anticipation to finally eat for many hours by now.

While you were sulking in the now empty dinning hall, Leonora realized she was probably in the wrong this time. You were after all a sweet fragile soul and she knew she shouldn’t have eaten from your secret stash of snacks. She just didn’t think you’d notice, a big mistake on her part. And you always had this rule you shouldn’t be going to sleep while angry at each other, so she had to fix this fast, or you’ll be even more cranky in the morning.

The door behind you open with a creak, your girlfriend coming in. It didn’t happen often she admitted to her mistakes, but you were her one weak spot and she couldn’t live with you being mad at her. Plus, she did kind of bring this on herself. So now she’s gonna make it all better and make it up to you.

“Hey, are you still mad at me?” your silence was answer enough to her dumb question. “Look, I’m really sorry I ate your cookie. I should have remembered how important they are to you. I have something to make up for it though.”

That piqued your interest, along with the amazing smell that came in with her, so you slowly turned around to see what she came up with as a piece offering. The tray of cookies smelled absolutely amazing and a fine fume was still coming up off them, as if there were in the oven just moments ago.

“Did you make this right now?” you questioned.

“Something like that,” she wasn’t willing to admit what a scene she did in front of the kitchen staff to get them to bake a batch at this hour. “They’re not salty but I’ll find you some tomorrow, I promise. I’m really sorry about what I said, your sweets are important.”

“I don’t really hate you, I’m sorry,” you apologize also as you’re already taking one of the delicious delights off her hands.

“Can we go to bed now and enjoy these?” she tries to bribe you.

“Yea, I guess,” you agree, taking the tray and shielding them from her to keep it all to yourself.

“If you eat them all you’re cleaning the crumbs,” Leonora warns you but your pointed look shuts her up real quick. “Alright, I’ll clean the crumbs.”

[fascinatedscrawls]

Here, Probably

"Huh," some- many- all- the ghost that this astoundingly large mass of probabilities spawned from said, looking at him from the other side of a natural portal. "Hey Clockwork, fancy meeting you here."

'Clockwork' (one of his many names - most helpful in this instance in that it confirmed that the portal was to or perhaps from the future) tilted his head slightly, resisting the urge to blink as the usually nearly transparent probable futures condensed further from the tangled web that drew him here. He listened to the echoes, their shock-delight-cheerful-amusement and made a split second decision in a beat that stretched exactly as long as he needed.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met."

Not really. Not outside of glimpses of this or that timeline, each of them eons away.

Danny's (most of the echoes agreed on the name) eyes widened before a grin stretched across his face.

"Really?!" Curling in on himself as if to contain his excitement, Danny looked like he was a few seconds from vibrating in place. A few of his echoed probabilities confirmed it, though none of them ever made it to the Present. "Oh, wow! Does that mean I get to be the mysterious, all-knowing one this time?"

This time?

"Perhaps," Clockwork made no promises, not when mystery was more a matter of opinion or perspective.

The few disappointed probabilities vanished.

"'Perhaps' he says." Danny put on a playful mimicry before squinting at him. "Does that mean you know why we're here?"

Well, Clockwork was here because Danny's branching probabilities started overtaking this section of the Infinite Realms, likely long before this natural portal even opened. The same probabilities that were becoming sparse as their conversation continued.

Almost all of them went tight lipped on the subject of what Danny was doing in the middle of empty space some time in the far future.

"I'm afraid I don't." Clockwork said what felt like the magic words as all of them shrunk down to be replaced by another enthusiastic grin. It was interesting to see a ghost so expressive even when faced with the Ancient of Time, not many even now in the eras of myths and legends made real were so comfortable.

"It's because we're here!"

Clockwork took another look at the vast emptiness behind Danny and then down (as far as 'down' could be measured in the Realms) at a nondescript island some distance below himself.

Nothing seemed particularly important about either. No echoes, no probabilities, no glimpse of what it was or could be.

"This is where we met!" Danny explained, delighted even as he cleared up nothing.

Of course it was where they met? That just happened. Clockwork didn't say that, was truly never planning on it so even if anyone else saw the probabilities they wouldn't see it.

Somehow, Danny knew to answer it anyway.

"Yeah, I mean your first meeting, duh, but also mine." He twisted in the vacuum of space. "This is where Earth was the first time I met you outside the Zone! And that," he pointed, finger stopping just shy of the portal and the last of the probabilities bleeding into the Infinite Realms vanished as Danny continued, "is where I met you in the Zone. How cool is that?"

Clockwork wondered why that was. Why here? And how was Danny able to tell without ever crossing into the Realms to confirm the portal's location?

Danny faded a little, somehow shadowed, except it wasn't on his side. Unable to help it, Clockwork blinked as another probability made itself known all at once.

"Man, it never stops amazing me how closely Time and Space intertwine." Danny's comment was almost muffled. "Looks like I helped you find your place too, huh? Talk about returning the favor!"

The building, no, tower - his tower, grew more defined even as Clockwork acknowledged that, making it hard to see how the natural portal started to collapse.

Well, far be it for him to let a favor like that go unremarked.

"Thank you, Danny."

"Sure thin- wait! I never introduced myself! That's not fair! I'm supposed to be the mysterio-" Danny's lighthearted complaint cut off when the portal dissolved, leaving Clockwork looking down on the island that would soon be his.

"Time and Space, hm?" Clockwork gave himself a moment to think of what a future would be like, teasing and working with Danny, before setting it aside to get to work building his home. "I look forward to it."

——————————

Another Danny Phantom prompt! You guys laser focused on it, it was impressive!

Another prompt poll is live if you'd like to help me pick the next ficlet topic - I think one of those is also DP related, but it's so late rn I can't say for sure which lol

Oh, god I don't think I explained it, but Danny's side is where they meet because he's where Amity Park and Earth was when they met, but the universe has spiralled on as it is wont to do, so it's mostly void right then.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets

So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):

And I thought:

"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"

Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!

(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)

-

Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.

First comes the awkwardness. 

It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 

Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 

‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’

‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’

‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’

That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 

The texts stopped after that. 

Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 

His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 

Soon, a year passes. 

Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 

It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 

His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 

Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 

He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 

Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.

‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’

The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 

‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’

Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 

The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.

Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 

“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”

Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 

“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 

“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 

Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 

“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 

Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 

Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 

“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 

“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 

Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.

Instead, they hum. 

“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 

“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”

Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 

A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 

“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 

Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 

“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 

He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 

“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 

That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 

Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 

“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 

“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 

“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 

Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.

“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 

That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 

“You kept my mug?” 

“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 

“Right… right. Sorry.” 

“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 

- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.

Second comes the realisation. 

Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 

And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 

Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 

When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 

That is until - 

Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 

“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”

Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 

Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”

“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 

Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 

It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 

Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 

Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 

The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 

“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 

Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 

And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 

Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 

Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 

And now he knows why. 

“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 

It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 

They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 

Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 

Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 

Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 

However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 

Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 

It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 

“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 

Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 

“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 

“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 

“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 

Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 

The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 

[nejiverse]

YOU’RE HIRED!

Nagi Seishiro

In which you ‘interview’ your jobless boyfriend

cw: suggestive at the end, choki is the name of nagi’s pet cactus for those who don’t know, I’ll proofread this later lol

802 words

"Sei you really need to get a job", you plopped down next to him on the bed as he looked extremely focused on what ever game he was playing.

"Ehh? Sounds like a pain".

"Breathing is a pain for you love, at this point you're just gonna have to build a bridge and get over it", you spoke resting your head on his shoulder.

He frowned. "Building a bridge sounds like a pain too".

"...i meant that metaphorically, I don't actually expect you to build one", you didn't think you'd ever have to explain that...but here you were.

"Still a pain".

You were on the verge of banning that word from his vocabulary.

