#so many more scenes of them just arguing or going back and forth

[ruumiinlaulaja]

So I rewatched Mastermind, specifically the court scene. It's interesting to observe this near constant back and forth between Andrealphus and Vassago. It's quite obvious they know each other. But it's unclear how well they know each other. Just how deep is the connection between them, I wonder?

When we first see them, Andre hasn't even started talking yet, and Vassago is already glaring directly at him. Andre might be looking at Vassago too, it's hard to tell, but it feels significant that they’re directly opposite from one another, on the opposite ends of the room. At this point nobody knows Andre is going to be in the spotlight, but Vassago certainly seems to pay attention to him. Therefore, he absolutely knows this bitch and he knows he's up to something. There is history between the two of them.

The "okay, Vassago, shut the fuck up" line is the most obvious implication about their familiarity. I also find it interesting how Vassago is the only one standing up to Andre and has no problem challenging him or yelling at him. And yet, after Andre's emotional burst, Vassago pretty much dismisses him, apparently knowing there's no point arguing with him. This also implies there is deeper familiarity between them.

After Blitz blurts out ”if I wanted to kill Stolas I would have done it myself” and unintentionally incriminates himself, Andre is looking directly at Vassago to see his reaction. And he smirks. At Vassago. Nobody else. Why does he need to convince Vassago of all people? 🤔 Sus. Also, when Satan sentences Blitz, it’s interesting how they show Andre and Vassago and their reactions almost back to back like that.

Idk it all feels very intentional. It feels like there’s a small story being told through these small details. At least to me it feels significant, because these moments show how they notice each other and watch each other throughout the whole scene, even when neither of them are in the spotlight.

So, what's up? Are they frenemies? Enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies?? Lovers to enemies and back to lovers??? Ugh just fuck him and shut him up, Vassago.

Of course I might be reading too much into this (probably because I'm pretty desperate to see my silly ship together lmao), but I certainly hope the connection between them is more than ”they know each other from goetian social functions”.

Also, why confirm them as gay if this detail is not going to get explored in any way? Sure, the subject of their sexuality can be handled in many ways (and potentially never get "explored" in canon, as characters can just exist as gay without it being a big deal), and it certainly doesn't have to automatically lead to romantic storylines. I just find it interesting how out of all the goetias it's these two specifically that have been confirmed as gay (in addition to Stolas) - and Vassago's sexuality got confirmed before he even appeared in the show. Surely, that has to mean something?

....please?

tl;dr: I’m going to be really sad if there won’t be any sort of established (past or future) relationship between these two in canon. I really want to see more scenes between Andrealphus and Vassago.

tl;dr2: I really want them to fuck.

[scrivler]

Was no one gonna tell me that the case study of Vanitas’ manga is way gayer than the anime or was I just meant to find that out for myself

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

**italics are a jump back in time**

The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.

“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.

“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.

“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”

Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”

You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.

“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.

“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.

You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.

“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.

“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.

“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”

You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”

“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.

“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.

“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.

“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.

“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”

Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.

You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.

You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before. 

You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful. 

“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.

“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.

“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”

“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.

“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.

They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.

“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.

“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.

“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms. 

“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.

“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.

“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.

He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.

You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.

“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.

“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”

You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.

“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.

“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.

When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.

“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.

Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.

“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.

“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.

You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.

“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance. 

“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.

“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.

“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise. 

“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.

He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”

“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.

“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.

You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.

He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”

You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.

“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.

Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.

“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.

He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions. 

You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.

It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.

Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy. 

“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.

“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.

You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.

“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.

“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”

“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.

“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.

“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.

You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.

“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.

He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.

When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.

As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.

“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.

“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.

“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.

“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”

Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision. 

“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will. 

“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.

“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets. 

Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.

The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.

“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.

“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.

“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.

““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.

“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.

“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.

“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.

He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”

“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.

“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.

“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.

He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.

You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.

It finally feels like Christmas.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.

The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.

By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.

“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”

She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.

“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”

She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.

“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”

“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”

Yes, you can. And you do.

You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.

“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.

“Want another drink?” She asks.

“No, think we’re good.”

“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.

“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”

You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.

You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.

You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.

You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?

The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.

As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?

You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.

You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.

“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”

Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.

“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.

“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”

“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”

“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”

“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”

“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”

Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.

You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.

“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”

“Maybe we should just leave now.”

“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”

You nod, “yeah, I did...”

“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”

“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”

“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.

You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.

“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”

“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”

The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.

You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.

“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”

“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”

You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.

“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.

“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.

You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.

“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.

You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.

“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”

She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.

“You know her?”

“My sister,” you murmur.

“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”

“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.

He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.

You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.

“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.

“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”

“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”

You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”

She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”

“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”

“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”

You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.

“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.

You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.

“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”

“She alright?” He points at your sister.

“Tipsy,” you utter.

“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”

“Uh, you don’t--”

Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.

You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.

"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."

"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."

"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."

"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.

"I didn't think... I let her--"

"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.

"I guess... yeah. Sorry."

"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."

"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"

"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."

"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.

"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.

You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.

He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."

"What? No. That's... too much."

"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."

"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.

[makorragal-312]

Here's how the BuckTommy break-up should've went down...

Tommy reveals that him and Abby were previously engaged and Buck become visibly bothered at the mention of her When Tommy presses him on it, he tells him about his history with her and how she just left him in LA without bothering to formally break-up with him, along with him finding out she was engaged when they encountered each other at the train emergency.

But Tommy being Tommy ends up cracking a couple of jokes at Buck's expense and is relatively insensitive about how Abby's ghosting impacted Buck, leaving Buck hurt and a bit embarrassed as Tommy leaves him to pay the bill.

Then, he can go to see Maddie at work where he vents to her about what happened. Then they can have the whole scene with Joss giving his advice.

BUT, instead of listening solely to Josh, Buck goes to see Hen.

Buck tells her about what happened and she is immediately sympathetic. He ends up telling her that he never expected Tommy to be so insensitive about what he went through with Abby and how it didn't seem to be like him, only for Hen to make a slight jab about how that's exactly what Tommy is like. Buck is immediately alarmed and ends up pressing Hen to tell him more until she finally caves. She tells him about the way Tommy treated her when she first came to the 118 and how he did the same thing to Chim. She even decides to go as far as to make him privy to the conversation she and Karen had with Tommy at the medal ceremony.

Buck, obviously, is stunned and horrified at what he learned and immediately leaves the Wilson household.

Once he's back home, he spends the whole time running through his entire relationship with Tommy from the first kiss up to now. And while he can think back to a couple of good moments, the moments that come back up the most are the bad ones.

Him leaving Buck behind at the restaurant.

Him devouring cupcakes while Eddie's getting his heart shattered.

How pessimistic he was at the medal ceremony reception.

How he practically admitted he and his coworkers were laughing at him getting his shoulder relocated.

Him not bothering to indulge his research.

How he practically called him ugly because of his boils and didn't even attempt to kiss him.

Every single comment he made on how hot he was and not a single one about his interests, likes, or him as a person.

And as of late, him making jokes about him being ghosted.

All instances where he felt stomped on while his partner was going on like nothing happened.

The same way that Abby did when he learned she ghosted him and came back in his life with a whole new fiance.

After that, Buck calls Tommy to meet him at his place.

Later that night, Tommy comes over and Buck lays out everything on the table. He tells him about how hard and lowkey embarrassing it was to tell him about how he was also seeing Abby and how the relationship ended and how he didn't appreciate how Tommy reacted to it. Tommy tries to deflect and say that he was only being funny, but Buck pushes back. He brings up all of the times he hurt him and how it surprised him to know that he's done the same to so many people.

Tommy ends up asking where he got that from and Buck says nothing. But after a few seconds, he asks if Hen or Chim told him something and Buck gets furious. He scolds Tommy for being so bigoted towards them and how it made no sense for him to treat them like that when he was a gay man. Tommy tries to make an excuse about him being in the closet and going along with Gerrard to protect himself, but Buck immediately shuts it down.

The two of them continue to have a back and forth and it isn't until Tommy tells him to "grow up" that Buck stops arguing, a look of finality flashing across his face. He ends up telling Tommy point blank that he really liked him and how he made him realize a part of himself that he never knew existed, but he couldn't be with someone so dismissive and so capable of hurting other people with no regard for their feelings.

Tommy immediately laughs it up and asks Buck if he's actually breaking up with him. And Buck says yes with no hesitation.

Seeing that he's serious, Tommy heads to the door but not before commenting on how he thought Buck was cute and how they could have some fun out of it, but he was wrong. He opens the door and says "See you around, Evan."

And Buck, with a look of seriousness and resigned hurt, simply says.

"My name is Buck. If you actually cared to know me, you'd know that."

And Tommy simply shrugs and leaves.

[tossawary]

Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.

But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?

Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.

Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.

Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.

I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)

But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!

Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.

[buggybambi]

So glad you're back!! Would you ever consider writing for Carmy x Richie's younger sister again?? I had an idea (if you want to write it, please dont overwhelm yourself) where reader and Carmen are fighting while reader is pregnant with their first baby and Carmen says something kinda mean to her and then she goes into laboro unexpectedly?! And seeing how Richie would react to that and be so defensive of his little sister 🥹

hi love! hope this is okay :) | fem!reader, mentions of a hospital, nicu stay/labor

You know he didn't mean it. Calling you stupid for showing up to the Bear that day when there was tools laying about, too many unknown people being around. He was just a worried soon-to-be dad, but that didn't make it easier.

Carmen was always protective over you, and now that you two had a baby on the way, it heightened. He was already on edge with the amount of repairs being done that day in the Bear, and the hazardous scene the restaraunt was in. He was just stressed out and took it out on you, like an idiot.

You didn't stick around to hear his apology after the words slipped out of his mouth. "Why are you being so difficult about this!? Showing up here was fucking stupid of you!" Nat took you outside to get you both away from each other, give you both some space to breathe. You could hear Carmen leave the restaraunt, disappearing to who knows where.

You sigh as you lean against the fence outside, gripping it with one hand. "He didn't mean it, it's just- there's been a lot happening today. Like a lot. Our fridge guy couldn't come and then a health inspection." Nat tried to explain. You were barely listening as your eyes squeezed shut. The pain in your abdomen and back you'd been briefly experiencing for the past few minutes had subsided as you let out an exhale. Syd stepped out at the same time.

"Hey, woah, you alright?" She asks. "Yeah, yeah sorry. Just Braxton Hicks. They just haven't been this intense." You answer. Syd stares at you both before clearing her throat. "I think your water just broke." She says.

You stare at her for a second, almost laughing. "Funny, Syd, but this isn't the time-" You look down and realize she's right. Your water just broke. "No, no, no it's too soon. We don't.. Carmen has to be here. You say, your voice filled with panic.

"Honey, I don't think you have a choice. Let's go to the hospital, okay? Syd, call Richie and Carmen, tell them to meet us at Chicago West." Nat takes your hand, helping you walk around the corner to her car, where she proceeds to break more then a few traffic laws.

"Who the fuck are you to talk to my sister like that?" Richie demands. The two were going back and forth after Carmen got back to the restaraunt. "Richie, I'm not fucking doing this with you right now." Carmen argues.

Syd walks in, exhaling. "Do either of you check your phones?!" She asks. "I don't know, he's a dumbass." Richie comments as Carmen rolls his eyes.

"Mine's.." Carmen frantically searches his pockets. "It must be in my office. What's the matter?" He asks. Syd frowns. "Y/n went into labor outside, Nat took her to Chicago West. I've been trying to call you to get you there before you miss the birth."

Carmen's already out the door by the time she finishes talking.

────

"If Carmen misses this, I'm going to kill him." Nat comments as she puts a pillow under your back for support. You sigh, laying back. The room is mostly quiet, except for the beeping of equipment. Monitoring your heartrate, your baby's heartrate, your contractions. It feels surreal to watch them increase and decrease with spikes on the monitor.

"He won't miss this. He'll be here." You say, your voice laced with doubt. You knew if Sydney had gotten ahold of Carmen, he'd be speeding to the hospital. Your doctor had been trying to push back your labor as much as she can, but you knew you were about to start pushing soon.

"I really hope you're right. I'm gonna go get you more ice chips." She says, stepping out of the room. You stare at the heartbeat monitors before you hear a small knock on the door. You turn to find Carmen in the doorway. "Hi." He says softly.

You smile. "Hey. Nice of you to drop by." You say, waiting for him to come over to you. When he doesn't immediately, you hold your hand out for him. He practically runs, taking it. "I'm so sorry. For not being here and for what I said. I shouldn't have- you didn't deserve that."

You shake your head. "Carm, you're here now. I'm glad you are. I love your sister but she is not a good birthing coach." She comments as he laughs.

He presses a kiss to your head. "I'm here now." He says. You squeeze his hand lightly. "I know you are, Carmy." Nat smiles as she returns. "Good, you get to live. Here are your ice chips. Best of luck." She wishes, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You smile. "Thanks for being so helpful, Nat."

────

Within the next half hour, your baby boy was in the world. Laying on your chest, his tiny hand wrapped around Carmen's finger. "He's so perfect." Carmen whispers, his voice filled with such fondness.

You two decided on a name: Theodore "Teddy" Berzatto. He was perfect to you two. Your own little boy, your son.

Richie and the rest of the staff came by the hospital. You swooned over your big brother getting to hold your little boy. "He looks just like dad." Richie admits quietly. You nod. "He does. Looks like dad and Mikey." Carmen agrees.

Your son couldn't have been surrounded with more love.

[luxsky]

First of all, Kicking out was amazing! I love reading domestic fluff like this! I would love to see the birth scene and the aftermath/Rhys interacting with his newborn. Rhys is such a simp and is the type who would do anything for his mate and the people he loves so it would be cute to see it in that context especially since we were robbed of it in silver flame.

Again, I love reading your fic and it’s amazing that this was your first one! Looking forward to reading more!

Kicking Out, part 2

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader and Rhysand's baby is born, and they revel in the love that surrounds them.

Warnings: Amateur description of childbirth, fatigue, a brief snippet of body insecurity, biological inconsistency – I think that's it, but I could be mistaken.

Author's Note: I procrastinated so much to write the second part until I realized that months had passed since the first part. I truly apologize for taking this long; it wasn't my intention. Thank you for all the love, support, and compliments; my heart warms every time I reread them! ♥️ I promise to try and write more quickly. Again, thanks to everyone who commented, liked, and reposted the first part; I love you all. English is not my first language, so please let me know of any spelling errors!

Madja said that walking would help, the movement would make her body dilate faster, and the baby would be born in the blink of an eye. One detail she might have forgotten to mention is that contractions would also increase along with dilation. In the early hours, you managed to walk with some pauses, going back and forth in the corridor—going down stairs was certainly not an option—with your kind partner by your side, ensuring nothing would go wrong. However, as time passed, the pain radiating from your lower back to half of your leg became so intense that you limited your movements, entering your room and contenting yourself with small steps there.

At this point, the pain was so much that Rhys had to practically guide you, his hand supporting your lower back, while you used the other for support, holding it firmly. Your breath came out in gasps, and for a brief moment, your body was free from pain, and you wanted to feel relief, but after being there for hours, you knew it was only a matter of minutes until the next contraction would arrive and strip away any capacity to think.

"Rhys, I'm tired," you whispered, barely managing to finish the sentence before the pain coiled in your back and flowed down your legs again. A moan escaped your lips, and you bent forward, your legs almost giving way, Rhysand quickly holding you, preventing you from reaching the floor.

"Come, dear, let's get you on the bed," your partner's voice was filled with tenderness and concern. He pulled you towards the large, comfortable bed you shared, and even though you wanted to keep walking, as Madja advised, your energy had long run out. So when Rhys helped you onto the bed, you didn't argue.

Your hands released Rhysand's, leaning on the bed. Before you could put your legs on the mattress, another contraction came, and a strangled scream of pain left your throat just as Madja returned to the room, carrying towels and other things that your mind didn't process.

