#slight blush but can be attributed to getting used to her as a friend he was still too lost in the yukito sauce

[brighteststar707]

Parallels

You carry parts of past lives with you. You can't help it, you're made up of all the people you've loved before.

A reset theory idea I revived from a years-old draft about picking up traits from people you spend a lot of time around (as I'm quite prone to doing🤭).

There has always been this strange familiarity to you. Even back in the early days, it always felt like you were someone Saeyoung had known for years.

He likes to tease you about being easy to read, but it's more than that. The things he recognises in you are things he has grown to love so much in his closest friends.

He loves to tell silly jokes just to hear you laugh. When he promised you a life that would be happy and without worry, he meant it. Your laugh is infectious, addicting even. A laugh from you is an affirmation to someone as insecure as him.

It took him a while to catch on to the way your giggles resemble Yoosung's sometimes. It's not every time, but more than enough times to be a noticeable quirk of yours. The slight hiss of air escaping through your teeth, the precursor to a proper, real laugh.

That was the first parallel he drew. But it was not the last.

He thought he was imagining things at first, making connections where there weren't any to be made. But then you teasingly called him honey for the first time, truly affectionate and sugary-sweet and it was impossible to not think about how he had seen Zen do the same thing before to make fans of his blush. Of course, this trick worked just as well on him when you did it. When you were in these moods, you were magnetic, more so than even Zen could be.

There is something about how, during discussions, you pause to gather your thoughts right before you're about to conclude a point. You have told him you do it to try and collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence so you don't jumble everything up. He thinks it's smart (and cute). It's something he is trying to implement in his life now.

He also knows it's something Jumin practices and advises others to do too. On occasion, during RFA gatherings, Saeyoung watches you and Jumin have a conversation and fall into similar patterns of speech. It's mesmerising, like watching two mirror images.

It is only after a few years, after getting closer to Jaehee at all that realises there are similarities between the two of you too.

He sees a small echo of her in the way that you tackle challenges, not just the resilience he has always known you're capable of but the way you can dissect a problem down to its core and handle it piece by piece. In the tone and cadence you use when instructing others, kind but deliberate, with no room for doubt.

But she's also in your excitement, in the way your voice builds up and rises in pitch when you're talking about something you love. If it wasn't something he recognised from your first weeks together, he'd attribute it to your many musical movie nights.

It wouldn't be fair to say that these traits are identical to theirs. They're things that are so inherent to you, he couldn't imagine you without your funny hiss-laugh or the cadence of your voice when you're measuring out your words. He finds comfort all the same in the little overlap between you and his friends. It may puzzle him sometimes, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

The cherry on the cake was one day when you were chatting and you scrunched your nose before telling a joke, in the same way he knows he does sometimes. His heart swelled three sizes that day and he wouldn't stop teasing you about it.

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[firstdove15]

You know what else doesn't get old with CCS rewatches? Pinpointing when Syaoran starts falling for Sakura. 😂

[jackoshadows]

It’s just the little things that don’t particularly stand out but add up to give us an idea of what Jon’s life was like growing up.

Bran thought that sounded grand. He remembered Benfred Tallhart, a big bluff loud boy who had often visited Winterfell with his father, Ser Helman, and had been friendly with Robb and with Theon Greyjoy. - Bran, ACoK

It’s very likely that quite a few of the sons of noble lords were not good friends with Jon Snow on account of his bastardy. This explains in part why he is seen as ‘sullen’ by characters of high birth like Theon Greyjoy and Alys Karstark.

She blushed. “So I could meet your brother. Oh, there was some other pretext, but that was the real reason. I was almost of an age with Robb, and my father thought we might make a match. There was a feast. I danced with you and your brother both. He was very courteous and said that I danced beautifully. You were sullen. My father said that was to be expected in a bastard.” - Jon, ADwD

Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.“  - Arya, AGoT

“Only Robb and his baseborn half brother Jon Snow had been old enough to be worth his notice. The bastard was a sullen boy, quick to sense a slight, jealous of Theon’s high birth and Robb’s regard for him.” - Theon, ACoK

There’s a reason Jon is ‘Sullen’ and he has a right to his emotions to being treated differently to his siblings and yet the people around him attribute his behavior to his bastardy. It’s the nature, it’s in the blood of a bastard to be sullen - the prejudice without any examination of the underlying reasons for why a bastard would be uncommunicative and resentful.

Jon finds himself in the uncomfortable position of being neither here or there - he is not of the smallfolk nor is he of the noble lords. I think that’s why he and Arya bonded so much and identify with each other.

Arya too is in the same position, high born and yet unable to live up to her parent’s expectations of what that entails. Beth Cassel, who is Arya’s age, gravitates towards Sansa’s ladylike ways and Jeyne Poole bullies Arya with encouragement from Sansa. Arya’s friends were the serving girls and now I wonder if Jon Snow made friends among the WF workers like the stable boys.

We know that Alys Karstark visited Winterfell and is it mentioned in the books if any of the Mormont girls - Dacey and Alysane, Jory, Lyra and little Lyanna Mormont - visited considering Bear Island is so far away? We know that Arya traveled with Ned to White Harbor. I can see her and Wylla Manderly getting along famously.

I think that’s why Jon and Arya form their own packs on their individual journeys and find it easy to make friendships with society’s undesirables. Jon with Sam, Grenn, Pyp, Matt, Toad, poachers and outlaws, freefolk and prostitutes. Arya with Gendrie, Hotpie, porters and mummers, ropemakers and sailmenders, taverners, brewers and bakers and beggars and whores. These people don’t judge Jon and Arya and find them lacking as much as high born society does.

[booksofkingdomsandcourts]

Nessian Modern AU: Proposal

A “sequel” to the drabble here that I posted for Nessian Week. As always, what started as a drabble spawned a full-length oneshot. Anyway, writing Nessian was a joy and I look forward to writing more for them in the future. Enjoy!

Warning: Gets a little NSFW near the end because, you know. Them.

           Cassian could feel the little velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Were his hands shaking? He was sure they were shaking. Oh god, what if he dropped it? It probably wouldn’t go anywhere, they were pretty far from the edge of the balcony, but it would certainly be embarrassing.

           His smart watch buzzed and he looked down at it to see a text from Azriel that said Dude, you’re practically sweating through your suit. Chill the fuck out. Cassian looked up and glared over the table at him. Azriel made a little “calm down” motion with his hands, and Cassian was so wired that if they’d been sitting closer he would have decked him. Luckily, Nesta was engrossed in a conversation with Emerie and Mor and wasn’t paying attention. The way everyone kept glancing at Cassian he was sure that she would have noticed something was going on by now, but she seemed unaware.

           Of course, the party was already all about her, she just hadn’t seemed to realize that they were (hopefully) going to be celebrating more than one thing. When she had gotten accepted into law school Cassian had promised her a celebration for the ages, knowing it could double as the perfect chance to pop the question. He had tried to keep it on the down-low, but his brothers had seen right through him. As soon as he had said, “So I’m thinking about planning a trip to Vegas to celebrate Nesta getting into law school. I just want to do something really special for her, you know?” they had turned to him with matching grins and said,

           “Oh yeah? Just a casual trip to one of the most spectacular cities in the country?”

           “Any special shopping you need to do first?”

           Cassian had swung at them while they dodged and laughed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, it was just that he worried that someone would let something slip to Nesta and ruin the surprise. But then he realized there was no keeping everyone from knowing, because he had to ask Feyre and Elain for their blessing (they gave it readily, with squeals and big hugs), and then he had to ask Emerie and Gwyn to help him find out about rings. Now he sat with what he hoped was the perfect ring in his pocket, showy but classy, with two black diamonds set on either side of a shining two carat white diamond. Shiny and noticeable but…tastefully so, he hoped. That was what Emerie and Gwyn had reported, and really, he should have guessed that, because Nesta liked to be noticed, but only in a way where she was respected, or at least revered.

Now they sat on a private balcony for a dinner service Rhys had helped Cassian book overlooking the Vegas strip, lights and fountains glittering around them, the noise of the strip a pleasant background hum. They had all the usual suspects—Azriel, Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Amren and Varian, Elain and Lucien, and of course, Gwyn and Emerie. Everyone Cassian thought Nesta would want to be here, and the usual plus ones that had to be invited either way. He knew Nesta wouldn’t want a true Jumbotron-style public proposal, but surely this was okay, right? Just their friends? He didn’t think she’d want no one to see it, and yet—

           “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He started, almost jumping out of his skin. She laughed. “What, did I startle you, sitting here exactly where I’ve been the whole time? Where are those judo reflexes now?”

           They all had a nice buzz going, though they were refraining from getting really messy until after dinner. Nesta was maybe the most openly happy Cassian had ever seen her, smiling and laughing and shining in a way that he had never seen before. He knew she was really proud to finally be going to law school after all this time. He could only hope that after this dinner her good mood would be doubled, not dampened.

           “Anyway,” Nesta continued, scooting her chair closer to his and sliding her hand dangerously up his thigh. “Could I steal you for a minute after dessert?”

           She looked fucking stunning tonight. Not that she didn’t always, but in that little black dress with her perfect tits tastefully on display, her lithe legs in those heels, and her hair swept up and away from her neck, Cassian might have asked to marry her even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. The only thing keeping his libido in check were his nerves, and if she said yes, it wasn’t going to be much of a competition between the two anymore. But until then….

           Cassian put his arm around her shoulders, trying to act natural. “I think we’re going to have cocktails then head out and hit the Strip again.”

           Nesta raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. So it’ll be a while before we’re back in our room for the night. I was thinking we could just take a minute.” She moved her fingers on his leg again and with her other hand tilted his head to hers for a kiss. “You look so fucking good in that suit baby,” she whispered against his mouth.

           God, he couldn’t wait to marry her. He lost himself for a second, drinking in the feeling of her lips on his, her warm hand against his thigh. She had to say yes. She had to, or Cassian wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

           “Get a room!” Lucien called from the other side of the balcony. Cassian heard Elain chide him.

           Nesta pulled away and whipped back, “You are here on courtesy invite only, asshole.”

           “Nesta!” Elain complained.

           If there was anything that would put a damper on Cassian’s marriage plans it was that if he married Nesta and Lucien married Elain, he’d be stuck with the little shithead for the rest of his life. Then Cassian looked at Nesta, already laughing with Emerie again, her hand still resting on his leg, and knew that he couldn’t even pretend. Nothing could cause him to hesitate.

           That had to include his nerves. Now that they were finishing with dessert, the servers would be waiting for his speech before bringing out the cocktails and champagne. If he waited too much longer, Nesta would begin to wonder what the holdup was. Fuck his nerves. The last thing he was going to let keep him from marrying Nesta was himself.

           So Cassian stood, taking Nesta’s hand and standing her up. Her face brightened, and she gave him a look through her eyelashes. Then it turned to confusion as he started leading her out onto the balcony, in front of everyone.

           “Um, I was thinking we’d go inside,” she whispered to him, but he could hear the question in her playful tone. What the hell are you doing?

           What he came here to do.

“Everyone?” he said, just loud enough to beat the ambient noise of Vegas below them. They all turned to him from their scattered little tables, and he hoped Nesta wouldn’t read into the eagerness on their faces. Here it was: the main event.

           He didn’t let go of Nesta’s hand as he continued, “I want to thank you all so much for coming this weekend to celebrate the most incredible woman any of us have ever been blessed to have in their presence, soon to be the best attorney this nation has ever seen.”

           Everyone clapped as Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Cassian, stop.” But she was smiling.

           He didn’t stop, but instead continued, “It has been such an honor to get to be the one by her side through all she has accomplished these past few years. ‘Now Cassian,’ you might be thinking, ‘surely some of that can be attributed to her incredible fitness coach.’ And you would be right,” he said, and as everyone laughed good-naturedly, he heard Nesta mutter, “Nevermind I fucking hate you.” He wasn’t facing her, but he could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

           “But in all seriousness, Nesta is the most amazing woman I have ever met. If you all could see her behind the scenes, how hard she works, how much she cares about her family and her friends,” Cassian paused to take Nesta’s other hand, turning her to face him. There were a hundred specific little things he could list, but knowing how easily she was embarrassed, he would leave it at that until they were alone. “I think you’d be pretty in love with her too.”

           There were a couple of “aw”s from the crowd, and Cassian was pretty sure Lucien’s was genuine. Nesta was blushing, but Cassian was glad to see she was still smiling. “Cassian, how drunk are you?" she laughed.

           “Just enough to fight my nerves,” he replied honestly.

           Her smile froze, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What are you nervous about?”

           He gave her a grin that he was sure looked nervous as hell. “Would you be mad if I told you I might have had an additional motive for planning this trip?”

           He watched as her face changed, putting the clues together just as Cassian sank down onto one knee. She pulled her hands out of his, putting them both over her mouth as Cassian fished the little box out of the inside of his jacket and popped it open. He looked up into her eyes, wide as saucers now, and said, “Nesta Archeron. You are the strongest, sexiest, most capable, most remarkable woman I have ever been fortunate enough to cross the path of. I love everything about you, and I love everything about us. Marry me, Ness. I think we both know this is forever—let’s make it official.”

           She made a slight keening sound. Her face had turned very red, and Cassian could see that she was trembling. But at his question she started nodding frantically, and she choked out a, “Yes. Yes, yes.”

           Their little audience erupted into cheers as Cassian slid the ring onto her finger and stood. Before he could even kiss her, she pulled herself against him with crushing force, burying her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering as she pulled in big, heaving breaths. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Then, after a moment without her breaths settling, Cassian said, “Hey, are you okay?”

           “Yes,” Nesta said, pulling away just enough to talk. Her face was red and streaked with heavy tears. Her breaths were still labored, and Cassian suddenly realized she was genuinely hyperventilating. “Yes, I just, oh god, I can’t—” The words came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath, still crying. She buried herself back in his chest and he realized she was trying to hide her hysterics.

           “Okay, okay,” Cassian said quietly, hoping to calm her down before she made herself light headed and passed out. “Let’s step inside, okay? Are you okay to move?”

           She nodded, gasping. He gently put his hand on her waist and guided her past the tables. The rest of the party watched with concern, but he mouthed we’ll be right back as he led Nesta inside.

           The space inside was mostly just a hall to the balcony, so Cassian pulled Nesta aside to the little alcove by the bathrooms so they would be hidden from the big glass windows. As soon as they were out of sight he pulled her back close to him.

           “Just tell me this is happy crying,” he said.

           “It is,” Nesta said thickly with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

           “I’m sorry,” he said, slowly stroking his fingers down her back to calm her. “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have planned something private for you.”

           “No! It was perfect,” she said. “Everything was perfect. I—I didn’t know I’d react like this.” She was still sniffling. “I’ve never really imagined my own engagement. I—I never thought I’d love someone this much. That someone would love me this much.”

           “I love you that much and more,” Cassian said, meaning it with everything he had. “I would marry you tonight if you wanted. We’re in Vegas—pick any venue and we can make it official.”

           She laughed. Her throat still sounded thick but her breathing had returned to normal. “Oh no. We’re having the most grandiose wedding anyone has ever seen. If I’m getting married, everyone is going to know. And I want a ten thousand dollar dress.”

           “Deal,” Cassian said without hesitation. Nesta’s heels already brought her much closer to Cassian’s face than usual, but she still had to press herself up an extra inch on her toes to kiss him. Cassian leaned down obligingly, and now feeling the warmth of her body, the cold press of her ring against his jaw as she cupped his face, sent heat settling at the front of his pelvis.

           “Now what would you say if I told you to drop your panties,” he growled against her mouth.

           She smirked. “I’d say I would.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to whisper in his ear, “But I’d have to be wearing some.”

           Cassian groaned, sliding his hands up under the hem of her dress and indeed finding only bare skin. “Fuck, Ness.”

“I was hoping you’d get handsy and find out during dinner,” she said. “But you had other things on your mind, apparently.”

“From now on I promise to always put my hands up your skirt at dinner to check if you’re commando,” Cassian said.

“At every dinner,” Nesta said, kissing him again. “For the rest of our lives. That better be in your wedding vows.”

“For the rest of our lives,” he repeated.

“For the rest of our lives,” she echoed again. Then she kissed him again, passionately, slipping her tongue over his lips.

He pulled his hands out from her dress and opened the door to the bathroom beside them. “Get in,” he commanded, voice a tight snarl. Nesta took her time, sending him a sultry look through ruined makeup as she swayed her hips and made her way into the single-person room. Cassian followed, locking the door. She stayed with her back to him, watching in the mirror as he slid his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook on the door. She licked her bottom lip as he rolled his sleeves up just a little, to try and make sure he wouldn’t soil them. He met her eyes in the mirror, and he read her intention in the look on her face. She leaned forward and braced herself on the sink.

           “Alright then,” he chuckled, undoing his belt and unfastening his pants to slide them down just over his rapidly hardening cock. He shoved the hem of her dress up to expose her bare ass and said, “Better make sure you’ve got a good grip on that sink, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”

*~*~*

           Cassian made his way back out onto the balcony, put back together on the outside but with his head still swimming with the look on Nesta’s face in the mirror as she finished around him. Evidently someone had made the wise call to start cocktail hour without waiting for them, and the laughter he heard around him sounded a lot louder and messier than it had when he’d left. Gwyn and Emerie quickly departed for inside, makeup bags in hand, to help clean Nesta up for the rest of the night. Cassian was swarmed with congratulations, and he ordered a scotch on the rocks to keep him busy while he waited for his fiancée to reemerge.

           When Nesta reentered the party she was almost knocked to the ground by her sisters, and she begged them not to make her cry again. Rhys motioned to a server who brought out a bottle of champagne Rhysand had specially reserved for Nesta and Cassian (Cassian didn’t even want to know how much it cost), and Nesta popped the cork to raucous applause. Elain slapped them both with Just Engaged! sashes to wear for the rest of the night, and through it all, there was never a moment that Nesta and Cassian didn’t have some form of physical contact, be it holding hands or hips against each other or an arm around the shoulder. Cassian caught the way Nesta kept looking at her ring, tilting her hand to make it glitter in the lights. Then she would look at him, and she would smile, and as they headed out the Strip to celebrate, Cassian felt happier than he ever had in his entire life.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader

A/N: Continuation of my fic and I am 👀 in love with this! I want to write about Hux’s speech for reasons so enjoy the build up 😅

Warnings: Hux is annoyed, Ren is annoyed. Poe is in pain, mentions of torture and mind manipulation. Hux geeks out over Starkiller Base. Also follows a bit of TFA.

Word Count: 4842

Read part 4 on AO3 here.

He was in the office early, not being able to sleep had some perks. He stared at his datapad, he’d written out the order for a shuttle to take you back to Arkanis once they’d reached Coruscant, his finger hovered over the confirm button but he just couldn’t seem to do it. He knew how soul crushing being trapped on Arkanis could be, although your upbringing had been completely different to his it didn’t mean you were any less trapped. Men had so much more freedom in the society of Arkanis and he knew exactly what he’d be sending you back to. Why was he bothered? He trailed a finger over his lips, his eyes never leaving the datapad as he sat back in his chair. He couldn’t ignore the feeling that arose in his chest every time he thought of you, the warmth that spread down to his toes when you looked at him. There was no denying Hux was conflicted when it came to you, he had never been in this situation before and he hated how he’d been caught up in the ridiculous romanticised notion that it could work with you here. His little daydream bubble had firmly burst. He knew he wanted you to stay in your quarters but then how was that any different to sending you home to be imprisoned again just in different chains. He leaned back in his chair, his bare hands rubbing his face when the door to his office flew open.

“Sir!”

“What is it Dopheld?”

“We are approaching Coruscant, Sir.” He needed to make this decision and quickly. Ren, with his band of not so merry men were about to rejoin the fleet and Hux knew you had already pulled the man child's attention. He was running out of time and he hated the feeling of losing control. Get it together! You witless worm….

“I assume Ren is ready?”

“He is being rather impatient.” Hux hummed in acknowledgement. It would be useful to have Ren shadowing him on the planet, he could make use of his talents.

“Tell him I need him to meet on the landing pad, only him. I don’t need the cretins.”

“Yes Sir!” Hux stood, he could make the decision about you later. He straightened his tunic and maneuvered his hands into his tight fitting gloves. He carefully ran a hand over his hair before stepping out onto the bridge to oversee the approach to Coruscant. This he could do, this is what he found relaxing.

Of course it all went smoothly and he marched to his shuttle with purposeful strides. He had a meeting to attend to with some of the other Generals from other ships, he hated the socialising but having Ren there meant he might be privy to some information he normally wouldn’t be. He was so caught up in his thoughts, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he steeled himself for what was about to happen he didn’t see you until it was too late. He had to do a double take, you were walking towards his ship flanked by a pair of troopers and followed by Phasma. Hux’s heart rate increased as he noted the dress you were wearing, although similar in colour to the one on Arkanis it was a different style. The material flowed around your legs with each step, your shoes ringing out loudly on the polished floor. You walked with purpose, and a confidence that he could only admire.

“What is the meaning of this?” He questioned, his eyes flicking between you and Phasma.

“I am to accompany you, I know a few of the Generals you are meeting today. No doubt news of our nuptials have spread and my father would want me to make it known, especially in the Core worlds.” His mouth opened to reply but no words came out and you cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Come on Phasma.” You sauntered up the ramp, Phasma dutifully following and Hux had no doubt she was smirking behind that shiny helmet. He nodded before following, not enjoying this flustered feeling he had.

He desperately tried to ignore you, forcing himself to stare straight ahead so hard he could feel the warm blush in his cheeks. Thankfully the ride down to the surface was short and Hux exited first, his heart dropping slightly when he saw Ren waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp.