You let the room fall silent for a second before you quickly snatched his console away from him and crawled to the end of the bed.

Which unfortunately was unsuccessful because Nagi grabbed you by your leg.

"Stealing isn't nice y'know", he pouted while he put his hand out, expecting you to drop his console back into his hand.

"Oh like that time you stole my last chicken nugget?".

"Borrowed actually", he huffed.

You shook your head and stuffed his console down your shirt, showing your empty hands to him as if you've just done the most incredible magic trick.

"You need a life babe", it was true. All he did was wake up, play games, and go back to sleep. It was unhealthy.

"You are my life", he responded.

You laughed. "Nice try but that won't get your console back".

"Aw, damn".

You thought of an idea that'd entertain you but also would let you figure out if your boyfriend was equipped for a job...or if anyone would even consider employing him.

"Alright pretend i'm your potential employer, if you pass my interview you can have it back", you sat up and crossed your legs.

Nagi agreed, but only if you'd make it easy.

"So tell me a bit about yourself", you decided to skip introductions. There was no way anyone could flunk that, even your lazy boyfriend.

"Mmm my name is Nagi Seishiro, I like games and sleep", he blinked at you as you urged him to go on but he only shrugged his shoulders. "That's it".

You face palmed at his hopelessness. "Sei is that seriously what you're gonna tell your employer?!".

"Of course it is".

The fact that he was serious added to your worry for him but the show must go on.

"Why did you decide to apply for this job?".

Nagi placed a hand on his chin in thought. He already had his answer but it just added to the theatrics of it all in his opinion.

"I was forced to apply against my will by my girlfriend", he spoke.

"Seiii! Your employer will literally leave!", you shook his shoulders gently.

"I say good riddance".

"Okay one more question, and answer it properly!", you forewarned. He thought his answers were pretty proper though.

"Why should we hire you?".

"So my girlfriend'll stop bugging me about getting a job...do I get the job now?".

"Fuck no", you laughed, scooting closer to your disappointed boyfriend who laid back down with a sigh.

"If it makes you feel any better, A for effort", you laid your head on his chest. "You can just work from home or something".

"I can be a house husband", you looked up at him quizzically.

"Sei, sweetie, love of my life, you don't even do the small chores you have these days...I don't think that's possible", you patted his chest.

He grumbled under his breath, you really had zero faith in him but you were only being realistic.

"Alright then I can be a stay at home dad”.

You raised a brow. Nagi of all people as a father??. "For that you'd need actual kids. We've none of those".

You were taken aback when Nagi moved your head from his chest to the pillow and got on too of you, a hand at your head and the other on your waist. You blinked blankly. "Let's get to baby makin' then", he said it so casually, you were shocked…but not completely opposed to the idea.

“S-seriously?”, you averted your gaze to the side.

Nagi’s hand slithered up your top as he shook his head.

“Nah, I just realised I’d still have to do chores”, he took back his console and laid next to you, continuing his game. “Besides we’ve got a kid already”.

“We do?”.

“Yeah, Choki”.

Masterlist :)

a/n: more drafts..I’ve a biology exam in two days and I just came back from holidays 💀

[twiishaa]

twisha’s a merry christmas event! christmas eve with trafalgar law

trafalgar law x fem!reader, non-pirate au!! trafalgar law wasn't really a christmas person. but somehow, you convinced him to stay at yours for the night and try to meet santa. he knew you guys wouldn't see him, but he didn't mind staying up with you-- were those bells he just heard?

the doorbell rang— finally! you were expecting visitors. visitor, to be exact— your boyfriend, trafalgar law, finally agreed to stay over on christmas eve with you. 

“baby! come in, we’ve got lots to do,” you said excitedly. law, on the other hand, didn’t look as excited. he shuffled into your apartment as you dragged him inside.

— 

“hey, we’ve got into the christmas mood somehow,”  you started as soon as he sat down, flaunting a santa hat. it wasn’t yours, since you already had one on, so…

“there is NO way you’re getting that on me.” law warned, slowly backing from the couch.

“oh, you don’t know anything! get back here, you grinch!” you shouted, chasing your boyfriend down the corridor.

— 

somehow, you managed to tackle on the santa hat and now you two were sitting on the floor, snacks on the table. 

“so, what… now we just sit and wait?” law asked, already bored. 

“we’ll, not just wait, we have to keep our ears open for santa,” you quipped, somewhat factually. 

“you know he’s not going to come,” law chided. 

you gasped dramatically. “that’s because you don’t have the…” you looked around to see if anyone was listening, then, with an over-exaggerated expression, whispered, “the christmas magic.” 

law looked so over it. but he wasn’t going to do anything, he was secretly really enjoying it. he hadn’t gotten the chance to celebrate christmas like this, so being with you brought out this side of him, for which he was forever grateful for.

“so, what did you do at home for christmas? since you seem to hate it…” you asked, the last bit in a more mocking tone, as you grabbed a cookie from the table.

law hesitated for a moment, then started, “it’s not that I HATE christmas, per se, it’s just.. we never really celebrated it at home. honestly, I thought the christmas movies were all fake.” well, now you were even more excited to spend christmas eve with him.

“should we decorate some cookies? we always used to do that at home,” you asked, pointing towards the undecorated gingerbread cookies, and next to it a deconstructed gingerbread house.

— 

you never knew law was such an… architect inside. never ever had you seen a more perfectly structured gingerbread house before.

“oh my god baby I never knew you were so good at making houses! how the hell is it so neat?!” you said, looking at law’s gingerbread creation. on the outside, law looked indifferent, but you could tell he was a little flustered from your comment as his cheeks were dusted a light pink.

“I mean… I’m a doctor, if I didn’t have a steady hand I think I’d be out of my profession,” he remarked. “anyways… how are yours so.. lopsided?”

this was your second time to gasp at him. feigning hurt, you said, “how could you say that?! I think its beautiful,” turning from his flawless gingerbread house to your.. gingerbread-abandoned-shed. you broke a chunk off your roof and tasted it.

“tastes really good, though,” you said in between bites.

“you psychopath, why are you eating your own house…” “law! you just said it barely qualified as a house!”

— 

still munching on gingerbread, you checked the time.

“oh my god! it’s nearly midnight! come on law, we ACTUALLY need to look out for santa claus this time,” you squealed, dragging law back to the living room. but now, it was easy to tell law was enjoying the excitement christmas eve brought along with it.

you chose a place next to the window and settled down on the rug, lying your head in law’s lap. there were a few moments of tranquillity, with law gently combing through your hair, until snow started to fall, soon turning the dark sky into a flurry of white.

“is that a sign santa’s coming?” law asked, in a hushed tone.

you laughed warmly.

but suddenly, the two of you heard something. it was high pitched, but still delicate and so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear it. you sat up abruptly. was the lack of sleep getting to you?

“hey, was that…” you trailed off, looking at law. he glanced out the window again, making sure there was nothing outside. then, the sound happened again. the same, soft, high-pitched sound, almost like…

the jingling of bells?

taglist @hearts4hansol @kcch-ns

⋆⁺₊❅ and lastly, here's a link to the masterlist! merry christmas~‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

[jiliansky-blog]

How to love a dream. Chapter 5. Cinema

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 2000

Morpheus

“Is everything good?” asked Hob, when I returned to his home. “Are your plans for today still valid?”

“Yes, I suppose I have one more friend,” I said.

“That’s great!” Hob was really glad. “See, that is what I wished for you. To have more friends. But don’t attack her for her curiosity.”

“I just… It was irrational of me,” I sighed. “I apologize for my behavior earlier.”

“You should apologize to her, and you already did,” he smiled. “She really doesn’t mean any harm. Believe me.”