The position you were in was strangely comfortable, the upper part of your body supported on the mattress. When your partner touched you again, as if telling you to lie down, tears welled up in your eyes. If your body wasn't so trapped in pain, you might have told him that it was okay, that this position was good.

"I know it's comfortable, love, but if you lie down, Madja can examine you better," Rhysand would know what you were thinking. You probably lowered your shields, projecting many feelings to him. You tried to block him, wanting to spare him the pain, but the claws caressing your mind gave you a hint that he didn't want that.

Before another contraction came, you decided to listen to your partner and finished getting on the bed. Rhysand was quick to arrange the pillows behind you, trying to keep you as comfortable as possible.

Madja approached, a gentle smile on her face as she asked for permission and adjusted your legs to examine you. The pants you wore earlier had been replaced by a light dress, shortly after your water broke.

Rhys sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding yours while the other moved some strands of hair from your face. He did his best to secure it in the best way possible due to your position, knowing well that sweat and loose hair weren't a comfortable combination. He left a gentle kiss on your forehead, and another contraction arrived. Instinctively, you squeezed Rhysand's hand, another strangled scream escaping your lips as your whole body trembled with pain. This time, the tears that came to your eyes freely flowed down your face.

"I see the baby's head," Madja said, her eyes locking onto yours as she explained gently. "In the next contraction, I need you to push."

You nodded, not trusting your voice to respond. You were so tired, and there was still so much left for this to be over.

"It's almost over, dear, you can do it," your partner reassured you for a few seconds, but then your back burned with pain again. Your entire body, even your arms, legs, and back, pushed instinctively as your partner murmured encouraging words.

You pushed and pushed, Madja saying she could already see the head, and it was almost there. Meanwhile, Rhysand talked to you, his voice so close to your ear.

"That's it, love, it's almost there," he spoke again, his hand passing through your forehead, wiping away the sweat that accumulated.

Once again, the pain arrived, and you pushed. Relief flooded you the moment the cry of a baby filled the room, mixed with your own cry as you threw your head back. The pain disappeared, and the only thing you felt besides relief was exhaustion. The warmth of your partner moved away, his hand leaving yours, the baby's cry stopped, and you looked for your child, finding her in the arms of the man you loved. A cloth wrapped the newborn, Rhys's arms cradling the small bundle as he walked, swinging to your side. Madja still hovered at the edge of the bed, making sure you were okay.

When your partner sat next to you again, you adjusted yourself and reached out, wanting to hold the baby. He smiled with so much joy as he passed your daughter into your arms.

"It's a girl," he murmured, and you felt tears returning to your eyes as you watched the little one. All your fatigue was forgotten as the small noise from your daughter's lips touched your heart.

Rhys extended his hand, and the baby grabbed his finger. You looked up at your partner, finding the same love you felt, shining in his eyes. He looked at you, a tender smile playing on Rhys's lips.

"Our little Ciara," you whispered, again mesmerized by your daughter. Rhysand placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and whispered an "I love you."

Your body started to feel heavy, your eyes almost couldn't stay open, the fatigue from hours pulling your consciousness.

"Rest, dear, you deserve it," was the last thing you heard before sleep took you completely.

When you woke up again, Rhysand had his back to you, rocking and murmuring something softly. Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you silently watched, your body still a bit lethargic from the previous effort.

When he turned around, it took him a moment to notice you were awake. His eyes were fixed on your daughter. He smiled gently when he realized your gaze, calmly sitting on the bed with Ciara sleeping in his arms.

"For how long did I sleep?" you whispered, not wanting to wake her. You sat up, leaning against the bedhead when Rhys offered the baby to you.

Just a few minutes. Madja said you wouldn't sleep much; your instincts would wake you up at some point to breastfeed Ciara.

Your partner communicated, and, sensing the change of location, Ciara began to move when you held her. It didn't take long for her little cry to fill the room.

Remembering the lessons you learned during pregnancy, with a bit of difficulty, you started breastfeeding the tiny baby. Her little hand instinctively grabbed your finger.

Rhys's hand reached for your face, brushing away your hair as his eyes reluctantly left their daughter to observe his partner; his body was relaxed. He rested his hand on your stretched thigh, lips pressed together, trying to contain a smile.

"I can't stop smiling every time I look at her. It's like my body fills with this... sensation, hard to explain, but it's a good feeling," he murmured, his thumb drawing circles on your leg.

You approached him, careful not to disturb Ciara, and planted a quick kiss on your partner's lips. Pulling away, you replied, "I feel it too."

Silent minutes passed; Ciara drifted into sleep on your chest. Rhys left and returned quickly, explaining the reason upon his return.

"I informed the others everything went well. Morrigan and Cassian wanted to visit, but I asked them to give us a few days alone," he said, leaning over to caress his daughter's small arm.

"I put Mor and Amren in charge of the court; they'll handle everything as we adjust to our new routine," he stepped back, heading towards another door in the room—leading to your private bathroom. "I also asked the house to prepare a bath for you. I'll check if everything's ready, and when I come back, I can take care of Ciara so you can relax in the tub."

You stood as he entered the bathroom, carefully lifting Ciara from your chest. Rhys returned silently, taking Ciara from you and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. He indicated the bathroom with a nod.

"Take your time, and call me if you need anything," he said. You nodded and walked slowly to the bathroom.

You felt strange, Ciara was no longer inside you, but your belly still had a slight protrusion. As you removed your dress and entered the bathtub, the warm water eased some of the discomfort, allowing you to relax.

Your mind easily drifted away from potential insecurities that might arise, although you knew they would return eventually. At that moment, the only thing you had the energy to think about was how cute your daughter was and how delightful it was to soak in the bath with bath salts and bubbles.

You relaxed in the bathtub for a while, washing the sweat from your body and taking a moment to tend to your hair. Your thoughts oscillated between enjoying the magically heated water for a few more minutes and checking on your partner and daughter. However, you didn't need to make a decision because you heard a gentle knock on the door.

Your voice was soft and weary as you signaled for Rhysand to enter – it could only be him, after all. As your partner opened the door, he carried a towel and a change of clothes. The smile that formed on his lips mirrored the one on Rhysand's face. He handed you the towel as you stood up, and the soft fabric enveloped your body for drying. Soon, you were dressed in the warm and comfortable clothes your amazing husband had brought.

"Where's Ciara?" Your curiosity and concern prompted the question. Rhysand placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and turned to grab a hairbrush as he answered.

"She fell asleep after feeding; I put her in the crib," he walked behind you, a murmur escaping your lips, signaling that you had heard his response. His hands were gentle as he worked through your hair, the brush smoothly untangling the strands that had become knotted during the intensity of childbirth.

"I want to stay close to her tonight. I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone in a room on her first day of life," your voice was no more than a whisper, and despite the concern engulfing your body, a hint of embarrassment for not being able to leave her was present too.

Your husband's shortly nasally laughter made you turn around to find his gaze as he finished brushing your hair. He didn't say anything, but one of his hands went to your cheek, Rhys's thumb tracing gentle circles. With the other hand, he placed the brush on the countertop behind you.

"I figured you'd want that," he whispered, his face approaching yours, and your foreheads touched. The soft smile remained on Rhys's face. Instinctively, your eyes closed as he neared, and you brought your lips close to his, planting a gentle kiss.

"That's why I did this," his hand grasped yours, and he pulled you back to the bedroom. A warm smile grew on his lips as he surveyed the scene. The bed linens had been changed to clean ones, and a tray filled with your favorite foods had been placed on the bed. Next to it was the crib that used to be in the small room designated for Ciara, and inside, peacefully sleeping, was your little baby.

You turned to your partner, your eyes moist with unshed tears. Rhysand was already looking at you, the star-speckled eyes of your partner smiling at you, the expression on his face radiating pure love. You hugged him, and his arms quickly embraced you, his warmth enveloping you. Your voice sounded muffled as you whispered a soft "I love you."

The kiss he planted on the top of your head was followed by a quiet "I love you too, my shining star."

"Come on, let's get some food in your stomach so you can watch our little one until you fall asleep."

Following your partner to the bed, you did exactly as he said: indulged in all the food he had prepared, lay on the bed facing your daughter's crib, and with Rhysand's arms around you from behind, watched the little bundle of joy until sleep pulled you into comfortable darkness.

[goldfades]

🍁with mark estapa?

congrats on 100!!🎉

MARKERRRR AHHH I LOVE HIM

this was also a very hard decision because he's just taylor swift coded tbh (i say that ab every man i find hot) but i decided on mine because LIKE ??????? HE'S SO SPEAK NOW.

HE IS THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER BEEN OURS.

you felt sick to your stomach, anxiety running through your veins as tears brimmed your eyes.

in the dimly lit living room, tension hung in the air like a heavy cloud. you sat on one end of the couch, while mark occupied the other. mark sat across from you, his face in his hands as he sighed loudly. this was the worst fight in your relationship this far.

you both had been arguing back and forth for the entirety of the day. the fight was about one of mark's close girl friends, who he had been close to since the 7th grade. ever since you guys had started dating, she had been a constant strain in your relationship but this time, she had crossed one too many boundaries.

she been constantly texting and calling mark, even late into the night, about her relationship with one his other friends. it felt like she was purposely trying to get closer to mark and cause a strain upon your relationship.

the final straw was when she confided in mark about a major issue in her own relationship that you considered highly personal. you had tried to bring up her weird behavior, but mark had always brushed it off, saying she was just going through a tough time and needed someone to talk to.

this behavior had been a source of ongoing tension, but today's argument had escalated to the point where you were questioning mark's loyalty and commitment, which you never had before.

mark sighed frustratedly loudly after the long silence. "you just don't get it, do you?"

"no, i get it mark! you're the one who doesn't get it-"

mark got his head out of his hands to face you. "she's just a friend, you're the one who doesn't seem to get that!" he raised his voice slightly which made your furrow your eyebrows.

"i know that, mark!" you yelled, matching his anger as you finally sat up from the couch. "i'm not saying you can't be friends with her, she just is getting way too personal and not to mention, touchy-"

"touchy? y/n, she's like a sister to me!"

"god, i'm so tired of you saying that!" you yelled, your face getting flustered out of anger. he rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "i get it, she's like a sister but i'm your girlfriend, and if you can't understand that then, i guess we are done."

you felt the tears slowly start to fall as you grab your bag from the couch. you started walking out of the living room, ignoring mark's calling of your name.

before you could walk out onto the driveway, you felt mark grab your arm and pull you back. "let go of me, go choose her, i'm done being the second choice!" you cried out.

you felt pathetic for crying even though you knew you were in the right. you also felt pathetic for wasting all those months with someone who seemingly didn't care enough to simply maintain some boundaries.

"no, y/n! look, i'm sorry! okay, i'm sorry." mark had finally broken the laid back facade he had been doing. you sniffled as you looked back at the brunette teary-eyed.

"you're sorry? that's it? that's all you're gonna say, mark?" you shouted in frustration, pulling your arm out his grasp. "you're like every other guy i've ever been with-"

"don't say that, please, y/n." mark sighed. he was distressed, he wanted to pick you, he really did. "if i talk to her, it would cause so many more problems with our families back home. she'd cause a big old scene, you know that."

"do i know that, mark? god, i am really that much of an inconvenience?" your tears had began again and this time, you swore you wouldn't be able to stop them. "i'm done."

before you could walk back to your car, he continued. "no, i will. i will for you, i've been wanting to do something for a while but now i.. i need to. i can't lose you, y/n." his voice slightly broke at the last part.

that made you stop in your tracks, "i don't want you to just do it for me."

"i'm not! i just, i can't lose you, if that means causing a whole thing back home, then so be it."

that was all you really needed to hear. you turned around slowly, tears still falling as he reached for your hand. you gladly took his and sighed as he pulled you into a hug.

"i'm sorry, i really am." he sighed as he pulled you closer into his arms, kissing the top of your head. "i won't ever leave you alone."

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

[oxymarie]

Title : Here, right now (not lost, but found)

Summary : It’s summertime in Feldcroft and Sebastian Sallow learns things about you (and himself in the process).

Warnings : A slightly graphic fight scene at the end. French people. Two idiots in love. Grammar and punctuation mistakes (probably).

Words : 8006

Note : The idea of Sebastian as a Healer comes from @ellivenollivander and her fabulous fic Reconciliation. If you like this one, go and give hers some love!

Someone was knocking at the door, which was both surprising and worrying, because it was the middle of the night.

Sebastian turned in his bed, praying silently that Uncle Solomon would open the door quickly and that whoever was at the door wouldn’t wake Anne up - his sister had had a string of bad days, the pain of her curse assailing her without mercy, coming stronger and stronger. He had stayed with her through it all, holding her hand, wiping her brow with a soft wet cloth and making her cups of tea. The pain was finally gone, and she needed to rest now.

Finally, he saw a sliver of light and heard his uncle open the door. He conversed for a few minutes with the person there in hushed, urgent tones before stepping out and closing the door, muffling the sound of his conversation and extinguishing the light of his wand. Now this sounded interesting.

Sebastian slowly got up and crept towards the window. He opened it quietly, hoping that the rusted hinges of the old pane wouldn’t creak, and leaned towards the place where he could just make out the outline of his uncle’s form.

« Kidnapped… hide them… safe here… Ministry… Diplomatic Incident… » Solomon’s answer was a low grumble. The man opposite him answered and the two kept arguing back and forth for a while, before finally stopping. « Fine, » he heard his uncle say, « bring them here tomorrow afternoon. » The stranger thanked him and Apparated. Sebastian hid in the shadows and waited as his uncle turned and entered the cottage. The older man closed the door behind him and used a spell to secure it - not a simple Colloportus, because it glowed a soft blue before disappearing - before taking a few steps into their main room. He stopped and looked towards Sebastian, still hiding in the shadows. « You are too old to play spies. » He spoke quietly and sighed before continuing, « Go back to bed, I will tell you in the morning. »

Because Anne was resting and he didn’t want to wake her by fighting with his uncle, Sebastian nodded and went back to bed, even though it was some time before he could go to sleep.

——

Morning dawned, bright and slightly dewy. Sebastian came to in a haze, unable to shake the last remnants of his dream - pretty eyes looking up at him, a mouth pulled by a grin and a soft voice saying things that he couldn’t quite remember - and abruptly remembered that he had to talk to his uncle. He groaned and went to get ready.

Feldcroft hadn’t changed much since his fifth year, even though he had, he mused. During that year, his friends had single-handedly stopped his descent into the Dark Arts : Ominis and the new student had sat him down after the Scriptorium incident and they had a long, emotionally charged talk. They had told him how worried they were, and how guilty they felt for not intervening before and for not protecting him. It was seeing his new friends’ tears that had convinced him, though, and he’d always remember the sound of her voice and the crack in her words when she’d said that she would never be able to handle the guilt if anything went wrong. Then Ominis had intervened and said that he wanted to save Anne, he had to do it the right way and become a Healer.

Of course his friend had been right, he thought, and after finishing Hogwarts and completing further studies, Sebastian had started working at St Mungo’s. He loved it and being able to help so many people every day made him and his family proud. His relationship with his uncle was much more relaxed now and he was able to soothe and alleviate Anne’s pains while still searching a cure for his sister’s curse.

He was currently in Feldcroft for a well-deserved holiday, while Ominis worked at the Ministry of Magic and his special friend was preparing for her new position. She had told him that Professor Weasley had approached her to become the new Professor of Magical Theory at Hogwarts, but that she was hesitating, not knowing if she would be able to fill the void left by Professor Fig’s absence. He had sat down with her in the sunny living-room of the house that she had bought after Hogwarts, surrounded by the smell of her perfume, and held her hand as he said that he wouldn’t see it as filling a void, but rather as a homage. She had smiled then - a breathtaking smile that caused his heart to miss a beat and whose memory has been inscribed in his brain since because it made the sun shine just a bit brighter - and had kissed his cheek. Two days later, she had told him that she had accepted the post and he had felt pride spark in his chest and wrap around his heart.