“Walk with me.” He snapped at the force user, but Kylo had seen you already. His mask looked at you for a moment before complying with Hux’s demand.

“You brought her.” He stated coolly from the mask.

“Not my choice I assure you.”

“She could prove useful.” Hux stopped abruptly, his gaze swinging to look at Kylo and he hoped the fury he felt right now was coming through in his expression.

“Whatever you want with her, it's not going to happen. She is my wife, not some spy or plaything for you to torment.” He started walking again when he heard your heels come up behind him, Kylo following silently along. “You know what to do,” mumurmed Hux just as the doors opened.

You held the smooth glass in your hand listening to General Pryde drone on about some new possible class of ship. He was an old friend of your fathers and it was the only reason you were still talking to him. Your gaze frequently swept the room, always falling on the stiff posture of General Hux. He looked so uncomfortable here and it became more apparent that socialising was not his strongest attribute.

“Please excuse me General,” you murmured with a smile, gently resting a hand on his arm.

“Yes of course,” he replied as you feathered your lashes at him before cutting across the room to Hux. There were a few other women here but none of them seemed interested in talking to you and that suited you fine, though maybe it had something to do with your silver shadow. Only the slight clank of her armour told you she was following you wherever you went. As you approached the small group Kylo’s helmet turned to your direction and you felt that sensation you’d experienced in your quarters. You lifted your chin feeling the tendrils withdraw when he felt the barriers now surrounding your mind. You had taken to the training and surpassed everything that had been asked of you in record time, purely through determination. Whether it was to protect yourself or please Hux you weren’t so sure.

You wanted to touch Hux, to place a hand on his arm but from what you’d managed to get out of Phasma touch was not something the General tolerated. You had accepted the information, realising that the few times you had been alone with your new husband there had been some sort of physical touch between you and it created a warm feeling in your heart. It’s what made you not want to give up on him.

The conversation ground to a halt at your arrival to the group, the men shifting slightly in your presence and you realised you’d interrupted something rather important.

“Forgive me gentlemen, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense! Join us! Maybe you could tell us some gossip about the General here,” a laugh went round the group as one of the other Generals nudged Hux with his elbow. You could see the embarrassment written all over his face and his ears flared with the blush that was creeping across his skin.

“Actually, I came to steal my husband for a moment if that’s alright?” Kylo tilted his head slightly as all the others nodded enthusiastically.

“Not too long mind, we have things to discuss.” You smiled brightly, leading Hux away to a quiet corner. Phasma stayed next to Kylo, the pair of them surveying the room, drawing glances and whispers from many people in the room.

“What do you want?” You tried not to act offended at his tone, you’d noticed when Hux felt uncomfortable he couldn’t control the way he came across. There was no denying you were apprehensive after what had transpired in his quarters with his anger and the threat of you being sent home.

“I thought you could use a moment to gather yourself,” you murmured. If you could get him through this maybe he’d let you stay on the Finalizer, if it meant you staying in your quarters then so be it. You’d take anything over going back to Arkanis and residing in that house alone. He didn’t reply, his eyes still not doing the honour of alighting on you but now wasn’t the time for an argument. “What has got them all in such a state?” You asked. “Such a gathering would only happen if something momentous was happening?”

“It’s about Starkiller.” You frowned. You’d never heard of such a project but then why would you? Hux looked around making sure no one was nearby before leaning slightly towards you. “I’ll explain more when we’re back on the ship. Now if you’ll excuse me…” you watched him walk back to the group, the man hadn’t relaxed at all and you debated spending the rest of the evening at his side. But that meant being near Kylo and you would rather not, the man may have a helmet on but you could feel his gaze on you and it made your skin crawl. You nodded at Phasma and she came over to take vigil at your side.

“Can you tell me anything I need to know?”

“I’m sure the General will fill you in when he’s ready,” she replied in her crisp voice.

“Damn it Phasma. He’s going to send me home if I don’t do something.”

“The request was never confirmed.” You turned to look at her shiny silver helmet, seeing your own expression of surprise reflected back at you. “He has been in his office all morning. He had plenty of time to put in the request for a ship to take you home.” This gave you hope, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze fell on him once more. How you wished you could get him to open up to you, he claimed he had. Telling you things he had never told anyone before but he was still encased in those barriers he surrounded himself with. You’d been told he doesn’t like being touched and yet your mind replayed his hands on your shoulders, his hands on your face as he kissed you. Your General was conflicted when it came to you it seemed. You took a sip of the bubbly drink in your glass, all you needed was time.

Hux was tired, being around so many people for so long, having to talk, not to mention coming face to face with a few who he had no good memories with. Seeing you talking to Pryde had made his blood run cold, the way you batted your eyelashes and touched his arm made Hux want to curl into a ball. He knew what Pryde was capable of, he had scars from that man, physical and mental. He closed his eyes for a moment to take a breath, he concentrated on you, the soft way you looked at him. The fall of your hair, the cut of your dress and how you just seemed to look radiant in whatever you wore. He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders and neck before looking back at his reflection. He hated the stubble that grew across his cheeks and chin, shaving was such a chore but he did appreciate the motions, the precise control he had over the blade as it slid over his skin. He splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a towel and drying his face and chest off. He ignored his reflection as he got dressed in his bedroom, he disliked his body very much. He hated seeing the scars that littered his pale skin, the worst were on his back and sides, long stripes of raised skin, the handiwork of his father and Pryde. They used to get drunk together, taking out their bad moods on him whenever they felt like it, although his father certainly didn’t need the help of alcohol to abuse his son.

Hux fastened up his uniform, finally turning to look in the mirror now he was covered, his hair flopped over his brow and he realised it needed cutting soon. The very idea made his heart race that someone else had to put their hands on him, someone holding a blade. He slicked it back but noticed the front raised slightly and he pursed his lips in displeasure, it was misbehaving already he was going to have it cut in the next couple of days. He did toy with the idea of Phasma doing it but she’d probably slice it all off with the announcement she’d done him a favour. He turned to grab his coat, he really did like this piece of his uniform, it made him stand out from the rest, and marked him as The General of his own organisation. As he exited his quarters his thoughts went to Starkiller, it was coming together and the reports said it would be ready in literally days. He couldn’t wait, this is what he’d been waiting for, the opportunity to do something noteworthy. What he had in mind would change the Galaxy forever and such a task would hopefully grant him the title of Grand Marshal. He would finally be able to exercise control over the Navy and the Army, he was already the youngest General seen in generations, why shouldn’t he set his sights higher. Ambition, determination, the sense of glory, these were the few things his father had bestowed upon him and he had used them fully to his advantage.

“Good Morning General.”

“Lieutenant,” he murmured in greeting as he walked onto the bridge, adjusting his gloves.

“Not much to report aside from Commander Ren has left on a personal mission.” Hux raised an eyebrow still adjusting his gloves to how he liked them.

“Pertaining to…?”

“The map.” Ah. Of course. Ren, letting his personal feelings get in the way yet again. The man really needed to learn to control himself, so hot headed and that is when mistakes were made. Hux clasped his hands behind his back, his ship was hanging in orbit above the planet Jakku and he already hated it. The pale surface hinted at heat and sand all the things Hux disliked. To be perfectly honest he hated being on the surface of any planet, he preferred to view them from above from the safety and cleanliness of his ship.

“Is he down there now?”

“He is. The Commander took Captain Phasma and a division to the surface.” Hux refrained from sighing, of course he’d take Phasma, she never missed the opportunity for a scuffle.

“Let me know when they have retrieved the intel.”

“Yes, General.” He turned, satisfied that everything was running smoothly but he had no doubt Ren would bring some trouble back with him. For now, he had to see you, he hadn’t forgotten he promised to tell you about Starkiller and it gave him a slight thrill to share this with you.

He knocked gently on your door, trying not to remember the previous time he was in here but he couldn’t stop the ghost-like feel of your lips against his and he subconsciously raised the tips of his fingers to trace his mouth. His hand snatched away as the light of your room spilled over him, his heart rate almost seemed to triple at the sight of you. The smile you bestowed upon him was not one he deserved and he couldn’t bring himself to return it as he stepped inside.

“Good Morning General,” you said softly. “Care to join me for breakfast?”

“Just some caf will do.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” You asked, pouring him a cup. You gestured to the cream and sugar but he shook his head, preferring it black and bitter.

“I hadn’t forgotten to tell you about Starkiller.” He pulled the coat off his shoulders in one movement, hanging it carefully over the back of a chair. “I realised I had some time while…Ren does what he does.” You went to sit down and automatically his hands were on your chair. He wasn’t sure why but his upbringing always surfaced while he was around you, the pleasant and not so pleasant. He had watched the men around him and how they treated the women, his father had not been a good role model in that regard but his step mother hadn’t exactly been the nicest and he could see why Brendol had treated her the way he did. They had deserved each other.

He sat opposite you, the cup warm in his gloved hands, the rich aroma permeated the air around him as he lifted the cup and took the first sip, he almost sighed with relief at the bitter tones bringing his tongue to life and hitting the back of his throat. One of the few pleasures he allowed himself was a decent cup of caf.

“I’m assuming Starkiller has been a closely guarded secret?” You asked before nibbling on a piece of cooked bread.

“It has, the plans were found buried among the Empire archives under the name Project Celestial Power. The idea was to contain quintessence. A dark matter, very volatile and the Empire never succeeded. They chose to focus their attention on Project Stardust which we knew inevitably led to their downfall.” His eyes rose to find you staring intently at him hanging on his every word. He was used to his Officers paying attention, they had to, it was their job but he never expected someone wanted to hear him speak.

“Stardust, was that the Death Star?” He nodded trying not to be surprised that you knew anything about it, of course you did. You had been brought up among the Imperials as much he had, of course you’d know snippets of information that other people would not be privy to.

“Well we managed it, with the technological advancements over the years we were able to find a way to harness the power quintessence and turn it into phantom energy. It’s a limitless power source and this will provide the First Order with the power it needs to bring all the star systems into line and fall under our rule. It’s nearly ready….” He looked deep into his cup, still shocked that this was finally coming to fruition. He’d been waiting so long, biding his time before bringing the might of the First Order down onto the rebels, criminals and scumbags that made up the New Republic. He was going to make himself even more invaluable to Leader Snoke.

“Where do you get the power from? Surely no power source is limitless?” Hux allowed himself a smirk, that was the beauty of this machine.

“Clues in the name,” he offered smugly. “It drains the power of the very stars themselves, it gathers the energy in stages, directing it straight into the planet's core where we use the natural magnetic field to store the energy as well as a fail safe containment field we have applied to the crust of the planet…”

“It’s a planet? You’ve made a planet into a weapon?” Hux’s gaze met yours across the table, seeing the wonder flowing from your eyes and he felt his pulse feather in his neck as he swallowed.

“We have. Would you like to see it?” He asked softly.

“Yes, yes I would.” He got up, a sense of excitement coursing through him as he headed for the small holotable in your room. He entered his personal access code and began to swipe through the files until he found what he was looking for. He barely noticed you come up beside him, the round blue holo image appeared before you both and he enlarged it with a flex of his fingers. He straightened, his shoulder gently bumping yours as you leaned in to look at the slowly spinning image.

“What’s this?” You asked, pointing at the large round opening on the side of the planet.

“That’s where the energy is released,” he leaned and pointed out the thermal oscillator, explaining how the energy was gathered in stages and then when the containment fields were dropped the phantom energy would be freed. “Lots of calculations have to be done before it can fire, but once it does nothing can stop the energy on its path except something with the mass of a planet.”

“But what if you fire it and something is in the way?” Hux spun the image and tilted it to show you the rocket ports. “We can move it, turn it to whatever angle we want to create the trajectory we need to hit the target.”

“Oh, Armitage….” You whispered, your eyes wide as you regarded the picture before you. In the awe filled silence he suddenly became aware of how close you were, your body was slightly turned to him, the warmth of you already beginning to seep through his uniform. Your scent clouded the air around him and he couldn’t help but breathe you in, although he hated Arkanis he could only describe you as smelling like home. His eyes tracked over your face, studying every little motion, the flicker of your lashes, the way your lips parted slightly, the pull of your brows as you pondered over everything he’d said. He could get thoroughly lost in you and again his mind flew to the kiss, until your gaze magnetised to his. He felt frozen, his feet were glued to the floor and as much as he body screamed at him to look away he couldn’t. “It’s glorious, this could really cement the First Order as the new power in the Galaxy,” you breathed.

“That’s the intention.” He murmured back. He jumped slightly as his commlink sounded loudly and he knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“General, Commander Ren has returned. With a prisoner.”

“I have to go,” he exclaimed, swiping the image down and erasing his code. He grabbed his coat, pausing when you came into his line of vision.

“Here,” you said, offering him a new cup of caf. “I think you’re going to need it.”

“Yes, I believe I am.” He reached, his fingers covering yours momentarily as you passed the cup over, the burn of your skin coming through his gloves more than the heat of the cup and he found himself wanting to stay. You were a calming influence on him, he relaxed with you and he really didn’t want to deal with whatever awfulness Ren had brought aboard his ship.

“I hope I can see you later?” You asked, stepping after him as he moved away. The door opened and he turned to look at you one last time.

“I will try.”

Hux straightened his shoulders as he walked, Ren and Snoke were so desperate for this map, but where Ren wanted to collect it Snoke had made it perfectly clear that destruction of the map was an option. He could see the troopers outside of the interrogation room and Kylo striding down the corridor.

“Who have you brought on board?” Asked Hux curtly over the screams that were coming from behind the closed door.

“A resistance member who was given the piece of the map we are looking for. The old man gave it to him, I know he did but it wasn’t on him.” Hux tensed as Kylo’s hand flexed over his saber.

“Try not to kill him before we’ve had a chance to extract all the information out of him.” Kylo tipped his head to the side.

“By all means General Hux,” he said in mock politeness. “You can go first.” The door opened and Hux stepped into the room leaving the force user outside. He grabbed the datapad and looked at the information on the screen.

“Prisoner 8910542….”

“That’s a mouthful isn’t it?” The man gasped from his position in the chair. Hux refused to acknowledge he’d said anything and continued.

“Known as Poe Dameron, a star fighter squadron commander for the scum of the Galaxy known as the Resistance.” He smirked. “Where is your precious Princess now? You know there is no way they can rescue you from here.” Hux stepped forward, noticing the blood already oozing from wounds on the man's face, his dark curly hair matted and damp from sweating. The way his brown eyes slid to the floor Hux could tell the pilot already knew he would die here. “We could come to an arrangement if you tell us what you did with the map.” Hux eyed him, not expecting a reply but waiting for one anyway. “Alright, XZ 1594…” a droid zoomed to the General’s side. “Continue the interrogation, use all available techniques.” The pilot's eyes widened, his mouth clamping shut as the droid ominously advanced. Hux carried the datapad out of the cell and watched the vital signs of the prisoner in the corridor.

He had no idea how long he had to put up with Ren pacing up and down the corridor like a caged tooka, it just highlighted his lack of control, of discipline and Hux found it highly amusing that a force user of Ren’s calibre lacked discipline. Hux swiped through the information that was being logged from the droid, the question had been asked 300 times already, techniques 2265 and 6304 had already been used. He couldn’t help but admire the man’s resistance to the torture he was enduring. Ren paused before Hux who didn’t even look up.

“Not yet,” he stated calmly, enjoying the huff of annoyance that fell from the mask before he resumed his pacing. Another hour passed and the question had been asked nearly 800 times with no answer, technique 3333 had been implemented and still nothing. Hux remotely commanded the droid to conduct procedure K8-A4. The reaction was instant, the prisoner’s vitals went off the charts, red lights flickered and his heart rate rocketed, the oxygen levels dropped dangerously and Hux gestured for a trooper to go and investigate. Poe was convulsing violently in his bindings, blood smeared across his face mixed with a thick sheen of sweat, the trooper had to act quickly, flipping the pilot's tongue out of his throat and freeing his airway. Hux sighed loudly, disappointed his methods didn’t work and he told the droid to stand down. He checked over the vitals of the passed out prisoner before turning to Ren. “When he wakes, see what you can get out of him.”

“He won’t be asleep for long,” the threat slithered from his mask and Hux refrained from shivering. The door closed firmly behind the Commander and Hux settled in for another wait. He wasn’t going to let Ren do this without supervision.

The prisoners heart rate picked up and Hux was pulled from his relaxed state, the droid was still activated and it was recording the interrogation, Hux could see Ren was crouched before the pilot. Words were exchanged, nothing of consequence until Ren rose.

“Where is the map to Luke Skywalker?” Hux watched with interest as the pilot's face changed from confusion to one of pain. He twisted, fighting an unseen force as Kylo exercised his hidden talents on the mind of the prisoner, a scream so loud tore from his chest and suddenly everything went silent, Hux tapped the screen but the droid had undergone some substantial damage. The door opened and Ren emerged, his fists clenched tightly against his sides.

“It’s in a droid. A BB unit.” Hux nodded at the new information.

“Well then, if it’s on Jakku we’ll soon have it.”

“I’ll leave that to you,” Ren said dismissively as he began to stride off to god knows where. Hux bristled but in all honesty he’d rather be in charge of this and succeed where Kylo had failed. He handed the datapad to a trooper and headed to the bridge without a word.

“Lieutenant!”

“Yes, General?” Answered Mitaka.

“Send a squad down to Niima outpost, the droid is used to being around people and it will seek help, tell them to look out for a ball droid, a BB unit. I want this droid found or destroyed.” He demanded before heading to his office.

He dropped into his chair with a sigh, removing his gloves he ran his hands over his face. This is not how he thought this day would go but having a Resistance member on board could prove useful. He just needed the pilot to recover and stabilise before he interrogated him again, this time for the location of their hidden base so he could be rid of the Resistance once and for all.

[dzamie-oc]

Cynder's Spyro Picnic

AO3 Link: Cynder's Spyro Picnic Furaffinity: Cynder's Spyro Picnic Fandom: Spyro the Dragon (Video Games), Legend of Spyro Rating: Explicit Relationships: Cynder/Spyro the Dragon Characters: Spyro the Dragon, Cynder (Spyro) Summary: Cynder and Spyro planned a picnic. Spyro ends up being the food.

cw: NSFW (or nsft for filters), vore, dubcon, femdom. If you are a minor, or any of these are upsetting to you, DO NOT READ THIS FIC.

Once again, MINORS DNI

Spyro woke up to the feeling of a comforting presence moving away from him, then the unmistakable sound of his girlfriend getting up. Though hesitant to wake up, himself, the purple dragon cracked open his eyes to get a look at Cynder’s stunning, sleek form. The dragoness grunted as she stretched like a cat, arching her back as though to show off her flexibility and curves. Her wings, too, extended as far as they could, then flapped a couple of times, blowing some air in Spyro’s face. He smiled, and as a yawn from Cynder set off one of his own, he pictured the view from behind the dark dragon.

And then, in spite of the rest of his body, one part in particular stood tall, ready for action. Cynder turned to look at him, smiling. “Well?” she asked, “you ready to join the waking world with me?”

Spyro grunted. “Can’t the serial savior of the Dragonlands sleep in on occasion? The temple won’t get much dirtier with just another hour...”

“He could,” Cynder conceded, “orrrr, he could remember that he has no chores today, leaving him and his mate ample time to have that picnic they planned.”

“No chores? That’s great!” the purple dragon said, grinning, “that means even more time to sleep! See you in a couple hours, Cyn!” With that, he closed his eyes and laid his head down, then made exaggerated snoring noises that almost covered up the sound of Cynder’s claws clicking against the floor with her approach.

Suddenly, a quick, sharp pain in his tail sent a jolt through his system. Spyro immediately shot to his feet, nearly tripping over himself and his wings in his panic. He swung his head around to look at his tail, where he spotted a smug-looking Cynder holding the tip in her mouth. “Looks like Malefor’s influence hasn’t entirely left, after all these years,” he said, tugging his tail free.

His mate dropped the tail and stepped up against him, ducking under his orange wing. Her body was always a bit cooler than his, which he attributed to his firebreath and her lack of it. Subconsciously, Spyro extended his wing over her, hugging her black scales against his purple. “Then maybe some cute, purple dragon should show me what’s so nice about being on the side of good!” She winked and slipped from his light grip, using the shadow of his own wing to keep it open. A deft swish of her tail hooked their empty picnic basket.

And then started their game. Cynder was easily first to the door, and flicked her tail to the side, wiggling her hips to give Spyro a tantalizing view of the pink slit hidden below. Spyro rose to the challenge, and as he stepped through the door, he affectionately nipped at her horns. A light jolt of electric breath sent a shock down her spine. Cynder gasped and let out a small “eep!” as she stiffened; that was just the reaction the purple dragon needed to know he’d struck home. He dashed through the door before she could get her revenge that easily, and a glance behind him showed his mate hot on his tail. Nonetheless, Spyro was first to the next door. With a smug smirk, he spun around and sat while he tugged the door open, hind legs splayed slightly to show off his member like she’d teased him. Cynder slowed to a trot as she approached, then gave him a quick peck on the muzzle. Wind magic flowed from her jaws, swirling around the male dragon and sending pleasant tingles all over... just enough to make him miss her taking off to the next set of doors.

Back and forth, the dragons raced through the halls, stopping only to flirt with each other; the other occupants, Spyro reasoned, must have either been away or knew to avoid the duo while they were in this mood. Eventually, Cynder burst onto a grassy area, with Spyro soon barreling after her. And although the black dragoness soon slowed, her mate was not so lucky. Spyro shouted a warning, and Cynder turned just in time for him to plow into her side, sending them tumbling through the field.

“Ugh…” Spyro groaned, shaking his head, “did someone get the number of that train?”

“You WERE the train,” Cynder replied, her voice muffled from her position partially under his body.