“Still I don’t want her to be another Burgess or Constantine,” I admitted.

“And the second one helped you, remember?” he asked. “Y\N doesn’t possess any magic as far as I know.”

“And how can you know for sure?” I asked. “She doesn’t know that you are immortal, because you hide it. It can be another way around.”

“Point taken,” Hob shrugged. “But do you agree with me that she is not a threat to you? She is just human, after all.”

“That is right,” I agree.

You woke up with a strange feeling the next morning. You’re going to the cinema with Morpheus. It's almost like a date, but it’s not. You’re friends. Friends can go to the cinema together. Nothing romantic won’t happen.

You had a quick breakfast, then lunch. After the breakfast, your friend called you to ask about the movie. You were annoyed by her question.

“I didn’t go yesterday,” you admitted.

“O, I’m so sorry you couldn’t go,” she said. A little bit of guilt was there in her voice.

“But I’m going today,” you replied.

“Alone?” she asked.

“No, with Morpheus,” you said.

“Are you two…dating?” she asked. “And you didn’t tell me anything.”

“We aren’t dating,” you said. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah, I see,” she replied.

“You know what?” you asked. “I don’t need time for that. I’ve got to go. Bye.”

Definitely, romantic literature that you’ve read played jokes on you. Because you couldn’t forget how attractive and charming this man was. Also, a little bit asshole. But then he changed to his polite self again. God, it was confusing.

He came even earlier than you arranged. But anyway, you were glad to see him. You choose a blue dress. And he seemed to like it.

“I didn't see people wearing dresses to the cinema like to the theater,” he smirked.

“I like wearing dresses,” you replied. “You are early.”

“I decide that it’s better to come earlier than late,” he said.

He looks like usual, and you let him in. He also wasn’t annoyed, which was already a good thing. You smiled at him.

“Do you know what the film is about?” you asked.

“No,” he said.

“It’s about vengeance,” you said.

“Oh?” Morpheus said.

“Yes, and about the power of love,” you smiled. “Are you ready?”

“I’m intrigued,” he nodded.

“Then let’s go,” you said.

And you left your house and went to their theater. You saw that a lot of people were looking at you two. Or were they looking at Morpheus?

“When did you visit the cinema the last time?” you asked.

“I don’t remember,” he replied. “Anyway, I preferred theater.”

“Oh, I didn’t remember when I was there for the last time,” you admitted. “It feels…uneasy to go there alone.”

“Then I will go with you,” he said suddenly.

 “What?” you asked surprisingly.

“I think you should visit the theater with me,” Morpheus replied seriously.

That man is full of mystery. At first, he was against you coming to the dinner. Then he went with you to the cinema. And now this.

“You are something else,” you admitted.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You aren’t like the rest of the people I know,” you said. “And definitely not like other men. It’s a good thing.”

“Good, I think?” He looked so confused.

“Yes,” you smiled.

“Yes, definitely good,” you admitted.

When you came to the cinema, he put out money from his pocket. And then he caught you watching him.

“Hob financed me,” Morpheus said. “And I am going to buy both tickets.”

“You shouldn’t,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “And I insist.”

“Is it your way to apologize?” you smiled.

He frowned and avoided your gaze.

“Perhaps,” he just replied.

“You are sweet,” you smiled.

“I’m just polite,” he refused.

When you were already sitting in front of the screen, it still felt like a date for you. Morpheus on the other side was calm.

“You are sitting so straight right now,” you admitted. “You can relax already. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Are you saying that I’m being nervous?” he asked.

“Yeah, you looked so,” you smiled.

He didn’t have time to answer. The movie began. You were excited to see one of your favorite movies on the big screen with a good image. Morpheus looked interested too. And you were glad he came with you.

At the end of the movie, you were almost sure that you saw tears in his eyes. And his lips were trembling vulnerably. You wanted to ask if he was okay but decided to do better than wound his pride.

“Did you like it?” you asked instead.

“Yes, I feel some…familiarity,” he said. “It was about love that was worth vengeance. And the power of truth.”

“And justice,” you smiled.

“Yes, that’s right,” he nodded.

“What now?” you asked. “Are you going back to the professor?”

He looked at you like a very offended cat. You were confused. What now?

“I thought we could have a coffee,” he said finally.

“I won’t say no to that,” you smiled.

You took him to the café nearby. And you felt almost proud for being with this handsome man. Everyone thinks that you are a couple, perhaps. You were afraid to ruin this.

“Did you like the cinema?” you asked.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Especially that there weren’t many people.”

“You don’t like crowds,” you admitted.

“Not really,” he nodded again. “Don’t worry about that.”

“But we’re in a crowded place now,” you said.

It was true. There were a lot of people at that time of the day. And it was a weekend. You were considering going to another place.

“We can go elsewhere,” you said.

“No, it’s alright,” he said and chose the table.

“You are so a gentleman,” you said.

“It’s simple politeness,” he shrugged. “Do men in your…town so rude?”

“Not rude, but chivalry long gone,” you replied.

“Then good that you’ve met me,” he smirked.

“Definitely,” you said.

You ordered coffee, but Morpheus insisted on paying for you again. You didn’t know how to react to that.

“That is why I said that you’re different,” you smiled.

“I see now,” he said seriously.

“What else brought you here?” you asked.

“Cinema?” he asked.

“I mean to this town,” you replied. “I know, you came to visit your friend. But is there something else?”

“Perhaps I wanted to find myself in something else than my work,” he said after a few minutes of thinking. “My sister said that I need to find a hobby.”

“You don’t have a hobby?” you asked, surprised.

“I like reading and sometimes feeding the birds,” you said.

“That’s I got,” you smiled.

“Sometimes I like watching other people,” he said. “To know his dreams and hopes. Or walking my place of work.”

“Is it good to watch every time?” you asked.

“Yes, definitely,” he smiled genuinely. “You would like it.”

“Then I hope I see it some other time,” you smiled.

“” Perhaps, one day,” he smirked. “Or one night.”

“Night?” you asked. “Are you working during nights?”

“Mostly,” he avoided your gaze again.

“Tell me about the place,” you smiled and didn’t push this topic. Morpheus doesn’t want to talk about it, for sure.

“It’s beautiful,” he said with a soft smile. “It is like a place of your dreams. There are a lot of nature and wonderful buildings.”

“Sounds interesting,” you noticed.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I hope…to show you one day.”

“It would be great,” you smiled.

You felt warm sitting next to him. It wasn’t like yesterday dinner. He wasn’t hostile and annoyed. He was calm and actually sweet.

“Thank you for this day,” you smiled.

“It hasn’t ended yet,” he smirked.

“But I thought that you wanted to return to Hob after the cinema,” you mentioned.

“I can return later,” Morpheus said. “We still have time. And I am going to visit the theater so I can find out what they can offer.”

“Alright,” you replied.

“Will you go with me?” he asked.

“Of course,” you smiled.

“Then let’s go,” he said.

You showed him the way to the theater; even so, he told you that he remembers it. But you felt inspired by him.

“What can you say about “The Nutcracker” ballet?” he asked inside.

“I like the idea,” you smiled.

“Very well,” he smirked. “Because I have already bought tickets. For tomorrow evening.”

“You’re impossible,” you said.

“I am going to fulfill my promise,” he said seriously. “And I want to make for yesterday. I… I am not usually like this.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Perhaps you will be mad at me in the future,” Morpheus replied. “Everyone is holding a grudge and leaving. They say that I cruel, and I’m too much.”

“Everyone has their own flaws,” you said. “I can assure you, no one is perfect. And your flaws don’t define you.”

“I used to think otherwise,” he said, looking away.