« Sebastian! » Anne’s voice rang through the cottage, « Breakfast! »

Torn from his daydream of you, he let the hazy image of a possible future float to the back of his brain and went to take a seat at the table.

— —

About half an hour later, when the tea and coffee had been drunk, the food consumed and the plates cleared and washed, Uncle Solomon sat them down.

« I have news, », he said, « and they are worrying. »

He explained that there had been a resurgence of Ashwinders lately, and that they were apparently looking for something. The Ministry didn’t know what, but the French Minister of Magic had been invited to consult. He had arrived two days ago with his wife and children, had met with various members of the Magic community and had been taken to a safe house for the night.

However, his uncle said frowning, when the Aurors tasked with the family’s protection had come back to next morning to relieve the night team, they had found their comrades’ dead bodies, a lot of blood, spell marks and two terrified children hiding in a closet.

« So last night, an old friend came to the house. As you might have heard, Sebastian, they need a quiet and safe place to hide these children while they look for their parents. They are afraid of sparking an international incident if the news get out, and they have asked me to take the young ones in for a few days. »

Anne gasped and sprung into action : « They can take my bed, » she said, « and I’ll go to the attic see if we still have clothes that could fit them. » « Wait, » Sebastian interjected, getting up and placing his hands on his sister’s shoulders, « They’ll take my bed because you need the rest. » As his sister started disagreeing, he looked at her and said : « I’ll get the tent from the attic while you look for clothes. Uncle Solomon, do you mind if I set it up next to the house? » His uncle answered he didn’t and Anne, convinced, sat down. « What can you tell us about the children? » Their uncle sighed: « Not much. They are quite young, not yet ten years old. There is an older girl and a younger boy. And we are going to have a problem, because they don’t speak English. »

That was going to be a problem, Anne thought, because even if the Sallows did understand French (which they did, because her and Sebastian’s parents had loved taking them on holiday to the French countryside or seaside when they were still alive) they hadn’t kept the practice. They could understand it well enough if the person they were speaking to was willing to slow down and repeat themselves, but actually speaking it was a whole other pair of shoes.

On the other side of the table, Sebastian was remembering a conversation he had had in Sixth year with some of his friends. They’d all sat down in the shade under a tree and Imelda Reyes was telling them that her parents were pestering her to take up Italian because « it would be useful for her resumé », before adding that if she had to learn a language, she’d rather learn French because then you would be able to help her. As they had all turned to you, you had blushed before explaining that your mother had been a governess and that she had taught it to you as well as German and Italian from a young age because she wanted you to be able to find a job someday if you needed it.

After that day, you’d started to meet several days a week with Poppy, Imelda and even sometimes Ominis (« Of course I speak French, don’t you know who I am? ») to practice. He had many memories of meals in the Great Hall being conducted entirely in whatever language you had chosen for the day, to the amazement of your fellow students and some professors. (Sharpe and Weasly had encouraged it, he remembered, and would sometimes stop by your table to participate.)

His uncle’s voice cut through his reverie : « I certainly hope that smile means that you have a solution, boy, because they’ll be here in less than two hours. » Raising his head with an even bigger smile, he answered : « As a matter of fact, I do. I need to send an owl. »

——

You were in over your head, you thought as you looked at the ever-growing mountain of books, parchment, quills and ink on your desk.

You had received an Owl from Professor Weasley (« Call me Matilda, dear. ») a few days earlier, outlining the academic requirements for your classes at Hogwarts, and you had started preparing for your classes immediately. You would be teaching years One through Seven, one hour a week for years One and Two, two hours a week for years Three, Four and Five, and three hours a week for the Sixth and Seventh years who had chosen Magical Theory for their N.E.W.T.S. - needless to say, you were swamped, exhausted and in dire need of a break.

You stood, stretching your back, and decided to make yourself a cup of coffee. You took the dirty cup on your desk and made your way to your sun-filled kitchen. You filled a kettle with water and coffee grounds and you were just setting it on the stove when a light tapping on your window panes caught your attention. You turned and saw Sebastian’s owl on your windowsill, waiting patiently for you to open it and let it inside. You did and it perched itself on the back of a kitchen chair, dropping your letter on the table and clearly waiting either for an answer or for a treat (but probably both). You gave it some owl treats you kept in a kitchen drawer and it flew away as you sat down to open your letter :

« Hey, you. I hope you are doing great. We have a bit of a situation here in Feldcroft. Would you mind stopping by as soon as you get this? Thank you and see you soon, Sebastian »

Now you were worried - why would Sebastian send an owl instead of coming directly to see you? And the tone was far from the one you were used to in his correspondence. Something must have happened, and it must have been serious.

You quickly got up, turning off the stove and closing the window, running out the kitchen to your entryway to put on your boots and a light coat before getting out and locking your door with a spell. Outside, your neighbor waved at you and started to come over for some light conversation but you quickly passed by him with an apologetic smile, telling him that you had an emergency right now but would be delighted to talk another day before Apparating without waiting for an answer.

— —

« Were we so tiny when you took us in? » Sebastian whispered to his uncle, looking at the two children that had been delivered earlier by three exhausted-looking Aurors.

Said children were now sitting side by side in an armchair, sipping on some hot chocolate that Anne had made them. They look terrified, Sebastian thought, watching the little girl gripping her little brother’s hand as if she expected them to rip him away from her at any minute. They still didn’t know their names, he realized, and he hoped his friend would be there soon.

« Yes, you were, » his uncle chuckled, « in fact- »

The end of his answer was cut by the sound of someone Apparating, followed by rushed footsteps coming to the front door. They readied themselves, hands on their wands in case of an attack, but relaxed when the door opened to reveal you, looking wildly worried and with your hair coming undone from its bun. You stopped in front of him and he caught your forearms, stilling you and asking you worriedly if you were okay and what the matter was.

« What- what’s the matter? Are you being serious? » you handed him a piece of parchment which he recognized as being his own letter, « This letter is the matter! I thought something had happened and that someone was injured or had died! »

There you stopped, both to take a breath and because you saw the children looking at you from their perch on the armchair, and Sebastian put his hands on your shoulders. « I’m sorry, Sweetheart (That’s new, you thought as your heart skipped a beat in your chest, both from the contact and from the nickname), I should have been clearer. We’ve been given charge of these little ones for a few days, but they don’t speak English and our French is… rusted, at best. Can you help? »

You sighed and gave his forearms a squeeze before stepping towards the two children. Once you got to them, you knelt down with a soft smile.

— —

Seeing you smile at the little ones made Sebastian’s heart flutter and his mind wandered down a path that it hadn’t walked before. It conjured an image of you, in a similar position, smiling and talking to children that looked strikingly like the both of you - his messy hair and your beautiful eyes, and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of a nose that was a lot like yours.

Suddenly, the little girl’s face scrunched up and sobs broke out as big tears started to roll down her cheeks. Uncle Solomon winced - he had never been comfortable with tears, or with any type of emotion really - and said he was going to make sure the cottage was secure. As his uncle left, Sebastian watched you hold out your arms and ask the little girl if she wanted a hug. When she nodded, you pulled her in your arms and she wrapped her own little arms around your neck. The boy said something then, and you sat on the armchair next to him, lifting one arm so he could join in the hug. Both children hid their faces in your neck and held on to you as you started humming a song for them.

In a desperate move to preserve his sanity and quiet his brain (She’s so pretty, how did I never see this before, and I love seeing her with children, and I would love to see her with…) he crossed the cottage to the kitchen, where he busied himself by making a fresh pot of tea.

While he was readying the cups, his uncle came back in and stood next to him. « They seem to have taken to her quite quickly, » he observed. Sebastian chuckled dryly : « She’s pretty and she smells nice. When you’re near her, you know that she’s safe and that she’ll fight for you if she has to. What’s not to like? » With that, he added a teaspoon of honey in a cup and left his uncle to set it on the small table next to your armchair.

And how do you know that? Thought Solomon, surprised. At that moment, he resolved to keep an eye on the both of you, to see if the feelings he guessed were simmering under his nephew’s skin were returned. As Sebastian set the cup down and you raised your head, smiling softly at him, he thought that they just might be.

— —

Some time later, when the children had calmed down enough so that the Sallows could introduce themselves, had eaten and were gone to sleep, everyone sat down around the table to discuss the situation. Uncle Solomon had brought you up to speed and you were now rubbing your nails along your fingers in what Sebastian recognized as an anxious gesture, which he stopped by catching your right hand in his and linking your fingers.

Thankful for the support, you squeezed his hand before taking a deep breath and summing up what you had learned : « The girl’s name is Béatrice and she is eight. The boy’s name is Arnaud and he is five. They are both very confused, and they clearly heard and saw things that they should never have. Béatrice told me that their mother hid them in the closet and used a vanishing spell on the door so that their assailants wouldn’t find them. The little boy didn’t hear or see anything, she made sure of it. »

« She’s a brave little girl, » said Anne, « I don’t think I would have been half as courageous as she was in her situation. »

« I’m sure that’s wrong », you answered as Sebastian protested.

« In any case, » Solomon said,  « they are going to stay with us at least for a few days. » He watched as you stifled a yawn before continuing : « Would you very much mind… »

« Of course not, » you answered, not letting him finish his sentence. « Preparing classes or spending time with my favorite people? That’s a non-issue. » You smiled, getting up slowly. « I’ll be back tomorrow with a few things to help with the little ones’ English. »

Sebastian also got to his feet : « I’ll walk you out. I’m testing out new sleeping quarters tonight. »

After saying your goodbyes to Anne, you found yourself walking outside with Sebastian and used the cover of the night to study his profile : dark eyes that you had grown to know better than your own, dark tousled hair in which you dreamt to bury your hands, a strong nose and a sharp jaw… Your eyes travelled downwards to his lips and you realized that he was talking to you : « -cold? »

Before you could answer anything beyond a surprised sound, he was divesting himself of his coat and settling it over your shoulders, closing the first button so that it wouldn’t fall off. « There, » he whispered, looking into your eyes and smiling, « I can’t have you catching a cold now, can I? » You had reached the fence that stood around Solomon’s cottage now and were facing each other. Before you could change your mind, you leant in, kissed Sebastian’s cheek, whispered a « Goodnight, Bash » and Apparated without waiting for his answer.

On his life, he would not have been able to say how long he stood there after you left before finally shaking himself out of his stupor and entering his tent.

— —

It was quarter to ten and you still weren’t there, which was worrying to Sebastian. The children were up and had had breakfast as well as a wash and Anne was entertaining them while Sebastian paced up and down the living room. Finally, Uncle Solomon grumbled : « For Merlin’s sake, Sebastian, sit down! I’m sure she had something to do and she’ll be there soon. » Then, under his breath, he added : « And you’re not even standing at the altar yet… » « Mmh? » Sebastian said before the sound of the door opening stopped him and you walked in, cheeks flushed and smiling.

« Good morning everyone! », you called out, setting a pack that was on your shoulder on the kitchen table. Then you turned, putting your hands on your waist, assessing the faces in front of you and stopping on Sebastian’s face. « Oh dear, » you said nervously, « what happened? » (You shouldn’t have kissed him yesterday, your brain provided, now he’s angry with you and he’s going to ask you to leave.) « Sebastian was worried because he thought you’d get there earlier », supplied Uncle Solomon, watching the two of you intently (They’re acting strange, he thought, watching you fiddling nervously with your hands and Sebastian rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly).

« I stopped at Poppy’s early this morning and we worked on these, » you answered, taking your pack and extracting five little booklets from its depths. You gave one to Solomon, one to Sebastian and one to Anne, and they flipped through them, seeing little drawings accompanied with words in English and French. « It’s an emergency dictionary! I had to tell her a small lie about one of my cousin wanting to practice to get her to draw those because I absolutely cannot draw to save my life, but I hope to be able to tell her the truth once this is done. », you babbled, embarrassed, until Anne looked at you with wide eyes and exclaimed that it was a great idea and that it would be very useful. « You are already thinking like a teacher, » Solomon teased gently, smiling.

Sebastian stayed quiet, his fingers tracing the lines of your handwriting and how the ink had curled on the « S » of his name. « The children’s are a little bit different, » you showed them and they saw that they had drawings but no words, just blank spaces. « If that’s okay with you, I’ll work with them for a little while before we take a break outside, » you told Solomon.

He agreed and you went to call the children, sitting with them at the table while Anne went to take a short nap (she would never tell Sebastian but she did feel a little tired with all this commotion).

Solomon went to tend his garden and Sebastien feigned opening a book that he knew he would not read, not when you were there and so much more fascinating than any story he might read at that moment.

You were facing him, seated between Béatrice and Arnaud, holding a quill and ready to write for the little boy while his sister had her own in her hand and was looking at you. You looked… breathtaking, he realized, and completely in your element as you softly corrected the little girl’s pronunciation of the word « name ».

You spent some time on basic introduction sentences and were soon able to send Béatrice over to him so that she could introduce herself in English. He thought that the way you obviously were hanging on the little girl’s every word, nodding encouragements and giving her gentle smiles was absolutely adorable.

With Arnaud, you worked instead on numbers and you were counting to ten together, making his little fingers dance with yours. When Béatrice had finished introducing herself to him (he had bowed and enthusiastically clapped at her, earning a screech of delight from the girl and a heart-stopping grin from you), she sat at her place beside you and decided that she wanted to learn how numbers were written. And back to counting you went, quietly correcting and encouraging the little girl until- « Alright, this one is eight. Now, there’s a little trick to remember how it is spelled, ready? Eight goes to the market, so it ends in G, H, T. »

And once again, Sebastian had to get up and distract himself, because his brain wouldn’t let go of the thought that he loved seeing you with children and that maybe, some day, soon, the children would be his.

Luckily for him, you decided at that moment that it was time to take a break and let the little ones run outside while you were tidying up the table and grabbing a book. Finally, you turned and and asked him : « Are you coming with us? » - which, of course he was, obviously, so he took your hand and outside you went.

— —

The sun was shining and everyone was there. You were sitting in the grass, a child on each side of you, sometimes reading them stories from the book on your lap, sometimes talking with them, sometimes even just listening to their conversation.

He felt Anne sidling next to him but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. « You know », she whispered, « if you want it to, this could be your life in a little more than a year. » « Pardon? » he asked, because he really did not see that coming. « Well, don’t take it wrong, but I’ve never seen you look at anyone this way. You’re both adults and you have enough funds to start a life together, if that’s what you want. » There, she stopped and smiled before adding, « I like her very much, and so does Uncle Solomon ».

Following his sister’s gaze, Sebastian turned to look at his uncle who was sitting on a bench reading some newspaper. Every so often, he remarked, Uncle Solomon would look up at you and the children sitting in the grass and it seemed like he would sometimes fight to keep a tiny smile from gracing his face, especially when you said something to little Béatrice and she exclaimed « No! » with wide eyes. You nodded, smiling, and he felt his heart leap in his chest. Could he really…?

« Anyways, » Anne softly interrupted his train of thoughts, « I have mother’s engagement ring. If you want it for her, it’s yours. »

There, Sebastian turned to her in shock :  «  I possibly couldn’t - Anne - it’s yours. It was mom’s, and it’s yours now. You should have something of hers. » But his sister shook her head and smiled : « Nope, not your choice ! If she is to be my sister, I’d like her to know that I want her in my life as much as you do. » Sebastian deflated, the sudden tension fleeing his shoulders as acceptance came over him. Finally, he whispered « I’ll think about it. »

At that moment, a pair of arms wrapped around his legs, making him wobble slightly. He looked down at little Arnaud, who smiled at him, pointed at the sheep in the nearby field and held his arms up. Sighing, he picked the child up, setting him on his hip, and made his way over to the pasture.

Anne looked at him for a moment and then looked back at you, observing the way you were admiring her brother before finally catching your eye. There, she raised an eyebrow and nodded towards Sebastian, before snickering as you mouthed « Absolutely not! » and making her way inside. She had a letter to write to a man about his two best friends.