With some effort, Spyro got up and shook himself, then offered a paw to help Cynder up. “Because I’m an unstoppable powerhouse, right?”

For his help, Cynder gave him a quick lick on his snout. “Oh, I dunno, I think I can freeze you in your tracks easily enough,” she teased, twining her tail around his. Spyro felt himself blush hot as his mate sidled up next to him, her flank against his and her tail twisting further around his. To make matters worse, the dragoness draped her wing over his back and purred low in his ear, “my, it seems I forgot to put food in the basket. It’s just us here, all alone, with no food.”

Spyro wasn’t about to be outdone, however. He nuzzled her neck and gently lapped under her chin and cooed back, “we’re clever dragons. I’m sure we’ll find something to do to occupy ourselves.” With their tails still entwined, he raised his and took hers with it. By the sound of Cynder’s breath coming slower and heavier, and the familiar scent of her arousal reaching his nostrils, Spyro’s play had worked.

“A-and what do you suggest we do, my love?” Cynder tucked her chin down, pinning Spyro’s head between it and her neck; surrounded by her scales, the male dragon smiled and sighed.

“Good question.” He unwound his tail from hers, strutted ahead of her, and laid down on his side. With a confident smile, he shifted his hind legs to show off the pink shaft poking out from his scales. “Maybe take a look around and see if anything catches your interest?”

Cynder’s dark scales tinted ever so slightly red, and her tail whipped behind her. Spyro’s smile became a grin when he saw it stay slightly raised as she approached him. The dragoness set one paw against his chest... and then shoved him. The world spun as Spyro rolled once and landed flat on his back under the shade of a nearby tree. Cynder stalked closer, licking her muzzle; when he tried to get back up, her forepaw was there again to hold him down. A slight weight crept up on his legs and wings, with a gentle coolness to identify it as Cynder’s shadow magic. From experience, Spyro knew he could only break free with his own powers, but he also knew he wouldn’t want to.

“Ah… I love this view,” Cynder said, grinning down at him. Spyro’s heart raced in his chest, the purple dragon unable to stop a hot blush and a broad smile from creeping onto his face. “The purple dragon of prophecy, pinned under me. Forelegs bound nice and snug-” she gently batted at his paws; Spyro tried to take her paw in his, but all he could do was strain against the shadows. “...and, more importantly,” the dragoness continued, turning around, “his hindlegs open. Everything on view, to browse at MY leisure.” The male dragon shuddered as she spoke, eager for her to “browse.”

Still, Spyro managed to push his libido aside to crack a grin. “So this is the plan of the dark Cynder! You won’t get away with this; even if it looks like I’m pinned down, my friends will hear me call for them!” He licked his broad muzzle, and when Cynder ducked her head down to look at him, they shared the same, sly smile.

The black dragoness didn’t respond for a few seconds, and Spyro followed her gaze to stare at her shapely, scaly rear. Her thighs and tail swayed back and forth above his head, dark scales framing the ruby ones between them, themselves drawing his gaze to the wet sliver of pink flesh visible in a slit in her scales. A drop of Cynder’s arousal fell onto his muzzle, and with an idle flick of his tongue, he lapped it up. Too small to taste, but he knew that wouldn’t be a problem for long.

“And how will you call for them, Spyro, when you cannot speak?” This was all the warning he got from his mate before that alluring sight drew swiftly closer, filling his vision with her ruby-red belly scales, and he felt her scales against his lips. The soft, smooth sensation soon gave way to a squishy heat as Cynder shifted her weight and ground her pussy against him while her tail slid against his - recently dulled - horns. Spyro once more poked his tongue out, only this time, it was not a drop of her juices, but enough to coat his tongue and more. It was a familiar, mildly sour taste, at once both sticky and slimy in his mouth, and one which he had grown to love for what it meant.

As his tongue probed deeper, filling his ears with wet smacks and squishes, Cynder added a new sound to the mix, a shaking exhale, audible even though her tail and thighs surrounded Spyro’s head. And when he tilted his head down to get at her clit, swiftly finding the sensitive nub of flesh with his tongue, his mate’s very un-villainous squeak was music to his ears. He swirled around a few times while Cynder kept grinding on his nose, then went back to probing the depths of her pussy, while her warm, slimy juices trickled down his muzzle.

As Spyro continued to explore Cynder’s soft snatch with his probing tongue, he became vaguely aware of her pressing against his belly-scales. A moment later, he was suddenly made MUCH more aware of his mate when a soft, wet sensation wrapped around his hard shaft. The dragoness suckled on his draconic pride, making him moan into her slit; out of habit, Spyro tried to reach up and grab her ass to get even deeper into her. Naturally, however, her shadows held him fast, reducing his efforts to a mere wiggle.

With an audible, wet pop, the heat around his cock vanished, followed by a playful giggle from his mate, one which only grew when the needy male tried to buck his hips up to meet her, only to once again find his body bound by shadowy restraints. “Oh? You want more?” Cynder purred. Spyro grunted in affirmation and nodded his head, rubbing his snout against her drooling slit.

To either side of his head, Spyro saw her powerful, black thighs shift positions, just before the dragoness dropped her hips down hard on his face. He closed his eyes as that soft, hot embrace slid against - no, around - his snout. The heat of her netherlips stopped just before his eyes before retreating. Rather than pulling off of his muzzle, Cynder instead grinded her drooling snatch against him; Spyro could hear her moan even over the wet "slck... slck..." of her inner walls clenching around his snout.

Breathing through the corners of his mouth, Spyro got back to work, exploring his mate’s insides and twisting his head back and forth. Cynder gasped, and this time, she muffled her moan with Spyro’s cock, turning into a low, guttural groan. Her own tongue, warm and slick and oh-so-talented, swirled around the male dragon’s member. With his vision surrounded by scales of ruby and obsidian, his snout held in place by the tight grip of Cynder’s netherlips to dominate his smell and taste, and his ears filled with the repeated squishes of her well-lubricated pussy walls and her needy, desirous moans, Spyro could barely take the sensation of his lover’s maw and tongue wrapped possessively, hungrily, around his rock-hard member. Each time he felt himself tense for his orgasm, however, Cynder drew away, leaving him straining helplessly against her shadows, and his cock twitching, close but not quite to his limit.

After what felt like an eternity of carefully-controlled bliss, the weight against his face increased as Cynder sat back with a cry of ecstasy; Spyro leaned into her, shutting his eyes once again and feeling her soaking-wet pussy walls slip over his face. Her hot, soft snatch took the base of his horns before everything went tight. His lover clenched around him as though she would never let go, forever claiming him for her perpetual pleasure toy. A brief moment - a split second - was all the relief he got before the quick, repeated spasms of Cynder’s orgasm tugged, squeezed, and kneaded at his snout, and although he would’ve loved nothing more than to taste her at that moment, trying would have had him bite his tongue off when the dragoness forced his muzzle tightly shut.

Finally, the weight around his head and snout vanished, and Cynder’s heavy breaths became the loudest sound around him. Still covered in her juices, Spyro didn’t dare try to open his eyes, but could hear her footsteps in the grass nearby... and just like that, he remembered where the two of them were. Well hopefully, he thought, nobody else in the dragon temple had seen them. He tested his limbs again, hoping to wipe her arousal from his face and “repay” her for the intense facefucking; to no avail, however, the cool and light-but-strong grasp of solid shadows still held him fast.

“Oh! I made an absolute mess. Here, let me help with that...” Something soft, warm, and wet pressed against his face - doubtless Cynder’s tongue - but only managed to replace her pussy juices with her saliva. “How’s that, Spyro?”

Unable to tell if she was asking seriously, Spyro decided to answer seriously. “Probably better, but it’s hard to wipe off my eyes with my paws bound.” A moment later, he felt warmth creep into his scales. Or, rather, the slight chill of Cynder’s shadows left him. Immediately, Spyro wiped his eyes clear and blinked them open to stare up at the gorgeous visage of the most lovely dragoness he knew. He grinned at her. “Some picnic, huh? You got a nice mouthful of cock, and I ate my fill of pussy.”

Cynder dipped her muzzle, and the warm touch of her tongue glided up the side of his muzzle a couple of times. “Mm-hm. We should have these picnics more often. I rather like the available meat!” Then, she changed sides, her forked tongue lapping gently at his scaly lips.

Spyro laughed. “Oh, by all means, feel free to have as much of the available meat as you want! Especially with a tongue like that.”

“Believe me, Spyro, I thoroughly intend to.”

Cynder licked just under his chin, then a bit lower, and lower still, working her way, tiny lick by tiny lick, down his lower jaw and neck. Spyro’s heart beat faster in anticipation of the dragoness reaching her destination between his legs, still standing proud and waiting for the much-needed attention. So he raised his head, brow furrowed, when she suddenly stopped mid-chest. However, when she started going back up, inching her way back to the tip of his snout, he set his head back, groaned, and smiled, his paw covering his face.

“Oh, you tease. One of these days, you’re gonna skip this charade and just blow or fuck me, and I’m gonna be too surprised to cum.”

The dragoness’s tongue glided achingly slowly up the underside of his neck and chin, warm drool quickly cooling in the air as she left it. Spyro felt her paw against his chest, where he knew she could feel his heart race from her affections. “Well, you’re in luck, my love,” Cynder said in a low, husky voice, “because I really, REALLY want you inside me. Right now.”

As he stared down his muzzle at her, she playfully nipped at his snout and gently held it closed between her jaws. Spyro’s smile at the cute display soon faded and fell as she continued to watch him with an increasingly smug look on her face.

“Oh no,” was all the purple dragon could make out before Cynder opened her jaws again, wider this time, and treated Spyro to a clear view of the pink inside of her maw, before her head darted forward and swallowed his snout in one go.

He groped blindly at her head and neck, but her paws swept his forelegs back along his body, and another swallow introduced his whole head to the grip of her throat. It wasn’t as tight as her pussy was when she came, but almost as hot, and the pressure didn’t let up. A number of firm points pressed into his neck scales; Spyro’s hide was tough enough to resist her teeth unless she really wanted to hurt him, and, as she tugged his head up and forward to bring him into a sitting position, it was clear that she didn’t.

Nonetheless, the dragon struggled. Twisting left and right to free his forelegs, unfurling his wings, anything to brace against her hot, gentle jaws and stop - heck, even slow - her feast. To his relief, she released his limbs, but before Spyro could push her head back and away, the dragoness wrapped him in a tight hug. Chest to chest, the purple dragon felt her heartbeat and breath against his own, and her warm breath ran down his neck and back, punctuated by a soft, tender grunt. The intimate display relaxed Spyro slightly, just enough for Cynder to stretch her jaws wider still and fit them over his wing-wrists and chest. Inside her snug throat, Spyro’s own neck was similarly made to bend along with it; as the dragoness’s drooling jaws slid down over a purple-and-gold torso, Spyro’s muzzle dipped past her collar, the magical metal expanding to let her prey in.

“Nnf, Cynder, please, I was gonna hang out with Sparx and stuff!” Spyro protested. The constant squeezing made it difficult to open his mouth, let alone speak, but Spyro managed. His mate-turned-predator once again freed him from her scaly grip, but that was little comfort, with his scaly chest now only a large bulge in her usually-slender neck. Again, he tried to move his trapped limbs, but all he got for his troubles was another swallow. His snout squeezed through a tight ring of muscle and into a more open, and somehow hotter, chamber.

Just then, a familiar soft, wet feeling slithered down his underbelly, ahead of Cynder’s jaws. As his head slipped fully into her gut, his other “head” sent spikes of pleasure up his spine when the black dragoness’s tongue curled around his tip. Spyro let his legs and tail go limp as she tenderly swirled the warm, wet muscle around his shaft, and Cynder eagerly took the opportunity to lift him up and tip her head and body back, sticking Spyro’s scaly purple ass towards the sky.

Her tongue ran up and down his needy cock even as the hard length slid into her jaws proper, carefully protected from her teeth. Distracted by this strange variation on a blowjob, Spyro hardly noticed as, bit by bit, he slid deeper, his cock slipping from her tongue to her throat while he helpfully curled his neck and body around to conform to the shape of her gut. Each swallow squeezed his cock between his drool-slicked, scaly underbelly, and Cynder’s soft, wet, squishy throat. Some part of his mind registered the heat of her insides creeping over his legs and tail, or the sensation of her tongue wrapping leisurely around the yellow, cone-shaped tip of the last appendage before it, with the rest of his tail, was finally slurped inside, but Spyro was far more focused on trying to thrust against the throat above his curled-up form.

Finally, his pink tip slipped into Cynder’s stomach, granted a reprieve from the constant stimulation. Spyro pants, catching his breath as his hindlegs and tail tumble in with the rest of him. It’s a tight fit, but Cynder seemed to have no difficulty taking all of him. With some careful wiggling and creative limb placements, the male dragon manages to right himself as well as he can while curled tightly into a ball of scales. “Alright, very nice,” he grumbled, “now let me out. I had plans for later today!”

Her stomach squeezed a bit more firmly against his body. As the pressure moved around, Spyro realized Cynder was rubbing her swollen belly. “Mm, once I’m ready. You feel good in there. But... I’ll give you some kind of release, if you know what I mean.”

“Cynder, c’mon! I know we took awhile here, I’m sure Sparx is gonna be waiting for me!” Cynder’s paws rove over more parts of her gut, and after a few seconds, Spyro splays his hind legs apart as best he can, giving in. “...lower and to the right.”

Aided by her paws, Spyro found her hot, slimy stomach walls pressing against his dick, shifting slightly as she tried to stroke him off through her gut. He braced himself against her stomach, awkwardly squirming against their soft embrace. The two dragons soon worked themselves into a rhythm, Spyro panting in the already hot, humid air in Cynder’s gut as he grinded his twitching, sensitive cock against her insides, and Cynder kneading between his legs, through the layers of muscle, scale, and fat. Deep in her body’s embrace, surrounded by slimy flesh grinding back against him, tension built in Spyro’s body, driving him closer and closer to climax.

With a lustful groan, Spyro gave himself over to pleasure, thick, white cum spurting from his cock, only to immediately land on Cynder’s stomach walls, rubbing against the purple dragon’s scales - not that he could tell, with the dragoness’s heat and slick stomach juices all around him. Spyro breathed hard, recovering from the release, and affectionately rubbed his partner’s belly from within. “Thanks, Cyn...” A few seconds later, he pushed out again, firmer, and reiterated, “but seriously, I was gonna spend time with Sparx today. How long are you keeping me?”

“Oh, I’ll let you out for dinner. And if you really want to spend time with your dragonfly friend, I can always go get him for you.”

Spyro was silent for a few seconds as her words sunk in, then he groaned. “Please don’t. I like your stomach better as the sole occupant.” Cynder’s gut shook with laughter, before starting to slowly sway back and forth as she walked away to spend some alone time with her tasty partner.

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Hogwarts au?

a/n: i read this and thought “my time has come”. my two great loves: harry potter and star wars.

- games of destiny - 

"I don't understand why you come to the matches when you don't like Quidditch to begin with." Padme says.

Satine glares, “I do like coming."

Padme rolls her eyes, "Hardly, all you do is make comments about how barbaric it is."

The crack of a bat colliding with a bludger echoes through the stadium and 

Satine flinches. Padme was right of course, she thought the whole concept of trying to hit the opposing teams player with something so brutishly named as a Bludger was beyond violent. It was the kind of savagery she could never get behind.

She goes to respond, but stops herself when she sees the Quaffle flying right towards them. Another reason she hates the sport; spectators weren't always safe either.

A flash of ginger dressed in red and yellow appears in front of her, intercepting the ball just before it reaches the two of them and she hears Padme begin to laugh. 

"Oh yeah, that's why you like coming."

Satine turns to glare at her friend, "That's preposterous; and you're certainly not one to talk. Everyone knows you're only here to keep on eye on that Seeker of yours."

Padme shoots a glance to the sky, where Anakin's form can just be made out among the clouds and smiles, "Yes, well, at least Anakin and I are open with our feelings for one another, unlike you and Obi-Wan who keep pretending like you aren't completely mad for each other."

“Obi-Wan and I are both too focused on our studies to think about anything else, Padme.”

Padme snorts, “And yet he’s the only thing you’ve kept eyes on this entire time.”

Satine can feel the blush creeping up her cheeks as Padme speaks and it's only made worse when Obi-Wan flies by them again and flashes her a dopey grin, one that she can't help but return.

Beside her Padme snorts, "Absolutely smitten the two of you are."

She bites down harshly on her lip to refrain from smiling. Yes, absolutely smitten indeed.

-----

After the match (a win for Gryffindor, thanks to Anakin) she follows Padme as she treks quickly through the snow, the young girl impatient to see her boyfriend. As much as it annoyed Satine, she found it awfully cute at the same time. They may be two years apart, but she counted Padme as perhaps her closest friend at school. 

"Congratulations." She said as they finally made their way to the pair of boys, "Another consecutive win for you all, thanks to you Skywalker."

Anakin slings an arm around Padmes shoulders and smiles, "We would have won even if I hadn't caught the snitch. Obi-Wan here is a master with Quaffle, he certainly would have led us to victory."

Satine dares to look at Obi-Wan, blushing profusely when she finds that his eyes were already trained on her. Perhaps Padme was right, they were awful at hiding their affection for one another.

"Well," She says returning his smile, "Master Kenobi does have a nice ring to it I suppose."

This time Obi-Wan blushes, the action tugging delicately at her heartstrings and she wonders when the mere sight of him being so adorably embarrassed started to make her heart flutter so. They had vowed to one another that their studies were more important than pursuing any type of relationship, yet the feelings she had harbored for him hadn't faded. In fact, she would say they've only grown.

When she looks to Anakin and Padme, she finds they were too engrossed in one another to have even noticed the stolen glances between the two. 

"Well then, Master Kenobi," She begins, watching as the two young lovebirds march off towards the castle, "Perhaps you'd join me on a walk around the grounds?"

She holds out her hand, gesturing for him to take it and she's thoroughly amused by his unsure look. For someone so confident in everything he does, he was awfully skeptical of her request.

"If you insist."

She grins as he gently tugs her closer and links their arms together, the rush of emotion that courses through her at his touch elicits such a warmth in the pit of her stomach and she has to remind herself to breathe. Yes, Padme was mostly certainly right. She may have despised Quidditch and all of its barbaric attributes, but watching Obi-Wan made it just a bit more bearable and it's certainly the reason she keeps coming to their games. 

"You must be freezing." He comments, tugging her just the slightest bit closer than propriety would dictate, "Do you want my scarf?"

She bites down on the bottom of her lip to refrain from grinning too hard, "Can you imagine the scandal if Ravensclaws head girl was caught in Gryffindor colors?"

Obi-Wan laughs and unloops his scarf from around his neck, clearly ignoring her half-hearted rejection of his chivalry, "Can you imagine the scandal if she were to die of hypothermia?"

She stops when he untangles his arm from hers long enough to drape his scarf around her neck, his scent suddenly encompassing her fully and invading her senses and it briefly makes her dizzy. 

"There you go." He says softly.

She thinks back to her time in hiding with him, back when her family had been hunted by the death eaters. He and Qui-Gon had taken her in for the summer and vowed to keep her safe until she was able to return home. It was then of course, with all the long nights moving from safe house to safe house, that the clandestine nature of their relationship had begun. 

They had agreed however that once it had been deemed safe for her to return home that they would part ways. The last two years of their schooling had been fast approaching, and she had agreed with him; their futures were on two different paths. He was destined to be an Auror, and she to work at the ministry. But now, staring at him in the fresh snow fall, she wonders if they would truly be destined for demise had they chose to stay together. 

"Satine?" He questions in wake of her silence.

"Sorry," she says lightly, "Lost in my thoughts."

The smile he gives her is soft and so reminiscent of when they were together, "All good ones, I would hope."

“Memories,” she says, “Just memories.”

They had remained friends of course; it would have been next to impossible not too. After all, their respective best friends were too much in love with one another to be apart for long, which ultimately led to them spending time together. And she could tell - in the uncanny way she’s always been able to read him - that he knew what she meant.

“I can’t help but wonder, Obi-wan,” Suddenly she feels out of breath, like the air had been sucked out of her lungs and it takes a good bit of strength to force the rest of the words out, “How our futures would turn out if we hadn’t came to our agreement all those years ago.”

There’s a sudden sadness in his eyes and it breaks her heart ever so slightly. “Had you said the word, I would sought out a different dream for a career.”

She can’t help but smile, despite the slight aching in her chest as she reaches out and cups his cheek, “I can’t ask you to give up being an Auror. It’s what you’ve always wanted, and I know you want to do Qui-Gon proud.”

Qui-Gon had told him years before that forming such strong attachments would do nothing but hinder his full potential when he finally went off to become an Auror, and Satine had known it was best that she not stand in the way of his destiny. They may be young, but she knew he was meant for much greater things than her.

He covers the hand holding his cheek with his own, tangling their cold fingers together, “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps Qui-Gon was wrong. Perhaps I can have both.”

It’s all that she’s wanted to hear throughout the last two years and, without much thought about anything else, she kisses him.

“We may have different paths,” She whispers against him, “But I’d like to walk them together.”

He kisses her soundly in agreement, and everything suddenly feels okay.

This is why she liked Quidditch.

------

a/n: i hope this was an okay attempt to combine the two worlds. i do love a good obitine au.

[spacehologramcollection]

The Kombat Kast and Music.

A nice fluffy post. As it appears all I’ve been writing recently is smut and Fujin smut at that. One fine man there. A finely aged wine if ever there was one. I’m not even sure what to call this. I guess it’s like The Kombat Kast and your song. Do people still have songs? (Like this is such a 00’s thing: ‘OH MY GOD THIS IS OUR SONG SHUT UP LET ME RECORD IT ON MY PHONE!’)