“Don’t listen to those people,” you smiled. “Everyone can change. And everyone makes mistakes. Don’t worry.”

“You are wise, just like Hob,” he admitted.

“That’s my therapist,” you smiled.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” the man replied.

“So are you,” you said. “What now?”

“I can walk you home,” he said. “And more than that, I insist on walking you home.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “I won’t say no to that.”

It was something…magical about the way you two talk. You felt like you knew him for a long time. And you didn’t feel angry anymore.

“Thank you for your company,” you smiled when you arrived at your home.

“You too,” he replied. “Then I meet you tomorrow after your lessons. I don’t want you to distract from your studies anymore.”

“So gentlemanly of you,” you smiled. “You can visit me at the university.”

“I will keep it in the mind,” he smiled back. “Until then.”

He nodded and went away. What a mysterious man! And charming. And handsome. Oh god, I am so doomed.

Morpheus

“How was the evening?” asked Hob during the dinner.

“It was good,” I replied. “Sufficient. Tomorrow we are going to the theater.”

“Oh?” he asked. “You are quickly to court her.”

“It is not. Courting,” I refused.

“And your blushing says otherwise,” the man grinned. “You don’t need to worry about. I would be glad for both of you.”

“I just…” I said, strike with a thought. “I didn’t think about her in that way. And it wouldn't be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Hob asked.

“Because it is forbidden for the Endless and mortals to be together,” I said. “It will lead to destruction.”

“Oh maybe not,” he said suddenly.

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “The last time when I got involved with a mortal, her kingdom was lost, and she killed herself.”

Memories of Nada were always painful for me.

“And when was that?” he asked.

“Ten thousand years ago,” I replied.

“Ten thousand, yeah?” he smirked. “A lot of time passed since then, don’t you think? I want to say that everything could change.”

“I didn’t hear about that,” I said.

“Why, then, your family wants you to find someone here?” Hob asked. “They may know more than you are.”

It didn’t occur to me before. Hob might be right. What if something changed? But what if nothing changed? Then I will ruin everything again.

“Look, I don’t say that you shouldn’t be careful,” he said, looking at me. “Just don’t give up hope if you like her.”

“I will be careful,” I said.

“But do you like her?” he asked.

“You already asked that,” I sighed. “I know her less than a week.”

“And you’re courting her,” he admitted.

“I am not,” I refused.

“When was the last time you asked someone out?” Hob asked.

He was right. But I didn’t want to agree so easily.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“It does,” he said. “Anyway, I wish for you two good luck tomorrow.”

But I could only think about what my sister may know.

@shadowqueen1322 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda

[lesbicosmos-writes]

very late but here's my prompt fill for @paynelandpromptfest day 3!

i've been so busy with school and other stuff i couldn't get this finished on time but oh well it's here now!! i'm also working on one for the day 6 prompt so that should be up soon <3

prompt: mistletoe

summary: charles keeps putting mistletoe up around the office as an excuse to kiss edwin, crystal is a little shit (affectionate) and decides to pull a prank about it

notes: this was very crystal-centred for a payneland fic but idfc i love my girl

also on ao3!

it's tradition, crystal!

Crystal couldn’t take them much longer. Well, she could, and would, but that didn’t mean she’d enjoy it.

“Really, Charles?” she sighed after walking into the office with a cup of hot chocolate to find Charles hanging yet another sprig of mistletoe up, slotting the ribbon tying it together under one of the slats in the ceiling above Edwin’s chair.

“What?” Charles asked innocently.

“This whole room is practically a mistletoe forest!”

“It’s décor, Crystal!”

“Décor that also just so happens to be an excuse for you to kiss your boyfriend every ten seconds while we’re on case research!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, it’s just pretty,” Charles argued, his mouth curling up into a smirk.

“You’re unbelievable. When I told you you two are like a dead married couple on acid, I didn’t think it could get worse.”

Charles grinned, giggling a little.

She loved them, really. Of course she did. And she was always the first person to step to their defense if a client with outdated views – or one who was just a bit of a dick – said anything about them. Only she was allowed to bully her best friends like that.

At that moment, Niko and Edwin walked into the office, both laughing about something.

“Successful trip?” Charles asked, having just jumped down from Edwin’s chair and leaned back against the desk.

“Yes, I believe it was. Maggie’s antique shop is always a delight,” Edwin said, his brown overcoat disappearing into thin air.

“And I dragged him to HMV,” Niko smiled, as she placed her tote bag down, then took her own coat off and hung it on the stand next to the front door.

“She did.”

“Aces.”

Edwin strode across the room and took his usual seat behind the desk, placing the knickknacks he bought in the bottom drawer.

“Hey, mate,” Charles said as he looked back up.

“Yes?”

Charles pointed to the ceiling above Edwin, smirking.

“Oh. That’s interesting. Well then, I think we both know what we have to do now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles teased, leaning closer.

Edwin pulled him in by his braces and crashed their lips together.

Niko giggled. Crystal faked gagging.

“I thought you said you wanted to get straight back into researching the Graveyard Goblin case when you and Niko got back?” Crystal asked, her arms folded.

“Of course. But there’s always time for mistletoe,” Edwin replied, finally moving away from Charles’s lips.

“It’s tradition!” Charles grinned.

“It is tradition, Crystal,” Edwin agreed.

Crystal scoffed in amusement. It was almost funny seeing Edwin like this. He was usually so annoyed at distractions to their cases, but since it got colder and the festive decorations went up, he was much more relaxed – and much more lenient about taking breaks to indulge in his boyfriend. Charles had told Crystal that Edwin had always adored Christmas, so maybe that was it. She had to admit, it was difficult to get too annoyed about anything when there were brightly coloured lights strung around the room, and a little snowman plush smiling at them from one of the bookshelves.

That didn’t mean she was going to let them off that easily, though.

Over the last few months, Crystal had gained much more control and understanding of her newly realised psychic abilities. Edwin had been helping her delve into her subconscious, exploring the extent of her powers – and through their little sessions, he had also taught her some magic.

He had only taught her a few novelty spells, just to get her started, but one of them had been perfect for the situation at hand. Perhaps if Edwin didn’t want to be pranked, he shouldn’t have told Crystal how to cast such prank-worthy magic.

She had to do a little extra reading herself to figure out how to adapt the spell to this specific circumstance, but that wasn’t too difficult, and within a week her plan was set – and she had a sprig of enchanted mistletoe.

“You coming, Crys?” Charles called from the top of the staircase of the office building.

“I just totally fucked up my makeup!” Crystal lied, shouting back from the bathroom. “You guys go on without me, I’ll meet you at the café!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you three go!”

“’Kay, we’ll see you there!”

Crystal smiled to herself in the mirror. It felt good to be enacting a harmless prank for once. From what she’d learned from the memories David had stolen from her, most of the tricks she pulled had ended in at least one person getting hurt in the process. It made her so angry, and guilty. How could she have done that? How was the person who did all those terrible things her?

She shook the thoughts away. No. She wasn’t that girl anymore.

When she was sure Charles Edwin and Niko would be halfway down the street by now, she made her way down the stairs and hung up the mistletoe in the main doorway to the building.

Now to wait. And have a nice day out without stressing about cases.

It was a nice day out. Crystal caught up with the others at a small café, which was hidden in one of the more supernatural parts of central London and run by shapeshifters.

The four of them had found a booth, Niko and Crystal sitting opposite Edwin and Charles. Crystal could tell the boys were holding hands underneath the table and found herself smiling at them. She really was glad they finally got their shit together – it was a little easier to deal with the old-married-couple-ness when they were actually both aware of their feelings. Aside from holding hands in public more often and disappearing occasionally while out on jobs to make out in an alleyway though, not much had really changed between them. They were still two best friends above everything else – just best friends who happened to kiss annoyingly often, and put mistletoe around every inch of the office as an excuse to do so.