« Do you think he knows ? » Uncle Solomon asked her as she passed by him and she turned to look back at her brother.

While she had been walking, you had taken Béatrice’s hand and led her to the apple tree that stood next to the sheeps’ enclosure, where Sebastian was holding little Arnaud up so that he could grab an apple. You had come up behind him and, as they watched, laid a hand gently between his shoulder blades. He was currently telling you something that they couldn’t hear but they heard your answering peal of laughter and saw Sebastian’s delighted smile.

« Well, if he didn’t, I’ve put that thought in his head. But honestly, I think he did, just not consciously. He’s never shown interest in anyone else, and she’s the only one that makes him smile like that. »

Solomon inclined his head, nostalgic : « Your father used to look like that at your mother, too. » Anne looked a him, surprised, and her uncle shrugged : « He’s a lot like your father. I don’t talk about them but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them, and I know they would be terribly proud of the both of you. » She didn’t know what to answer, so she settled for a smile and went inside to write her letter.

— —

All in all, it had been a very good day, Sebastian reflected much later. Once the children had tired of the apples and of the sheep, they had declared themselves hungry so you had gone inside to partake in the great meal that Anne and Solomon had cooked. Then, while the children (and Anne) had gone to lay down for a nap and Uncle Solomon had gone outside to check on his garden, he had some time to talk with you about his job, your new job (« It’s going to be a right mess, but don’t tell anyone », you had confided and he had delighted in taking some time to hear your fears and support you through them. He thought that it was a good sign that you wouldn’t hesitate to confide in him about matters that you would have kept from anyone else.)

At some point, you had gotten up and made him a cup of coffee, and he was surprised and thrilled to realize that you had made it exactly the way he liked it - with a dash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar. You had hidden a lovely blush when he had kissed you on the cheek, telling you that you were the only one beside Anne who could make it to his taste. « I watched you prepare it every morning for three years while we were in Hogwarts, » you defended yourself, « it’s really not that complicated! »

The memory of your smile at that moment sent some warmth to his heart and gave him a reason to hope, thinking back to Anne’s words earlier. He had gone to her just before going to bed, and she had given him their mother’s ring. He took the box from his nightstand now and opened it, looking at the piece of jewelry.

Sebastian wasn’t a man much given to introspection. He had always liked action more than reflection, but that night while everyone slept and he could not, he had not choice but to think. To think about you, more precisely.

He had never realized how truly important you were to him but, at that moment, all he could think and breathe was you. You were in the intervals of his heartbeats, and tucked under his breastbone. You were the most important person in his world, because you were his person.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t known before, he needed to tell you as much as he needed to breathe, but he knew that would have to wait at least until morning.

Sleep took him by surprise, but he succumbed to it with a smile on his face and the ring in his hand.

— —

The next day, an owl arrived as they were finishing breakfast. The short message in your rushed script read « Have to meet Professor Weasley in Hogwarts today. Am alive but will be late. »

All of the anticipation that had been building up inside Sebastian since he had gotten up fizzled out and he had to keep himself from screaming in frustration. He apprized his family of the contents of your letter and, sensing his turmoil, his sister brought up the idea of spending the day by the shore with the children. You could join them there as soon as you arrived, Solomon added to cut Sebastian’s hesitations short.

But the day went on with no news of you. Even Solomon received news of his own : one of his Auror friends came to the cottage to tell him that they had received indications of the French Minister of Magic’s location and that an operation would be proceeding tonight in hopes to free his and his wife from their captors. They’ve worked well and quickly, Sebastian thought, and he took a moment to cross his fingers in hopes that everything would work out fine.

Finally, you appeared just as the afternoon concluded, walking down the beach to him as if you had been summoned from a dream and sitting down on the rapidly cooling sand next to him. For a while, neither of you said anything, until you sighed and laid down on the sand, looking up at him:

« I didn’t think I still had so many things to learn about Hogwarts. » Sebastian turned and looked at you : « How so? » You chuckled : « I had to take a tour of some of the places we never were allowed in when we were students. Did you ever wonder why you seldom saw the teachers coming and going to classes? Well, the answer is secret passages. Also, the teachers have a break room that is to die for, with a private library. » « All in all a good day, then? » He asked. « You could say that. I’ve seen my classroom and Matilda has gone over some academic requirements from the Ministry with me. Apparently they change every few years and I will have to keep an eye out for them. » « My poor, poor Sweetheart, » he laughed before extending his hand to brush your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, making his heart flutter with hope. Now, he thought, I have to ask her now.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Arnaud and Béatrice ran in, having finally spotted you, and the moment was lost.

——

That night, Sebastian took a deep breath and, after the children had been sent to bed, asked you if you’d like to take a stroll with him. As you smiled and agreed, he opened the door and stepped aside to let you pass - with a glance over his shoulder, he saw Anne giving him a thumbs up and rolled his eyes.

Once you both were outside, he offered you his arm (« That’s strange, » you thought, « he’s never done that before. ») and you went on your way up the hill, talking quietly about your day.

Once you’d arrived at the top of the hill, he turned to face you as you stopped, hesitating slightly before speaking : « I’ve been thinking about the future. » You smiled even though you felt anxiety suddenly course through your body, making your heart speed up and your thoughts scramble and bounce around your head : oh Merlin he’s met someone and he’s going to ask her to marry him and he’s going to tell me that he is giving me some notice because I’m his friend and he wants me to come to the wedding and she’ll probably have his children and I won’t see him anymore but he will be happy and he deserves it and-

« Hey are you okay? », Sebastian said, looking a tad worried and leaning slightly forward to look at you in the eyes, « You’ve just gone very pale. » You forced a smile and turned your head : « No, don’t worry, I’m fine. » Then, because apparently you liked pain, you went on : « Have you met someone? » He put a hand on your shoulder as he answered : « Well, yes. Or no, not recently, it’s complicated. » You raised an eyebrow at him : « Yes, it must be, if you don’t know if you met her recently or not. »

Sebastian sighed and wracked a hand through his hair : « What I was trying to say is… » 
An explosion followed by screams cut him short. You both turned and looked at the village below.

« Oh no. They’re here and they’re going for the kids. » You looked at each other and took off at a run.

Feldcroft was on fire. Sebastian stopped and looked around him, trying to locate Anne or his Uncle. You didn’t stop, passing by him and preparing yourself for the fight. You quickly ran through the mental list of the things you might need - Wiggenweld Potion, wand, knife - before charging at the first enemy you saw, making your way to the Sallow cottage. The man in front of you flashed you a dirty grin and pointed his wand at you. You stepped aside, dodging his spell, and cast one of yours - which did hit its intended target, sending the man flying against a tree before hitting the ground and staying there.

You saw a burst of light on your left and were preparing to be hit when an arm wrapped around your waist and lifted you out of the way, casting a very strong « Protego ». Sebastian grinned at you « I’ve got your back, Sweetheart. Go get the kids. » Even as your heart did a little flip in your chest, you kissed his cheek and kept going, knowing that he was protecting you and that you would be okay.

As you burst into the Sallows’ cottage, you saw two things : Anne standing in front of Béatrice and Arnaud, a scowl on her face and her hands empty, and a man advancing towards her, extending his hand to shove her away. You couldn’t use your wand - they were all too close, you would hurt someone - so you did the first thing that came to your mind and grabbed a chair, hitting the man on the head with it once, twice and then a third time to make sure that he would stay down.

Then you got to Anne and, without thinking, handed her your own wand : « I’m glad you’re okay. Take my wand and stay here, I’ll clear a path out for you and the kids. When I say so, grab them and run - don’t look back, don’t come back, stay hidden and don’t stop. Can you do that ?» Anne nodded and grabbed Arnaud’s hand without a word while Béatrice held on to her skirt. You kneeled to talk to them : « You are being very brave. Stay with Anne and stay together. She will keep you safe and so will we. » (I’m going to Hell because of this kind of promises, you thought.)

You turned and went to the back window, quietly opening it. The sounds of the ongoing battle reached you and anxiety churned in your stomach as you thought about Sebastian. Please be okay. You went out of the window, tip-toeing behind an Ashwinder that was standing guard.

Releasing your dagger from its sheath, you grabbed his neck and sliced his throat in the same move, covering his mouth so that he couldn’t make a sound and dragging his body behind a nearby crate. Then you checked that the way was clear - it was - and you signaled to Anne, who hoisted first Arnaud, then Béatrice out of the window before following them herself. Quickly, you led them to the edge of the village, checking to and fro to see if you could see anyone or if someone had seen you, ready to defend them if you had to.

But you didn’t have to, and soon you were watching them disappear in the Highlands, away from you but towards safety. You breathed out, rolling your shoulders and turned again towards Feldcroft.

The first person you saw was not the Sallow that you expected. Solomon was fighting two Ashwinders at the same time and doing brilliantly - he even had time to look you way when you passed by him before telling you (or more like screaming at you) that Sebastian was towards the center of the village, helping people get to safety. Nodding your thanks at him, you charged on, dodging here a fist and there a curse.

One woman dared to come at you with a sword, but you were quicker and had more stamina, having just joined the fight. Soon enough, she was on the ground unconscious and you had acquired a very sharp-looking sword that you were just dying to use.

You kept trudging on, looking for a sign, any sign of Sebastian in the mayhem around you until finally, finally you spotted him, fighting alongside one of the village’s citizens. What you also spotted was the man making his way over to him, the tip of his wand already lighting up with a curse that was aimed at Sebastian’s back, and you felt your heart stop in your chest, several thoughts flashing in your brain all at once - no, I can’t lose him, I can’t let him die, do something, I love him. In your head, the spell landed on his back, the light in his eyes extinguished, the mischievous spark that you adored gone forever and your heart rebelled against it. With no time to think, you ran over to him and did the first thing that came through your mind - which was throwing your sword.

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he watched the object fly past him and came back to you as he head the telltale sound of it finding its target and of a body falling to the ground. He caught you by the waist : « Nice shot, but I feel that I must inform you that swords are very much not throwing weapons, Sweetheart. » You smiled at him and raised an eyebrow, pushing the realization that you just had at the back of your brain for now, to be puzzled over later : « It worked, didn’t it? »

There, a few things happened all at once : from the corner of your eye, you saw a green flash aimed at you, and, in front of you Sebastian’s face lost all color as he threw himself against you to push you to the ground. The spell whizzed over your heads and you didn’t think as you used your weight to roll over Sebastian while calling your Ancient Magic to you. A flash of lightning came down from the sky and blew the witch who had tried to kill you to smithereens.

It was then, of course, that you heard the telltale sounds of multiple Apparitions at the same time : the Aurors had finally arrived, even though they were fifteen minutes late and a Galleon short. The fight seemed to instantly die down, as the Ashwinders that could chose to disappear either by Apparating or by running.

After a heartbeat, you looked down to Sebastian (how long had his hand been on your waist?), Uncle Solomon skidded down to a stop next to you and said : « I’d get up, if I were you. » Red-cheeked and embarrassed (somehow, you knew that he wouldn’t let the both of you live it down), you stood, offering Sebastian your hand. He grasped it and also found his feet, before tugging you close. Then you felt his hands ghost over your cheeks, your shoulders and your arms before settling around your waist. Belatedly, you understood that he was checking you for injuries.

Uncle Solomon rolled his eyes before whispering : « I’d better go talk to them. Don’t worry, » he looked at you, « I didn’t see anything, even though that was a nice throw. » With a wink at you and a nod to his nephew, he strode away.

When you turned back to Sebastian, he was looking intently at you, and before you could speak, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, his left arm around your waist and his right arm at your back, hand buried in your hair and his cheek on the top of your head. « I’m fine », you mumbled, hugging him back. « I know, » he answered with a strange voice, « but you almost weren’t. »

He kept you close to him for a long time, as people walked around you to go back to their homes and assess the damage, as Aurors made their last arrests and took away to bodies and as dawn slowly started to lighten the horizon. All this time, you waited, listening to his heartbeat and basking in his warmth, your head resting on his shoulder. All this time, he fought with his brain - she’s okay, she’s alive, she’s breathing - the words spinning again and again in his head as a thought that he had kept in the background finally came to the surface and won the race against all the others, and it wouldn’t let him go until he voiced it, and so he did, in the cold damp air of the summer dawn, as the light barely brushed your face.

« Marry me. »

You looked up at him, absolutely not expecting this, you who had silently been preparing you to lose him one way or another. You could barely mutter, in a broken-up voice : « Bash… »

He smiled softly and tilted your chin up with a finger so that he could look at you in the eyes : « If you say no, I’ll not speak of it anymore. I hadn’t realized before now, you know, all the ways that I love you. It’s the way you smell and how I know you’ve been there when I smell your perfume, it’s the way any room you walk into seems to brighten just a little, it’s the way you frown when you don’t agree with what I am saying, it’s the way you laugh when no one is looking, with your nose slightly scrunched up, it’s the way you always have a smile ready for everybody. It’s the way you care, very much, all the time, about the people close to you. It’s the way you know how I take my coffee and my tea, it’s the way you smile when you see me, even if you don’t know it. »

He sighed and the back of his hand brushed your cheek, coming away covered with tears.

« It’s also the way I seem to always be looking for you when I get somewhere, it’s the way I’d do anything to keep you safe. It’s the way I want you to be proud of me, and would do anything to make you so. It’s the way I cannot stand to see you cry and it’s the way I’d do anything to make you laugh. It’s the way I am ready to promise that I’ll do everything to make you happy. So please, please (there tried to take a step away from you, but you tightened you hold on him without a word, looking in his eyes and smiling encouragingly when you felt him falter and start to hesitate) marry me. » There you had to blink away your tears, and he must have read your answer in your eyes, because you had barely enough time to let out a « yes » before he picked you up in his arms and kissed you.

A cheer went up nearby, and as he put you down you both blushed furiously, because you had apparently become the focal point of the people of Feldcroft and of the few Aurors who were still there and who had become the witnesses of your happiness. You ducked your head and Sebastian laughed, taking a hold of your hand before jokingly bowing to your unintended public.

As he straightened up, he looked at you : « Ready to go? ». At your responding nod, he tucked your hand in the crook of his elbow and took you back to his Uncle’s cottage.

— —

Before entering the cottage, Sebastian stopped : « Wait, » he said, « I have something for you. »

Then he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small jewelry box. He opened it and extracted its contents : a beautiful ring with a blue-green stone surrounded by small diamonds. Your delighted gasp made him smile : « I’m happy that you like it. It was my mother’s and Anne gave it to me so that I could give it to you. She said she wanted you to have it. »

He slipped the ring on your finger then, and you both watched as it glinted and caught the early sun’s light. « Sneaky girl, » you whispered, your voice cracking at the realization, « she knew all along. » « I think everyone but us knew, Sweetheart. » There he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. « Are you ready to face the lions? » he added teasingly.

« With you, I’d be ready for anything, » you answered, and you both took that steps that would bring to back to your family and into your future.