I don’t own any of the songs.  Didn’t link anything in because I’m sure Tumblr wouldn’t be happy with that. Under the cut for slight NSFW and because it’s a looooong post. I’m going to do a part 2. This was so long.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Slight NSFW below the cut so 18+, little bit of angst, lots of fluff. Mentions of Kano, slight shitpost, it’s at the bottom, because the tea has been spilled. 

Songs don’t belong to me. 

·        Kabal. Song: Morocco

Artist: Moon Taxi. Lyric: Running in circles I was losing my mind, when you found me and you led me to the water just in time, Reasoning: Okay. So, this may just be a self-insert fantasy of mine. But I can imagine this song playing in the background after you get caught in a thunderstorm, you’re drying his hair off and you’re cuddled up in your dimly light apartment. I also think the lyrics speak to your relationship. The verse is talking about been lost and someone finding someone. Post-burn Kabal is very lost, unsure, confused. So, I feel the lyrics really speak to your relationship. Because he literally was running in circles, he had lost his mind little, and you kind of helped. When you tell him ‘This is our song’ he fucking loves it instantly. He doesn’t give a shit if it’s not his style of music. If you say it’s your song, then it’s your fucking song. Will. Put. It. On. In. the. Car. Stryker is done listening to it. When he hearts it, he thinks of you, which always bring about a goofy smile on his face. Pre-burn: I also feel this applies to pre-burn, he was running around with the Black Dragon, slightly lost in life, and like (AU where his shit storm story in 11 doesn’t happen) you pulled him out of that shit just in time.

·        Raiden. Electric Love. Song: Electric Love. Artist: Børns Lyric: And every night my mind is running around her. Then it's getting louder and louder and louder… Baby you're like lightning in a bottle, I can't let you go now that I got I, All I need is to be struck by your electric love, Baby, your electric love Reasoning: Raiden gets two. Lucky bastard. This song has two lyrics that speak to your relationship with the God of Lightening. He’s literally like lightening in a bottle, well in a man, and you got hit by his electric love. It’s an obvious choice. The whole song could be attributed to his feelings towards you, or your feelings towards him. You’re in love with the thunder and lightening itself. It’s a very sweet song. One that you’ve caught him humming along to. Once you tell him, ‘This is our song’ he loves it. Such a cute fucking song for the both of you.

·        Dark!Raiden. Song: Electric Feel. Artist: MGMT. Lyric: Baby girl, Turn me on with your electric feel… You can feel it in your mind Oh you can do it all the time, plug it in, change the world Reasoning: Need I say more? Probably another obvious choice for yours and Raiden’s song. This one has less of a romantic feel, the beat really gives me power/sex vibes when associated with him. So, it suits Dark!Raiden more. He’s more dominant and more in control. He’s also my likely to use his powers to get you going, if you’re into that sort of thing. You’ve probably fucked to this song too. When you tell him it’s your song, he becomes obsessed with it. And whenever he comes on, he’s reminded of that first sinful time he heard it. Your body is electric to him and he loves it.

·        Fujin. Song: Rather Be,

Artist: Clean Bandit. Lyric: We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have travelled land and sea But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be I would wait forever, exalted in the scene As long as I am with you, my heart continues to beat Reasoning: Okay guilty pleasure song, but it fucking bops. This sums up your relationship because your relationship was not only a shot in the dark, because you’re falling in love with a God. You’re unsure if it’s going to work. It’s more than just a long-distance relationship, you’re falling in love with someone who could be in a different realm to you. Literally a thousand miles from you. When he returns, he finds great comfort with just hanging out with you, taking walks, and enjoying your company. There really is no place he’d rather be or anyone he’d rather be with. You wait for him, completely taken back when he arrives. As long as you’re with each other, you’re content and at ease. He misses you a lot but knowing he’s returning to you makes it easier. When you tell him about the mortal custom of having a song with the one you love, he wants to know what yours is with him. You two love this song. He really vibes with it. You have gotten a little drunk and sung/butchered the song together. Good times.

·        Smoke. Song: Ophelia. Artist: The Lumineers. Lyric: Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl like a drug…Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl since the flood, Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love. Reasoning: I totally changed my mind with this one, I originally thought it suited Kabal. But it fits way better with Smoke and your relationship. Smoke is a giant Hipster, and no one can argue with me on this one. So, he loves the band. He’s the one that comes up with the idea for this been your song. He’s unsure of himself. He’s not fully human anymore, love isn’t his forte either. So, it literally is heaven help a fool who falls in love. When you first listen to it, you’re unsure. But when he explains that your constantly on his mind, and he constantly thinks about you. You kind of get the meaning more. That, and it’s a very catchy song. He’ll also, on occasion, sing it to you whilst he twirls you around your apartment.

·        Cassie Cage: Song: Jenny. Artist: The Studio Killers. Lyric: I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead, I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend. Reasoning: The reasoning for this song been your song with Cassie, is mainly due to the fact that you’d always listen to it in her car. No matter the trip. She and you would sing it and vibe to it. You always did wonder with the lyrics if it had another meaning, you hoped it did. So, it comes to no surprise when you share your first kiss to this song. You’re both driving home from the movies, and she’s about to drop you off, the songs just ended and you’re both giggling and the adrenaline is high. Queue a soft kiss between the two of you. Cassie does admit she hopes the song kinda gave it away, she was being very forward, but wanted to like you give you time to see if you felt the same. Que it becoming your song, whenever it comes on in the club, you’re ready to get up and dance. Jacqui is requesting it so she can watch you two groove!

·        Jacqui Briggs. Song: What We Live For. Artist: American Authors. Lyric: We look up at the stars, a perfect night to dream with you Got nineties retro on the radio, our favourite tune I put the pedal to the metal just to laugh with you It's interstellar when it's just us two Reasoning:

This is such a cute song. The two of you live and love 90’s songs and retro music. You both love cute dates involving star gazing, going for drives and your dates are always filled with laughter. It’s your jam. You also love road trips, planning them, talking about them and obviously going on them. Jacqui literally also has the best music taste. It came on your first road trip as a couple. You both kind of looked at each other, your mouths sort of mouthing the lyrics, not wanting to admit it your guilty pleasure song. When you both catch each other singing it, you both smile, and then you turn your solo mumbling act; into the best operatic duet the car has ever seen! Your relationship is also interstellar. You both live life to the maximum and you’re living life to the full. When you ask what your song should be, you both agree on this one instantly. You trust each other both so much, as long as you’re together, you’re prepared for anything including the great unknown.

·        Sub Zero (Kuai Liang):

Song: Almost (Sweet Music) Artist: Hozier. Lyric: I wouldn't know where to start, "Sweet Music" playing "In the Dark", Be still "My Foolish Heart," Don't ruin this on me. Reasoning: A pretty cute reasoning. Why this is considered your song. You chose it because of how he often referred to love as foolish prior to your relationship. That, and when you had your first romantic moment, he did utter the phrase ‘Be still my foolish heart’ and it did make you giggle in the moment. It’s such a Kuai way of saying ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he’s basically a window error noise when it comes to romance. When you tell him this is your song, he’s confused and wants to know what you mean. Once you tell him, he’s kind of into it. It’s a happy sounding song, with a nice beat, and he kind of looks at you when listening to it. If it was to come on shuffle and you were in private, he would remark on it. Smoke once played it and he ended up blushing a little too much. Don’t let Bi-Han know, he’ll never hear the end of it.

·        Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi.)

Song: Would that I

Artist: Hozier.

Lyric: The whole song. Just the whole song. But specific lyrics: With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet… I fell in love with the fire long ago … So in awe there I stood As you licked off the grain Though I've handled the wood I still worship the flame As long as amber of ember glows All the wood that I'd loved is long ago… Oh, let it blaze alright (ooh) Oh, but you're good to me

Reasoning: This whole song screams what a relationship with Hanzo would be like. And it’s just not because of the fire theme either. His heart has been dormant for a while, but when he sees you, it literally rose up and got life back to it. It speaks to your relationship in terms of you too, you’d fallen in love with him a long time ago and had fallen in love with the fire a long time ago too. He’s always in awe of you and you’re always good with him. Your patience is never ending, and he burns bright in your life. You’re falling in love with fire, the warmth, the crackle and familiarity when you love him. When you tell him, this is your song and you’re both listening to it. You swear you see the smallest smile. He pretends like it’s not a big deal. Music is not his jam, not modern music anywhere, but he finds the lyrics soothing and accurate with your relationship. Cuddling with this in the background too.

·        Erron Black.

Song: Home. Artist: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Lyric: Girl, I've never loved one like you

Ah, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you Ah, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you Reasoning: So, it’s not a proper country song. But the lyrics have meaning, and it’s kind of got a folk/country vibe to it. This song fits your relationship, just because the lyrics suit his kind of way speaking. It reminds you of him when you listen to it. Erron hasn’t had a fixed home so to speak of in a while. He’s a drifter, has been for a long time. Until he came to Outworld, he hasn’t really had  fixed location. Nothing to come back to. It’s a lifestyle he’s grown accustomed to and used to. If you’re going to be with him, it’s kind of a life you’ll have to either grow used to too or be prepared to wait for him. Either option you choose, this song fits that relationship. Either his feelings towards coming home to you, or you travelling with him and home being wherever you are as long as you’re with him. When you admit this is the song you’ve got in mind for the two of you. He kind of furrows his brow. He listens to it and he can vibe with it. It’s got a certain country style jam to it; he loves the whistling and he definitely can do the whistle part perfectly. He’s also started affectionately referring to you as ‘the apple of his eye’. You two also have a bit too much whisky and end up singing this. Confusing the fuck out of Kotal and Jade, who are trying to figure out which realm this song has come from.

·        Bi-Han.

Song: I think We’re Alone Now. Artist: Tiffany. Lyric:

Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doin' 'Cause what would they say If they ever knew Reasoning:

Ever since watching the Umbrella Academy, I can imagine Bi-Han, Smoke and Kuai just dancing TERRIBLY to this song. But I digress. This song started as your song as joke. He caught you singing it, he thought it was a jam. Queue you both getting a little tipsy at the Lin Kuei temple and fucking belting the fuck out of the song. You’re both hammered, Smoke isn’t sure how to react, Kuai is dying on the inside. You’re having a great time. You drunkenly both agree this is your song. Purely because, you constantly have to hide what you’re doing, because what would Kuai and the Clan say? Frost couldn’t give a fuck. She just wants to be left out of this. You have had to run hand in hand outside, because he really wanted to fuck you, but they had a full temple. So that wasn’t happening. And in his absolute adrenaline fuelled state, he may have started singing it. He’s not sure if it was out of nerves or if he wanted to make light of the situation .

·        Sareena. Song: Trust. Artist: Martha Bean. Lyric: Don't let history haunt you, just let the mystery guide you I'm telling you now, there's a way (Close your eyes and let me guide you Take you to a place where love can find you) You gotta liberate Find your freedom… Reasoning: So this song is more geared towards personifying Sareena. It’s a song that makes you think about her. She has a pretty shitty backstory and she’s also a fair bit of mystery around her. She’s haunted slightly by her past, has regrets, and in the end found her freedom. She just needs some love guys. That’s all she needs. Love literally helped her find her way and freedom. It’s such a powerful emotion. When you tell her, this song reminds you of her, she doesn’t know how to react. She’s not exactly clued up on pop culture, so you play it to her. She loves it. She suggests it represents both of you. You both heal and guide each other, when you’re together it’s a place of love, and a place you both found together. Who would have thought it?

·        Kano.

Song: Lonely Together. Artist: Rita Ora featuring Avicii. Lyric:

Oh Lord, here we go

I might hate myself tomorrow but I'm on my way tonight At the bottom of the bottle, you're the poison in the wine And I know I can't change you and I, I won't change Let's be lonely together

A little less lonely together Reasoning: Okay. This was going to be a major shitpost. But I thought I’d use this to let people know why I don’t think Kano is like ‘marriage material’ on a serious note. At the bottom so you can skip. The lyrics sum up the relationship pretty well. Kano isn’t the type of guy to actually give us a fuck. You can’t change him, and you never will change him. But at the time you can both feel like you have someone, I guess. I was going to just put ‘fucked with an anchor’ because he can actually fuck himself with an anchor.

[peter-parkers-passport]

Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)

Chapter 11: Just a Nobody

I’m really sorry I haven’t been consistent in updating on this platform, I think I’ll just mass update on here and catch up to speed? Idk, it’s a lot and again, I’m sorry. I’m trying to find inspiration to write!

warnings: Peter being rude, angst, depictions of anxiety… sorry 😬, mentions of death

The pair of them didn’t leave the greenhouse until midnight that night. Papers had been scattered around a workbench in the greenhouse under a single lamplight, covered in formulas that had been scratched and edited past legibility. Lila and Peter made an incredible team, much to their surprise, and within just a few short hours, a new webbing formula had been made.

Peter also walked her home, despite Lila reassuring him that he didn’t have to. He merely brushed off her attempts and bid her goodnight at her door. And despite the crazy events, like her almost dying, she went to bed with a smile on her face. Her crush was a superhero, how could she not?

When she went to school the next day, Lila was tired but cheerful. A light kind of air sat in her chest and put her in a good mood, even with the whispers of what happened the day before following her to her locker. She supposed the feeling of falling in an elevator made things like school more enjoyable since they were a part of living, but she attributed her happiness mostly to the two boys who walked quickly over to her locker as soon as they saw her.

“Hey, Lila,” Peter said, lips twitching in a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys, what’s-?”

“So you know?” Both Lila and Peter looked to Ned, whose expression was unreadable. “About-“ His voice lowered into a whisper, “-Peter’s sticky situation?”

A patch of red grew on the boy in question’s face, and he sent an exasperated stare his friend’s way. “Dude, come on, at least think of a better code name.”

“So you know?” Ned asked Lila again, to which she nodded apprehensively. Her eyes flickered to Peter, who offered an apologetic shrug. When she looked back to Ned again, he looked relieved. “Finally. I’ve really needed this, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it a secret-“

“Ned,” Peter said, “You found out last week.”

“- I thought I was gonna blow it, but I didn’t. And now I can talk to you about how totally amazing this is.” Ned inhaled deeply, launching into a slew of questions. “So how did you know it was him? Are you psychic? Did you psychically connect to Peter, and that’s how he saved your life? Do you have, like, a spider-link now?”

“N-No, it wasn’t anything like that,” Lila answered him, Peter giving her a thankful look that she interrupted Ned’s questioning. She tucked her hair behind her ear before continuing, “Peter disappearing the night before, y-you having the Ch-Chitauri core, and - and the Stark Internship. Just… a lot of it d-didn’t add up.” Lila looked around them to see Michelle walk through the front doors. “Look, I’d b-better go before MJ gets suspicious but I’ll see you guys for fourth.”

Peter and Ned said their goodbyes while Lila walked down the hallway to her friend. Before she could reach MJ, however, Lila was stopped by Betty Brant, who had a fiercely determined look on her face. “Lila,” she practically addressed, her tone was so formal.

“B-Betty,” Lila swallowed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Wh-What’s up?”

“Midtown is running a story on the survivors of the almost-tragic Washington Monument scare yesterday. I need to know that you’ll be available for lunch to answer a few questions with the rest of your team. I would do it now, but I don’t have my co-host.” The last sentence ended with a note of bitterness, and Lila tilted her head in concern.

“Oh n-no, where’s - where’s Jason?”

Betty rolled her eyes, “His mom called him out of first period for some stupid dentist appointment and wouldn’t cancel. I’ve told him time and time again that his mom doesn’t understand how brutally competitive journalism can get in the age of technology.” Her eyes narrowed at the apparently sour thought. “Like, she doesn’t even know how embarrassing it was to see Principal Morita’s fall after the floors were waxed with new wax on Flash’s Snapchat story first. That should’ve been our story, but no, Jason had strep throat.” Her tone grew mocking and she put air quotes around “strep throat”. There was a beat of silence, and then, “Anyways, so I’ll see you at lunch?”

At this point, Lila had been daydreaming of a way to get out of the heated one-sided argument. “Sure.”

Satisfied, Betty nodded. “Good. And don’t talk to anyone else about what happened.” She strode away, leaving Lila feeling slightly confused as she walked over to where MJ was standing, watching the whole interaction.

*****

It didn’t go unnoticed that Lila was becoming fast friends with Peter and Ned. Soon enough, in the span of the next two days, they popped up nearly everywhere in her daily life. For some, it was a welcome addition to Lila’s friend count (now up to three). For others, it was a topic of slight confusion.

“I’m not, like, unhappy for you or anything,” Sophie commented one evening in the flower shop. She was watching Peter and Ned leave through the front doors, the cooler air from the outside falling at their feet. “I just didn’t know you were so close.”

Lila and the boys had just brought over some chemicals they’d nicked from school, and finally perfected the stronger webbing for Peter. It was all discreetly put away in a box tucked underneath spare gardening supplies. The box in question was placed in a corner, out of sight and hopefully out of anyone else’s minds that weren’t Peter’s, Lila’s, or Ned’s.

The door had shut by the time Lila turned back to Sophie, a light blush on her cheeks. “Falling in an e-elevator is a surprisingly easy way to m-make friends.” The flicker of suspicion in Sophie’s eyes disappeared almost immediately at Lila’s reply, and for a moment, Lila had the gut-twisting sensation of guilt. It was confusing: she wasn’t actually lying to Sophie, but she was hiding the truth. Plummeting to her death with Ned by her side did craft a strong foundation of friendship at a remarkably fast rate. And being one of about four people who knew Peter’s secret identity also warranted spending more time together than what was considered normal. Only, she couldn’t tell anyone that last part.

Lila hated that her cover story for spending time around the two boys was her near-death experience, but even she couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Sophie stopped asking questions after her comment, and soon started addressing them with the same familiarity as she would Michelle or her dad.

Michelle, whose skepticism came as easy as breathing, wasn’t as easy to persuade. MJ knew Ned was in the elevator with Lila, and her interest in them hanging out didn’t extend farther than a simple statement of, “Ned needs to download the free VPNs I sent you. I don’t want my network data accidentally getting monitored by the government because he’s using the WiFi at your shop.” Which was fine with Lila, Ned would be one less thing to worry about in regards to her most perceptive friend.

However, with Ned deemed not a problem, MJ’s wariness was focused on Peter. If she thought he was sketchy before, it was nothing compared to how she felt after he started to hang out with Lila. Michelle wasn’t much for holding a conversation with people she didn’t know, but the times where she did talk to Peter, it almost always was staged as interrogation. Lila felt sorry for Peter, for she knew MJ was intimidating, and too smart for her own good. She also knew that Michelle’s intention was a heavily-veiled protectiveness for her friend.

Ted Landry seemed to be the only person in Lila’s life who wasn’t suspicious of her new friends. In fact, he was completely clueless. Peter being around Lila more was merely a correlation to him personally checking on her the night she got back from D.C. The worst part was that Ted told Lila that the reason Peter was starting to be around her so much was because he had a crush on her.

“It just seems kind of obvious,” Ted said, ignoring the choking noises Lila emitted after hearing her dad’s thoughts. He merely patted her on the back as she tried to dislodge the granola that she accidentally sent down the wrong pipe. “I practically did the same thing with your mom, we became inseparable.”

Lila wished above all that her dad’s thoughts were the truth. But the brief look in Peter’s eyes that appeared whenever Liz walked by the three of them in the school’s hallways sent those thoughts crawling on all fours to the back of her mind.

*****

Over the next few days, Lila grew privy to the information Peter was gathering over the last week as Spider-Man. It all started with the bank robbers that accidentally decimated Delmar’s bodega, which Lila learned were capable of doing so with the acquisition of illegal weapons. Weapons that happened to have access to alien technology.

Peter and Ned explained that someone was stealing alien technology and fashioning weapons to distribute on the black market. Their target was Damage Control, whose existence was to be the clean-up crew of the Avengers.

“For lack of a better term,” Peter went on, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hand. That Wednesday evening, Peter had Ned and Lila over after he had perused the streets of Queens as Spider-Man. It was then the two boys filled Lila in on their mission. “But basically this department’s been confiscating all the alien tech and Ultron mess for the past eight years. And the helicarriers in Washington? They’re still working on that stuff.”

“And this guy in the wingsuit… the birdman?” Lila asked, trying to keep up with the nearly unbelievable tale.

A spark emitting from one of Peter’s web shooters had him diving back with his screwdriver. Ned, meanwhile, took the reigns. “We’re pretty sure he’s their leader. But they’ve got this stuff nearly on lockdown. Peter figures he must’ve been doing it from the beginning.”

Lila looked back over to Peter, “Do you know who he is? O-Or any kind of clue?”

The web shooter made a clicking noise that seemed to satisfy Peter. He turned away from his desk and set his eyes back on Lila. Shaking his head, he answered, “No, I’ve got no idea. And he got away with some of the stuff that was in the Damage Control trucks. Best guess, I’ll just have to catch them when they’re out selling this stuff again.” He paused, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And after a moment, he added as an afterthought, “You didn’t happen to catch what Puth assigned for homework, did you? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Peter, dinner’s on the table - Lila!” May poked her head inside Peter’s door. Lila whipped her head around to see her large grin, and heard Peter hastily slam his desk drawer shut to hide his web shooters. “I had no idea you were here!”

“Hi, May,” Lila smiled, a pale pink dusting her cheeks. “H-How are things?”

“Finer than wine, honey. I feel so bad, I would’ve made more food if I’d’ve known you guys were going to be here.” Her lips pursed briefly as an afterthought came to mind. “Actually, it might be better if you guys hit the road.”

Peter stared at his aunt exasperatedly, “Oh, c’mon May-“

“Uh-uh,” her expression was suddenly stern when her eyes fell on him, “If you’re going to ditch class, then you’re not going to have friends over.” She softened her gaze when she moved back over to Lila and Ned. “You guys need a ride home?”