After they’d all had hot chocolates at the café – including Charles and Edwin, since this café had recently come up with recipes that ghosts could enjoy too, leading to a huge surge in business – the four of them ventured to Leicester Square to look around the Christmas market. Crystal and Niko got hot dogs for lunch while Charles and Edwin were over by the huge Christmas tree, eating…each other’s faces, it would seem. A female ghost was watching them in a mix of awe and mild scandal – based on her outfit, the girls guessed she died somewhere in the 1950s. Crystal chuckled.

Soon, it was getting late, so the group headed back to the office. Crystal had told Niko about her plan while Charles and Edwin were off on one of their little dates in the afternoon, so the two of them hung back behind the boys to get the best view of the action.

“Well would you look at this?” Charles said as they approached the entrance to the building, spotting the mistletoe hanging in the doorway.

“Charles,” Edwin said fondly, “when did you have time to put that there?”

“This one wasn’t me!”

“Mhm,” Edwin hummed, unconvinced.

“I’m serious! It wasn’t! It must’ve been Ethel!”

Ethel was a psychic who lived in the space directly below the office and ran a spiritual shop, doing tarot readings for local ghosts. Crystal wouldn’t have put it past her to pull something like this, which is why she decided to hang the mistletoe there in the first place: the boys wouldn’t question it.

“Well, you know what we’ve gotta do.”

“Actually, Charles, I do not believe I do know,” Edwin teased.

“Come here.”

Charles held Edwin’s cheek in one hand, gently pulling him in to softly brush their lips together.

It would have been a really sweet moment…if the mistletoe didn’t open itself up the second their lips connected, raining a strange substance over their head that covered both of them in glittery spectral goo.

Crystal immediately burst out laughing, watching as the boys slowly moved away from each other, wiped the bright purple ooze from their faces and turned to face her.

“You should see your faces!” she laughed, and Niko joined in, giggling at the sight before them. “God, I wish you two would show up on camera, this would be priceless!”

“Very funny, Crystal,” Edwin said, clearly intending to be sarcastic but the slight amusement was not completely hidden in his voice.

“This is hilarious,” Crystal confirmed.

“It is pretty funny,” Charles giggled, turning to face Edwin, his eyebrows creasing in amusement.

How could Edwin not find it funny when Charles was looking at him like that, his face covered in whatever the bright purple substance was that Crystal had cursed the plant with? He was soon smiling, too, reaching up to wipe some of it away from Charles’s cheek.

“This is payback for the number of times I’ve had to witness you two being all lovey-dovey the last few weeks,” Crystal grinned, gesturing between them with her hands.

The four of them laughed, and didn’t stop until they’d climbed all four staircases and got inside the office.

“This was a very good prank, Crystal,” Edwin said.

“Thank you,” Crystal replied proudly.

“But…” Edwin continued, a smile growing on his face that made Crystal a little scared. “If you thought this would stop us being – how did you put it – all lovey-dovey, you are sorely mistaken.”

With that, Edwin strode across the office, grabbed Charles by the face and kissed him soundly despite both of them still being covered head to shoulders in gunk.

“Seriously guys? Come on!” Crystal groaned.

She’d come to accept by now that there was no escaping them. Even with enchanted purple goo.

[peoplesrazor]

Finally getting around to a follow up

Link to my first post.

When I first talked about this I ended the post by saying:

I might make another post in the future and touch on other stuff related to this. What Lily says about Amity breaking up with Luz because of her behavior. Whether the people around Luz should have confronted her more often and so on.

Finally getting around to that other post. Thanks to @risingphoenix87 for the reminder. This time I'm starting out knowing it's going to be a long post.

Heavy spoilers for The Owl House in this one.

First, I want to make a point I didn't in the last post. The reason I didn't is I was trying to "meet Lily where she stands," as it were and discuss the ideas she as she presented them. While I think that was a good approach over all to this video, it may have ended up sounding like I agreed with something I do not.

The idea I'm talking about is that of Luz's trauma response changing.

In this and other Owl House videos Lily claims Luz used to have a different, more proactive response to trauma, and that in season two that response changed.

I need to point out, I don't think that's true. Rereading my post, I realized I said her response changed because she did. That's not really what I meant. What I meant was her emotional responses changed, not what she's actually doing. Small, but important difference there.

To explain more clearly:

Luz is still pretty proactive. Even as she becomes more guilt-ridden and upset, she's still determined. She's still active. She's still at the center and the one the others are looking to for answers. Amity literally ends a pretty simple statement, that at least they'll all be together at the end of it, with the phrase "Right, Luz?" in the second episode of Season 3. (It's horrible timing, but that's plot convenience.)

What changed was Luz's response to failure. Think of all the times in Season one when the stakes were pretty low and Luz messed up. She what? Smiled sheepishly? Gave a nervous apology, maybe? Said oops! Didn't know that would happen, silly me? The kid set my second-hand embarrassment off the whole season.

Then something happened that raised the stakes and had real consequences. That led to Eda getting captured, nearly petrified, and losing her magic. That led to her only way home being destroyed.

Something that Luz blames herself for.

And season two just builds and builds on that. The stakes get increasingly higher. Luz puts more and more pressure on herself. She wants to make a new door. She wants to reassure her mother. She wants to stay on the isles. She wants people to listen to her about Belos. Just building and building, until she finds out she was actually part of Belos' plan all along.

So, yeah, Lily, girl's a little rattled.

Okay, now that I got that off my chest, onto the argument about confronting and breaking up with Luz.

I'm going to say Luz is dealing with Toxic Guilt. The link there is to the UK counseling directory's entry on the subject. They offer a lot of information on the subject and ways to help someone get through it.

Note some of the characteristics. Excessive self-blame. I helped Belos. Perfectionism. The first part of the in school hero speech. The way she scoffs at the word hero guts me. Self-punishment. The second part of that speech. The never been born part. Negative self-image. Oh my Gosh, Hunter, they're all going to hate me. Ongoing and persistent and Impact on well-being are literally just what's going on with her.

I don't think I have to point out that the website says nothing about just giving up on someone who is going through this. Granted, Lily says the others should be confronting her more, but she follows that up almost immediately by saying Amity should break-up with her. To me, the connotation is clear: just wash your hands clean of this one, time to move on.

I swear, Lily, the more I examine your media takes, the more I wonder about things I hear about your real life. I understand it can be difficult if it starts to become damaging to your own mental health, but there is no sign it's doing that with any of Luz's friends. Lily, if you just wash your hands of someone because they are going through something and aren't as fun to be around, they aren't the toxic one.

You are.

As for confronting Luz: Maybe. Maybe, if they were aware of the time in school when she indirectly wishes she'd never been born. I don't have any reason to believe they are, though. None of them are around and the teacher and other kids don't react much. It could be because she does kind of revert to that, sheepish, was I doing something strange? behavior after. Just the weird kid being weird in their minds.

If they'd seen that, sure ask her if she needs to talk or something. I'm sure Luz would just put them off. Say she's fine. Maybe they'd keep a closer eye on her. I can't see much more coming from such a talk, though.

I have a feeling you mean more than that. Like what? Give her an ultimatum? Shake her? Again, the others do show concern for her state. Her mother talked to her and comforted her when she came to her room to sleep. Amity wants to find the Titan's Blood before telling Luz because she gets that Luz was upset about their attempt at a portal door not working.

I'm not going to really entertain the idea of a breakup here. No reason to argue why it wouldn't happen. It's silly to think it should. Amity's reactions to Luz being down is normal, I think. It's fine that Amity is concerned about her. It's fine that she tries to be upbeat and thinks of fun couple costume ideas and such.