[instantpansies]

Haiii againn :3

Uhmmmm

I was wondering what your general mml hcs are :p

okay i think i'm finally prepared to answer this question!!! i'll preface this by saying i'm much more obsessed w phineas and ferb than milo murphy's law. i love mml very much but i don't have nearly as many Thoughts(tm) about it as i do pnf... even so here's what i've got

i'm not just saying this bc he's the voice actor, i think milo would listen to weird al. that and like '90s-'00s pop hits (basically canon anyway)

melissa has adhd and can't function without variety. she's always multitasking, fiddling, taking hard classes to keep herself occupied

definitely she's the type to really want one of those treadmill desks

that's part of why she gets along so well with milo, it's never the same with him. he's exciting

melissa is the most online of the main kids i think. she probably plays fps games and argues with people who disagree with her on twitter

i think melissa would be a vocaloid fan, lydia got her into it and she passed it on to amanda

btw lydia has been a miku stan since third grade

also melissa likes metal. i have no proof of this but i think she'd like it. good for studying

zack cannot stand metal though, it's grating and he can't hear the lyrics

on the topic of the main kids, i'm not super into shipping or anything but my philosophy is, they all have two hands. so casually speaking i really like the dynamic of simultaneous milo/amanda, amanda/melissa, melissa/zack (i'm not wild about them but if we don't go overboard zalissa is fine), zack/bradley, bradley/milo. they are in a circle holding hands and i like them a lot :3

however like i said that's just for funsies and i dont really really ship anyone there. i do like the dynamics of that particular arrangement though lol!

sara was a tumblr user during the equivalent of superwholock, now that that's not really a thing anymore she's gotten more into analysis and the more geeky side of dr zone fandom. she still watches the old edits though

okayyy i'm kind of obsessed w cavendish and dakota so they r always spinning around in my brain

i think brick and savannah are newer agents than dakavendish, which is why cav is kinda bitter. despite working for the agency for longer, he got stuck with the worst equipment and the most unfulfilling job possible

cav is probably a little frustrated at dakota because of this, but i'd think after so long working w him he's realized that it's not dakota's fault they can't seem to climb the ladder. they're just like that. but obviously he hasn't accepted his fate as we see in the show

dakavendish have been in the same semi-romantic semi-platonic situationship forever. neither of them has said a word. if they knew what a qpr was they'd really like that but they've never heard of it so instead they're just stuck Like That. hopeless idiots my beloved

cavendish watches ancient aliens and all those other sorts of shows about supernatural conspiracies. he half believes them. dakota watches them with him, ironically.

anyways back to the kids. lydia and buford met once at a concert for some famous orchestra, they don't really hang out but they email back and forth sometimes and exchange recipes.

lydia and amanda have been best friends for as long as anyone can remember. it sometimes seems like lydia is just amanda's sidekick, but she just prefers to step out of the way and do her part from behind the scenes. it's less stressful for both of them.

amanda hates candles. just can't stand them. they smell too strong, or never smell right, or they pose a fire hazard, or the shape doesn't fit the vibe she's going for.

related to that i think amanda has some pretty strong sensory aversions, especially to smells and certain textures

milo's backpack is essentially a pocket dimension. it's his hammerspace, so he doesn't need to think too much about what fits or not. he packs it every morning, but the stuff basically comes from already in that hammerspace. there are times when he packs the wrong things (which we see in one episode), but that's because they aren't stored in the backpack and are instead inaccessible to him

basically im saying milo is mary poppins and he can hypothetically access anything he needs at any time. issues only arise when he is caught unaware and unprepared, and that is very rare

milo and sara really like going to creeks. especially when they were little they would go to the nearest creek or pond and wade and look for creatures in the water

baljeet ran a boy bands fan blog back when the lumberzacks were active. he was shouted out once on their old social media and it's still one of his proudest accomplishments.

this isn't really an mml hc but baljeet kind of reminds me of a friend who runs a blog and a youtube channel about some really niche tech and programming stuff, and is also just a normal guy on the internet, so i think baljeet probably does smth similar

amanda and melissa have been academic rivals for a long time, but they have a mutual understanding and it's never gotten nasty. bradley thinks he's melissa's academic rival but honestly she doesn't see him as competition at all

bradley has a pretty big sweet tooth. i'm basing this off the whole carla thing if it wasn't obvious, but he definitely stops by coffee shops after school and gets the sweetest drink he can. ice cream fan as well

tbh i unfortunately do not think much about mort or chad. i dont have any hcs about them

same with the murphy parents :( i like them a lot but i dont have any thoughts abt them rn

elliot is bradley's older cousin who never really got along with him but their parents made them hang out when they were little. i'm going off vibes only here

okay so yeah that's all i can think of for now!!! i'm sure i will think of more later lmao but anyways. mml is such a good show

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices Deleted Scenes — finding Ahsoka and Rex pt. 3

“I got him.” Ahsoka leaned over, slipping her arms under Rex’s limp body. She grunted slightly as she rose, her best friend’s unconscious form heavy against her chest. If she used the Force to help support him, well, no one had to know.

“Damn, Commander.” Echo grinned, eyes crinkling.

She smiled back, adjusting her hold. “It’s from all the years having to carry the weight of being the best in the 501st.”

“Can’t argue with that one.”

Ahsoka started to maneuver her way down the ramp. “Fives would have. Jesse too.”

Echo followed close behind, his footsteps against the metal ship extra loud. “The General would have complained. Said you got it all from him, I’m sure.”

Ahsoka snorted quietly. “If anything, I got it from Master Obi-Wan.” She felt the twinge of guiltpainsorrow from behind her at the mention of her Grand-Master’s name. Her own similar emotions mingled with Cody’s, she was sure. He’s the only one left who understands, she thought. Even Rex… no one knew Obi-Wan like I did. Not like Cody did. Like Cody does.

Waiting at the bottom of the ramp was a hover-stretcher but no clone in sight. Ahsoka slowed slightly, glancing over her shoulder at the commanders behind her. Cody motioned her forward. “Just put him down. Medics probably just sent it ahead.”

Ahsoka nodded, placing Rex down on the stretcher gently. He groaned, his head turning toward her subconsciously. She stroked the side of his face, thumb brushing over the faint scar on his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay, Rex. They’re gonna fix you up, and then you and I can bug your brothers for hiding from us all these years.”

Bly snorted, coming up on her right. “I think it’s more we’re going to give him grief instead. To think, Wolffe knew all along and never told us, the asshole.”

“You can yell at him about it whenever he shows his face again,” Cody said. “For now, let’s get to the medbay; don’t think I missed that hit you took, Echo.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Echo took his place at the front of the hover-stretcher, hand just inches from Rex’s head. Bly grabbed the back, and together they started pushing it through the empty hanger. Ahsoka and Cody fell into line behind them, the five of them beginning the journey to the medbay.

Ahsoka took the chance to look around, even as she adjusted the fall of her cowl around her face. It may be only clones onboard the ship, but she had not spent the past several years protecting her identity without becoming overly cautious.

There were several other freighters and fighter ships spread throughout the hanger. She sensed the Force signatures of brothers, dozens of them scattered around. She tried to find them out of the corner of her eyes, but either they were hidden by the others ships or they were simply out of sight.

Ahsoka closed her eyes regardless, overwhelmed by the sheer familiarity of it all. Here she was on a Republic Venator, Cody at her side with Rex and Echo just up ahead, hundreds of clones on the same ship as they all prepared for whatever fight they might next find themselves in. If not for her years of practice, Ahsoka may have found herself in tears. As it were, it was hard enough to release the lump of emotion in her chest.

“How many clones have joined you? The Force… there’s just so many of you. Is the Venator full?”

Cody glanced over at her, helmet still tucked under his arm. “Not only this Venator, Commander. We have five, each one nearing capacity. We’ve been meaning to track down a few more.”

“Five?” Ahsoka breathed, nearly tripping over air. “That’s… That’s over thirty thousand clones.”

Cody shook his head. “It’s not nearly enough. We used to number in the millions. And now, well, we can barely fill five Venators.”

“Cody, before today, I thought there were only three of you left. This is… This is amazing.” She chuckled, shaking her head ever so slightly and sending her lekku back and forth. Her cloak fluttered open as she walked, her lightsabers obviously on display at her hips. She didn’t bother pulling the fabric back into place; the ‘sabers would be a sure sign to any questioning brother as to who—what—she was.

“Well, when you put it that way. I suppose you have a point.” Cody sighed. “I’ve grown used to believing it’s not enough. How can it be enough when so many—brothers and natborns alike—are still enslaved under Palpatine?”

Ahsoka looked away, staring at Rex on the stretcher just feet away from her. “You can’t expect all of this weight to be on your shoulders alone, Cody.”

“It’s not just him alone,” Bly called back. “Fox and I bullied him into sharing.”

Cody rolled his eyes, faint smile on his face. Ahsoka kept watching her out of the side of her eyes. He’s just like Obi-Wan. Carrying the fate of the world in his hands simply because no one else is. At least he has his brothers to help him now. I dread to think about what could have happened had he been on his own. I doubt he could survive that burden. Master Obi-Wan likely couldn’t have, not after so long.

The itch at the back of her eyes was back, burning tears that she would not let fall. Force. She missed her masters so much. Life had never been so easy as when she had Obi-Wan and Anakin to lean on, when she did not have to be strong and collected at all times.

It only took a few more minutes before they reached the medbay, and Ahsoka was content to remain in her own thoughts for the time. They passed a few brothers in the halls, each one doing a complete doubletake when they clocked the familiar metal hilts hanging from her belt. She ducked her head, cowl covering her face in shadow. 

She and Cody needed to discuss everything first, what his plans were and how she could fit into them. But she couldn’t wait until she could reveal herself to them, until she could show the clones that she survived, that one Jedi was alive, that she did not blame them for what happened and never would.

Echo shoved open the door to the medbay. “All right, Kix, injured brother, coming in hot.” Ahsoka blinked at the name, but there was no time to react.

The so-familiar medic rushed forward, slight scowl splashed across his features. Even without his Force signature, Ahsoka would have recognized that tattoo anywhere. “What happened? I thought it was only the three of you going down there!” Kix stopped by Rex’s side, frowning down at the unconscious man. “He hasn’t gotten the remedy yet. Is he new to the cause?”

“We’ll discuss it after you’ve helped him.” Cody crossed his arms. “His ship was shot down. Hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Give him the remedy while you’re at it, yeah?”

Kix rested his weight in one hip, eyebrow raised at the Commander. “I’m not going to give it to him without getting his consent first.”

Ahsoka leaned toward Cody. “What remedy are we talking about?”

Cody shifted near to her in return. “Targets our genes. Cancels out the accelerated aging. It’s why we don’t look as old as he does.”

Ahsoka snorted. “I’m telling you he said that.” Then she looked back at Kix and Rex. “Give him the vaccine. Kix. He’s giving me permission to make medical decisions for him, so don’t worry about his consent.”

Kix turned his attention to her, frowning when he couldn’t make out her face under the cowl. “Who are you? And who’s this?”

Ahsoka smiled. Instead of answering, she unclipped Rex’s helmet which still hung from her belt. She stepped forward, placing his helmet next to him on the hover-stretcher.

Kix froze, staring at the markings on the helmet. He looked between the helmet and Ahsoka, the helmet and Rex, Ahsoka and Rex. “Commander Tano?” He stuttered out.

She tugged the hood of her cloak back, fabric sliding off her montrals and pooling around her shoulders. “Hello, Kix.”

A breathless laugh escaped him, and Kix shook his head in wonder. He looked down again, placing a steady hand on Rex’s chest plate. Rex’s eyes fluttered as his head lolled to the side. Kix watched his old captain for a moment longer before he pushed himself into action.

“Any internal injuries? Medical conditions I should know about?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I don’t think so, he didn’t react much when we moved him. I think he has a concussion, but I’m not sure about anything else.” Ahsoka crossed her arms. “I removed his chip the same day as the Order.“

Cody’s signature sharpened as he turned his attention to her. He didn’t speak, but Ahsoka could feel his thoughts racing.

Echo wasn’t as controlled. “He told us he got his chip out,” he said, “but he never said you were the one to do it.”

“Us?” Ahsoka frowned. “I wasn’t aware you knew he survived the Order.” Bly was giving Echo a similar look of confusion.

Echo shrugged, shifting slightly. “Long story, Commanders. He’s the reason I got my chip out. How did you learn about them? I didn’t think it was common knowledge back then at least.”

She smiled softly. “Rex resisted the chip for a moment, just long enough to… He told me to find Fives.” Echo sucked in a breath, face melting in an expression of grief that matched Ahsoka’s feelings whenever she thought of the ARC trooper. “I found the files. Fives saved my life that day, and Rex’s.” She turned back to Kix, the medic already running a scanner over Rex’s prone form. “I couldn’t save Jesse. I couldn’t save any of them.”

Kix shook his head, peering at the screen. “You got out alive, Commander. That’s what important. Jesse would never blame you for that. They’d all be glad to know you’re okay.”

Ahsoka ducked her head, heart thundering painfully in her chest. “And I’m glad you are as well.”

“We’ll have time for this later.” Cody crossed his arms. All Ahsoka could see was Master Obi-Wan and Cody standing before the holo-table. “Kix, take care of the captain. Bly, Echo, get Helix or one of the other medics to check you over. Commander Tano, you as well.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Cody. I was hoping we could talk, actually, seeing as our meeting got cut short.”

Cody raised his eyebrow. “You’re not leaving this ship until Rex is better. We have time, Commander. Let Helix or Kix check you over, then just relax, huh? We can talk in the morning.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t become Fulcrum by delaying, Commander.”

“Well, Commander, as I’m sure the medics will tell you, taking a break once in a while is good for you.” Then he turned, fitting his helmet back into place as he left the medbay.

Ahsoka scowled at his back. “They always have to get the last word,” she grumbled, arms crossing over her chest tightly once more.

Echo smirked, leaning his hip against one of the cots. “They always do,” he agreed. Neither had to explain who else came to mind beside Cody.

Kix was preoccupied with Rex, muttering quietly to himself as he pushed the hover-stretcher into an empty berth along the wall. Bly disappeared, either escaping the medbay or finding a different medic to check him over. Ahsoka stepped to Echo’s side, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Well, it seems like we’re stuck here for the time being. How about you fill me in on everything I’ve missed? I didn’t even know… I mean, I had no idea you survived the Citadel.”

Echo exhaled shakily. “Yeah, it’s… it’s a long story. Come on, we can wait for Kix to be done.”

“There’s plenty of more medics onboard this ship then just me,” Kix said over his shoulder.

“But how many of them know how Togruta biology works?” Ahsoka shot back. Echo snorted, leading her over to an empty cot next to Rex. Both of them sat, watching the medic work. For a brief, fantastical moment, Ahsoka was back on the Resolute, waiting with members of Torrent to see if Rex would be okay after a difficult campaign. He always was. She wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

Echo stretched his legs out with a grunt, as well as what sounded suspiciously like the creak of metal. “All right, Commander, where should I start?”

“You should start by calling me Ahsoka.” She pulled her legs up onto the cot, folding them in a comfortable half-lotus. She grinned at Echo as he chuckled at her. Her eyes continued to burn. Something about being here, on a Venator, with her men, clones of the 501st… it made it easy to slip back into how she had once been, snarky and light and so completely open. She was finding it hard to shut down her connection with the Force; how could she after so long of not being surrounded by the warm lights of the clones, of her brothers and sisters?“All right, Ahsoka,” Echo rephrased. “What do you know about what happened after you left the Jedi?”

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Always Him : Chapter 39

Word Count : 1.3k

Warnings : swearing, brief sex scene, arguing, angsty

            So many memories flooded her brain as she walked to the house she used to live in. The house where she met Hongjoong and later fell in love with him. The house Kayla and Seonghwa fell in love with each other in. Where the group would gather for game nights and pre drinking before clubbing. This path was one she walked with Hongjoong many times. When he would pick her up from class or after dates he claimed weren’t dates. Holding hands with their arms swinging back and forth. To anyone else they would have looked like any other couple, but they weren’t. They never were.

            Now she walked the path alone, his words echoing in her mind. I’m fucking in love with you. You’re the one. The ONLY one. But memories of him denying her, saying she was just a friend, flashed in her brain. She paused as she noticed the house coming into view, wondering if she was making the right decision. Why now? She continued to ask herself. Why after she finally let go and started dating someone else did he say the words she so desperately wanted to hear?

            She knew in her heart that going to see him was a mistake, but she needed to see him. She needed to hear him say those words, see his face when he said them. Because she couldn’t believe him otherwise. She needed closure, she deserved closure after everything he put her through. So she walks the path alone, holding back her tears, and takes a deep breath before climbing the stairs towards the door.

            Hongjoong opened the door before she could ring the doorbell, pulling her into his arms immediately. But her arms stayed by her side. She didn’t bury her face in his chest like she used to. Or wrap her arms around him tighter than his around her. She stood there motionless. “I missed you, Y/n.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. But she didn’t say anything. She stayed silent, letting Hongjoong get his fill.