Lila grabbed her backpack, eyeing Peter and feeling confused. Why would he ditch class? Peter’s eyes met hers before answering her with a jerk of the head to his desk, where the web shooters lay hidden.

“No,” Lila finally answered, brushing off Peter’s answer with a wave of dismay. “N-No, thanks. My neighborhood’s just f-five blocks over.”

*****

Betty Brant released her story on Thursday morning. Apparently Jason actually did have a pretty awful tooth infection, and wasn’t able to co-anchor her story until then. When Lila walked into school, the conversation, which had just begun to die down, picked right back up, and attention was back on the academic decathlon.

Everyone at Midtown pretty much knew of Lila and her inability to confidently socialize with peers, but that didn’t stop them from pointing at her while poorly concealing whispers. So she was left to navigate the crowded hallways alone, doing her best to ignore the eyes that followed her and the sounds of the news story reporting on her brush with death. One thing she did manage to catch was Jason saying, “Thankfully, no one was seriously injured, thanks to Spider-Man. Up next, the Spider mania is sweeping the school, how can you show your Spider spirit?”

And Jason wasn’t wrong. The talk of Spider-Man was re-invigorated at the school news’ story, and if they weren’t talking about the decathlon team, they were talking about Spider-Man. Some people wore shirts they bought from street vendors, and talked about how amazing he was. Flash was the biggest proponent of this, boasting about how Spider-Man made a harrowing rescue, pulling Flash out of harm’s way just in time, and giving him a fist bump right afterwards. All of which was untrue, and Charles and Abraham we’re glad to remind everyone around Flash of the fact.

Lila felt a deep sense of pride as she made her way down the stairs and past the mural. She knew Peter must’ve been at school, and hearing all of the positive thoughts everyone had on his secret identity. She could feel it in the air: pride. A sense of pride that one of New York’s own was a hero, a champion of Queens. Even Lila herself felt that pride, but for other reasons entirely.

She ran into Ned first, who was beaming at the television screen in the corner of the hall. The two of them shared a knowing smile, and the pair launched into a quiet conversation about it in the otherwise loud hallways. Ned spotted Peter ahead of the two of them, and pushed around the students in his way. He and Lila met Peter at the foot of the stairs, all three grinning from ear to ear.

“Dude, dude, dude, what is it like being famous when no one knows it’s you?” Ned asked.

Rather modestly, Peter smiled and gripped the straps of his backpack. “It’s crazy,” he whispered, looking around to make sure other people weren’t listening.

“Crazy,” Ned repeated, almost in awe. “Should we tell everyone?”

Peter still smiled, but his head tilted a little in confusion, “No.”

“Should I tell everyone?”

“No, dude, that’s not a good idea.”

Ned looked to Lila, “Lila could tell everyone.”

“I-I would not,” Lila said, briefly panicked. She felt better seeing Peter let out a breathy laugh. “Really, I w-wouldn’t do it.”

Ned sighed, his hopes dashed. “Well, come on, we’re gonna be late to class.”

Lila was prepared to bid them goodbye, since their classes were on opposite sides of the hallway, but Peter didn’t follow Ned. “I’m not going to class.”

Ned looked at Lila and looked back, apprehensive, “You're already in so much trouble for ditching the decathlon-“

“P-Peter, you can’t keep d-ditching school-“

“Would you listen? I figured it out, right?” Peter’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m going to see if my suit can go back to the deal I walked in on the night of Liz’s party and find out where those guys came from. Maybe they can lead me to the wing suit guy, and then I can catch him!”

“But we have a Spanish quiz,” Ned argued.

Peter looked at Ned with an expression that felt a little belittling. He was tired of arguing and clearly didn’t see why Ned and Lila would want him to stay in school. It was a kind of reckless determination that didn’t sit well with Lila at all. “Ned, I’m probably never going to come back here. Mr. Stark is moving the Avengers upstate. So, when I bring this guy in-“

“Dude,” All the excitement from the morning was gone from Ned. “You wanna be a high school dropout?”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” Peter assured him, even though that’s exactly what it sounded like.

“Ned’s right, Peter, you can’t - you can’t just skip school t-to fight crime. High school’s important-“

But Peter wasn’t listening. In fact, he started walking away. “I am so far beyond high school, right now.” And as he turned to a pair of doors that led to the exit, Principal Morita stood in his way.

“Ah, Mr. Parker,” he said, already walking back down the hallway. “Come with me, my office. Ned, Lila, get to class.”

*****

“Here, c’mon,” MJ pulled at Lila’s arm. The girls had a free period, and usually spent it in the library. Lila has fully planned on spending it pretending to do her homework when in actuality she was just going to worry about Peter.

Skipping school just wasn’t like him. Lila thought he was getting caught up in his situation. True, it was extraordinary beyond belief, and there was no way to tell how she would handle it, but she thought Peter had more grit than what he was showing. School was important, almost if not equally as important as the crime Peter fought in the afternoons.

And then there was the issue of Tony Stark, and Peter’s idea of where he stood. Peter had the mindset that he had to prove himself to Tony Stark in order to be fully accepted into a world he’d always dreamt of, but that made little sense to Lila. In her mind, Tony Stark already was accepting of Peter. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given Peter the suit.

Those were the thoughts Lila distracted herself with in her first two periods, anyway. She’d planned on delving further into her worry during her free time next period. That is, until MJ changed their plans. “And where are we going?” Lila asked, allowing herself to be steered by her taller friend.

“I’ve been sketching the kids in detention,” she answered, ”Lila, they’re the perfect inspiration: they basically all just sit and wonder if they’re lives are going to spiral out of control. Like first, it’s detention, next it’s prison. I mean, you can’t get that kind of raw panic anywhere else.”

“I’m slightly worried you seem so excited about this,” Lila muttered, filing into the classroom where detention was being held. Coach Wilson was already perched at the desk, the TV on the stand waiting to play the Captain America tape that was at the ready. Michelle sat at the edge of the classroom, and Lila sat with her, already pulling out her homework.

She thought she got a few odd stares from the one or two kids that were further in the room, since Lila had never been in any kind of trouble in her life. Even though her presence wasn’t mandatory, she was still unsettled at the thought of being so close to a trouble she had no interest in ever being a part of. She only felt slightly better when Peter walked through the door as the bell rang. He eyed her suspiciously, and seemingly answered his own question when his gaze slid over to Michelle, who was already sketching away.

Peter looked antsy. Sitting in his seat, Lila could see the tension in his shoulders as Coach Wilson lazily went over the rules of detention from his desk chair. He proceeded to play the clip of Captain America lecturing the kids in detention, but Lila could tell Peter wasn’t taking in a word of it. She was considering shooting him a text when suddenly he shot up and grabbed his backpack. He marched out of the room without another word.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lila made the decision to go after him. She told Michelle she’d be right back and hurried after her friend. When she caught up to him, he’d reached the row of lockers where he hid things and lifted it one-handed. Despite her worry, Lila watched him in awe, having to take a second to adjust to the fact that he did actually have super strength.

When the moment ended, her sense caught up to her. “Peter!” She called out, jogging the rest of the way up to him. He turned, impatience dotting across his features. “You can’t go.”

“Lila, I don’t have time-“

“But you do,” She insisted. “Y-You do have time. You can’t just - just leave.”

“Yes, I can,” Peter actually rolled his eyes. It stung Lila more than she thought it would. “Look, you don’t understand, I’ve gotta do this for Mr. Stark. Now, I’ve really gotta go.”

He tried to turn away, but in a bold move, Lila grabbed his arm, “T-Tony Stark is a c-certified genius, and even he stayed in school. Why can’t you?”

“Because when the Avengers move upstate, I’ve gotta be there. The best school I could have would be by learning from him. Who knows, maybe - maybe I’ll get a tutor or something-“

“P-Peter, you’re chasing a-approval from someone who already gave it to you. I mean - look at what y-you’ve already done. The whole school’s b-been talking about it for the entire w-week.”

“Lila,” irritation at still being in school was what made Peter grow short. Lila flinched at the tone. “You don’t get it. I can do so much more if he could just see it, that’s why I’ve gotta go.”

“You do so much, Peter. You - you saved my life twice-“

Peter snapped, “Lila, stop. I’ve made up my mind. I can’t just be Peter Parker anymore, you know? I finally have a chance to prove that I’m so much more than just a nobody now. Because while that might be fine for you, it’s not for me.” The words left his mouth harsh and bitter before his mind could even keep up. Peter didn’t even realize what he’d said until he watched Lila take a step back.

White hot anger burned her skin and flushed her face. Hurt came quickly after, and Lila blinked furiously to stop the tears from rushing to the surface. She released a short breath and made eye contact with Peter. He felt bad, she could tell, but he didn’t offer any kind of apology.

So much for being friends.

“You w-wonder what that life is like, Peter? Being an - an Avenger?” Her voice was quiet, more quiet than normal, but the emotion seemed to amplify it down the empty hallways. “I’ll t-tell you. It’s staring d-down at people who are dead for the sole r-reason that pure evil just likes it that way. It’s being unable to s-save the people you love most, and l-living with that when all is said and - and done.”

“Lila, I-“

She angrily brushed the lone tear away that managed to escape. “You wanna hear wh-what I think? I think that if - if Tony Stark wanted you to b-be like him, he would’ve given you an I-Iron Man suit. Instead he gave you the Spider-Man suit. But what do I know, r-right? I’m just a nobody.” She gave Peter, the boy who broke her heart, one last look. “Good luck out there.”

And she turned around, walking away from Peter Parker with a few tears falling down her face.

[flipomatic]

Closed Book Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Author Note: We’re getting into some of that lumity now. Just a bit. I’ve made some assertions about the Blight parents in the last chapter and this one, which I really don’t have any grounds for. This is just how I think they might be, so I’m sure I will be proven wrong in later seasons of the show. Also, the current plan for the rest of the fic is to write and publish one chapter a day until it’s done.

___________________________________________________

The trip to The Knee was approved, with some conditions.

It almost didn’t happen due to the whole Emira and Ed being grounded thing, but her mother stepped up and convinced her father that it would be fine. Emira wasn’t sure how she had pulled that off, her father was notoriously stubborn, but she couldn’t complain with the result.

The conditions were that the three had to return without a single scratch on them, and the twins had to be unfailingly kind to their sister while escorting her.

Both of those conditions had been broken.

The trip itself hadn’t been nearly as safe as expected. The Owl Lady showing up with the human Luz brought a brand new level of danger to the group. As Mittens had complained once before, the human seemed to attract danger to herself.

Emira, Ed, and the Owl Lady had almost been eaten by a slitherbeast, which probably would’ve gone after Mittens and Luz once it finished digesting them. Luckily, the two kids came through and freed them. Amity used the new fire spell to do it, and Emira made sure to tell her how brave she’d been after. Ed ruined the moment a second later by ruffling Mittens’ hair.

Once the Owl Lady and Luz shot off into the distance, that left the Blight siblings to pack up and head back to town. Since Mittens had control of the spell, she could practice it safely at home with a bucket of water.

They went back to their tent and put all of their stuff back into packs. Once that was done, Ed folded the tent back to its regular size with a spell.

Once that was packed, they picked up their backpacks and set off towards town. The stuff was divided between the three of them, with some extra weight for Ed and Emira. It would take a couple hours of walking to get to town, since The Knee was far away.

“Are you sure I can’t bring the bat?” Ed asked as they started walking away from where their camp had been set up. He paused to look back over the trees, as if trying to spot something.

“You don’t still have it, do you?” Emira stopped next to him and asked with hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised.

Ed stuck his lower lip out in a pout. “No…” He said with a sigh. Emira reached over to pat him a couple times on the arm in a ‘there there’ kind of motion. It didn’t seem to help.

“C’mon let’s go!” Mittens called back to them from the trail a few meters away. She hadn’t stopped to discuss the bat and was now waiting at a distance.

“Alright.” Ed was still pouting as he gave in, moving to join Mittens on the trail. Emira followed, wishing the bat farewell in her head.

“Make sure to keep up.” Mittens said pointedly, looking first at Ed then at Emira as they reached her.

Ed raised one hand in a mock salute. “Yes Ma’am.” He had his usual smirk back in place. Emira followed suit, mimicking the salute.

Mittens rolled her eyes, then turned to set off down the trail. Emira glanced over at Ed and the two shared a chuckle before following.

“Before we get back, I think we need to get our story straight.” Mittens adjusted her bag on her back as she spoke, turning her head slightly so that the twins could hear her.

“Not that that’s a bad idea, but I’m surprised.” Ed sped up a little in order to walk next to Mittens. “Miss goody two shoes, suggesting we lie to our parents? What a twist.” He leaned in on Mittens for emphasis, so she fell a step behind to avoid him.

Emira cut in to bring the conversation back on track. “She’s right though, we can’t tell them that a slitherbeast almost ate us.” She shuddered at the punishment that might bring. Forget one month, they’d be grounded for the rest of their lives.

“We’d never see the light of day again.” Ed muttered, clearly imagining the same thing.

“Exactly.” Mittens said with a nod. “So we need to figure out what to tell them.”

“We should just say that you mastered the new spell without any trouble or danger.” Emira thought keeping it simple would be best. “No need to mention the slitherbeast or the Owl Lady.”

“I’m not sure which would be worse to them,” Ed added, “The Owl Lady or the slitherbeast.”

Mittens brow furrowed at that, her eyebrows moving closer together. “The slitherbeast for sure.”

“I’m with Mittens.” Emira had to agree. “Near death is far worse than covenless witches.”

“I don’t know.” Ed shrugged his shoulders. “That Owl Lady is a wanted criminal after all.”

“The Blight family will not associate with those below us!” Emira spoke loudly in a low pitch, imitating the way her father had said it many times.

“She’s been doing a good job teaching Luz.” Mittens interjected, but a moment later her eyes widened and a slight pink dusted her cheeks. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Luz cast a pretty powerful spell today.” Ed mimicked the motion of the ice cannon rising from the ground with his hands. “It was weird how she cast it, looked like some kind of rune.”

Mittens nodded. “She draws glyphs, not any I’ve seen before though. I’m not sure how it works.”

Interesting, Mittens hadn’t seemed to like Luz at all back at the library. In fact, she’d been more upset about Luz reading her diary than the twins reading it. But now, she knew the basics of how her magic worked and had even talked about starting a book club together.

“You seem close to her now.” It wasn’t a question, but Emira was watching carefully for Mittens’ response.

A larger blush blossomed on Mitten’s cheeks as she turned to hide her face, far more than could be attributed to the cold. “N-not really. We’re going to be in the same class and I like to know my peers.” The stutter didn’t give her argument much validity. As Emira had suspected, there was clearly more going on between her sister and the human.

“Riiight.” Ed smirked, also not buying it. “Because you totally stop in the middle of training to wave at all your classmates.” Ah right, that was when he buried Mittens in the snow for not paying attention while they were sparring. She had stopped casting spells to wave at Luz. Very incriminating.

“I would.” Mittens insisted, digging one of her heels against the ground as she walked. Thinking back on what Emira knew about her other friends, she doubted it.

If Ed wasn’t part of this conversation, Emira might’ve pursued this topic further. She was quite curious about this new relationship with Luz and with how red Mittens’ face was getting. Unfortunately now probably wasn’t the best time to push the issue, but she couldn’t resist one small tease. “Hey, knock it off Ed. Let Mittens have her secrets.” Emira settled with that.

“That’s right.” Mittens huffed, before realizing exactly what was said and almost squeaking. “No, wait, there’s no secret.” Her eyes were wide as she waved her hands in a dismissive motion, that blush still easy to spot on her face.

“Fine, have it your way.” Ed shrugged and adjusted his pack, agreeing to drop the topic. He quickly bounced back with a new one. “Did you see that spell the Owl Lady used?” He mimicked the arm motion the Owl Lady made when she put the slitherbeast to sleep. “That was so cool, I wonder if we could learn it.”

“I think a sleep spell is part of the healing coven.” Emira mused, thinking about the way the spell was cast with a smaller circle and then pushed into a larger one.

“Oh right.” Ed frowned at that. “Too bad, the potential of being able to put someone to sleep is limitless.”

He was right, putting someone to sleep made pranking or tricking them a lot easier. “We can ask the teacher if there is anything like it in illusions.” Though Emira and Ed were excellent at illusion magic, they didn’t know every spell that existed.

Emira lifted one hand to her chin as she thought about the different spells she knew, trying to figure out if one could be applied this way. The best she could come up with was using the magic to knock someone out by force.

“You’re plotting something again.” Mittens had fallen back to her side, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

It was Emira’s turn to wave her hands dismissively. “I’m not, I swear.” She couldn’t help but grin when Mitten’s eyebrows popped up in doubt. Emira leaned in slightly. “Not yet that is.” She laughed, drawing another eye roll and a hint of a smile from her sister.

“We’ll plan later.” Ed matched her grin, probably already working out how to use illusion magic to knock people out.

“I want no part of this.” Mittens picked up the pace, speeding ahead of her siblings.

“You’ll miss all the fun.” Emira called after her, chuckling again when Mittens looked back and shook her head no.

“I think I’ll manage without it.” Though she sounded serious, Mittens looked like she was enjoying the banter.

Ed and Emira carried on a conversation after that about different illusion spells that might be useful in knocking someone out. They couldn’t think of one that wouldn’t cause physical harm to the victim, unfortunately. Though she walked a meter ahead of them, Mittens was definitely still listening in.

Soon the trio was out of the snow and onto the main road back to town.

Despite almost dying, they had a successful trip.

Chapter 5

[notsowrites]

believe in something again

a moment between maria, jenna, and greg that’s referenced in chapter three of anchored home in an interstellar sea

(AO3 Link)

<3

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Maria stared at the soulmark on her wrist.

She knew what it meant, she'd seen Liz's enough growing up to recognize what it was. But there was something off about her own.

Liz's soulmark resembled a constellation, with points connecting them that acted as the stars in the sky. When they were younger, before she and Alex left Roswell and left her all alone, they'd sit on the roof of the Crashdown and talk for hours about the future and if all of them would end up with soulmarks one day.

Maria never let it show how much it had hurt that day when they'd been seventeen and Alex had revealed his own soulmark. There had been other things going on that she could focus her attention on, but in the back of her mind, hidden deep away, Maria felt a pang of jealousy that her two best friends had soulmarks, had soulmates, and she didn't.

There were always potentials, but none of them ever ended up the real thing. She'd felt stupid as a kid, believing that she and Alex would grow up and get married some day - even though no soulmark ever appeared. Because she did love him, more than anyone else, but apparently the universe had other plans.

Jenna had been a surprise and a revelation for her - because though she'd always thought of herself as straight, despite what she was beginning to understand had been a longtime crush on Rosa. And flirting with Jenna, talking with her, spending time with her - it was fun, and there had been something there that made Maria feel a pull towards her. She'd found herself wondering what it would be like to run her fingers across the skin of Jenna's arm, what it would feel like to kiss her lips and pull their bodies together.

She'd been a bundle of nerves the first time they'd spent time together, nervous about doing something wrong or acting the fool. And she hadn’t quite understood why, until after they’d spent the night at the drive-in, their knees bumping as they sat on the tailgate of Maria’s truck, when Maria had driven Jenna back to her house, and they’d awkwardly stood outside the door saying their goodnights. And there had been a rush of want that had flown through her, to lean forward and kiss Jenna Cameron, and so she’d given in, checking with her as she went, their eyes locked as Maria pressed their lips together.

She hadn’t noticed the appearance of the soulmark on her wrist until she’d gotten home and was getting ready for bed. But there it had been, dark lines standing out against the skin of her wrist, staring back at her, as if telling her that she’d been ridiculous all those years ago to think she’d never get a soulmate or a soulmark - she’d just been looking in the wrong place and at the wrong person.

But this soulmark of hers didn’t look complete. It was as if something was still missing, and Maria didn’t understand why. She’d found her soulmate, hadn’t she?

She sat at the table in Jenna’s kitchen, wrist held out in front of her, staring at it, fingertip tracing along the lines, wondering why it was so different from what she thought it should look like.

Greg was staying in Jenna’s spare bedroom, recovering from the gunshot wound to his abdomen, and yet his entire presence didn’t feel like an imposition. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt like he belonged here with them, and she didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was just that she knew him, that they’d grown up together. An existing familiarity.

“You feel it too,” Jenna said as she walked into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter.

Maria’s head shot up to look at her, dropping her hand and flipping her wrist around, like she needed to hide the mark, hide what she'd just been doing. She was still getting used to the changes the soulbond made, the openness at which you could have with your soulmate - the sharing of those thoughts of emotions, letting them flow openly between you, a secret language only soulmates shared.

“I don’t know what I feel,” she replied, because it was the truth. “He’s Alex’s brother, we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Jenna smiled, sliding into the seat next to her at the table, and taking her hand, the physical touch calming something inside her instantly. She watched as Jenna twisted their hands to expose the soulmarks on the inside of their wrists, a finger tracing along the incomplete lines on Maria's skin, the touch lingering, a single focal point for her to concentrate on.

"That's not an answer."

Maria ducked her head, because she didn't understand it, how Jenna was able to read her so easily. Did it come with being soulmates, the more innate ability to understand the other person? She thought about Michael and Alex, the revelation that Alex had spent the past decade with a tight hold over the bond, believing it was the right thing to do. Maria had found she couldn't even be angry at him, that he'd made that decision. Even now that she knew and understood what having that bond felt like, she'd listened to him talk about his fears and insecurities, his reasons for making the decision he did.

"If you're worried about me-"

Maria shakes her head, pushing up slightly from her chair to lean over and press their lips together. "No, it's not - it's something else. It's like he belongs here. With us."