She cares about her and believes in her. So does everyone else.

Besides that, Luz is functioning. She's getting up every morning. She's getting dressed. Going to school. She helps the others trying to get a door to work. She goes out dancing with Amity in the rain. She seems to be eating, showering, etc. She goes with the gang to get new clothes. She agrees to Amity's couple costume and goes with the others to the Halloween event.

Heck, she's in the situation with Hunter at the graveyard, because she was helping Hunter with the "seeing Belos thing." She uses her Glyphs to find the Titan's Blood. She helps fight Belos when he possesses Hunter. She's the one that catches Flapjack and is ready to dive in to get Hunter before her mother does it instead.

Her mother has to move her aside, because she's still being proactive.

And after all that, after all that guilt and drama, it takes just the slightest bit of understanding from her friends, a little encouragement from her mother, and the tiniest of nudges from her girlfriend for her to agree to, at least, go back long enough to get her friends safely back to their families and possibly confront Belos.

She's not better. Not after her friends learn the truth and encourage her to keep fighting. Not after her first talk with her mother. Not after the second one that unlocks her Palisman. She's not ready to take the step of forgiving herself.

That's why she has the nightmare she does at the beginning of episode 3.

The Collector clearly is using things personal to the individuals he's playing with. Now, it might seem like he got info from other puppets, other sources, but I think he got information just from King, Eda, and Luz and used that as like a pool of metaphorical building blocks to construct their personal nightmares.

Take note. That room King wakes up in in his dream? Yeah, King never saw that room in the episode it was in. Luz did.

This also explains why Amity flubbed her line. Luz is absolutely right. Amity would know it was duel not battle. So, would Luz. Granted it could be Amity fighting back, but it sure looks like Luz realizing it's not her and messing with her by poking at her and so on that breaks her out. Like Luz realizing it wasn't real broke the dream for a bit.

If that's the case, he didn't get that info from either of them, and none of his other puppets would have read those books. Remember, Amity is literally the only other person to even buy one of those books. Only a handful of other people even know they exist.

So, who would have read those books but isn't an obsessed nerd who knows them word for word and might be young enough to not understand the difference between duel and battle?

King. He's read them. He says so at the end of Edge of the World, the same episode where Luz saw that room. The collector learned about the Azura books from King either before this game of nightmares, or while setting it up.

The above wasn't a random tangent. I'm trying to set up the thought that The Collector used knowledge he pooled from them collectively to build the world of his nightmare game, but zeroed in on their individual worst fears to play with them. The reactions of Luz's friends in her nightmare shows she's not yet ready to forgive herself and her fear that they either didn't, or at least shouldn't, have forgiven her so quickly.

See, you can get this kind of insight by actually paying attention to what a story is doing, rather than complaining about what it's not doing, Lily.

Luz is not ready to forgive herself and all the reassurances from her friends and family aren't going to do it for her. What does it take for her to reach that step?

Well, what was it that she wanted? What thing did she really want that finally brought her Palisman to life? To be understood?

And who understood making a large mistake while trying to help?

The Titan. He gave her the last nudge. Until then, she really felt like she was as bad as Belos. She even says as much. She can't really argue when he says all her negative feelings aren't true. He would know. He's gone through the same thing.

As always, my opinion.

Notice though, that she got through all that without any of her friends and family confronting her more often and without Amity breaking up with her. Neither of those things would have helped either, because neither is what she needed. They may even have made it worse.

Deep down, she may even have known what she needed on a sub-conscious level.

What was it she said to the The Collector?

"People are complex and sometimes they just need a little kindness and forgiveness."

Yeah.

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 20: [SPIDERKID] brothers / the exchange student's a spider!

ao3 link

note: requested by @.whensam! i'm so sorry i misremembered the details of the prompt when i wrote this, so rather than just the spidey sense this is the brothers finding out that she has the spider powers at all ^^; hopefully this is still alright! (this is in the spiderkid-comes-to-devildom version of the au!)

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“You knew?”

“You didn’t?”

“Can you guys stop fighting?”

Mammon whirls around and points at IK. “You keep your mouth shut! This is between us, understand?!”

“Yeah, but you’re in my room,” She says mildly. “If you’re not gonna stop, could you leave?”

“No! You shot— you have—” He gestures wildly, then finally says, “You make webs.”

“And I walk on walls,” She agrees.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Well— I didn’t think it mattered. You guys do magic.”

“That’s not the same thing! You’re human! You’re not supposed to do that! How d’you do that?!”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I got bitten by a spider—”

“A spider?” Satan repeats. Now this bit he didn’t know. “Just a spider?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” IK says, “But it was radioactive.”

Mammon all but collapses at IK’s desk, eyes still wide with disbelief. Satan gives him a disapproving look out of the corner of his eye.

After a long silence, Mammon finally asks him, “When’d you find out?”

“I found IK doing stretches on the ceiling."

“And ya didn’t think that was weird?”

“I haven’t met a lot of humans,” Satan says with a shrug. “I assumed it was something demons just hadn’t documented before. Maybe they evolved while we weren’t looking.”

“You don’t see Solomon doing any of that,” Mammon counters weakly.

The three of them sit around in silence for a while. IK clears her throat, then swings her legs off the bed. “...I guess I should make an announcement or something, then…?”

Satan gets put in charge of calling everyone except Lucifer down to the common room. Mammon is allowed to sit and process the entire situation for a little longer while IK herself attempts to coax the eldest out of his office.

To be honest, now that he thinks about it, maybe Satan should have been more alarmed. It’s just that something about the way IK treats the whole situation so nonchalantly that makes him feel like it’s completely normal, too. But, no, humans really shouldn't be doing all that...

“This had better be important,” Lucifer warns IK as he follows her into the common room, where the others are already waiting. “I have work to be doing.”

“It won’t take a second,” IK promises, proceeding to the centre of the room, hands folded politely behind her back. “Sorry, everyone. Can I just start this by saying I’m very grateful for your hospitality—”

“Hurry up,” grumbles Levi. Satan shoots him a warning look.

“—right, okay, sorry—” IK clears her throat. “It’ll probably be easier if I show you. Um, so I can do this.”

She trots over to the wall and plants a foot on it, glancing to the four demons watching her with varying levels of bewilderment (and the one watching with anticipation). Then she puts the other foot on it, too.

Asmo all but screams as IK very rapidly scuttles up the wall, then across the ceiling, and stops next to the chandelier - which is decidedly larger than her. “Oh, ew! What the— how’re you doing that?!”

“Hang on,” IK announces. “That’s not all.”

She sits down (still on the ceiling, and now she looks even smaller), extends an arm, folds down two fingers, and shoots a web onto the wall. Beel leaps about two feet into the air - the web flies within an inch of his shoulder.

“I’ll clean that up after, by the way,” She adds.

The others look downright aghast. Lucifer looks as if he's about to shut down entirely, and Satan amuses himself by watching all of his brother's preconceptions of the human they're housing shatter entirely.

It’s at that point that Mammon finally joins them. His recovery doesn’t last long - he sees IK on the ceiling, then immediately staggers to an armchair, looking shell-shocked all over again.

To be honest, Satan doesn’t think it’s that big a deal. IK’s barely been here a month, which doesn’t seem like enough time to have your entire understanding of someone change too drastically. After all, that’s hardly enough time to understand someone in the first place. They have classmates who can do far more grotesque things.

“What happened?” Lucifer asks, suddenly coming back to life. “Is this someone’s idea of a prank? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have? Did Solomon—”

“Whoa, slow down. No, I just do this.” IK gets up, presses a hand to the ceiling, and then hangs there from the ceiling for a moment, sticking by the tips of her fingers alone. “See? I could show you some cooler tricks, but we’d have to go outside.”