            “Let go. Please.” She begged, feeling her resolve fading with each second. He pulled away from her and looked at her, seeing her unamused face, seeing the tears she wanted so badly to blink back. And he came to the realization that she didn’t come to work things out with him. She wasn’t here to get back together with him; she was here for closure and he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to let go.

            “Baby girl.” She shook her head before he could continue.

            “Don’t call me that. You don’t have the right to call me that anymore.”

            “Why the fuck did you come here if not to get back together?” He was steadily raising his voice. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, tears brimming. This was not the closure she wanted. She didn’t want a fight.

            “Hongjoong.” He flinched at the sound of his name coming from her lips. The way it sounded like a curse broke his heart. “I’m dating Yeosang and I’m not going to break up with him just because you had this preconceived notion that I would wait around until you were ready to admit your feelings.”

            “You love me.” He countered, unable to think of anything else to say.

            “I loved you. I don’t anymore.” She lied. The love she had for him isn’t a love that would just disappear just because he’s hurt her over and over. She was used to the pain he put her through, used to the heartbreak, and the sneaking around. Used to him whispering words of love into her ear just to scream to the world she was just a friend. She was used to it all and loved him anyway.

            But she deserves more. More than someone who pulls her in just to push her away seconds later. More than someone who could only love her in secret. She deserves Yeosang. Someone who treats her completely different than Hongjoong did. He pulls her in and holds her tightly. He isn’t afraid to tell the world she’s his. So why does she still want Hongjoong?

            “I’m fixing myself for you! I’m doing everything to be better for you!”

            “Well you should have thought of that before!” The more he raised his voice the more she raised hers to match. It was becoming clearer to him now that she was not the same girl he first met. He hurt her over and over to the point that she built walls around her. Unbreakable walls. Walls even he couldn’t penetrate. “I waited for you but you were never ready. I was willing to wait years for you because I loved you that much. You ended things with me, remember that.”

            “Because I wanted to fix myself before coming back to you! I wanted to work through the hurt I had before you.” His voice got quieter as he thought about his ex. “I dated someone before you and she made me not want to fall in love ever again. But then you came along and I fell for you before I could stop myself.”

            “What a fucking cop out.” She scoffed.

            “It’s not. It’s the truth. Should we ask Seonghwa?” He pointed upstairs, cocking his head to the side.

            “Fine.” She followed Hongjoong to Seonghwa’s room. “Still a cop out answer.” She mumbled under her breath as they walked up the stairs. She too had been hurt before meeting Hongjoong. But he took the hurt and made it better. She was afraid at first. Afraid that he would turn out exactly like Jeongin.

            “Seonghwa I need you to tell Y/n about my ex – OH MY GOD!!!” Hongjoong immediately turned away after entering the room. Seonghwa was fucking Kayla from behind, hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her to look in the mirror to watch what he was doing to her.

            “Damn. Get it mommy.” Y/n giggled. Seonghwa was still thrusting into her.

            “I’m trying.” Kayla replied.

            “Get the fuck out.” Seonghwa said before pressing his lips to her shoulder, sucking her skin to leave a mark. Y/n nodded and told them to have fun before closing the door. “Never knew she was so kinky.” Y/n joked as her and Hongjoong went back downstairs.

            “Can we please go back to talking about us and not what your best friend is into in the bedroom?”

            “Hongjoong there is no us. I told you that already.”

            “So you’d rather talk about what Kayla is into than fix us? What kind of fucking bullshit is that? You came all this way for what? Some stupid ass closure. Do you think you’re in a movie or something? Life doesn’t work like that Y/n.”

            “Why are you being an asshole right now?” Silence fell over them as Hongjoong stared at her, unsure of what to say. He didn’t have an answer. “I wish I could go back to the day we met.” He stepped closer to her, reaching out to cup her face, wipe away the tears that were beginning to fall.

            “Me too. I would do everything right if I had a second chance. I would never hurt you. I would love you properly from day one.” She pulled away from him, shaking her head with a look of disgust in her eyes.

            “I wish I could go back to the day we met so I could turn around and never meet you.” She turned away from him and left, promising herself she would never go back to Hongjoong. Walking down the same path filled with memories that once made her happy. Memories that now made her angry. Why was she so in love with him? She doesn’t remember him being like this before. Too blinded by love. The rose coloured glasses have fallen and she can see him for who he really is. The one that causes her pain.

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[skylarstark4826]

There had been nearly too much footage to ever be watched, but time, as it was, worked differently in the TVA. Loki leaned heavily over the little desk he had laid claim to, however long ago it had been. Alone in the theatre room, the harsh overhead lights fading to red at the edge of his vision. One hand fiddled with the controls, the other rested under his chin, long fingers tapping slowly on his cheek.

All of it blurred together, so many variations of himself, different in so many ways and all the same in many others. Timelines that grew and were forgotten, pruned and shaped back into submission. When he’d seen his fill of failures and alleged crimes against the timeline, he assumed he had started the entire collection over again.

Loki rubbed at his eyes, the red light starting to become a headache, when a sharp change of scenery in the footage cleared his mind.

The palace of Asgard, in all of its glory. Bright and bitter to his senses. The lead Loki in this production stood in one of the many alcoves in one of the many hallways. This was not entirely unusual, Loki thought, as he watched himself lean around the gilded pillar and spare a glance in each direction. He turned back to the alcove, shielding something from view, and this was where it began to be interesting.

That something, was a someone. Smaller than him and easily hidden. Standing close, with hands held like a bowl before her, was Jane Foster. Loki drew closer to the image, leaning nearly out of the chair. Dressed in borrowed finery, the jewels and silver threads paled in comparison to the brilliance of the smile on her face. This Loki’s hands curled around hers, and the soft green glow of his magic wove between them, and in the center of her palms a tiny galaxy sprang forth. The stars and planets spinning wildly.

“How?” Jane breathed, her eyes barely leaving the uncharted glimpse of sky long enough to look for Loki’s.

“It’s only magic, Jane.” Was his reply, the expected bite in his voice nowhere to be heard. The words rounded into softness in this hidden moment.

A loud chorus of laughter from somewhere else, broke the spell of their strange moment together. Jane moved her hands apart and the illusion unraveled. Grabbing Loki’s hands, she used them to pull herself to her full tip toe height. Kissing him quickly. On his cheek, but so near to the corner of his mouth that had the other Loki turned his head just a heartbeat faster than he did, the kiss would have landed true. She steps back from him, and with a last look over her shoulder, mouths “later,” and hurries off. The Loki she left places a hand over his heart and bows only a little before straightening to watch her go. He blinks out of view, and Loki lets the reel come to a complete stop, paused on the empty alcove.

“Well. That wasn’t there before.”

Loki, trapped in the mess of this place around him, watched just one more time. Delighted by the novelty of the scene before him now that he is no longer caught by surprise. If time indeed worked differently here, then certainly there was no harm in watching again.

He tries starting it a third time, before the lights cut out and the loud hum of power returning rattles his skull.

The ringing in his ears fades.

He didn’t find her. Loki’s keen eyes hadn’t seen her, ignoring the shouting and the blur of a portal always just behind and in front of him. He had hoped, and he had jumped, and ran and argued and fought. Trapped, alone with his thoughts was almost as harsh of a punishment than any of the collars that had been put on him. At least this time they had left him his voice. He closed his eyes and tried to remember anything at all from the time before, of the Other and the great machine he had commanded before that. About her.

The great lengths that were taken to heal her, and the feel of her anger when she finally looked upon him. She struck him, and he tried to make his reply as sinister as possible, but he knew the laughter in his eyes betrayed him. She saw it, looking carefully at every inch of his face as the others talked around them. For better or for worse Loki liked her. He stared just as intensely, right until they had to move, and the gravity of the situation shook them from their secret moment. Not for the first time he wondered how his fate would have changed if so many things had simply gone according to his designs. Everything hurt, and he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes until they watered and he had to blink back the red sparks that filled his vision.

An idea came to him, and Loki scolded himself for not thinking of it sooner. It may involve begging, no, asking nicely. He could easily conjure up an air of remorse believable enough to grant him access back to the theatre. He made far worse plans that had worked. Hadn’t he? Loki called out for Mobius, and began pleading his case the moment the other man finally opened the locked door.

“But one more look? What harm can be done now, surely, with you as my constant shadow?”

“You know I’m starting to think you’ve mistaken my kindness for stupidity.”

“I did slip away so very easily, twice.”

“Not making a good argument for another lookie loo. Come on Loki, what are you getting at here?”

Loki clenched his hands into fists before slowly unfurling his fingers, he tapped his hands against the table once before turning his palms upward, no more tricks, the gesture said.

Hopefully. “There’s a woman-“ He began.

“Oh there’s a woman now.” Mobius interrupts, pulling at the cuffs of his suit jacket.

“-And she appears on one of the recordings and none of the others. If I could only just,” He cuts himself off, the laughter from across the table worsening his already sour mood. “This is humorous to you?”

“Hilarious actually. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around this new story you’ve given me. I’ve read your file, there’s no mystery woman Loki. You’re so focused on getting back out, you still can’t see the forest for the trees.”

“I have seen more than you ever will in your pathetic lifetime! Locked away in here at the beck and call of what? Some higher power?” Loki snarls, the pleasant, asking for another chance act burned away quickly by the heat of his temper.

“Hate to repeat myself, but you’re in here too pal. So what’s the move now Loki?” He leans against the wall next to Loki’s chair, and put his hands in his pockets.

Loki runs both hands through his hair, taking a deep breath he turns to look at Mobius, one arm draped across the back of the chair. His expression is tight and closed off, while the other man just smiles back, unbothered it seems by the whole situation.

“If this is something you haven’t seen, perhaps there is a file on the woman herself yes?” He asks, still frustrated but still working on a plan, trying to stay two steps ahead as he usually was. Had always tended to be at least. “What I saw must be somewhere. The TVA seems very fond of records.”

“What good would it do? Won’t change why you’re here. Heck, if it’s going to put you in more of a bad mood I definitely don’t want you to see it.” Mobius laughs under his breath waving a hand in Loki’s direction. He adjusts his tie, red fabric dark enough to be brown and Loki holds his next arguing point to stare at it. The color pulls at something in his memory and he looks around the room, searching for something when he hears his name, repeated, but the sound is too far away to be clear.

Mobius pulls the tempad from a coat pocket and Loki reaches for it without a second thought. He fumbles in his haste to set a location into the stolen, borrowed really, infernal device. Every time he landed somewhere new they were on his trail half a second later. He thought of Jane, the answers to a question he had never thought to ask calling him forward. If he could only move faster, outrun and outwit he could learn them all. He needed to have them all.

The device obeyed him and produced the glowing red pathway to his destination. In his haste he stepped through before his mind caught up with the warning that the portal had been wrong. The TVA portals were orange.

There had been nearly too much footage to ever be watched, but time, as it was, worked differently in the TVA. Loki leaned heavily over the little desk he had laid claim to, however long ago it had been. One hand fiddled with the controls, the other held up his chin, fingers tapping on his cheek. It was maddening, repetitive in a way that felt almost…

He straightened himself quickly and twisted his long body around in the chair. He had been here already. A woman’s name came to his mind, and he lurched forward away from the desk in an embarrassing tangle of limbs and table. He could fuss about his wounded vanity later, he needed to find her file, all of her records. If he could just see again what he had glimpsed for a moment. It was so at odds with everything else, he had to get his hands on it, get control of it and pluck the answers out as swiftly as he could.

He will go to Heimdall and demand he, no, no that isn’t right. He could force Selvig to, and Loki shakes his head. No, that isn’t it either. His memory tying itself into knots over where he is and which one is he, really?

Loki steps forward and he is face to face with her, as much as he can be, standing over her as she bends her knees slightly, hand outstretched into an open space within a massive, dark tower, reaching for something. The sky is dark, whatever she seeks is pulsing with light, out of place in this ruined place. It is alone.

“Jane Foster.” He exhaled, surprise and fear stealing his voice away in full.

She turned her head the opposite way of his voice, still moving to reach the hidden thing. What was this? A sharp pain in his head had him seeing the flashing red lights again and it swarmed behind his eyes. Loki regained his wits, he did know of this place even if he didn’t fully know this moment. He had listened with a detached curiosity to the clumsy retelling from Thor, more focused on what could be done with it now that it had been brought to Asgard. Yes, of course, it couldn’t be more clear, now that he was here and it was within his grasp. She was within his grasp.

“Jane Foster!” He called again with remembered strength.

She finally turned towards him, her expression frightened, and then confused. At the same time their eyes met she must have made contact with what she had been reaching for. Her eyes widened and he watched her body almost fold completely into itself, a fragile, mortal creature. A fine red mist wrapped around her arm. A page from a lost story book, he remembered clearly now, and he stood frozen, as a blinding flash of something older than magic enveloped them both.

The desk, the footage, the flickering lights and the horrid little chair he was told to stay in. He stood quickly, with more grace than the last time and took two quick steps in a direction decided on only in this moment. He had no device but still he stepped through something, and into the same place as before. She was there again, nothing changed, still reaching for the aether. The rush of adrenaline in his body carried him forward, seeking to pull her away before she could be infected.

“Jane stop!” He grabbed her shoulders and she twisted awkwardly in his tight grip.

“What-“ She began, a look of recognition flashing in her eyes before the pain pulled her features into something terrible. The second, or thousandth time her hand strays close enough to be ensnared. The fine red mist shrouding her, but this time it covered Loki as well. His vision narrowed into darkness before expanding to the cosmos. His stomach churned and he feared that he had been lost once more, falling endlessly through the nothingness that connects everything and all time.

It feels like waking up, awareness filling his body once again. He is lying on his back, and he knows his head is next to hers as she lay the opposite way. Two hands on a clock that has long since stopped spinning. Close enough to touch, Loki can feel her presence more solidly than the fine strands of hair that tickle his ear. A small breeze with no beginning or end, passing over them.

“Could you have loved me? If it had been you first, instead.” She says plainly and with such ease that it is jarring against the void above and below them. Or perhaps his eyes are closed, he can’t remember either way.

“They way Thor did?” He asks with only a little anger behind it. His brother’s feelings were easy to manipulate, that woman he had yelled, goading him into another fight. He had succeeded, but lost it all just as swiftly. The chill of the building Bifrost on that day creeps along his fingers, and then fades with the memory.

“No. Not like that. In your way.” Jane replies, same matter of fact tone.

“I don’t suppose I know what way that would be,” He pauses, “but you didn’t love him in the end, so what does it matter?”

Loki was tired. Heavy with the weight of so many memories, and places he needed to be, and things to do. How close was he to being swept up again by the changing reality around him? What could a little honesty hurt, when it could all be lost in the blink of an eye. When you were regarded as the God of Lies it was important to understand the worth of small truths, here and there.

“It’s not the same though. It’s the difference in the way I love a song and the way I love the stars.” She must have shaken her head, more of her hair brushing against him softly. “Thor didn’t love me he loved the idea of me and that’s different. You even said something like that once, don’t you remember?”

“I remember many things but not every mean spirited response I’ve given.”

Jane laughs, and it is loud and lovely to his ears. “Who knows, really, maybe I wouldn’t have loved you either.”

Loki was strangely at a loss for words. He didn’t know why he would have any interest in where the affections of a mortal found purchase, but it was the greater strangeness of what he had seen that urged him to speak through his hesitation.

“Would it have truly mattered?” He asked again, “I know you to be considered highly intelligent for your realm,” at this she scoffed but he continued, “Why do you ask this of me? Do you believe you could have changed me the way that you changed him?”

“Thor changed himself and no I don’t believe I could have changed you either. I’m only asking a reasonable question considering our circumstances.” She answered him again so readily, so passionately, like she had had the time to think about this in the same way she seemed to consider all things. Himself included.

“Which are?”

Jane reaches up and brushes the crown of his head with the back of her fingers, softly curling the dark strands through them. “Am I dead? You feel so real. I dreamed about you and now we’re here but it doesn’t feel like the right order you know? Everything feels different, my mind feels different.”