As the words left her mouth, the floor creaked from off to the right, and both her and Jenna glanced over to see Greg standing in the hallway watching. Jenna jumped up, immediately going to help him, but he shrugged her off.

Maria realized he'd been staring at her and hadn't looked away yet.

"Remember when you and Alex made that pact that one day the two of you would get married?" Greg leaned against the counter, hands braced onto the edges of the marble to hold himself up. "The two of you were so inseparable, I think I was always a little jealous."

Maria smiled, thinking of those days as kids. Back before Alex came out, when the idea of them getting married one day still seemed possible. Marrying Alex one day seemed a foregone conclusion in her mind as a child, inevitable that one day she would become a member of the Manes family. Greg had never been involved in their group, he had his own friends, his own activities - what had there been to be jealous of?

"You were always so sure of yourself, even when we were kids," Greg continued, and Maria realized there was a slight blush to his cheeks. "But you only ever had eyes for Alex. And I've always been a little bit in love with you."

She feels like a fool suddenly - she had been so in love with Alex, had she overlooked Greg completely?

It's then that Maria realizes it's just the two of them, Jenna having disappeared somewhere else in the house.

In the weeks since the soulmark showed up, she's always been aware of Jenna's presence around her or near her - something she attributed to the soulbond. A kind of soulmate intuition, she assumed. So losing focus on Jenna now, when it was just her and Greg in the room, Maria immediately wondered if that was what she'd been referring to earlier, that feeling Jenna had asked her about.

There's something she needs an answer to now however.

Maria stands up and makes her way toward Greg, standing in front of him as he stares back, having kept his focus on her since appearing in the kitchen. They haven't touched, she realizes - perhaps somehow they never have, but there is something inside her begging for it now. A need pulsing through her, pressing up against the bond that she has with Jenna already.

You feel it too .

She surges forward, capturing Greg's lips with her own, remembering what it's like to kiss someone with stubble, feeling the barest of whiskers above his lips. Maria is careful to place a hand on his waist, but nowhere near where he’d been shot, not wanting to cause him pain of any sort. She feels a hand slide into her hair, fingertips pressing gently against her scalp, and she melts into the contact.

Pulling away, she feels Greg wrap a hand around her wrist, turning it so they can both look at it, watching as the lines fill in across her skin. It doesn't feel like anything, she doesn't feel the movement of her soulmark as it becomes whole, as the same constellation works its way across the skin of his wrist as well.

She watches as he leans over, gently pressing a kiss to the mark, her body suddenly a live wire of want and need and understanding. But there's apprehension, the need to stop every feeling surging through the bond, to discuss this, discuss them .

"You?" Maria asks, finding her voice finally.

Gently, she pushes against him, hands drifting up to hold his face, staring at him and needing him to listen. Maybe she'd just picked the wrong Manes when she was younger, mistaken her pull towards Alex - it didn't diminish anything about their friendship, every bit of love and trust between them. But maybe it'd been Greg she'd been pulled toward this entire time.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Years of bad dates and even worse relationships, never feeling like she's been able to truly connect with anyone. Even with Michael, no matter how much she'd enjoyed herself during the time they'd dated, it had always felt like deep down something had been missing. And now, seeing Michael and Alex together, seeing Liz and Max together, she had started to realize how much she'd been searching for something like that of her own.

Until Jenna. Until now.

"I thought you'd say no."

Maria smiles, unable to hold back, pushing forward again and kissing Greg, pulling their bodies closer together as she goes. She feels his hands dip down, circling her waist to pull her against him, and Maria adjusts her stance, moving one leg between Greg's, wondering if he's feeling the same as she is.

Greg answers by switching their positions, and Maria pushes herself up onto the counter, pushing her legs apart and pulling Greg between them, arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies flush together as their lips collide again.

With Jenna, they'd been slow and quiet, something tentative and new. They'd spent the night exploring each other's bodies, hands clasped and fingers dancing as their limbs tangled together. They'd learned how to bring each other to the brink, to reach that highest high, and fallen asleep wrapped up in each other afterwards.

Now, she watches as Greg slides her panties down her legs, and quickly leans forward, pushing his sweatpants and boxers down, releasing him from his confines and taking him in hand, shifting to try and line him up. His hand brushes against hers, and she lets him take over as he gently pushes forward, and she tightens her grip around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as he pushes into her. The feeling of being filled excites her, and Maria reaches down between them, fingers rubbing gently against herself.

For a moment they stay still, adjusting and just feeling each other, and Maria presses a quick kiss to Greg's lips, before urging him forward with her legs, her ankles hooked together around his back.

"Impatient," he laughs, pulling out slightly before thrusting forward. "Did Jenna have to deal with this?"

Maria laughs into the skin of his shoulder, shaking her head as Greg finds a pace, the feeling of him moving inside her, rubbing up against that spot that will send over the edge. The bond is aflame with emotions and desire, overwhelming her as she tries to hold on, her orgasm building and inching closer.

It's subtle as she feels Jenna enter into the mix, as if feeling out the emotions, before Maria feels a hand running up the length of her leg. Their mouths meet in a kiss as Greg continues his thrusts, and Maria is barely able to concentrate as Jenna climbs up on the counter, straddling her from behind, a hand reaching around, fingers sliding between her legs, taking over where Maria is touching herself.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, she rides out her climax clutching to Greg, Jenna pressed up tightly against her back, feeling as Greg finishes a moment later. None of them move for a moment, as Maria feels Greg slip out of her, stepping back and Jenna keeps them close - the physical contact exactly what she needs. She lets Jenna pull her hand back, fingers gently wrapped around the wrist with her soulmark, not seeing but feeling as Jenna presses her lips to it, sending a thrill down her spine and through the bond.

"And Greg, to answer your question, she was just as impatient our first time as well."

[suckmysupernatural]

Sunshine - Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1642

Pairing: Sam x OC Sunny

Series Summary: The Winchesters meet a cheerful hunter named Sunny, who quickly captures Sam’s attention. Little do any of them know what lies in store when Sunny gets invited to join the brothers. Who can say how Sam, Dean, and Sunny will be some training days, a handful of hunts, romantic dates, a kidnapping, and one vengeful demon later.

Chapter Summary: The Winchesters show Sunny the bunker. 

Warnings: language

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

Driving back to Lebanon went a lot faster than expected. Sam attributed it to the anticipation he felt at the thought of talking to Sunny again. Looking at her car in the rearview was nice, but not nearly good enough. Every once in awhile, he would catch Dean smirking at him and honestly didn’t blame him. Sam had a total crush on the woman. 

The two classic cars pulled into the bunker’s garage, one right next to the other. Sunny was already fascinated with the brother’s home base. The garage had about a dozen different cars, all in mint condition. 

She exited the car, pulling out her duffel bag from the back seat. Everything she owned fit inside of it, aside from the weapons that were expertly organized in the trunk. Sunny watched as the brothers grabbed their things and ushered her to the door that leads to the bunker’s interior. Sunny was surprised to see how spacious the place was and was excited to explore it. 

“Wow, it’s just the two of you here?” she asked, looking towards the men. It seemed like there could be room for over a dozen people. 

“Yeah, well, we like to take in strays, now and then. You’ll probably meet Cas at some point, so don’t be surprised if you find a man in a trench coat wandering around. He sometimes stays here as well,” Dean told her. 

“So is that me? One of your strays?” Sunny joked to the older brother.

“Nah. You’re our Yoda,” Dean smirked. The three of them made their way down the staircase and Dean split off from the two, giving his brother a wink before heading to his room. Sam bit back an insult to his brother, instead offering to carry Sunny’s duffel. 

“How ‘bout you pick out a room and then I can give you the rest of the tour?” Sam asked, to which Sunny responded with an enthusiastic nod. Sam motioned for her to follow, showing the way to his side of the bunker. Walking down the hallway, Sam stopped in front of a door.

“So, this one is mine right here,” Sam said, giving his bedroom door a small smack. “You can choose any empty room, they are all basically identical so whatever works for you.” 

“I’ll take this one,” Sunny said as she opened the door across the hall. She was met with a basic room, bare apart from the furniture. Sam couldn’t help but smile. He had been hoping that she would choose one close to his. The two walked into Sunny’s new room, Sam sitting on the bed as he watched the woman unpack.

It didn’t take her long as most of her belongings were clothes, but she had a few trinkets as well. Near the bottom of the bag were two photos, each in its own frame. She put them on the nightstand and couldn’t help but smile. She turned to Sam, pointing to one of the photos.

“That’s my sister and me. I was 6; she was 3. We went on a family vacation to Disneyland. It’s one of my happiest memories,” she motioned towards the other one, which showed a couple laughing as they held one another, “This one is from my parents’ wedding day.” 

“So, where are they now?” Sam asked.

“Gone. Have been for a long time now. It was a djinn. My whole family was at home, eating dinner one night when there was a knock at the door. My dad went to see who it was and when we didn’t hear anything for a few minutes, my mom followed. The djinn got to them both before walking into the house and getting my sister and me before we could even notice. It’s funny, my dream was just finishing dinner. 

A hunter who had caught wind of the djinn, ended up killing it right there in my living room. I was the only survivor. I was 22 and my whole family was dead. I had no extended family, no clue what I was going to do. So, I decided to start hunting. The one who saved me, Jason, he taught me the basics before I went off on my own. Last I heard, he had moved to Hawaii.” 

“Wow, I’m so sorry,” Sam empathized. He knew loss quite well by now. 

“At least I know that they got to live long, happy lives. Even if it was just in their heads,” she said. Her positivity was something Sam was glad to be around. Sure, he wasn’t entirely negative but the shit that he and Dean had gone through made them rough around the edges. Sunny, on the other hand, seemed to seep optimism from her pores. Sam found it refreshing.

Sunny continued to unpack her things, pulling out a few worn-down novels, a lavender candle, and toiletries. She liked to keep a candle with her. It was something to make motel rooms feel the slightest bit like home. 

Once the bag was empty, Sunny kicked it under the bed. Sam stood and started the tour. He showed her all the main places in the bunker: the bathroom, the kitchen, infirmary, dungeon, Dean-cave, and library. He also showed off the gun range and mat room where she would be trying to teach the brothers. Once he had shown her just about everything, they ended back up in the hallway that led to their rooms. 

“I am gonna go unpack my duffel, let you get settled. Dean and I will be in the library later; you’re more than welcome to join us.” Sam smiled at Sunny before leaving. Sunny simply nodded in response. She decided to take a shower, more than thrilled to be somewhere other than a motel. The water pressure in those places is horrendous. 

Walking into the bathroom, she locked the door behind her and scoped the layout. The shower was nicer than she was used to, stepping onto the cool tile and looking over the knobs. She quickly figured out which one was connected to the hot water and turned it up. Soon, the warm water washed over her, all the tension in her muscles quickly dissipating. Sunny took her time, enjoying a quality shower for the first time in what felt like forever. She didn’t want to use up all the hot water in case one of the brothers wanted a shower, so she sadly turned off the water and wrapped a fluffy towel around her. 

Her bare feet padded towards her room, finding it with relative ease. She decided to dress for comfort, pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants and a pink crop top. Using the towel, Sunny squeezed most of the water from her hair before heading out to meet the brothers in the library. 

Only making one wrong turn, it didn’t take long before she found the two brothers sitting at the center table. Sam and Dean turned at the sound of her entering the room, Sam trying his best not to show a reaction. He was once again baffled by her beauty. Even in sweatpants and wet hair, she was basically irresistible. 

“Hey, Sunny,” Dean greeted, motioning for her to sit at the table. She sat, giving the older brother her attention. “Whatcha want for dinner? I was thinking of getting take-out.” 

“I eat just about anything,” Sunny said, “I’m not picky.” 

“Mexican?” Dean offered. 

“Yeah, sure. A burrito sounds fantastic,” she agreed. Dean chuckled, taking Sam’s order before leaving to go grab dinner. 

Sunny couldn’t help but stand, fascinated by the number of books in the bunker’s library. Her hands skimmed the spines, her head tilted to read the titles. She was mesmerized by the amount of literature, her eyes sparkling as she cataloged the material. 

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of her, appreciating her wonder. He almost couldn’t bear it. She was just perfect. Standing, he walked over to where she stood. She looked up, smiling when she met his eyes.

“Yes, Sam?” Sunny batted her eyes. It was apparent he wanted to say something. 

“I know this might be a little… forward, but I like you, Sunshine,” Sam reached down, taking her hand in his, “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?” He was nervous; it had been years since he had asked a girl on a date. He felt like a teenage boy all over again, his heart racing as he looked at the beautiful girl. Her smile grew even bigger, and he could swear her eyes were sparkling. 

“I like you too, Sam,” she said, “I would love to go on a date with you.” Sam grinned, a slight blush creeping onto his face. He nodded slightly, trying to contain his giddiness. With his free hand, he brushed her cheek before going back to his seat. He didn’t want to rush anything. Not with her. Sunny was exceptional, and he wanted to make sure that she knew it. 

Sunny turned back to the shelves, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. She was excited to see where things went with Sam. They had been drawn to one another right away. It felt right to pursue something more than just friends.

The two stayed where they were, with Sam nursing a beer and Sunny looking at the titles of books until Dean returned with dinner. Immediately, the older brother could sense that something was different between the two. Glancing at Sam, he saw his younger brother give a small nod to confirm that something had indeed happened when he was gone. Dean was proud of Sam; it wasn’t every day that he was this bold around women. But even Dean knew that Sunny was different. 

That she was someone that had the capability to change Sam’s life.

Chapter 3 ->

[danetobelieve]

A Couple’s Home Is Their Castle || Rio and Winston

When: 24/08/2020 Who: @3starsquinn & @danetobelieve Where: Rio and Winston’s home. Summary: Winston and Rio keep working on the defenses that they’re slowly building up around their house.  Warnings: n/a

Winston looked at the large spotlights that they had just finished attaching to the roof of their home. Ricky was down in his workshop grafting away at a new set of fastenings for the next set of defenses that they were affixing to their house which left Rio and Winston the job of actually installing the stuff to the house. A job that was more difficult for normies. But when you could use magic and your boyfriend had a serious degree of supernatural strength then everything was honestly a little bit easier. As Rio held the large frame of the bank of UV spotlights in place, Winston finished fastening it to the roof, made sure that it was secure and then gave it a slight rattle to see if it was done. “You know, I don’t think i could move this even if it was going to fall off,” Winston admitted, “do you wanna test it?” The bank of spotlights was something that they had been working on for a while. The idea was that they were basically security lights. Except they would shine out UV light (they were technomagically enchanted with a variety of runes and high powered LED bulbs). In theory they would stop vampires from getting too close to their home. In theory. The truth was Winston wouldn’t know until they tried it out. Which they hoped they’d never have to do. But better safe then sorry, especially when Miriam might be involved. 

Orion liked watching Winston work. Considering all of the other thoughts that were constantly running through his head, this was a more than welcome distraction. And considering the whole love potion fiasco, Rio considered himself lucky that Winston was being as cool about it as they were. Even if it wasn’t Rio’s fault and Winston had insisted that the two forgot it ever happened. Rio’s body was still sore from the spawns, but he happily stood out and held the light into place as Winston worked on it. After it was completely fastened, Rio switched just group and began pulling at it, feeding only a small bit of his hunter strength into the motion. He didn’t want to accidentally rip it free, though he wasn’t sure he was necessarily in the best shape to do that anyways. Afterwards, Rio scratched at the wounds of his arms over his sleeves and winced at the pain. “This is incredible. It’s too bad we don’t know any vampires to test this with. I mean, not that I’d want to burn them or anything.” He studied the mechanism and glanced back and forth between it and Winston. God, they were so cool. “What can we do next? Please don’t make me go back into my room again. There’s only so many video games I can play.” 

Somehow the sweetest and kindest person who had ever existed had managed to get themselves hurt again. Winston had all but forgotten everything to do with the love potion, although it had been tough to accept, Winston had worked through it and they’d been able to put the whole thing behind them. That was the way it had to be. Rio had hardly been consenting and Winston hadn’t admitted it yet but they really cared deeply about Rio, maybe to the point of loving him. But this was their first relationship and they didn’t want to knee jerk anything until they were completely sure. “You really think?” Winston asked curiously, “Honestly, you remember when we had that month of perpetual night and there was a shit load of vampires out there just snapping at everyone’s heels all the time, well that was when me and Ricky decided that it was time to start taking the safety of this place a lot more seriously.” With their developments in technomancy, well automating everything was only easier. “Oh, I know we’ve installed everything up here but don’t get excited about being with it yet.” Winston couldn’t help but tease Rio, he looked so cute when he was teased. “I still need to hook this up to our AI in the house so that we can literally go like defenses on or whatever and the house will become a safe zone, or as safe a zone as you can have in White Crest.” 

“Of course I do! You’re like a tech genius. Anything you do is incredible.” Orion shrugged, as if this was the most natural thing to say in the world. Rio remembered back when they had first met. Rio had troubles giving anyone an abundance of compliments, afraid he was going to come across as weird or desperate. Now, Rio practically told anyone that he could about how great Winston was. It was a welcome change, one of many positive changes that Rio had begun noticing after moving in with Winston and Ricky. “Yeah I remember. It didn’t make doing things at the Scribrary easy. I mean, for people without night vision I mean. Well, I’m glad this place will be safe.” Luckily, Rio didn’t have much of an issue seeing at night. But it had certainly been creepy. He wished there were defenses against hunters they could do. “Oh. Great. So we’re staying on the roof then?” Rio crosses his arms and poured, “Guess it’s good I’m not scared of heights or anything.” He laughed sarcastically and readjusted his hold on the machine, holding onto it in case he slipped. “But that sounds super cool. So do your thing.” Rio couldn’t offer much in terms of technology and was here based solely on his muscle, by some weird sense of irony. But he supposed he could offer some suggestions. “You know, and I hate even suggesting this, but my family replaced all the doorknobs on the house with silver and pure iron.” He made a face at the idea of following something his family did, but depending on the threat, maybe it wasn’t the worst idea. “Not silver, obviously. We know too many werewolves. But maybe we can do something with the iron?”

“You’ve tasted my cooking right?” Winston replied with a chuckle, “Because not even your sweet sweet lips,” Winston winked in the most exaggerated way they possibly could to show that they were joking, “cannot convince me that my cooking is incredible.” The scribrary was going to be a perpetual work in progress for Winston, they weren’t sure if they would ever complete everything that they wanted to do with it, but the fact that they didn’t have to carry a flashlight with them at all times was refreshing enough. “We got all the lights fixed though,” Winston replied with a smirk, “so we’re definitely making progress.” Looking around, Winston shook their head. “Don’t worry, we won’t be up here for too much longer, we’ve just got to thread the wires down through the roof and then Ricky has said it’s cool if we set everything up for the connection in his room, he’s going to be in his workshop for a few more hours anyway so if we’re quick we shouldn’t even take up too much time or space.” Winston quickly and expertly began threading thick spools of wires through the hole in the roof. “Can you just like slowly give me slack on the wire until we’ve got it all through, and then we’ll go in through Ricky’s skylight because I’m way too lazy to climb all the way down and go in through the front door.” Heights bothered Winston too, they didn’t want to be up here any longer then they had to be. But it was easier to not seem bothered by stuff when Rio was around. He made it easier to be confident. “Uh, well we’ve got some fairly crude salt traps for ghosts, we could definitely include like iron and silver traps too, but I’d rather not have them in the doorknobs, it makes it difficult to bring anyone who’s fae or like you said a werewolf over without warning them not to touch the doors.”

Orion considered Winston’s statement. Sure, Winston’s cooking still probably beat Rio’s own. More due to the fact that Rio never actually tried to cook. The little that he knew he knew from cooking with Ricky. Who frequently took over jobs when Rio proved hopeless. “Not everyone can cook like Ricky.” Rio stayed neutrally, blushing at the comment about his lips and scratching nervously at his neck. Okay, so not all the butterflies were gone. But could Rio be blamed when Winston said stuff like that? “The Scribrary has come farther than I ever thought it would. So even if we never do anything else to it I’m going to count it as a win.” Of course, neither of them had any intentions of stopping their progress. The Scribe HQ was really important to Rio. Outside of being filled top to bottom with knowledge and a source of escape from Rio’s old life, the Scribe building attributed to how close Rio and Winston were now. If they hadn’t run into each other that night or started working on the place together, who knew if they would be as close as they were now. Rio would probably still be awkwardly crushing on them in secret. “You got it, boss.” Rio gave Winston a thumbs up and then moved over to hold onto the wire to help out. He loved the skylight idea, mostly so he didn’t have to stare at the ground and try to get down. “I completely agree. The last thing I’d want is for someone like Ariana to burn her hand try to come visit us. I want this place to be safe against threats. So I also want it to be safe for any of our friends that aren’t human.” It was strange, acknowledging that some people weren’t human. For as long as Rio could remember, he had considered everyone human. Undead, werewolf, Fae. But he remembered his conversation with Morgan and the one with Athena about Ariana. Not everyone wanted to be referred to as human. He was still getting used to that. 