“Are… you sure you’re human?” Beel sounds a little faint.

“Yeah.”

“How do you…?”

“Well, you’re not going to believe this—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Levi springs to his feet. “So you’re— what, you’ve got crawly powers? What?”

“Spider powers,” IK corrects, looking offended.

“What else do you do?”

“Um…” She thinks for a while. “...I spread good vibes? Oh, I can pick up heavy stuff. Really heavy stuff. Maybe every heavy thing ever.”

“So you mean to tell me that you could do this before now?” Lucifer’s doing the face that means he’s doing some extremely heavy mental file overhauling. “This was not mentioned in your application.”

“I dunno what to tell you, I didn’t make an application.” IK replaces her hand with a webshot, then carefully winches herself down from the ceiling to just about eye-level with Lucifer. “Hey, man. Relax. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway. I just figure it doesn’t matter down here, y’know? Cause you can grow horns?”

“Wait, can we go back to the heavy things?” Levi sticks a hand up in the air. The shock has worn off quickly. “How heavy are we talking?”

“I mean, I haven’t tried everything, but I haven’t not been able to pick up anything that’s not cemented down—”

“Try Lucifer,” Satan interjects, all but commanding it.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Okay,” IK says, then grabs him by the shoulder, and lifts him as if he weighs about as much as a grocery bag.

Lucifer struggles only briefly before realising that it’ll make him look even more undignified, and resorts to looking thunderous instead. “Put me DOWN.”

IK shrugs and drops him. Lucifer manages to catch himself as his feet hit the floor, but it’s a close call - close enough that Satan finds it appropriate to point and laugh as if he did fall. Oh, if only he’d been filming.

“Ooh, ooh - try Beel!” Asmo suggests, hand stretched into the air. “Or, wait, can you do two of us at once?!”

“I sure could try,” IK replies, adjusting herself. With one in each hand, and without so much as an ounce of effort, she hoists both Beel and Asmo clean off the ground too.

Beel makes a muffled sound of surprise, but otherwise dangles with an almost docile look on his face - Asmo, on the other hand, shrieks, then dissolves into helpless giggles, kicking giddily at the air. IK looks mightily pleased by the reception of her trick.

“So you’re a hero, right?” Levi asks, awed. “You can’t not be a hero with powers, right? Right?”

IK swings Beel and Asmo around a little, then finally puts them back down. (Asmo looks almost disappointed. Beel looks as if he’s still processing the fact that he got picked up in the first place.) “I guess? There aren’t a lot of bad guys around where I live - I can’t afford to get the bus to the city every day, either. I just help out. Getting dogs out of locked cars and stuff…”

“But you are a hero,” Levi insists, beginning to flush from the excitement of it all.

“Sure, I’m a hero,” IK agrees. “Oh! I did fight a guy once. But that was just because he was a jerk.”

“What did you do?”

“I just picked him up and threw him. I didn’t see where he went…”

“Alright,” Lucifer says at last, giving IK a rather cool look. “You can come down now.”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

She disconnects her anchoring web and lands neatly on the carpet, then adds as an afterthought, “I’m pretty sure heights don’t hurt me any more, too. I had to jump out a window and—”

“Enough of that,” Lucifer interrupts, and Satan rather wants to punch him. That’s an impulse he’s used to controlling, though, so he forces himself to stick to observing quietly. “Why didn’t you make any of these… abilities apparent? Would I be wrong to assume that you could have simply fought us as soon as Diavolo summoned you to the Devildom?”

“Uh. Probably not?” IK looks a little confused.

“Do you believe you would have won?”

“...maybe? Does that make me sound really full of myself?” She sits next to Mammon (who’s still dumbfound and silent), and shoots him a slightly worried look. “I mean, never mind that. I didn’t fight you, so that’s good, right?”

Lucifer folds his arms and eyes her critically, looking for the fatal flaw in her armour. Personally, Satan thinks he’s giving IK too much credit. She doesn’t seem the type capable of any nefarious or sinister plots.

“Then why didn’t you?” Lucifer asks. “You were teleported into a room full of strangers. You didn’t think to defend yourself?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I have this extra sense that goes off when there’s danger. And it didn’t go off then.”

Levi’s eyes practically shine at this new information. Lucifer, on the other hand, gives IK a look that says that no, he doesn’t believe that.

“That reminds me, though,” She continues. “I had a question for you, if that’s okay.”

“...fine. Go ahead.”

Satan suddenly gets an uneasy feeling. Like a sixth sense of his own that tells him that this human is about to get herself into trouble. Before he can say anything to stop the train powering forward, though—

“There’s a guy in your attic,” IK says. “Did you know that?”

[cybernecromancer365]

(Elliot catches Alex trying to look good for Liv)

"Thanks." Elliot ended his fourth phone call. Another dead end with no luck. Hopefully Olivia was faring better with the victim. It was the last lead they had.

He groaned at the ache in his bladder. "Gotta piss." He said to himself and walked out of the squadroom with a stretch. He stepped into the hallway and stopped in his tracks at an unexpected sight.

Fixing her lipstick in the reflection of the office's framed "INTEGRITY" poster was none other than their A.D.A. She stood alone in the hall (or so she thought), fluffing her hair to the perfect point and combing it away from her eyes.

His brow raised as she took off her glasses and stowed them in her bag, tousling her hair a little more with both hands. She looked down her black shirt and tugged a button out of its hole, widening the collar just a bit.

"Liv's not here." He sucked in a smile as Alex snapped out of her makeup session and whipped around to him.

She recomposed herself with a clear of her throat but her words took a second to come. "...A-And?"

Elliot stuck his hands in his pockets but stayed quiet.

"I was fixing my collar."

"Okay."

Alex took a breath. "Well, do you guys have any new leads for me? I'm running dry and court's in a few days."

"Liv's finishing up with the victim."

Elliot's cellphone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Look at that."

He read a message.

"Look at what?" Alex said walking to him.

"My partner worked her magic again. Victim's agreed to testify."

"Seriously? Tell her I owe her."

Elliot typed and dictated out loud as he went. "Alex says she owes you...dinner at her place--"

"What?! Elliot stop joking."

"Whoops...my thumb slipped."

Their gazes met and Alex paled. "You did not."

*bing*

"Let me see it." Alex snatched the phone from Elliot's hand. On the screen one word, 'Huh?'

Alex skimmed through the previous messages in disbelief. "Oh my God." She said and tugged at her collar to relieve the sauna starting under her shirt. She breathed and hastily typed a message. "Alex did not say that, your partner is being an asshole." She readily hit send and threw Elliot a disapproving glance.

*bing*

'Oh, that's too bad. I'm hungry.'

Her eyes widened a little at the reponse. She cursed under her breath and put a hand over her eyes. "What have you done?"

"She likes Italian." Elliot said knowingly and Alex met his gaze with a furrow in her brow. She thought for a second then typed a response.

'Rossini's?'

*bing*

'Sounds great. I'm almost back. Tell my asshole partner he'll be filing today's report.'

Alex smiled. "Olivia wants you to know you're filing today's report."

Elliot gave a "so what" shrug and started down the hall. "Keep the glasses. She likes 'em."

Alex clenched her jaw, still holding Elliot's phone in her hand.

[cyanbugremix]

The Stars Remind Me of You

Characters: Sam/Darlin', Sam's Grandma Adeline

CW: None; Fluff, maybe some angsty feels

Written in July 2024

Summary: Sam's grandma, Adeline, introduces him to stargazing one summer night.

