#then 5 minutes ago she decided she was Over It and she stood up; STRONGLY considered smacking me;

[thevaudevillescene]

my actual child, whom i birthed and raised.

[hellfire-munson]

Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1

Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader

 Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.

Word count: 2211

This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.

     “Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.

     “Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.

      “If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.

      “Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.

      “Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.

      “Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.

     “Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.

    “Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.

    “I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.

    “Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.

           Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s  girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.

    “Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.

     “You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.

     “Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.

“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.

      “I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.

    “I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.

“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.

     “I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.

    “Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.

    “I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.

     “It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.

     “Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.

    “All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.

    “Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

I thought I'd never see the day

When you smile at me.

We always pull through, oh when we try,

I'm always wrong but you're never right.

Oh you're never right!

       You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

And it's not a dream anymore!

No. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.

Could have given up so easily

I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me

Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for

Just yesterday,

Just yesterday

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)

But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)

We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

        You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.

I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)

We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

       You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.

    “Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.

    “Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.

    “Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.

    “So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.

    “That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.

    “And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.

    “Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.

    “Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.

   “I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.

   “Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.

    “I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.

    “Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.

    “Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.

    “Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.

    “We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.

    “Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.

    “Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.

   “YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.

   “We’re all getting signed.” You smile.

    “I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.

I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it. 

@parkeret​ I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!

@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!

@cookiebuba

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Parts 5-6)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: mention of harsh discipline,

Part 5

Enji explained everything. The whole entire full length truth. He explained what happened to Rei. What she did to Shoto’s eye. What he did to Touya. It flipped her reality completely.

“Thank you for letting me open up about all this. It’s not all easy to admit to. I’m so sorry for not telling you the truth.”

She felt kind of bad for the guy. But she really felt bad for Rei. The guilt she must have in her soul for what she did. For what he pushed her to do. Would it happen to her too? Whatever. She didn’t want to think about that anymore right now. Instead, she snuggled close to him again.

“Let’s just talk about it later. Today was kind of wild wasn’t it? I’m lucky that Shoto called you when he did. I probably would’ve been ashes if he hadn’t done something.”

Her snuggles were met with some of his own. Kisses even. He really was sweet when he wanted to be.

“It was and you’re absolutely right. Because of him, you’re still in my arms. He’s a good kid. Still learning to be tough, of course. Maybe I’ll give him a break tomorrow too and just train with Touya. You and Shoto could just spend some time together.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun. I think he’d really like that. Good idea.”

The next day, Shoto and stepmama Ivy, got to have fun and relax.

They practiced some yoga:

“Okay, Shoto. Let’s try downward dog.” *stretches* “Now you try.”

Shoto attempts the pose successfully and flawlessly.

“Did I do it? I think I did it!!”

“You did! You got it! Good job, Sho! Now, try to keep your balance and reach out with your left arm and lift your right leg. Like this.”

She moves to position and takes a deep breath, coming out of position to observe Shoto. He struggles a bit, but completes the goal and sits back down.

“Awesome! Our next pose is gonna be a little harder. Think you’re up for it?”

“Yeah! I’m ready for anything!”

“Good attitude! So, I know your dad has this idea that being a hero means being all hard and tough. But you have to learn how to be flexible and balanced. You must relax and focus so that you can attack efficiently. Always keep in mind that you have to be able to adapt to successfully strategize and defeat your opponent.”

While she was talking, she bent into the side crow post with grace and ease, balancing on nothing but her hands.

“I can do it! Watch me!”

Shoto attempted the same pose but struggled to hold himself up, falling back down.

“Dang it! I’ll try again.”

He tried again. The same result but he fell down a little quicker.

“Hey, maybe it’s time to take a brea-“

“NO!! I can do it!”

Another attempt and another fall. She could tell he was getting tired but he was really determined.

“Okay. Just remember: relax, focus, and breathe. You got this.”

He tried again. And slipped again, starting to get a little upset. Not a little. A good bit actually. Shoto stood up and stomped around.

“NOOO! NO NO NO NO!”

Ivy sat in front of him, reaching her hands out.