“Honestly, for someone who only eats meat or fish, I find it almost a little bit disconcerting that he is so good at cooking things that he can’t eat without getting sick. It’s like some kind of unfair super power.” Winston was honestly still glad that they were living with both Rio and Ricky. The two of them made their life so much easier then they had previously imagined that it could be. Grinning gently at Rio, Winston nodded. “I know we’ve still got tonnes of work to do, but with every step we make and everything that we do to make things like a bit more accessible it all seems a bit easier you know.” Winston shrugged to themself and Rio before continuing. “I was actually thinking that we should back up both of the databases, cause I know we back up the Scribrary here and vice versa but it’s probably not a bad idea to back both of them up just in case there is a truly cataclysmic event or something that could damage both locations, which although it sounds unlikely when it comes to White Crest I guess that you can’t be sure.” Laughing at Rio once more, Winston finished threading the wires through the hole in the roof before turning to Rio and pulling open the skylight. “After you dude, and yeah, exactly. I would ideally like to be able to turn everything on or off so that depending on who comes here we can make sure that nothing we have in the house hurts them. Just because someone is fae or something doesn’t mean they’re definitely bad but I also think it’s a good idea to have different things in place that can work with both, I don’t know, it’s just an idea and obviously all the houses defenses are still a work in progress. I’ve not got the autoturret prototypes anywhere near working yet, they don’t aim for shit and the firing mechanism doesn’t work properly either but we’re starting to really make progress on everything else.” 

“Right? He has an unfair advantage.” Not to mention his human body was sculpted like some sort of Greek god. It had made talking to him very hard that first night the two had met. The infatuation didn’t last very long though, just until the two actually became close friends. It had been a common trait with most of Orion’s crushes. That star-eyed butterfly feeling mostly disappeared after getting to know them. Winston has been the exact opposite, that feeling only getting stronger and stronger the more time they spent together. “It’s a good idea. I was thinking it wouldn’t be bad to find someone else to keep hold of the information. Y’know, someone trustworthy obviously. If we start building this like we want to, we’re going to need to add in some more people eventually.” It was something Rio had thought about a lot recently. He had ideas of people he could ask, but he wanted to be really careful not to just pull in friends or people he liked. He needed to be smart about this. He wasn’t trying to create some fraternity or book club. He wanted to make a difference. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone. Just keep us safe.” Rio was slowly starting to realize that sometimes the two had to go hand in hand. It wasn’t a fun realization. Lots of existential crisis involved in that inner monologue. With the skylight open, Rio climbed down into it and then jumped, hitting the floor of Ricky’s room and rolling. It wasn’t graceful by any means, but Rio wasn’t injured. “I can’t believe we’re actually casually talking about turrets right now. With anyone else, that would scare me.”

“He’s also just a competent adult which isn’t something that I feel like I’ve ever been able to achieve,” Winston replied with a laugh. Winston raised an eyebrow and bit their lip. “Well there are options, someone like Nell or Bea or Luce could work but I don’t know if they’re impartial enough with their coven involvement, there’s also someone like Leah who’s already got her own library of information and I think that she would understand just the sort of discretion that this needed,” Winston honestly wasn’t sure if they were really the right person to be deciding who  should or shouldn’t be involved in all of this, they were still so new to everything that they didn’t think that they could be impartial. “I just worry that if I have to pick someone then the obvious temptation is going to be to just pick my friends and you know that isn’t exactly a good idea.” Biting their lip, Winston slipped into through the skylight after Rio, landing far less gracefully and not managing to roll at all. “You make that look so easy, but yeah I get you. I just know that there’s a bunch of people that have either threatened me or would threaten me with death if they knew the actual truth about me -- also known as a witch hunter -- and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a relative safe haven in which we could offer people in need a place to go should everything go terribly terribly wrong.” 

“Y’know? Valid. I wish I was half as competent as he was at adulting. I only got book smarts.” Orion laughed, though it hadn’t entirely been a joke. He often felt like the only thing he could actually contribute was an uncommon amount of storage he kept in his memory for historical facts. He was starting to learn that maybe he could bring more to the table. Just like many had told him, maybe this strength of his wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Leah? I know her name. Nell is supposed to introduce us.” A library? That was certainly interesting and something Rio would have to remember when they met. “I know what you mean. My first thought was Blanche. And I think she’d be great but I didn’t know if I only thought it because she was my best friend. Maybe we should make a pros and cons list!” It was one of his nerdier ideas, only made nerdier by the fact that it genuinely excited him. Winston followed after Rio, dropping onto the floor and wobbling against it. “You okay? I have uh- lots of practice falling from things. You didn’t hurt your legs did you?” He studied Winston’s legs for a minute before swiftly averting his eyes and trying to focus on what they were saying. “No. Yeah. Totally. I agree, safe haven is good.” Rio had heard about the witch hunter. He didn’t like the knowledge before, but now knowing about Winston and Nell and others he really didn’t like it. He crossed his arms and his sleeves rubbed against the wounds, a pain shooting through them. Rio was ready to ignore it before he realized that he didn’t have to wear it at all. “Hey uh- this is probably a dumb question, but…” Rio paused, not sure how to ask without sounding weird. Why did he feel so awkward about taking his hoodie off? Probably because he had never gone without it around anyone that wasn’t his family. “Do you mind if I take this thing off? It’s hurting my arms.” He had pulled his arm through the first sleeve but didn’t want to do anything without Winston’s approval. He had the short sleeved shirt under his hoodie, but his arms weren’t always easy to look at.

“Everyone has different abilities and different skills, unfortunately I think that Ricky got all of the practical and useful skills and the two of us got all the useless ones that are only good at Trivia nights.” Winston grinned. Spending anytime with Rio was always a pleasure but he was so similar to Winston in so many ways that sometimes it was night just to spend time with someone who had such similar views to them. “Leah is cool, she was one of Bea’s friends when they were younger and so I kind of know her through Nell and Bea, but she’s really cool and really nice and really really helpful. When I was struggling after Bea’s resurrection she was the one who really helped me work out how I could get rid of all that excess energy.” Chewing their lip, Winston nodded. “I think that Blanche would probably do great at it, but the truth is that she’s also my friend so I don’t know for sure if I can objectively say that, I guess my only concern is that she has lots of people constantly coming to her for help all the time when they probably shouldn’t and I don’t want to give her more tools to make things worse for herself and put more pressure on herself. I think that the scribrary is also a tool and not one that should be used lightly.” Dusting themselves off, Winston stretched a little as they got to their feet. “Nah, I’m okay, just not nearly as graceful as you.” Winston didn’t really realise what Rio had meant at first and frowned a little as they looked at them confused. It took them a minute to work out exactly what Rio was asking. “Oh, please of course, you don’t have to check with me if you don’t want to be wearing that sort of thing.” Winston quickly crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Orion’s lips. “I don’t care and it’s none of my business what you wear, you always look cute with or without the long sleeves and if you’re comfortable then so am I.” 

“At least together we’re always going to win first prize?” Orion questioned, shrugging and hoping to find the silver lining in it, but he was giggling the whole time. Clearly, Rio and Winston had found a way to put their talents to use. Even if Rio’s only real contribution was an impressive memory for weird historical facts. The Scribrary was the perfect place to hone that talent. Rio nodded along as Winston explained Leah’s connections to the Vural’s and Blanche’s connection to… well everything. Rio was certainly intrigued by Leah, the girl who Nell said could help him learn more about Phoenix’s. From the sounds of it, she had more knowledge than just that. As for Blanche, Rio didn’t want to overwhelm her. And he didn’t want to ruin his only chance to get things with the Scribes kicked off again. He was positive she would make a good addition, but he didn’t want to rush anything. Not yet. “Good points. We will think on it more. We don’t have to rush anything. Especially since right now we don’t even really know what we’re doing.” That was the truth, at least for Rio. He knew they were going to continue archiving the Scribe information, but he still needed to figure out exactly what he wanted to do with it. All he knew was that he wanted to help people. They needed to figure out the how. But for now- Did Winston just say that Rio was graceful. He started snickering to himself, “Wow. I didn’t think anyone would ever call me graceful. That’s really sad for you.” With Winston’s approval, and a bonus kiss, Rio pulled the rest of the hoodie over his head and tied it around his waist. The sudden exposure in front of someone still felt incredibly weird. Weirdly enough, Rio didn’t even feel that awkward in the short sleeves around Winston. Rio supposed it was a testament to how much he cared about and felt comfortable around them. “Thanks. Seriously uh- I’ve never really walked around with a hoodie on so… it’s weird. But not with you. It’s just- god it’s so much less hot without that thing on.” He sighed into a laugh and gave a quick thumbs up to Winston, his way of thanking them for offering their support to Rio, “Okay, let’s get back to work.”

“I certainly hope that we’d always win first prize.” Winston had only ever been able to rely on their intellect in life. The rest of them hadn’t been exceptional in anyway, but being smart and having magic were really starting to get them places. “Plus with the amount of time you’re in college and the amount of time that I’m working, and the amount of time that we both seem to spend getting caught up in supernatural messes, well it is all something that is a bit much too plan to actively restart the Scribe chapter straight away, we definitely need other people to help and we could probably do with more resources then the two of us have at our disposal.” In that moment Winston wished that they had more money. Sometimes it felt like money fixed everything. Especially when it came to starting a supernatural organisation dedicated to recording supernatural phenomena. Laughing with Rio, Winston shrugged. “Sometimes I guess you have to just accept that your shortcomings are your shortcomings and move on with your life, grace isn’t something that I’ve ever possessed in any real quantity.” Pleased that Rio didn’t feel the need to keep from taking off the hoodie, Winston returned to their work, carefully and neatly winding the wires through the rafters with magic before taking them in their hands and continuing the work when they were at a level that Winston could actually reach. “Rio, you don’t need to say thank you for not wearing a hoodie, if you feel comfortable enough doing it then you know you’re totally fine doing it right, I don’t care as long as you don’t care y’know. It’s like, the people that matter don’t mind and the people that mind don’t matter.” 

What Winston said made a lot of sense. The two would need more help, and they would need people that specialized in things that the two of them didn’t. Orion tapped his finger against his chin as he considered all of this. “I’ll start putting together a list. Try to figure out exactly what we are going to need and who may be able to help us, but-” Rio knew the thing that they were really lacking. Funding. “Well, I know we said we don’t want to pull in friends, but what we don’t have is money. Right now anyone that could offer to help us would be more volunteering their time like we are.” He shrugged it off, realizing that wasting time stressing over it now was useless when Rio was here to try to help Winston arm the house. “But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m going to start a list of what we need and then we will start thinking about it.” Rio settled in with Winston, what they were working on now wasn’t something that Rio could provide much help in, but he enjoyed watching them work regardless. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I get what you’re saying but all I’m hearing is ‘I’m Winston and I’m adorable and amazing and support my boyfriend no matter what’” He put on his best Winston impersonation but giggled the entire sentence through. Not that Winston would accept the thanks, because that was the amazing kind of person they were, but Rio couldn’t find a way to describe his gratitude that Winston didn’t act bothered by his appearance. It was only because of them that Rio felt comfortable right now. “So what are you doing right now? With the wiring?” 

“Definitely, I can do the same thing and maybe once we’ve actually got some more time to look into this we can compare our notes and see what the other was able to come up with.” Winston knew that money was going to be an issue for a little while and they weren’t sure how they were going to solve that specific issue, but for now it was an issue that wasn’t pressing or urgent and it was certainly one that Winston could live with. “We can work all of this out soon, ideally we would be able to find some sort of donor or someone who could fund this for us but this isn’t like a university grant system and they were already hard enough to get in the first place.” Winston quirked an eyebrow thoughtfully as they pressed on with their work. Letting out a slight chuckle, Winston shrugged at Rio and gave them a quick smile. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it, ignoring all the compliments which thanks for those by the way, but yeah, I will support you no matter what because what’s the point of going out with someone if you’re not going to be there for them all the way, all the time, no matter what.” They didn’t even need to ask Rio about whether they’d do the same for them because they knew without hesitation that they they would. Focussing on their work, Winston grinned. “So, we’ve got power cables because this is going to take up a lot of power,” Winston indicated a bunch of the cables, “then we’ve got these, I’ve installed solar panels on the back of the lights and those feed down into a generator and battery set up that I’ve got in the basement of the house so that our power bill isn’t monstrous when or if we ever have to use these things, plus we should all invest in renewable resources anyway if we can…” Winston pulled a final wire out of the bunch and wiggled it for Rio to see, “this is an ethernet cable, it connects everything up there to the internet and to our computer and AI system so that everything works on voice command, at least that’s the theory.” Making magical tech work was an entirely different story.

“Deal!” Orion agreed, happy that he had Winston here to work through this with. Everything seemed easier with Winston’s help and support. “It’s sort of crazy to say, but honestly I’m not even stressed about it. And I’m usually stressed about… well, everything.” That wasn’t even an exaggeration, “I think I owe that to you. I mean, I also owe it to Ricky and Blanche and Ariana and everyone else. But with the Scribes stuff, you keep me grounded.” As Winston explained what they were doing, Rio peaked from behind Winston and rested his chin on their shoulder. His hands were flat against the ground, supporting him on either side. He pressed a quick kiss against Winston’s cheek from behind and turned his attention back to wires that Winston was fiddling with. “Have I mentioned that I love watching you work?” Rio was trying to get more comfortable with banter like this. Being able to openly compliment and flirt with Winston because the two were dating. It was still an odd feeling. “But in all seriousness, I love the idea of it being voice command. As long as I can’t accidentally voice command it to activate the turrets or something. But this is like the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You know that we’ll get there in the end, just like with the scribrary and the house defenses, I think these things naturally take time.” Winston pursed their lips thoughtfully before bobbing their head in agreement with Rio. “Maybe it’s just a sign that you’re getting more and more mature then you already were and you’re getting better and better at handling all the stuff that the world throws at you, sure we’ve helped, but you were the one who has done all of the hard work. We’ll all obviously keep helping you, but you’re the one who’s doing the lifting you know, you can’t forget that. You shouldn’t either.” Winston gave them a reassuring smile. “But you know, you really keep me grounded too.” Running a hand over Rio’s cheek affectionately, Winston returned to their work as Rio watched, explaining everything that they did as they worked. “I’ve noticed that you love watching me work, I always just assumed that everyone thought it was boring, but I guess you not being bored by me is why we make such a good couple.” Winston returned the kiss before laughing. “I’ll make sure that the voice command to set off the turrets requires double verification or something so that you don’t have to worry about that, but considering that on some scale the house is going to be powered by a magic spell that I’ll be weaving as it goes, you’ve kind of got to bear in mind that once this all goes off it’ll feed off of my energy a bit, I know you won’t fuck around with it, but yeah, don’t fuck around with it … lol.” Winston was right back to being awkward. Great.

“Bleh. Ew. My one greatest weakness.” Orion feigned coughing and grabbed at his heart for dramatic effect. The joke was meant mostly to distract from the compliments and avoid having to agree with Winston that Rio had anything to do with his own growth and development since moving in with them. He’d rather give all the credit to his friends and the others that had helped him stand up to his family and leave. “But that’s good. I want you to be able to feel as comfortable as I’m able to feel around you.” Rio had that thought about it a lot recently, especially after the love potion. Once it began wearing off, it was so easy for Rio to say that he never loved Blanche. Because that wasn’t what love felt like. Rio was pretty sure he knew what love felt like now. It all seemed so obvious. “I don’t know how people couldn’t find this stuff fascinating. Technology is so rapidly evolving so watching someone work with it and learning how to wire things and-” Rio stopped himself, realizing that it actually did sound pretty boring just talking about it, “Y’know what? Now that I’m thinking about it I think it’s just you. I just like watching you specifically work.” Rio nodded and crossed his heart as a promise, but found himself smiling by how Winston’s voice trailed off awkwardly. Since the two had spent so much time together, the two didn’t sound nearly as awkward as they had when they first became friends or first started getting feels for each other. “Ooh. I can’t believe I’m the one not super awkward right now. It’s really cute.” Rio pokes at Winston’s cheek playfully, “No worries about me accidentally using the AI for evil. I don’t even like asking Siri to do too much for me.” 

Winston knew that Rio was not very good at giving themselves compliments and they also knew that they were worse at taking them, so they would just continue giving them compliments until it was so normalised for them that they had no other choice but to accept them. That was the plan. “Of course, I do, like, you wouldn’t believe how comfortable I feel around you, you … I guess I just trust you without any hesitation.” Raising an eyebrow, Winston secured cable ties and plugged things in, making sure that everything was neat and tidy as it did run up through Ricky’s roof. “I’m glad that you admitted that you’ve just got a bit of a thing for watching me work because honestly sometimes when I do the stuff you love to watch even I am bored, there are definitely things that you’ve obviously just got to get done you know, but I appreciate you keeping me company, it makes everything a bit better and less boring then before.” Laughing gently, Winston shrugged. “I can believe that i’m the super awkward one, I know you think I’m not as awkward as you, but social situations don’t always come easy to me, people are less easy then computers.” Probably because they didn’t just think in ones and zeroes. “I don’t worry about you accidentally using the AI for evil, I worry that someone will upset Ricky and he’ll set the autoturrets on them for not being polite or something.” Winston joked, they were pretty sure Ricky wouldn’t do that … right? 

Knowing how comfortable Winston was with Orion was probably the greatest compliment that Rio could receive, and certainly one that he was willing to accept. The trust between the two of them was something Rio had always wished he could have with someone but figured he never would. “Same to you. It’s good to have someone that I know I can come to with anything. And i’m glad you know that you can do the same with me.” Sure, not everything could be the most exciting thing on Earth. But one of the greatest things about the mutual comfort Rio held with Winston was that the two had the ability to work around each other and be completely comfortable and entertained. The two could probably just lie on the floor across from one another and Rio would be content. So maybe all of the actual work itself wasn’t the most riveting, but Rio loved watching the way Winston’s hands fiddled with the project. Or the way their nose scrunched as they processed something in their head and the switch in facial expression once they finally worked it out. Watching Winston’s break work through their passion was sort of incredible. “I’m here to hang out whenever you want company. And I can also dip whenever you need time to focus.” It wouldn’t hurt Rio’s feelings. “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, we can’t all be like Ricky. Or Nell. Or any of the other social butterflies. But I think you have a certain charm with people. Even if you don’t think you do.” A lot of people in town seemed to know them and like them, so Winston must have been doing something right. Rio chuckled at the thought of Ricky messing with the turrets, mostly because he knew that Winston was joking and probably wasn’t serious. At least mostly. “Yeah well, let’s just keep an ear out for that to be sure. Otherwise, I think you’ve got a really good start. I feel safer already.”

[another-mexico-oc]

The most used Mexico´ cliches in fanfiction and comics (And surely this can apply to any other OC)

Traducción en Español: AQUÍ

DISCLAIMER:

This post DOES NOT intend to throw shit and attack specific authors or their work, so out of respect we will not mention names. If you have read my other posts you will know that this only has the purpose of entertaining and to give a personal opinion.

Also, this does not intend to be a manual or guide on how to write a good comic or fanfic. It is only a compilation of repetitive elements found throughout these works.

Now, let's continue ...

Hi! How are you doing? I hope you are safe at home, and in case you have to go outside take your precautions.  

I have been in Hetalia's fandom for more than a year, and the Countryhumans' less than a year, and both my cousin and I have seen and read enough material from Mexico's OCs, enough to compile in a list the most popular cliches when reading a fanfic or comic which involves this character. As I said at the beginning, this is not a guide of what to do and what not, but we invite creators to find new ways to tell the same stories (or even new ones) differently and to not fall into the predictable.

( Perhaps it is because in my university career one of my teachers was very demanding with coherent scripts and stories, and that she tended to review them 10 times before giving the approval, that I became very demanding with the creation of stories and characters. But that's my personal issue! )

Sarcastically, this should be called "The clichés that cannot be miss for your Mexico´ story" :

1. The Mexico´OC was created ONLY to be the love interest of another character (the author's favorite):

In the same way, the author´ comics and fanfics will be of the romantic genre, and it will involve his favorite ship (or his various ships if he/she is a multi-shipper). Making a brief conclusion, there are few works in which Mexico stands out as a character, without having the love interest, or the famous harem, as the main plot.

And if you were curious, here is a chart that shows the most used ships in the Hetalia´ case, although in 2020 it may have slight changes:

(Denmark and Norway?! I have never found any fic about them being paired with Mexico)

2. María Sue and Gary Estuardo:

More cliché this could not be. Even when I´m mexican myself, I realize that the representation of my country has received the Mary Sue treatment by the fandom, both in Hetalia and in Countryhumas, and mostly by the latino and mexican community. I already talked about this HERE, but I'll summarize it:

Regardless of whether Mexico is a man or a woman:

- They will be the center of the universe, all the characters will kiss the ground they step on, they will be the most cute person in the world, without flaws, and their greatest virtue will be his or her ethereal beauty that will make everyone to fall in love with them, with just an eye blink.

- It´s never their fault and they will never face the consequences of their actions, e.g. causing WW3. What's even more, he or she is just a poor victim of the evil countries that want to take advantage of his/her territory.

- Having got laid or dating half of the world will not cause them serious consequences or a negative reputation.

- Personality? Oh my, that´s very complicated to write, instead I will narrate how my female Mexico arrived at the restaurant with a dress that highlighted her feminine attributes and how her long and abundant hair made more than one person to sigh; Or how my male Mexico wore tight pants that showed his perfect toned legs, and that when he smiled he made blush every country.

If it was a parody, I'd accept Mexico to be a Mary Sue or a Gary Stu. But usually the authors want you to take the story and the character seriously. So... nope.

3. Plots taken from soap operas, or telenovelas:

Believe it or not, there are authors who have admitted that their Mexico´ fanfics are based on mexican telenovelas. And the worst thing is that telenovelas have the most cliche stories in the world! Think about it, you have a good and humble, but kind of dumb person, who in this case is going to be Mexico, who falls in love with a handsome and rich person, who will obviously be a first world country, but there is someone who wants to finish their romance. You also have forced marriages, fights, misunderstandings, slaps, super dramatic scenes, passionate scenes, cheesy titles...

Mix all this elements together, and you will get:

For comedy purpose, we will be using my OC)

4. The fanfic or comic always, ALWAYS, has to start with a world meeting:

I propose a challenge for you and your friends. Gather together and search for Mexico fanfics, no matter the fandom where you all came from. Take a shot, or put a coin in a jar, for every time the first chapter begins at a meeting.