Notes: Inspired and written for one of my friends based on a song they found, "Saturn" by Sleeping At Last, and their headcanon that a reason why Sam likes stargazing is because his Grandma Adeline loved it.

Can be found ✨here on Ao3✨, written by moi (cyan_bug37 on Ao3)

~~~~

“Come here out of the light,” Her voice whispered, as if she didn’t want to disturb the crickets and lightning bugs.

Sam stepped off the porch, crossing through the cool grass, and heard the background chatter of their family gathering that they both had ditched. The heat of the summer had been washed away by an afternoon thunderstorm, and the sky was exceptionally clear. The clearness was the main reason why they had come outside.

“Mamaw,” He loudly whispered. “What if there are coyotes and they get us in the dark?”

She laughed, glancing at the house, “Don’t you worry about that, Sam. With the noise they're makin’ in there, I’m sure the coyotes don’t want anythin’ to do with us.”

A breeze blew through, rustling his hair. His grandma had chosen a spot to lay, close to her flowering bushes, but they were far enough from the porch to be in the dark. He laid down next to her, arms touching together, warmth against the slight chill of the grass.

“Okay, close your eyes, let them adjust to the dark. . . are you doin’ it?”

“Yeah,” Sam giggled. He closed his eyes before opening them again after a few seconds, the world seeming a little brighter and blue.

“Alright, now make sure you’re lookin’ at the sky.”

Sam glanced up and frowned. “It looks like how the sky normally looks, Mamaw.”

“Well, yes,” She agreed. “Lots of stars and darkness, but do you know the names of the stars?”

“I know the north star is called Polaris,” Sam replied. He vaguely remembered hearing about it from someone.

“Aren’t you a smart boy? I don’t think I even knew what Polaris was at your age,” She praised.

Sam grinned, feeling a warmth in his chest at the compliment.

“How about I show you a constellation by usin' Polaris as a startin’ point?”

“Okay.”

“Well give me your hand so I can point accurately.” He held out his small hand, and felt her calloused but gentle grip wrap around his wrist and palm. His grandma adjusted her head closer, aiming his now pointed finger. “If you go there, to there. . .”

Sam followed the pattern in the sky.

“You have Ursa Minor. The little bear or the little dipper. There’s the myth that the god Zeus magically transformed one of his son’s and son’s lover into the bear constellations to escape his wife Hera’s wrath. And then, if we go back to Polaris. . .” She guided his small hand, “And we go this way, you’ll find the Draco constellation.”

“Draco.”

“Yes. He’s a serpent,” His grandma explained, tracing the path to each star. “Draco was often used in many Greek myths as an obstacle for guardin’ somethin’.”

“Do they all have myths?”

His grandma hummed, “I don’t think so. Some were only named so people knew where to find the other constellations.”

Sam quietly absorbed the information, and studied the way that if he focused long enough, he could find even more stars buried further in the darkness. And if he looked straight up, the sky looked round, like they were in a big dome.

“Mamaw, how do you know so much about the stars?”

She laughed again, “Oh, well, when I was younger I’d go outside in the evenin’s, once I was done helpin’ clean up supper, and take my stargazin’ book with me. Some nights, I could read by moonlight and be able to find new constellations. The nights I couldn’t, I’d enjoy stayin’ out, even if my mother gave me many warnin’s about the dangers in the night.”

Sam tried to count how many bright dots he could see, partially listening to the story as his right hand tapped the grass to keep track.

“Even in the winter, I’d bundle up and go out. And then my mother would go, ‘Adeline, you’ll be so absorbed in the stars you’ll catch frostbite or slip into a pond and not even notice it until you can’t see your stars anymore’.”

His grandma turned to look at her grandson and noted his faint whispers of numbers. Of course, a little boy like him wouldn’t be so interested in family stories, so Adeline changed the subject. “How many are there, Sam?”

“Thirteen. . Fourteen. . Fifteen. .”

“Did you know that there are millions of stars? Some we can’t even see?”

“Really? Do they all have names?” Sam gaped, pausing his count.

His grandma sat up. “Well, I’m not sure all of them do, but we could certainly go see if my books have anythin’ about it.”

Sam hurriedly got up, before trying to help up his grandma.

They both walked at a steady pace before thumping up the wooden steps to the porch. His grandma peeked through a window and bit her cheek, before telling Sam that she’d retrieve the book and to stay outside. He plopped down onto one of the wicker chairs and patiently waited.

The backdoor opened after a few minutes, and Adeline held a simple lavender colored book, with dark words engraved on the front, almost in cursive.

She opened it to a page, with pictures of the stars filled with black boxes, dots and lines to convey reality onto paper. With each constellation, a list of names and numbers showed what stars made up the design.

She slowly knelt down and watched her grandson flip to the next page with the precision of a medical operator, careful not to tear any pages. It was a trait that always astounded Adeline of the young boy.

“Sam, can I flip to the summer section?” She soon asked, fingers hovering above the corner of the page he was on.

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” The page she landed on was about the middle of the book. “Now, I have a challenge for you.”

“A challenge?”

His grandma smiled, “I want you to pick a summer constellation from this book. Then when you find a good one, we can try to find it together. Does that sound fun?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, before nodding.

The porch light wrapped everything in a soft yellow. The smell of pine trees and flowers being carried with every breeze, and the blinking of the lightning bugs were almost like the stars had been brought down to earth. He looked up, the wind tousling both of their hair, and her warm brown eyes fondly staring at her grandson.

- - -

Darlin’ found Sam laying on the roof, washed in moonlight. They sat down, hands digging into the rough texture of the shingles, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He hummed.

They lifted themselves away from him, taking in the sight of their mate and brushing his hair away from his face. They went to lay down next to him, but then something caught their attention. They raised their eyebrows, now eyeing the book lying above his head. “What’s this thing?”

“Just. . . somethin’ from the past,” He shared.

Darlin’ scooted a little further up to it. They opened the cover of the very worn purple book. Its corners were bent, and the pages were yellowed, but it was still mostly in-tact at the spine. They flipped open to the first few pages.

“Wow. . .” Darlin’ hummed. “A stargazing book from the 1940’s. Now you’re really owning up to the old man title.”

Sam silently rolled his eyes.

Darlin’ frowned at his lack of response to the tease, and chose to lay closely next to their mate. Once comfortable, they rested their pinkie over his to ask for permission. Sam curled his finger over theirs and faced them.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” They muttered, glancing back and forth between his silver eyes.

“I know Darlin’, it’s alright.”

He gave their pinkie a squeeze before gazing back up at the sky. They didn’t expect him to say anything else about the book. They knew that his past was hard and understood how it brought up unwanted feelings.

“It’s from my Mamaw. One of the books we used to read together,” He took a deep breath before exhaling the rest of his thoughts, “She gave it to me before I ran away.”

Darlin’ eyes widened.

“I’m not sure if she knew the future. . . or if it just happened to be luck, but I took that book with me when I left. . . it helped on the bad nights.”

They laid in silence for a minute, the crickets chirping away in the dark.

“I wish I could’ve gone stargazin’ with her one last time,” Sam suddenly whispered. He pursed his lips together to keep his wanted tears at bay. He lightly shuddered in a breath, “But she used to say that she hoped she would live in the stars when she passed. So in a weird way, maybe she is stargazin’ with me.”

Darlin’ slowly wrapped their hand over his, their thumb rubbing circles over his skin. “She sounds like she was a good person.”

A breeze swept over them.

“Yeah. She was.”

~~~~

As always, I have no ownership or rights to these characters, stories, or franchises. I write this to appreciate the content Redacted ASMR/audio makes. Anything I write is not official in their stories, other than using moments from the original story line. I make no profit from this.

Please don't steal.