“Hey, Shoto. It’s okay! Calm down. Just breathe.”

He should really take her advice. He was starting to get as red as his own hair. There were tears in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

“I promise I’ll get it, I promise! I’ll work harder and get stronger and-“

“Shoto Todoroki. Take a seat and breathe. Hold my hands.”

Shoto listened and sat down in front of her, putting his little hands in hers. His left hand was really warm but his right hand was cool. Must be his quirk.

“Breathe with me. Deep breath in.”

They inhaled together.

“Deep breath out.”

They exhaled together.

“Now. Why do you feel so strongly about this? It’s literally just yoga. It’s supposed to be fun.”

He wiped his eyes but thinking about why he was getting so frustrated made him cry more.

“And.... I’m supposed to be number one. I’m not s-supposed to fail. Failure is bad. Bad is weakness. Weakness is punishable.”

Ivy didn’t hesitate to pull Shoto into her lap and hug him tight. Every sniffle made her heart sad.

“Sho.... It’s okay. You’re not training with your dad. We’re having a fun day off together. Me and you. You’re safe with me. Life is going to be challenging. You’re not always going to achieve your goal right away. I didn’t come out the wound bending like a pretzel, honey. It took me a long time to master a move like that. You’re only seven years old, you’re not expected to be able to hold up your own body weight. But it also doesn’t mean that you’re not strong. We’ll work on it another day if you’re still determined. Let’s rest your arms and have a snack and relax.”

Shoto wiped his face again and stood up.

“Can we cuddle and watch a movie too?”

“It’s your day off. We can do whatever we want. If that’s what you wanna do, let’s do it!”

When he got up she crouched to wipe his face and kiss his forehead, standing up and holding his hand. After an arm massage, a snack, and a movie, cuddle included, he felt a lot better. They both did. The movie finished just in time for Touya and Enji to return. That’s when Ivy discovered Shoto had fallen asleep. She let him sleep for a little longer while she made dinner.

“What did you guys do while Touya and I were out?”

She shrugged.

“Nothing much. Just some yoga. But.... we need to talk about his emotional health. He got really upset when he couldn’t do this one pose. I don’t know. Does the phrase ‘Weakness is punishable’ sound familiar to you?”

Enji looked from the floor to the wall. He really tried to pretend he didn’t hear what she just said.

“Touya did good today. Not great. Just good.”

“Enji. He’s seven. You can’t keep pushing him so hard. It’s gonna backfire on you. It probably already has with Touya.”

“He’s fine, Ivy. It’s what he needs to push himself.”

“Why does he need to push himself? The only pushing he should be dealing with is on a swing.”

“What did I tell you about trying to tell me what my kids need?!”

The two froze when Shoto shuffled. Maybe if Mr. Hellfire didn’t raise his voice he wouldn’t have woken up. He yawned before rubbing the sleep away and looking at them.

“Is dinner ready yet?”

She rolled her eyes at Enji and gave him a warm smile.

“Almost, Sho. Can you go ahead and get your brother and wash your hands please?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

Shoto slid off the couch and headed to Touya’s room, sort of stumbling from still being a little tired. Back in the kitchen, Ivy glared at Enji, her voice lowered to a whisper.

“We WILL talk about this later.”

“Fine with me, urchin.”

“Whatever, flaming bookshelf.”

Sometimes people do outta pocket shit. People like Enji. Who for some reason thought it was hot for her to call him a flaming bookshelf and smacked her ass and walked off. She gasped and grabbed a wooden spoon and threw it at the back of his head, trying not to laugh.

“BOOOYYYY IF YOU DON-”

Part 6

The incident with Touya was three days ago. Enji and Ivy continued to argue about how they should handle the situation before coming to the conclusion that they’d just talk to him. For a good 20 minutes, he sat on one side of the living room and they sat across from him. Enji and Touya had a glaring contest and Ivy just tried to smile so he wouldn’t have to feel like he was in big trouble, not that he broke eye contact with Enji to even notice her anyways.

Finally, Ivy broke the awkward silence.