And almost always it is here where the author builds the romantic story, examples:

“It was a normal day in the boardroom, everyone was arguing while Germany (United Nations if it is a Countryhumans fic) tried in vain to put order and discipline. Only a nation was waiting for a certain person with brown skin and delicate features, to enter through that great door… ”

“Suddenly, a brown skin girl with black and curly hair (Seriously guys, where did you got the idea your average mexican girl has natural curly hair?!) entered the room, and the entire room went silent. Everyone who was there had something to do with that young lady, and seeing her there, turned into a full woman, left them stunned. She was gorgeous.”

Another cliché, but this one can be in any story, is: "Realizing that it was getting late, he got up, took off his pajamas, groomed, combed his hair, and put on his yellow shirt with his ...". There are several ways to start the story without the famous world meeting and the character's morning routine.

5. The harem and love triangles (or any other geometric shape):

This cliché could not be missing either. There are a lot of Mexico x TheWorld´ fanfics. As I said before, I am not against the shipping and the harem of Mexico, each one is free to ship whatever they like, as long as there is respect between the community.

But even when an author wants to focus on a single couple, let's take for example Canada x Mexico, he necesarily has to include USAMex and RusMex as secondary couples, and at some point it gets exhausting and reforces the Mary Sue treatment. It seems that for many authors, Mexico's international relations automatically translate into a “romantic relationship”, and not into a friends or business partners one.

And also, the construction of the relationship it feels sometimes very empty. The author doesn't give time to show how they become a couple or how they found the chemistry in the other. In the third chapter they are already making out!

6. The toxicity:

Oh yeah.

I don't blame this clichá, my cousin and I concluded that healthy relationships are rare in Hetalia and Countryhumans. Practically all countries have one or two flaws that at first sight makes them look toxic. And in Mexico's fanfics and comics, particularly those involving USAMex, the character gets involved in a possessive and codependent relationship.

If Mexico is not a dominant male or a femme fatale, it will be a submissive character who will allow all kinds of abuse. Or in each chapter he or she will doubt about his/her relationship, and will make their partner jealous.

To write a healthy relationship, you must work on the characters' strengths and make them both face their flaws, but instead, the authors take these flaws and make them the basis of the relationship.

7. The party´ chapter in which things get ... heavily crazy:

Okay, so we have our first chapter at the world meeting, where we establish the main couple. Now what we need is the stage for the lovebirds to confess their love ... while being drunk. In many works we will find the countries gathered at a party (usually a Latino party), and the author will narrate all the crazy events that occur, including how Mexico and his sweetheart, will confess their feelings after having taken a few bottles, and sometimes this gets to ...

8. The chapter (or chapters) + 18

This is almost a requirement for many fanfic´ writers, and is always written in the same way. The author will narrate you in detail from the moment they begin to undress until the climax moment.

9. Spain will never stop calling Mexico "New Spain", despite the fact that more than 200 years have passed since the country's independence and its recognition:

And in the case of Hetalia, Mexico must have the same last name as Spain: Hernández Carriedo. Yes, in the same way that United States last name is not Jones, but Kirkland, like its ex-colonizer England; or that Belarus last name is Braginski as his brother Russia, and not Arlovskaya.

Also, although Spain continues to call Mexico "New Spain", he will never call Argentina "Rio de la Plata" or Colombia "New Granada". Similarly, England and France will never call America and Canada "13 Colonies" and "New France" respectively. It seems to be something exclusive for Spain and Mexico.

10. Repetitive references and jokes, or lack of knowledge about the country.

Paco the chihuahua dog, Mexico and Sudamericans fighting over the avocado´s name, Mexico having flashbacks of his/her past with the Aztec Empire and with the USA when they were colonies, Mexico complaining about his/her rulers and corruption within the country, Mexico crying over Texas, Mexico demonstrating his/her beautiful culture to other countries …

Not to mention when someone makes an Mexico OC and his knowledge of the country is very basic: tacos, sombreros, Day of the Dead, always hot climate, the wall issue with America, Aztec and Maya as the only ancestors of Mexico, Texas, burritos... Sorry if I sound rude but, those people need to read and investigate more, and watch less movies where Mexico has that yellow filter.

11. Bad translations

Okay, this is something exclusive of the spanish speaking fandom, but I´ll tell you what´s their issue.

Some author had the brilliant idea to make the dialogues of the countries in their respective languages, followed by placing the Spanish translation in parentheses, and from there many followed suit. The problem is when you notice that they don´t speak or understand the language, and instead they use the Google translator, obtaining results like this:

There have been several occasions when I am reading America and England´ dialogues, and it makes me want to write in the comment section: “DON´T USE THE GOOGLE TRANSLATOR! ” I wouldn´t know what to say from the rest of the countries, since my French is very basic,and I have hardly learned one phrase from the others languages.

My advise for these authors is to find a person who is fluent in the language and who can help them with the dialogues. Or even better, try to avoid this cliché, because at the end of the day people will only read the translation, and it is already implied that each country speaks in its respective language. Also doing this is very pretentious.

The less you can do is to add in the dialogues well know words, like adiós, hola, bonjour, ciao...

12. Changing the canon personalities. Or worse: turn a loved character into a villain.

I already said this HERE too. Basically, for the author to make his Mexico an empathic character and to make other countries to fall in love with him or her, they must conveniently change their canon personalities. This applies more in Hetalia than in Countryhumans, since this last one belongs to the community and nobody can establish what is canon and what is not. On the other hand, in Hetalia the characters already have their own personalities, and neither plays the role of villain. And there is a big difference between being an antagonist or a villain, but I´ll let you to investigate it yourself.  

This cliché is closely related to the Mary Sue treatment, because if I want readers to empathize with Mexico, I must turn another character into an evil person who is going to put him through hardships. And normally this character is the United States or America, whatever you call him.

If I want Russia or Germany to fall in love with Mexico, I must rewrite their characters and throw out the unstable part of Russia, and Germany's little experience regarding romantic relationships, just to make them the most romantic and sentimental people in the world.

✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥

There you have it! I think I already roasted 80% of Mexico fanfiction and fanart, but is not like they are going to dissapear with this post. On the good side, for every time I cringed reading some of these works, I have saved a good amount money, you must try it. I should try an aside blog where I criticize bad fanfiction... But at the moment, that´s all for today! See ya!

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - OCTO

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: (will bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

THE STAR - hope, faith, rejuvenation

It had been a few weeks since they had met Johnny and joined his circus. To them, it felt odd and almost silly to be considered part of the circus... It never changed the fact, though. They hadn’t really met anyone there yet, at least not anyone to be considered more than a acquaintance maybe. Although, they did met a boy named Jisung, who was one of minor acrobatics, around Cosimia’s age.

They never saw him much, considering he worked in the big tent while they had a smaller tent of their own in the carnival part. They still lived with Ten and Sicheng, so immediately after they were done working they would go back to the trailer for some peace for themselves. It made it so they never really had time to hang out with the other kids their age or just the others there.

They were given a day off when they stopped in Texas, near the coast. Donghyuck was eager about the small break as he was exhausted from having to pick up and go every other day. It was all too much work for him on top of the long, hot days they had to go through. Cosimia remained on the other side of spectrum, excited about traveling and the work she was given. He guessed seeing the sparkle in her eyes whenever she looked out the window of the trailer as it moved down the road kept him going through it all.

They sat on the floor of the living room in the trailer. Sicheng and Ten were eating outside along with everyone else since meals were covered by Johnny at one of the tents. The green of money filed in neat piles in between the two as Cosimia counted the last of it. He stared at it, zoning out until the girl across from him picked it all up and put them together.

“We have around two thousand dollars,” She said, counting the bills again. “But I doubt we’ll spend it all today...”

“How are we even going to spend it?” Donghyuck asked. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and we don’t have phones to shop on.”

“Come on.” She rolled her eyes while getting up from the floor while she took all the money with her as well.

He didn’t really have a say in the matter and was quick to follow after her since half the money was his. She was fast, didn’t let him catch up for a second either as she walked all the way to the tent that had smoke coming out of it. The sound of people talking and coals crackling got louder.

He realized he had stopped for a moment right outside of the dirty white and red striped tent. He saw Cosimia round the corner, in enough time, to which he ran after her, almost loosing her in the crowd of their co-workers. She was walking toward the table Sicheng and Ten sat at. He stood back once he saw the dark haired male stand up and leave, not even bothering to look up from the ground. He still was not on very good terms with Ten, but then again, no one really ever was other than maybe Sicheng.

The other was left with a bunch of other people he seemed to be friends with. The girl continued to walk over to him, unaware she was even there until her hand rested on her shoulder and she bent down.

“Can we borrow the truck?” She whispered in his ear.

She had straighten her posture, him turning to looking up at her while putting his fork down. He moved around in his seat to go digging through his pocket. The familiar sound of keys jiggling rang before he gave them to her.

“Don’t crash it and never tell Ten I let you use our truck.” He demanded.

“Thank you!” She chimed before she walked away.

She had spotted Donghyuck when she turned around. He only looked at her with a questioning expression as he hadn’t seen the keys or anything. She grinned once she walked up to him and place the keys on his chest that then fell into his hands. He was shocked by it and stared at the set in his hands. She continued to walk, presumably toward Sicheng’s truck.

“Are you coming or what?” She chuckled as she turned around and walk backwards.

A slight smile came to his lips at her the sight of her chuckle. He run to catch up with her once again that day. They approached the rusty, blue, beat up truck together and got in. He, of course, drove but it took some time considering it was a stick shift and its age but it still started up.

They had smiled at each other once the engine started before he took off, rather quickly which left a cloud of dust behind them in the dirt.

Throughout the drive he noticed him occasionally looking over at her, just to check in. She remain quiet as she looked out the window, watching as nothing went by. For some reason, he found a little joy within just that. He wished the radio wasn’t busted because maybe then it would’ve made things more fun. The drive wasn’t long, the stores began to appear the further they drive down the road and they came to stop in front of a retro looking thrift shop.

She seemed excited as she jumped out of the truck, leaving Donghyuck to run after her get again. When they got inside, he was saw the clothing racks were full of color, parts of the store were overcrowded with furniture giving it an oddly comfortable feel. There was a section he was drawn to, it was narrow but full of old board games, movies and recorders.

He could see Cosimia dashing around the store, taking things off the racks, impulsively, and carrying them. He could see her fine from the the corner of his as he mostly focused on the records around him. It’s not like he was going to buy any of them as much as he wished, he had no record player but man, did Ten’s music annoy him so much at this point... He sighed to himself as his fingers lingered on the old things.

He had just then noticed his friend was no where in sight. He started to feel panic arise in his chest, not being able to see her anywhere. He went looking everywhere like a lost puppy until he stumbled across a section of the store that had curtains hung up to make a sort of dressing room. It had a three way mirror in the corner that seem to sit in the sun just right. He realized the mountain of cloths that laid on the velvet banquette settee center. They were men’s clothes, in his size and everything...

He was startled when the bright yellow curtains opened suddenly to reveal the girl he’d been looking for. She didn’t pay a mind to him as she walked over to the three way mirror to stand in the middle. She wore a long, royal purple skirt with a gold and yellow pattern of a planchette from a ouija. She smoothed it out while trying to fix the way her white t-shirt tucked into it. To be honest, it seemed like her and it seemed she thought so too by the way she smiled herself in the mirror and twirled, playfully. It made him smile to watch her like that, he’d never seen her act that way. The way the sun lit up the fabric as she twirled was quite beautiful as well, in his thought process. With the skirt glowing around her, he saw she wore black boots, a little beat up but it worked for her. He caught himself staring too much, probably looking like an idiot from how afar he admired her from.

Bags filled up the small backseat of the truck by the time they were done in the thrift store. The vechile was welcomely warm and stuffy when the both of them had finally got in.

“Is there anything else we should get before we get back or are we good?” He sighed as his hands rested on the stirring wheel.

She looked at her hair. The cherry red that was once there was now gone and replaced with a strawberry blonde color. One of which he knew she wasn’t too fond of, on herself anyway.

“We should go get hair dye,” She answered. “You look like you could need some too.”

She ruffled his hair a bit as she spoke. She didn’t seem to notice how shallow her breath got at the smallest of touching she’d done as she buckled her seatbelt. It took him a second to come down and do the same before he drove to the nearest drug store they could find.

It didn’t take long for her to pick a box for herself as they stood in the aisle next to each other. His hair was fading to a chalky, pastel orange. It reminded him of pixie stick dust but fried and crunchy. How he came to end up with orange hair? His friend, Yangyang, decided to bleach and dye his hair an obnoxious color as a prank when he blackout drunk freshman year. It was surprisingly how the color held for so long, his roots barely showing.

“What about you?” Cosimia asked. “What color do you want?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “Don’t really care that much either. The whole dyed hair was a prank and I never got around to dying it black again after it happened...”

“While I do think black would look good on you, I think lighter colors suit you better.” She sighed.

She remained silent as she looked at him for a minute while she clearly contemplated. She reached out and came to hold his chin, moving it around as she pleased to get a different angle. His breath easily hitched in his throat at her gentle action. She had never been one for physical attributes and to know she was doing the littlest things meant so much to him. She was getting more comfortable with him and he loved that fact. She let him go as gently as she had held him. She hummed a bit as she bent down to the colored dyes once again. She grabbed a box of silver hair dye with ease before she handed it to him.

“It will compliment your skin tone,” She have a slight smile. “Make it look more like gold than it already does.”

She turned a way from him with a smile, walking down the aisle, not even daring to look back at him which he was somewhat thankful about. He stood there, in the same place, too lost in himself as he could feel the skipped beats of his heart. He clutched the box of dye in his hand as he could feel the evident, hot blush come to his cheeks before it heated up his whole body. It was the littlest of things.

He didn’t understand it, the feelings that had never been felt before. Didn’t understand what intrigued him about her so much that he’d fake his death just go with her, didn’t understand the attraction to her like magnets or why he liked and hated the feeling as well.

The drive back remained a blur to him. He was too focused on her gestures throughout the day which meant absolutely nothing, to her at least. It was that odd blur where one remembers only how the felt and can piece small things together, but nothing else. He remembers the warm feeling he felt throughout his body, much like a fever as his grip on the steering wheel was hard enough to turn his hands white, but that was it.

When they had gotten back, the grounds were bare, few people were out running around in the dusty area. They went back to the trailer, even called out for Ten and Sicheng as they came back in. The two didn’t seem to be there when they came in which left them wondering where they could’ve gone since they had taken their truck. It didn’t last long though.

Cosimia threw the bags on the couch and grabbed the box of hair dye. She quickly grabbed Donghyuck’s hand before she ran to the bathroom. She even shut the door behind them, not taking into consideration how small it was. There wasn’t enough room for two people, leaving him leaned up against the wall. It was happening again, the hot feeling through his body he hated and loved.

“There’s... not a lot of room in here...” He practically gulped.

“Well, I’m gonna help you and you’re gonna help me,” She smiled with a glint in her eye. “We’ll make it work.”

He banged his head on the wall, on accident of course, after she had gotten closer to him in that moment. How close their faces were left him nervous. She giggled at him as he just held back a groan.

“Now, I definitely have to help you...” She chuckled.

He went first. She stripped his hair of the remaining pastel orange and washed it out. She was gentle, especially around where he has injured him. It felt nice to have someone run their hand through his hair, even if it was wet and his neck was straining. The moment felt nice as well in an unexplainable way.

As he wait for his hair to dry to apply the silver, he help Cosimia dye her own hair. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing but it gave for a few good laughs as the sink, floor and even their skin was stained a red-ish purple. Then it was his turn to have his put in which thankfully didn’t come out as messy since the girl knew what she was doing. The stains left by him where already going to anger Ten a lot, which enough.

He wrapped a towel around his head as she turned to wash her hands, the both of them smiling to each other without the knowledge. Before she could turn on the faucet, the very clear sound of the trailer opening was heard. They both looked at each with panic in their eyes. The girl quickly reached over the locked the door, leaving silver to stain the gold door knob. Ten was most definitely going to kill them for ruining the bathroom and probably the white towels the used impulsively.

The smell of chemicals stunk up the small space, lightly suffocating them. There was no doubt the smell hadn’t lingered out from the crack under the door and occupied the hall. A shadow appeared at the bottom of the doorway which made them jump a bit. A polite knock on the door.

“Haechan? Cosimia?” Johnny called from outside.

They both relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. Cosimia got of the sink to unlock the door and swing it open which startled the man.

“Have a makeover?” The dark haired man chuckled.

“You scared the shit out of us, we thought you were Sicheng and Ten.” She snapped.

“Hm, probably shouldn’t snap at me like that. I am your boss and I came with something you ought to be thankful for.” He said while remaining calm but nevertheless, delivering what he said with a certain tone that was underlined vindictive. “I was going to say I finally found you two your own trailer. A nice one too, definitely bigger than this one. Though, if you’re going to act like that, maybe I should just feed you to Ten.”

“Thank you, Johnny. We’re very thankful but maybe so if you had said it was you when you entered. You also could’ve been an axe murderer for all we knew.”

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. He practically had a foot on her and he was also more powerful than her in the terms of business. She didn’t stand down for a second as she glared at the elder waiting for him to utter anything in reason.

“Guess you’re not wrong,” He huffed. “The keys are on the counter and you can tell which on it is, it’s the nice one as I said. Probably best you get out of here before Ten shows up too.”

He walked away, leaving Cosimia to shut the door that creaked with the movement. She leaned her back against the door as she looked at the boy while taking a breath. In that moment, Donghyuck realized she was strong. He should’ve been able to noticed that sooner. He liked that, something about the trait made his heart flutter in a, yet again, unexplainable way.

“We should probably wash out the dye and get going.” She said, still leaned up against the door.

“Yeah,” He nodded, still sat on the toilet as he was knock out of his thoughts.

They rushed to wash the leftover coloring out of their hair. The water coming out purple and gray. The towels on the floor were scattered. His towel wasn’t that bad but hers, it resembled red wine, especially after the quick dry job that left it with even more stands. Her hair came out looking like a night purple which brung out there paleness in her skin. Oddly enough, the first person it reminded him of was Raven from the Teen Titans. He thought the character fit her rather well.

They gather the towels and cleaned up the floor and sink as best they could before putting them in the small laundry hamper in the closet in the hall. After that, they turned on the fan in the bathroom to get rid of the obnoxious smell that filled the place. Cosimia grabbed the keys off the counter before she took some of the bags off the couch. Donghyuck close behind her, grabbed the rest of their belongings as she hurried out the door.

It really was easy to find their trailer. It towered a little over the rest, though around the same size in length. It also looked quite a bit nicer than the others around them, a lot newer too. They didn’t understand why Johnny would’ve gotten them one so nice. They were kids and they did think they were getting a cheap one by what he said to them weeks ago. Still, they definitely weren’t complaining, just curious.

They settled in quickly, not that there was much to settle into. There wasn’t any furniture, food in the pantry or fridge with left it up for them to fill it up with what they wanted. There was microwave and coffee maker, though. There was a dusty sheet that covered the bed in back. The two pillows were fine but there was no blanket.

He walked out from the back to see Cosimia sitting on the counter, her back facing him. The sunlight barely hit her from where it slipped in through the blinds. It was the first time he’d seen her purple hair turn into a passionate red due to the light. It reminds of sparks and fire. He didn’t even think about how long he’d been staring from afar.

“What’s up?” She asked, turned around now after she realized the boy behind her who stared in complete silence.

“I’m just kinda tired...” He mumbled. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t completely a lie...

“Go take a nap then,” She chuckled. “We’ve got the rest of the day off and nothing to do with it.”

“What about you?” He questioned.

“Not to be of your concern,” She sighed. “I’ll figure out what to do with myself.”

He shrugged to himself. It wasn’t a half bad idea especially since he didn’t recall the last time he slept... He walked into the back and fell face first into the bed. The pillows were down and he could tell by the way the feathers poked out at his face and the way his head sunk into the pillow. He was still able to fall asleep in seconds of hitting them, though.

Donghyuck woke up with his head pounding and no concept of time. The banging coming from the kitchen is what really woke him up. At first, his sleepily self thought nothing of it until he remembered Cosimia. His mind immediately went to worst case scenario: Ten came to strangle them so he rushed out of bed. Though, he care out to see her just sitting in a stool, in front of her on the counter was her amethyst crystal only this time practically split into two. He also saw a hammer, chisel, some cord and small pieces of metal.

“What the hell?” He muttered as he rubbed his head to sooth the pounding.

“Sorry for waking you up.” She said rather sheepishly. “I was making something for you.”

“What?” He asked, forgetting about his headache.

It seemed like she was aware of what he had been doing though. She pulled out a bottle from her bag and opened it for a couple pills. She handed them to him along with a water bottle. She didn’t have to say anything but encouraged him to take him which he did without a word of it.

“I made you something.” She repeated.

She grabbed something he didn’t get to see before she hid it in her hand. She hopped off the stool before she made him turn around. He felt something hit his chest and could hear her tying of cord behind him too. He looked down and saw a piece of amethyst dangle in the middle of his chest. He turned back around, confused as he held the small piece in his hand.

“Do you remember what amethyst symbolizes?” She asked.

“Yeah...” He hummed, not able to really forget even the smallest details of that night.

“Good,” She smiled. “It’s so you can be protected from evil, even when I’m not around to protect you from it.”

He wanted to ask, what about her? What would protect her from evil? Who would protect her from evil? Why was it her job to protect him from it? But he knew what she would say, that’s not of his concern. She was like that. To be frank, he liked the idea of someone wanting to protect them but he also wanted to be one to protect them as well.