Without thinking too far ahead, he brings a hand above his head, not to stop her, but to see if she too feels real. His fingertips warm as he touches hers. Loki doesn’t take her hand in his, only lingers alongside it. Slow, tiny movements keeping them connected and then drifting apart. So small and delicate next to his. Even though he has seen the little marvels she had created with them. Felt their strength when she slapped him. Fragile mortal hands, on a woman he had, almost, given his life to save. Is that one of the things she remembers? She hasn’t moved to assault him, again, maybe luck is on his side and she recalls him fondly. Enough so to be thinking about him, at least, reaching out for him in the same curious way he reaches out for her.

He thinks of the TVA and smiles, “I do know, yes.” There is a weightlessness in this place that seems so far away from anything else. They could be on the furthest branches of Yggdrasil, a haven tucked away where no one would think to look, or some new, unexplored place altogether. He turns his head towards her, remembers to open his eyes, and sees her face. Bright, illuminated with a warm light that makes her eyes shine. Brown hair shimmering with a soft red glow.

“What did you dream Jane Foster?”

She tells him. In her clear, bright voice, a story of another Jane and another Loki. It began with a storm, instead of thunder it had been a freezing wind, and her hitting a long dark shadow that fell from the sky with her beaten up van.

Do me a favor and don’t be dead.

The tall man with raven hair, yelling names and curses at the sky. Reserved and prickly, he didn’t say much at first and Jane had called it ‘moping’. He followed her around town, glaring and muttering under his breath like a child would. When Jane confronted him about it, he stared at her in genuine surprise, as if it was the first time anyone had ever called him to task on his behavior. After that he disappeared and then came SHIELD. When he finally came back he took one look at her, furious and pacing, and he proposed something wild. She followed him into the desert, watched him sneak into restricted areas and waited as long as she could for him to come out. She had to leave or else she’d be caught too. Spying on a top secret base wasn’t going to look so good after her heated words with the agents at her lab. Jane hoped he would make it back out.

Loki eventually found her on the roof, looking mildly worse for wear, but he presented her the stolen notebook without his usual snide commentary. She threw her arms around him and his body locked up so tightly, mechanically raising a hand to pat her awkwardly on the back before she took pity on him and let go. Pulling him into the chair next to her, Jane opened the well loved pages and showed him exactly what he returned to her. He laughed at the drawings and equations she showed him from her work on the Einstein Rosen Bridge, and then corrected her with the thin patience of an elder conversing with an excitable student. She reached over and punched him softly on the arm, and Loki pulled her chair closer to his. Bifrost, he said, nearly losing Jane with the word magics, but then he began to talk about the stars. The realms, and the pathways, science she said and it was his turn to laugh. Time spent here was going well for Loki, he was beginning to enjoy this hot, barren place until the day a loud banging on the glass walls of Jane’s laboratory heralded the arrival of Thor.

Thor and his easy, natural charm and Jane’s flustered laugh in response to his introductions. The test of keeping himself calm and collected was a heavier burden than the arrival of the Destroyer. A trial from the Allfather, she told him now, another flash of red light before his eyes and Jane’s voice fell away. Gradually coming back along with his sight.

“We keep being pulled together. Like planets in orbit. Or moons.” Jane held a well worn notebook in her lap, carefully adjusting the telescope she was looking through.

“Moons.” He repeats back to her, deadpan. Looking around for a clue to where they were this time, but it was only Midgard’s stars, and the cooling concrete underneath him. It could have been anywhere.

“Yeah but which one of us has the bigger gravitational pull?” She continues on, unbothered with his tone, it was second nature for him to whine and needle her and it was familiar. Comfortable, when so much had stopped being so. He was still here, pulled along just as she was.

“Surely you don’t think yourself as important as a God.” He snickers, “you should be kneeling, you were born to kneel.” The words would have seemed cruel, if he hadn’t been lying with his arms crossed beneath his head, feet crossed at the ankles. Looking for all the world to be asleep.

“Well your ego is definitely big enough for its own gravitational pull.” She fires back, looking down to her notebook and then back to the telescope. “Okay here we go!”

When Loki opened his eyes nothing happened. All was calm. Then, a light fell across the sky. Red tail trailing behind it like fire. The stars were always visible in Asgard, and at any time he could see whichever of them he liked. He dimly remembers Jane seeing them once, and it had been a petty thing to hold his knowledge over her but the sparks of curiosity in her eyes, so many questions that she wanted answered stayed with him. After all this time. The satisfaction of seeing her realize that he, and not Thor had the answers, was an unexpected boon in the chaos of her shocking arrival.

Red light danced over Jane sitting still as a statue, she closed her eyes and tipped her face towards the light as if it were the same sun she was familiar with.

The second story she told was stranger than the first and Loki listened just as intently. She should have been a Norn the way she spun her tale, each one stretching reality as he knew it into something wild and unknown and he held on to every word. Loki would have been closer to her then, for far longer than this short time.

“This is so stupid.” This Jane said for the hundredth time, climbing down the steep walls of the impact crater. “I’m going to die for science. That’s it, that’s my whole life isn’t it?”

She only had a small window of time between “the event” as she was calling it, and the men in suits that would soon start crawling all over the place. Something fell in the middle of the desert, and she was going to see it first, document it and lay claim to its study, and probably not die from exposure or get a concussion from losing her footing. When she finally made it to the center, camera in hand she snapped a picture of…a hammer. A hammer? This was a joke, someone had been her before her and left this instead of whatever extraterrestrial artifact had landed. There were patterns in the dirt, no footprints except hers, nothing at all to explain what was in front of her. Jane took pictures, walked around the ridiculously large item of unknown origins a few more times trying to rationalize what she was seeing.

“I’ve come this far right?” She said aloud. Shaking her head she reached out and wrapped her hand around the handle. The sound of thunder swept through the desert and over Jane. She lifted it so easily, and moving by instinct she held it high over head, pointing to the stars and beyond.

Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor

“The Mighty Thor.” She said a little wistfully, “I could fly and everything.”

Loki laughed softly underneath his breath, he would have enjoyed seeing that. He tried to imagine her in plated armor with winged helm sparkling in the flashes of lightning she would wield. A sweep of red cape behind her. Selfless, radiant, glorious.

The third story she told, was considerably more familiar to him. Another Jane, at another desk, and seemingly too much footage to ever be watched. Her nexus event had been ripping a hole straight through the sacred timeline with a machine built far away from the eyes of SHIELD. Going farther than any of the places she knew of from her time with Thor, with the Aesir, and the dark Elves.

“It was awesome. I kind of, maybe miscalculated the power output though.” She’d added, the smile in her voice infectious. Loki also would have liked to see the buzzing of the TVA agents as she committed her time crimes, but then he remembered the judge’s room, the pruning sticks, and he brushed his fingers against hers intentionally as she continued, unbothered by what could have happened. He hoped they hadn’t reached that point of the lecture during her stay.

Something happened, Jane didn’t know what, and she was led to the archives and told to stay put. She waited for what she guessed to be ten minutes and then snuck into an empty time theatre and watched everything she could. So many possibilities, the theory of a multiverse playing out right before her eyes! Records upon records of proof! She desperately tried to commit them all to memory, the beautiful and the ugly, even the plain and unsatisfying lives. One hand fiddled with the controls and the other covered a yawn, when something flashed across the screen that had definitely not come up before.

It was Asgard, inside of the palace sometime before, well, everything. It hurt Jane’s heart to see it bright and shining. She saw herself in the gifted Asgardian clothing, skirts held high as she ran down one of many long hallways. Quick as a snake a hand reached out from the shadows. It caught her arm, and pulled her into an alcove. Jane watched the unfamiliar scene with a flutter of anticipation building in her chest, this one seemed happy, the other Jane looked untroubled. This definitely didn’t happen while she was there.

The hand it turned out, belonged to Loki, not Thor, and Jane watched herself be pulled further into a corner with his lean body keeping her out of view.

“Running through the blessed halls Lady Jane?” He asked with a disapproving tone that didn’t match the happiness in his eyes at the thought of her doing just that.

“Trying to scare me Loki?” This Jane tried to frown but couldn’t hold it long enough to even finish the question.

He took one of her hands in his larger one and brought it to his lips to brush them against her knuckles. Lowering it just enough to murmur, “Did it work?” And she slipped out of his grip easily.

“Hardly. I followed the directions on the note but this isn’t the library.” She let Loki take both of her hands this second time and arrange them to make a bowl held in front of her.

He stepped backwards to look around a gilded pillar before turning his attention back to the Jane standing with him. This Loki, the one she didn’t know, curled his hands around hers, and the soft green glow of his magic wove between them. In the bowl of her palms a tiny galaxy sprung forth. The stars and planets spinning wildly.

“How?” She breathed, her eyes barely leaving the uncharted expanse before her to look for Loki’s. As Jane watched, she was just as taken in as the variant of her, she had seen many strange and unfortunately unexplainable things, but the simply beauty of what Loki was creating for her was unmatched.

“It’s only magic, Jane.” The familiar bite to his words softened in this hidden moment.

A loud of chorus of laughter from outside their view broke the strange moment. Jane pulled her hands apart and the illusion unraveled. Grabbing Loki’s hands she used them to pull herself up to her full tip toe height. Quickly she kissed him. On his cheek, but so near to the corner of his mouth that had he turned his head a heartbeat faster than he did, the two would have kissed true.

She pulled away and with a last look over her shoulder, mouthed “later” to him and hurried off once again, this time leaving her skirts to twirl across the floor around her slippered feet. Loki placed his hand over his heart and bowed only a little before straightening to watch her go. He blinked out of view and Jane stopped the footage.

She stood to find that Mobius guy for answers but when she took that first step away from the desk the TVA disappeared all around her, and she was back in the darkness. Reaching out into that open space within the tower, and if she could just get closer to that something, hidden inside she could get home. Home? She had to get back to the TVA didn’t she?

The sound of her name being spoken from nowhere, fuzzy and far away. The fog of distant memories creeping in and blurring her focus. Too many times to keep count the aether took hold of her, many times it led back to Earth, back into Thor’s arms and carried away in a great peal of thunder to the rest of the story she knew best. Mostly knew. The variables however, in all of her known equations were always a Loki. She heard his voice first, and eventually saw his face, and sometimes he tried reaching for her, the look of wild desperation on his face achingly familiar. After an eternity of being consumed by the monstrous force it, alone, the red creeping through every cell in her body, he finally made it to her. It consumed them both.

The longer Jane spoke the more tightly woven their fingers became. Laced together in the small space between them. Even as their stories became tangled and picked apart in the breaths it took to dream them in this strange place, with the memory of red just at the edge of her and Loki’s awareness.

“Tell me what you saw.” Jane said softly and it was more of a question.

Strange circumstances she had said then asked one of the most absurd questions he had ever heard. Could he have loved her?

He started with the TVA, more or less, and the same stolen scrap of quiet they had both seen in the palace halls. He told her of a chance first meeting at a place near the edge of the universe. A time he had cradled her in his arms, traveling one of his hidden pathways as he brought her to be healed in the blessed realm. Sent by Thor and chafing against his brother’s orders as he continued to serve penance for actions he was not wholly responsible for. Of a Jane that rivaled him in cruel pettiness, and in the end their hatred for each other almost destroyed them both. He was wretched and she was wrathful, and it was a glorious trail of fire left in their wake. She was quiet after the last story, wiping away the tears that had fallen. Jane tightened her grip on his hand, saying nothing.

There was perhaps a seed. A seed of something that could possibly grow into love, or at least what Loki thought might be love. He held devotion, and longing, enough times over the long years. Grasped them both firmly and held them deeply enough in his heart that when it inevitably cracked and shattered the pain was something he could bury swiftly. Even if the pieces cut his fingers before the task was finished.

When he took more than a dismissive, passing look at Jane, added it to what he knew and what he had seen, maybe it was less of a seed and more of a spark. A bite of something that wasn’t fire, but even frost could burn swift and fierce. He hadn’t dreamt in the way Jane had, but he saw many flashes, fragments of growth into a different ending. It was near enough to the way the visions from the tesseract had dug into his mind that the discomfort of seeing too much at once, was pushed aside and he focused only on what he wanted to see.

“Who knew I would finally be able to see the universe and all it took was getting cursed. Or dying. I still think that’s a possibility.”

Loki made a choice, he might not have a right answer for her yet, but he had at least, an answer that felt like it could be true.

“Jane Foster I would tear the skies apart and rebuild the universe so that it could be made with the sole purpose of being seen by your eyes.” The words were heavy, and they startle her so much that she laughs.

She slaps a hand over her mouth to cover the sound, her shoulders shaking. After she calms herself down she untangles their joined fingers and pushes his soft hair back from his forehead.

His face twists into something like a pout, if it were anyone else, and he looks so much younger.

She feels so much lighter. How long had it been? In and out of time, and they still hadn’t settled on which one belonged where and when, but it seemed that now at least that this Loki belonged with this Jane. Even if it was only once, it could be enough. After all, what’s one more set of collapsing stars at the end of everything?

“I just asked if you could have loved me,” she laughed again, “most people would have just said yes or no!”

“Is that what you want to hear?” He reaches out to touch her lips with his long fingers, they were still lying next to one another, looking at the other from opposite directions. “I thought you knew better than to trust such a simple answer.” He pushes against her skin gently, pulling her lips apart as he drags his fingers down her chin and across her neck. Feeling her swallow whatever reply she had ready, keeping his hand there he can feel the soft flutter of her heartbeat.

“I would have liked that. My own stars.” Jane says, and she remembers the first dream, and how she kissed him, and she feels a sharp tug in her chest that tells her she wants to again.

“I would have liked the chance to give them to you.” Loki answers, and it also sounded true. He remembered as well, the dreamy, shared pathway that led them both through the twisting powers of the aether to find each other.

Jane arches her neck back so that her mouth is next to his, and this time he moves quick enough to meet her. It was soft, and the angle wasn’t right, but it was a kiss. She scrambles to bring herself upright, but Loki is faster, and he pulls her towards him, his large hands cradling her face like he is afraid she will disappear like all the others had.

Everywhere Loki has seen and lived, and they all pass him by. Even Jane slipped though his fingers however many times before now. He kisses her a second time, a hard slant of his mouth over hers, and then releases her and his hands find her hips and drag her into his lap.

She grabs at his dark hair, curling it around her fingers behind his head and holds his gaze. Something flickers across his face that gives her pause. “Hey.” She whispers, “It’s okay. Just you and me, none of the other stuff.” If she needs some reassurance too, he doesn’t need to know. He only needs to hear her say it. It’s a simple thing to want, but everything else is, and was, complicated.

He might have felt angry at once more getting what Thor had cast aside, and she might feel like she owed him something for saving her life on a half forgotten memory, but if two broken things had a chance to feel whole then what did it matter? Minds, and possibly hearts, had sewn, and unstitched reality long enough that none of it mattered anymore. Because there could have been a them, together, and there could have been something like love.

“I’m not sorry I slapped you though. By the way.”

Loki laughs, slow and deep, “I knew I liked you.”

Jane smiles so wide it crinkles the corners of her eyes, but Loki’s mouth hides it away from anyone else but him. His hands splay across her back. She wants to touch more of him. She lets go of his hair and runs her hands down the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. Down his neck and pushes underneath the high collar he’s wearing. His tongue pushes into her mouth and she grips him tightly, fingernails scraping against leather but catching on enough of his exposed skin for him to hiss against her lips. Loki grabs her hands and moves them away from his neck.

“Sorry!” She says, but he only shakes his head at the apology.

“I would take you somewhere else, to bed you properly.”

That sends a shiver down her spine, and she knows Loki feels it too, grinning like a madman up at her. Holding her tightly he stands with ease, stepping forward with the intention of leaving this place. She wraps her arms around his neck and hopes they can leave together the same strange way they appeared.

“Worth a try.” She murmurs and as soon as the words leave her mouth Loki’s next step brings them into an entirely new place.