“Sooooo.... Touya. Your father and I just wanted to talk to you about the other d-“

“Apologize.”

“No.”

This is where the trouble starts. Something is always going to go wrong when someone interrupts someone else. Especially if there’s two people that butt heads constantly.

“Hun, I got this. So. Touya. Is there anything that you want to say about what happened? Would you like to explain what you were feeling?”

Since she was being so nice about it, he decided to answer her. He rolled his eyes and adjusted himself before speaking.

“Listen. I’m sure you’re a nice person, but to be honest.... I think you’re weak, I think you’re sensitive, and I think you’re useless. I FEEL like you think you can replace my mom but you don’t even have a quirk! You’re literally nothing but some wench off the street looking for home, stray.”

“ALRIGHT THAT’S IT! YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME RESPECT, INGRATE!!“

“YOU AND ME OLD MAN, LET’S GO!!”

They were about to hurt each other but Ivy interfered before any damage was done.

“Enji, just go check on Shoto! I’LL talk to him. Alone.”

Enji growled before stomping off to the door to check on his youngest playing outside, while Touya sat back down with a huff. Now it was just the two of them.

“Touya.... I know this isn’t just about me or your mom not being here. I know how hard he pushes you. I know what your dad does to push you, and past your limits at that. You’re still a kid. A teenager. Life is already so hard for you. Psychologically especially. You’re growing up. Going through puberty. Liking people more than in just a friendly way. Reading magazines-“

“Oh god, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!”

She did stop, since she was only kidding, and laughed at his reaction.

“I’m just messing with you, kid. But seriously. I know it’s hard and I see the resentment in your face. I also see the stress you’re giving yourself. I know that that pain and frustration you projected onto me the other day, was a little bit cause, y’know, I’m not Rei. And I know that in that aspect, I can’t change anything. *sigh* But I still want to do my best to protect you guys. Because I really do care about you. I am so proud of you and the strength and determination that you show. I don’t know if your father ever acknowledges it, but this is me acknowledging it. Good job, Touya. You’re my number one hero.”

At first, he tried to sit there and pretend like he hadn’t heard a single word she had said. He was almost convincing until the ends of his mouth quivered. Until he wiped his face with his forearm. Until he got up and walked over to her and couldn’t look her in the eyes. Just stood in front of her. It wasn’t for nothing. She knew what was happening. He needed to be held, so that’s what she did. She embraced him with open arms and a squeeze to reassure him that he was safe with her. That she would do anything to protect him. That he was worthy and more than just a masterpiece.... that he was someone that was loved obviously instead of just the absence of negative moments.

She could feel him shaking when he cried. He needed this, he was positive-touch starved. Jesus.

“I’m r-really s-sorry.... for what happened.... for everything I said....”

Ivy rubbed his back before pulling back to look at him and wipe his face.

“I forgive you. More importantly. Did you like the dinner I put out in front of your door that night?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. It was great-“

“SCORE ONE FOR STEPMAMA!! WOOHOO!! Sorry, I love cooking. I also love you.”

“Back at ya.”

He smiled and headed to his room. Ivy took a deep breath, feeling accomplished. At least.... before Enji ran back inside in panic and looking upset. He’d been running around, there was sweat on his face.

“SHOTO’S GONE!!”

“....W-What?”

[vintagegoddess12]

Radioactive Salvation Ch. 5

[Cordelia Goode x Reader]

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, and 4

A/N: I am alive, yes. Thank you for waiting y’all. Throughout the months that I’ve taken a break (that was a real long break asdfdghkl), lots of you continue to read and send sweet messages. Those are real inspiring. If you’re reading this chapter, hold on to your horses because Chapter 6 is coming sooner than you think. Enjoy y’all.

@cordeliasflowergirl @athenamgh @stevenuniversetanzanite @germansarechill @chonisbestmistake @alurous​ 

Just comment down below your thoughts and suggestions. You can also dm y’all. Everything is much appreciated. 

I sat on the head of the table and Misty took the chair to my left, an action that made Madison's brow to raise but we just shrugged it off.

Myrtle is the only one who isn't seating yet. When she noticed, she got off the phone and instantly sat down. "Pardon me, girls. Bubbles just called and said she's going to drop by later to greet her favorite roommate a happy birthday."

"Oh please!" Madison rolled her eyes, "She's her favorite because she's the only one who stuck with her."

"Who's gonna have a birthday?" Misty asked while chewing a part of her bagel. I tried to remember what date it was and failed. Things have been too busy around the manor. I haven't even visited my room for a while now.

My room.

I suddenly remembered you. My body stiffened at the thought - or lack thereof - I had of you for hours now.

"It's Y/n's birthday," Myrtle answered the witch in front of her. "She used to be Bubbles' roommate before she moved into Delia's bedroom."

How careless of me! I completely forgot about your birthday. I don't think I even got you a gift, not that you care for the material things. I glanced at the seat on my left, the one you usually occupy, only to realize that it was Misty taking the place. I was too preoccupied with assisting Misty yesterday that I don't remember seeing you all day.

"Where is she by the way?" Mallory inquired that prompted everyone at the table to look at me. They're used to me knowing your whereabouts, especially before we got out of bed. I'm used to that too but this morning was different. You didn't grace my mind until they've reminded me. What is wrong with me?

I tried answering but no sound came out of my mouth. I took a deep breath and excused myself, "I'm going to wake her up now." A sudden flush of guilt run over my body. I walked to our room, but not before overhearing the girls' hushed discussion.

"Did she just forget her girlfriend's birthday?" Coco whispered. Zoe called her out, saying it wasn't nice.

"I don't think it's just her birthday that she forgot," Madison remarked. I can feel her stare behind me. Sometimes, I hate her for being right.

I reached the door and I was trying to think of ways to brighten up the situation. You hate waking up alone in the morning, that's why I was always hesitant to leave our bed when Misty or any other of the girls need me. That's why you moved into my room after Bubbles left to continue her career outside the coven even before we were together. That's why you went to the academy.

You hate to be alone.

Before I opened the door, I decided that I will make it up to you by treating you to dinner tonight then perhaps stargazing. You've always liked the silence of the night and the moon and stars gracing the night sky. It wasn't much but you've always loved the simplicity in things.

When I opened the door, I was expecting you to be seating in front of the mirror and combing your hair - that routine you take the longest to do in the morning - or lying in the bed because you're mad at me. I was surprised to see neither. In fact, you weren't there. The bed was made and cold - untouched by any living person for a long time. I checked for you in the shower, maybe you were taking your time in the tub. You weren't. Nervousness trying to creep its way slowly inside my head. I tried to shrug it off and checked the window facing the garden. Maybe you wanted to have some alone time with nature. You're still nowhere to be seen. This time, there's no denying that I am scared.

I walked myself back to the dining area, the girls' confused faces welcomed me. "Where's y/n?" Myrtle asked, "Is something the matter, dear?"

I looked at her and summoned the courage to speak. "Does anyone know where y/n is because she's not in our room?" Addressing everyone at the table. The younger witches talked in hushed tones then shook their heads.

Coco raised her hand to get my attention, "The last time we saw her, she was going to Misty's place to clean up, right?" She confirmed with Queenie who in turn nodded. "But that was like yesterday morning," my voodoo sister witch added.

That wasn't good. You never leave the house and don't come back before sunset. I stepped back and tried to remember the location of Misty's shack, one I always go to when I want to have peace of mind. I was able to do that but not before a gloved hand reached for me.

"You are so not using transmutation to go there, Delia." Aunt Myrtle remarked, distracting me.

"But I have to get there fast," I replied, too strongly.

"It's dangerous out there, with the Antichrist and everything," her grip on me tightened.

"The more reason I have to be there, instantly!" I snatched my hand away.

"Stop bickering, the two of you," Madison, now walking away from the dining table, intervened. "Queenie, you're in charge of the academy. Zoe, you're coming with us."

"What are you going to do?" Zoe hesitantly asked her sister witch.