Ornate sconces line the walls, burning with steady but dim, light. Heavy curtains and tapestries close off the large space from the outside world, and at first glance there are no windows or doors. A forest, or maybe a dark ocean of greens breaks her fall as Loki drops her onto the bed without warning. Eyes wide with surprise she looks up at him ready to say something and stops, realizing he is in his Asgardian clothing. Not his armor. Looking down she is too, and she plucks at the silky material, it isn’t the golden gown she was gifted before. It is the one from the footage from the TVA. Bronze fastenings and adornments, green slashed with black. The same vision they both saw and chased after. All around them the light is suddenly brighter, the wrong color to be by Loki’s power, and too red for natural fire. Jane looks away from the intensity, but it passes quickly and doesn’t happen a second time.

His eyes follow hers, to their clothing and then to the walls. “Certainly past time that worked in our favor isn’t it?” She pushes herself up to rest on her elbows, pulling a leg up the bed towards her and it brushes against Loki’s. He places a hand on her foot, sliding it gently away from him, raising her knee higher. He runs the backs of his fingers up her ankle, bringing the hem of the dress up and over her knee. Loki turns his hand so that his fingertips can trace the same path backwards. Jane takes a deep breath, and clutches the rich fabrics of the bed.

“May I?”

She nods, her entire body tight with anticipation. She watches him unlace her delicate sandal, eyes not leaving hers as he tosses it somewhere behind him and moves her other leg into the same position. He starts on the other sandal and discards that as well. Loki stands now between her legs, towering over her, unfastening the hidden catches of his vest and tunic. The movements are practiced and efficient, but not so fast that he is without the opportunity to enjoy the weight of Jane’s gaze darting over his body. From collar bones, to the top of his hips, he is lean and strong. A fighter and a weapon, she knows this but in the warm firelight the harsh angles are softened and he is all the more handsome for it.

Loki leans over her, placing one hand near her hip, the other resting on her knee and brings his face down to hers. He brushes her nose with his, Jane closes the small distance between them for another kiss. She sets the pace and he follows along, she touches her tongue to his lips he opens them to her. The slow rhythm, his willingness to follow her lead, at least for now, starts a steady warming low inside her. It spreads through her limbs, languid. She feels for his hand blindly, wraps her fingers around his wrist and tugs gently. Loki breaks the kiss first, moving a hand to the inside of her knee and guides the leg down to the bed. He breaks her hold on his arm easily enough and cradles the back of her head with the newly freed hand, and pulls her under him. With the other arm to support himself his body covers hers, and the weight of him is a welcome feeling. He kisses her cheeks, and nose, under her jaw and along both sides of her neck. She breaths his name, and the kisses stop.

“Again.” He commands, and teeth scrape the place where her neck meets shoulder.

“Loki.” She moans as he bites down, it’s over just as quickly and the feel of his tongue running over the sensitive flesh is worth the small pain. She feels a palm running over her calf, it’s cooler than his fingers were and she shivers all over again and he laughs against her shoulder. Kissing it as well just to be thorough. His hand wanders along her stomach and he brushes against her ribs with his thumb. Loki repeats the movements again, then moves off of her and the bed completely.

He drags a thumb along his lips, “Back against the pillow, please.”

Jane shuffles backwards into the mountain of padding behind her and stops, laying half upright. Loki places a hand, then a knee on the bed and moves towards her, Jane starts untying and unlacing what she can reach of her dress. Loki watches her hands intensely, his hair falling across the side of his face and smiles wolfishly. He stops before her, kneeling now and pushes her skirts farther up around her thighs and the first wrappings fall from Jane’s shoulder. She arches her back off of the bed and unwraps the soft leather belt and tosses it onto the floor. For a moment she holds the dress up around her chest with one arm but Loki’s expression softens and he tilts his head to the side, cautious.

“Second thoughts? I assure you my reputation-” Jane holds up a hand to stop him, pointing a single finger, “I swear if the next thing out of your mouth is about your silver tongue I’m putting this dress back on and leaving.”

“Lady Jane, I’m hurt. Truly.” His smile is anything but.

“Yeah I’m sure you are.” She snorts. Laying her head back, she settles herself a little further into the plush softness behind her. Jane beckons him to her, curling the same finger in a much more welcoming gesture.

He anchors himself with her hips and balances a whisper away from her mouth, “Don’t be afraid to call out to your God Jane, I do enjoy hearing my name on your lips.” Loki kisses his way down her body, lips meeting skin and fabric and Jane watches appreciatively as the muscles of his shoulders move.

His dark hair is loose and wild around his shoulders, and it brushes her skin whenever he turns his head. His steady hands push aside the fabric that has gathered and folded at her hips and traces the curve of her thighs inward. He glances up at her, fingers so close to her center but she says ‘please’ and then exhales a breath so close to a moan when he runs his fingers along delicate skin. He watches her mouth for every sigh and intake of breath and how it matches the pulling, and circling movements he performs. Studying her with delight, until he removes his hand and puts two fingers into his mouth, bringing them out past his lips slowly. He licks his thumb as well and Jane hears his own intake of breath as he connects with her, sliding his fingers in up to his second knuckles and touches another part of her with his spit damp thumb. She closes her eyes and arches up into his touch and he lays his palm low on her stomach, fingers spread wide to hold her gently down. Jane closes her eyes, grabs at the bed, at her dress, and settles to rest one hand on her own hip.

“Here.” It’s a soft command, and she opens her eyes. Loki releases his hold on her and lifts the hand from her hip and guides it towards him. He adjusts himself lower over her and kisses her palm before placing her hand around the back of his head. She has just wrapped her fingers through his hair when he covers where his thumb had been with his mouth.

“Loki!” She cries out.

He hums in satisfaction, lips and tongue and fingers working together to completely unravel her, and the tighter she holds on the more she hears his muffled sounds of pleasure. Jane is still breathless when he removes his hand to only use his mouth. Tongue curling and twisting in a way his fingers could not and she repeats his name over and over like it is the only name she has ever spoken. She begins to shake and he holds her thighs firm and fills himself with the sounds and taste of her release. He kisses her one last time, wraps his arms around her hips and lays his head on her stomach. He holds her close and she runs her hands through his hair gently.

They are together, soft and quiet, but Jane wants more. Needs to hold him against her again for as long as they can. It isn’t the same desperate relief she has needed before in her life, it is the feeling of a final stitch pulling them together. She needs Loki, and she knows that he needs her.

“Come here, please?” She asks, and Loki’s look of open adoration for her steals her breath again.

He moves back up the length of her, buries his face between shoulder and neck and whispers her name against her skin. Jane’s hands wander down his chest and stomach and brushes against the lacings of his soft breeches. Loki adjusts his knees to bring his hips closer to her hands. He speaks lowly, urging her along, every word interrupted by a kiss. He helps her rid himself of the last barrier of clothing, tossed and forgotten with all the rest. She touches him firmly but gently, coaxing small noises that she promises herself to remember after this is all over. Loki pulls her hand away from him and holds it over her head. They wrap themselves around each other, held safe in this lover’s embrace. It is physical, and lust filled, it feels good. Loki moans and growls each time he pulls back and then enters her. Deep, shallow, deeper and Jane responds with wet, messy kisses on his chin and lips. Murmuring words of encouragement. It is restful, all of the running and learning, and existing put aside for just a moment and it feels wonderful.

Loki pulls back to look at her again, opening his mouth to ask something but the words don’t form as easily as one of his illusions. Whatever it was, he thinks Jane understands anyway, as she holds him tightly until they are both panting. Her nails dig into his shoulder, a final flare of passion igniting within her and Loki grunts without words, movements losing their rhythm as he slowly expends his passion as well.

He adjusts his arms on either side of her, resting without putting his entire weight upon her. He once thought about all of the things he could do with the stolen power that was running through her veins. Listening to her breathing now, feeling his own heartbeat slow to a normal pace, he thinks about it again. The give and take, the aether trickling between them both, on its own destructive. Together, it builds, it reinforces something inside of him. Inside of them all, each Loki and each Jane.

He knew it wasn’t going to last, it was borrowed time at best, stolen at worst. Already below him, the red light has returned to wash over Jane’s body. He looks her over quietly, following the ebb and flow of power like a tide upon her skin. Loki wonders what it looks like to her, what she has named the pattern that his eyes cannot see.

“Hey.” Jane says firmly, holding his face again, running her thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.” She kisses his forehead, brushes his nose with hers to get him to look at her.

“Will it?” He asks, eyes closed he puts his forehead against hers.

“It turned out alright this time didn’t it?”

He hums, but doesn’t answer.

“Whatever can happen, will happen if you try enough times. That’s fact. De Morgan said that.” Again she is so confident, that Loki has to smile. She is incredibly strong willed, and it’s hard for him not to accept what she says as absolute truth. He doesn’t know who she is speaking of, but it doesn’t matter because she believes it and that is enough for him to maybe believe as well.

The two of them arrive at the same conclusion that it’s time to get up, time to go. They have been laying together long enough that they are no longer joined, and Loki moves away easily, kneeling next to her he takes a handful of blankets and cleans her body gently before helping her up to sit next to him. She thanks him quietly and wraps both of her arms around one of his, keeping this version of him for another minute. He kisses the top of her head, memorizing the way she smells and the exact shade of her hair before she pulls away to find her clothes. She has the dress slipped over her head and arms but not fastened, shoes in hand. Jane looks around for his clothes when the lights dim and brighten, repeating, more electrical than the flicker of firelight would be and Loki calls for her. Tries to grab her and he knows he wont be fast enough. If he could only do one more thing, help, one last time but it’s not meant to be. Jane sees it, and she reaches back for him but without the haste, she knows too.

The red, humming glow, the feeling of falling through the cold emptiness yet everything that has been made. The time, and lights, collars and chains. Meetings, not hellos and rough goodbyes. Stars, and Loki, and Jane, something given and received and weighty, but not too much to shoulder.

There had been nearly too much footage to ever be watched, but time, as it was, and as he remembered it now, worked differently in the TVA. He knew it, and he could wield it. There were problems, and solutions, and running. A Loki so separate and entangled with everything and everyone around him. Variants all connected by the same roots. A new and glorious purpose.

The stain of red on everything lifted until it was almost nonexistent. What is one new sprout in a garden that blooms infinitely.

In the tangle of green, there was a heartbeat, a lay line, running though all of it, shaking the leaves left in its wake. A breeze where there should be none.

He watches it, as with all things now within his domain and after seconds or centuries it winds through one of the branches close to his throne. He turns his hand, palm upwards and moves his fingers in and back out again, calling it to him. Cheeky little thing, it should not be here in this place so far outside of its own timeline. Wherever and whichever one that might be. A scrap of aether curls around his hand. A reunion perhaps, or maybe he had carried a little of it within him along with so many other little things he had collected without knowing. The tiniest portion must have lived within her after everything, how else would they have been brought together, and apart in a repeating pattern until finally their time had run out and that power faded back into the tended, but natural order of all things.

Just outside the curtain separating him from the rest of the great and beautiful tree, there was a slip of a shadow. A trick of the light. The memory of each life that touches ours for good. Jane he remembers. Here and then gone, an echo. A shiver of a familiar hand trails along the foundation, the gift for all of them built with his magic and his choice. The perfect place to view the entirety of it all, the universe torn apart and remade by his hands. She would think of the perfect bit of mischief to undermine his noble sacrifice in being alone, inviting herself to this place. Called to him, answering him. What was reality for him anymore, for all time on his throne tending Yggdrasil, and of what importance were the plans of a God to a woman who knew without any doubts, that she would understand all the workings of the universe and beyond if only given enough time? Loki had time to spare.

[goatsandgangsters]

had a very interesting day out where I saved a hypothetical dog's life, aesthetically read in the park, and got in the middle of Strangers Arguing in my temporary new job as Patron Saint of Slackliners

first of all, gorgeous day, low 60s, bright blue sky, warm in the sun but with a refreshingly cool breeze, the trees finally have leaves again, peak Late Spring moment

I stopped at the farmer's market and didn't end up buying anything, but someone at a booth gave me a little sprig of lavender (this is a surprise tool that will help us later!)

passed by a guy squatting on the sidewalk picking up the entire contents of a dropped container of grapes, right as his friend was like "it's fine, just leave it, some dog will come by and take care of it" and I whipped around and went "GRAPES ARE SUPER TOXIC TO DOGS!!!" this is an urban area, people don't have yards, there are So Many dogs on the sidewalks, so my first task set by the universe today was sharing Dog Facts so that none of them die

I arrive at the park. I find a lovely tree to sit under. it is the most vibrantly blue-and-green day imaginable. I have my travel mug of hot tea that is only getting hotter sitting in direct sunlight. I have a sprig of lavender in my pocket. I am wearing—this is important scene setting information—high waisted secondhand wool trousers that definitely once belonged to an old man, a button down, tortoise shell glasses, and (again) a sprig of lavender. I am reading a book of oscar wilde plays. I am a parody of myself, but it's fine because I'm having a great time

and then—The Slackline Drama Begins. two people show up and start setting up a slackline near me and these other two girls who're sitting on the grass. the two girls are in the trajectory of the slackline, so the slackliners ask if they could scoot back a couple feet (or maybe they didn't even, the grass girls were like a little off to the side, so they might've just taken issue with the slacklining happening right next to them—not sure, I hadn't fully clocked into the drama yet)

in either case, the girls refuse to move and take issue with the slackliners, who explain that they're really sorry but they need a certain distance between trees and this is one of the few spots that's good for them to set up. the grass girls are like "well then maybe you should have gotten here earlier :))))))))"

important context: this park is 500 acres. it is not a small park. there is no shortage of grass to sit on. I have gotten lost in this park multiple times. it's vast.

there is a lot of back-and-forth between the slackliners and the grass girls. the one slackliner is getting very upset and angry that the grass girls won't just scoot. slackline girl has been having a rough time and hasn't been able to get outside recently and this is very clearly the final shitty-thing straw. the grass girls are immune to this and using that like...... faux-nice "girl who bullied you in middle school" Meanly Chirpy voice to keep being like "well we were here first so this is Our Spot :))))))) you can't ask people to move in public :)))))"

it has gone on long enough that's impossible to ignore, but my mental math says that jumping in and trying to mediate won't go over well, so instead I just look at upset slackline girl and say—loudly—"I'm on your side." bc I felt like if grass girls with their Faux Polite Tones knew other people were paying attention and were siding with Swearing Slackliner, that would help more

Grass Girls do, finally, get up and leave entirely (instead of just...... scooting over five feet) and they make some snide parting remarks. slackline girl calls them assholes, I loudly agree. Slackline Girl is now sobbing, her friend is comforting her, it's kinda clear she's not gonna be able to have a good time even with grass girls leaving

I go over and I'm like "hey I know you don't know me, but do you want a hug?" and the girl says yes, clings onto me crying, she's being very apologetic about the whole thing and trying to explain, and I'm like "no they were literally just sitting on the grass and there is...... So Much Grass. you are not the asshole. there's so much other grass!" I keep this up with her and the friend until she stops crying, bc like sometimes you do need an outside perspective

I go "hey.......... do you want a sprig of lavender?" and she very tearfully nods and goes "I love lavender"

again, I AM DRESSED LIKE A SNAZZY GRANDFATHER, joining this beef between strangers and doling out random sprigs of lavender

anyway, she's cheering up, so I go back to reading, they get slacklining, they end up needing to tie a line to my tree I'm reading under, I don't have a problem with this because I'm not a dick and we can share the tree, the afternoon passes, eventually it's getting a little chilly so I decide to leave and I'm thinking "okay how can I quickly grab their attention to say goodbye"

but the SECOND they see me stand up and grab my things, they're like BYE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! and I'm like "I hope you have a good day!" and she's like "you kinda saved it" I'm full of gooey feelings about it, I genuinely want good things to happen for this person so much, and I'm glad the universe appointed me and my sprig of lavender as her cheerer-upper

in conclusion: I'm enjoying Lady Windermere's Fan so far