"Buckle up, bitch. I'm driving," Madison replied while reaching for her keys in her bag.

I practically sprinted to her car and took the front seat. When Madison took the wheel, she went as fast as she could but not as fast I wanted. I tried speeding up the vehicle but that resulted in Myrtle yanking my hair from behind to distract me. Somehow, she knew words wouldn't exactly stop me so she opted for the physical approach.

When we reached the swamp, time stood still for me. I don't feel your presence, just traces. I approached Misty's house only to be embraced with familiar warmth.

Your warmth

You were here, I'm positive. I called out your name before I went inside, maybe you're just sleeping.

"Is this...?" Aunt Myrtle motioned to the energy surrounding the shack.

"A protective dome, yes," I replied. "I didn't know she can do that." I can't help but smile. I've always known that you are powerful and as years pass by, you learn to master even the highest forms of witchcraft.

I entered the house, hoping that you're inside, only to find the remnants of your visit. New albums of Fleetwood Mac. New stereo. No trace of dust. When I used my gift of Sight, I see you cleaning up with a content look on your face. Tears started forming in my eyes until Zoe called out for me.

"What is it?" I asked my council. She pointed me in the direction of the two bodies lying on the grass and starting to fade away. I quickly grabbed a part of them before disappearing only to see visions of you.

You were running for your dear life.

That's the only thing I saw. Then everything went black.

I can't feel you. I can't even see what happened afterward.

---

Seeing you running and knowing nothing but that shook me to the very core. I tried. Believe me, darling, I tried to find out what took place in the woods but I failed. Your sister witches were helping as well but we still had nothing. The coven was spread too thin, between finding you and ensuring that we are safe from the Antichrist.

It was before supper and Misty knocked on our bedroom.

"Delia, the food will be ready any minute," she said as she stood in the doorway. I nodded and continued to stare at your favorite dress hung on the dresser.

"She'll want ya to be strong, ya know," she said unpromptedly.

"I don't know what she wants anymore," I uttered.

"Shame," another voice chimed in the conversation, "that's what she would want you to feel."

I turned to see Bubbles entering the room. Misty excused herself right before the older witch slammed the door.

"You've been avoiding me," I remarked. It's been days since she occupied her old room here and this is the first time she spoke to me.

"So did you," she nonchalantly said as she sat down at the edge of the bed. It's true. I don't even know how I'd tell her that you were gone or lost or how unsure of it I am anymore.

The silence enveloped the room for a few a second before she spoke. "I've always known she would die if she stayed here, with you."

"She's not dead," I replied sharply, trying to hide the pain the statement caused.

"How sure are you?" She took a hit from her cigarette. Silence once again covered the air, if not for the occasional huff and puff from her cigarette.

The idea that your own best friend is uncertain that you're alive breaks my heart even more.  

"She almost died for you once," Bubbles whispered, with her voice breaking. The sentence prompted me to look at her way. She put out her cigarette and looked at me, tears forming in her eyes. "[y/n] is all about saving the people she loves," she continued, "no matter the cost."

"I know," I replied trying to keep my voice from wavering.

"No, you don't" She replied sternly. "She fights these silent battles for us, keeping us from harm that we don't even know exists."

At this point, I'm not even sure what would be the next words coming out of her mouth.

"You're probably wondering what I'm saying," she lets out a little scoff before continuing, "there was a time when she saw your powers fading."

In my head flashed moments from years ago when I felt someone was taking the air out of my lungs, unsure whether I was being cursed or dying. I couldn't even walk straight on my own. I would rush into my office just to hide the fact that the coven's new supreme is sick or worse... fading.

"She performed a ritual to stop your weakening," she muttered in the air, taking me out of my reverie. She continued to look at the white walls of my - our room, "she performed it perfectly but we all know every ritual has a price."

She paused momentarily before facing me, "She was writhing on the floor with life draining out her eyes. We were so sure that she's dying." The former actress can't stop the tears falling out of her eyes. "I felt shame because I was her senior and friend and yet we can't do anything to help her"

"Who's we?" My voice filled with confusion, "what ritual?"

"I can't tell you that because I made a promise," she stood up from the bed preparing to leave, "and unlike you, I'm not gonna let that girl down."

Looking at Bubbles, I'm not sure whether it was her intention to hurt me but all I know is that her words sting. The woman you have treated like family all these years thinks that I'm the reason you're gone.

It hurts because I know she's right.

"All I can say is," she paused to get my attention, "that ritual made her the barrier between the transfer of your powers to the new supreme." She looked around as if not wanting to say what was about to come out of her mouth.

"So if you think you are fading," she says the last word like it's the plague, "that means the barrier is gone."

She blinked back her tears before walking out.

Love, are you really gone?

---

The logical answer is no.

You are breathing, existing, in this post-apocalyptical world you have created with the Antichrist.

However, looking at you right now through the blurry, intoxicating fog outside the Hawthorne Academy, I think it's safe to say the [y/n] I know is gone.

The black dress that hugs your figure emanates darkness and deadliness. The way you move and position your body speaks of a changed woman. A woman who can hurt and kill. A woman who can-

"-who can what, Cordelia?" a sharp voice echoed around me.

The fog between us cleared and showed you - tears streaming down your face. I was about to open my mouth when you answered the question yourself.

"A woman who can end the world?"

"[y/n]..." I was about to disagree when you continued.

"You're not wrong about that."

[cutieodonoghue]

the edge of hope (6/9)

summary: canon divergent au; when Din left Sorgan to protect the Child, he left the woman he’d fallen in love with, not knowing he’d also left behind something else. Or, Omera and Winta join Mando and Grogu on their season 2 adventures. Mandomera!

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Sixth chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Jedi

The journey to Corvus took a while, which meant there was enough time for the crew aboard the Razor Crest to spend time together in the hold of the ship. 

While Winta and the Child played together on the floor, giggling loud enough that it could be heard from the cockpit, Omera spent her time working on a sewing project for the baby. It would be a pair of socks, eventually, mended together with fabric she’d brought along from the village.

Din had decided to stay up above by himself. She had to wonder if it was because he was upset about having to say goodbye to his boy once they found a Jedi. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find themselves following yet another clue to find the Jedi that Bo-Katan had vouched for.

As Omera sewed together the small sock for her unborn child, she couldn’t ignore the guilt that sat within her. She should’ve told Din when she had the opportunity. She should’ve found the words, as hard as they would’ve come. But instead, she’d allowed herself to get caught up in it all over again.

There was no such thing as perfect timing. She knew that now. The children would always be a priority in their travels, and so would the mission at hand. 

As if he knew she was thinking of him, the Mandalorian dropped down from the upper level, landing with a thud that startled the children. They each turned to look at him for a moment, and when he had nothing to say, they returned to what they were doing.

He came to stand near Omera, though he didn’t come as close as he usually did. She sat within the opened sleeping nook, on the edge so that she could watch the children play.

“Are we getting close?”

Din turned his attention onto her, looking away from the kids. “Still a while to go.”

Omera nodded in understanding. 

She watched Winta roll a ball across the floor, gesturing for the Child to go grab it for himself. He seemed less interested in play time, instead flopping down to sit. Winta did the same. 

“When we were on Nevarro…” Din spoke carefully, just low enough that it was only for her to hear. Omera looked up at him patiently. “Cara and Greef said some things…”

She couldn’t help but smile. “They implied some things…”

He nodded. “I… just want you to know that I would’ve gone back to Sorgan. Even if you hadn’t come with us. You’re… important. To me.”

Her heart fluttered. She knew he wanted them to be together, that he may have even had feelings for her that were strong, but to hear him say so aloud felt like a gift.

“I would’ve been there waiting.”

The Mandalorian was quiet while his focus changed, shifting instead to his toddling boy with a happy grin on his face. At his side, Winta had discovered the Mandalorian armor that Cobb Vanth had worn on Tatooine. She slid the helmet over her head and giggled. Then, she pulled it off and showed it to the Child.

It surprised her a little that Din didn’t chastise the children for playing with it. He’d felt so strongly about protecting the armor and bringing it back to his people.

“Before him, I provided for my people on Nevarro. The covert is gone now. Scattered. After we find his kind, I won’t have a path I’m sworn to.”

Din folded his arms against his chest and turned his attention onto her again.

“I thought… maybe my next path would reveal itself to me on this journey. Maybe I’d find the members of my covert who scattered. But instead, we’ve just run around in circles, and Gideon’s back.”

She’d felt so excited at the idea of being together when this mission was over that she hadn’t considered what Din wanted to do next. Her only concern had been the relief of knowing he wanted to be together. 

Would he still want that when he learned of their child? And what about his future? Was it fair to him to stay together somewhere, raising a family, when he could help so many with his skills and talents?

Her stomach flipped and she averted her gaze, looking at the baby sock in her hand.

“Well, maybe your next steps will be revealed to you soon,” Omera told the Mandalorian. She refused to look at him, feeling too ashamed of herself.

Din was silent for a few seconds. “Maybe.”

Before Omera had the chance to say anything, to offer him hope, he walked away, retreating back toward the cockpit again. She shut her eyes, sighing softly through her nose.

How could they ever be together? It felt like a dream that would never be realized, so distant that it felt foolish to continue running after it.

At her feet, she felt the sudden warm embrace of small hands around her calf. Looking down, she saw the Child, whose smile was gentle and innocent.

“Hi, little one.”

Omera leaned down to pull him up into her lap. With her arm around his belly, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

“What do you think?” She held up the sock. “It’s not finished yet… but I think it will work.”

The Child tilted his head and cooed. He reached out with one hand to take it and she laughed.

“It isn’t for you.” Omera kissed the top of his head before whispering, “It’s for your little brother or sister.”

The Child’s smile spread happily. Her heart felt warm. She could only imagine what it would feel like to finally tell Din.

-

“Din.” Winta sighed his name heavily from her seat behind him. “I miss home.”

They had been on their way to Corvus for a considerable length of time, so Winta’s complaint wasn’t without its reason, but it still hurt to hear. They were a traveling crew, one he was quite fond of. Winta in particular was just one way this journey had become so much brighter, in more ways than one.

Omera had excused herself to use the privy a few minutes ago and still hadn’t returned, so Din knew he had no choice but to turn and answer the angst-ridden child.

“I know you’re uncomfortable. I think we’re all getting a little cabin fever.”

Winta threw her head back and huffed a dramatic sigh. “I wish we could just be there already.”

Din sighed. He took a peek out the window of the cockpit and pointed to the nearby planet.

“Look. That’s Corvus. If you can just sit tight for a few more minutes, we’ll start the landing cycle, and we’ll be back on solid ground soon enough.”

The door to the cockpit opened and Omera entered. She sat without saying anything, but he still glanced back at her anyway. 

The journey had been unintentionally tense between them for no other reason than his knowing that she had something to tell him, and her insistence that she wait until they finally found the Jedi.

If she wanted to tell him her feelings, he had an inclination that he knew what they were already. At least, he hoped he knew. After everything that they’d shared, everything spoken and unspoken, the direction she seemed to lean was in the very same direction he did.

It was hard to admit it to himself, after a lifetime of perfecting a tough outer shell. The feeling had only intensified with her closeness to him these past few weeks. 

Din was in love, and it wasn’t just with Omera. He’d fallen for Winta too, the adorable girl with dimples and a penchant for making up songs.

They would be together, once this journey was finished, and it made his chest tight with longing each time the thought came to his mind, even if it terrified him. He didn’t know what it would look like, or how they would make it work. They’d figure it out. They’d have to.

“We’re almost there,” Din told Omera. He looked at the Child, seated on the console to his right. “You better get back in your seat, kid.”

The Child cooed, but didn’t move. For a second, he looked at the ball tightened on the lever - his favorite toy to hold. 

“Hey,” Din said, trying to force his attention back on him. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

After one more coo, the Child finally used his feet to move, climbing up onto Omera’s lap with a little contented sigh from the boy.

With the Empire likely on their tail and the Jedi not too far ahead, Din had to wonder what would come next. Would Moff Gideon lay off if the Child was returned to his kind? Would the Jedi even want to take him?

It was enough to keep Din’s mind busy considering every possible outcome of this stop on Corvus- a place, they soon discovered, that had been devastated by something, or someone. Trees sat dying on the barren forest floors, and a sleepy town sat behind tall brick walls.

It seemed desolate and empty. Why would a Jedi come here?

After settling the Razor Crest onto the ground near the town with tall brick walls, Din turned to his crew in the cockpit.

“Well, Corvus awaits.”

Winta slouched off of her chair, the earlier angst having melted into some sort of fresh tiredness mixed with it. Omera shook her head at the girl.

“You’ll feel better once we get outside,” Omera said as she ushered her child up out of her chair. “Let’s go.”

As they stepped off of the Crest, Din focused on the world around them. It was quiet. A few creatures moaned in the distance, but the land seemed peaceful. Although, the dead trees standing all around the ship seemed to be a bad omen for things to come.

Behind him, the Child sat down on the ramp. Din turned, frowning when he saw that he’d pulled the ball off of the lever.

“What did I say about that?” He leaned down, scooping the Child into his arms. He pulled the ball away from him. “This needs to stay in the ship.”

“Mama, what happened to this land? It’s so… sad.”

Omera shook her head. “I don’t know. It certainly hasn't been cared for, has it?”

“No.”

Din approached the pair who stood just ahead of him. 

“Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead. I’ve never had dealings with a Jedi before, so… not sure where to start.”

“That seems as good a place as any to try,” Omera agreed. 

The walls of the town were higher than they’d seemed before, towering high above them as they approached the main gate. A handful of officers stood watch above them. Thoughtfully, he hid the Child within the fabric sling at his side in an attempt at keeping his identity secure.

After a short inquiry by the gate officers, they were permitted to enter through the gates, and once they stepped inside, Din knew right away that this mission was about to be difficult. Very few of the people within the gates seemed eager to linger, much less look in their direction.

“Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…”

The vendor turned away from him, heading away from her goods and inside the building just behind her. Frowning, Din sighed. He looked at Omera, who lingered behind him. She stared into an alleyway, at an older man who tended to two children.

“Excuse me,” Omera kept her voice low and kind. “Can you help us?”

The older man shooed the children away and then approached them. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us.”

Frowning, Omera shook her head. “We just need help finding someone. Please-”

Before she could make any headway with the villager, a pair of fully armed and threatening guards approached them and addressed him directly. 

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

He met Omera’s gaze. She instantly held Winta closer. With a nod toward the guards, he allowed them to guide them toward their Magistrate. 

“Stay close.”

Omera nodded silently. 

They were led toward another large gate within the town: a strange centerpiece to an already strange place.

Worried, he kept Omera and Winta in his sights at his side. He was always committed to protecting them, but with the hope of staying together once this journey was finished, he felt extra protective.

As they approached the second gate, Omera protected her daughter from the sight of three prisoners being tortured for all to see. He tried to shield Winta from it as well and stepped in front of her strategically.

“Help us.” He was electrocuted for his words and released a scream so bloodcurdling that Din couldn’t help but feel contempt for the one who was doing this to them.

Beyond the gates, there was a calm and peaceful garden. A bridge covered a pond full of fish, and that’s where the Magistrate stood, feeding her pets while three lives were tortured to the brink of death just feet away.

He led his crew just beyond the gates and stopped.

“Come forward.” It was clear to him that this woman was the cause of the troubles of this town. While she lived in comfort, her people were tightly controlled and fearful for their lives. Even still, he stepped toward her with Omera and Winta just behind him. “You are a Mandalorian?”

“Yes.”

“I have a proposition that may interest you.”

Din held his head high, glancing out of the corner of his vision at Omera. She held Winta close, protecting her even though they’d already seen the worst that this town had to offer.

“My price is high.”

The Magistrate took a few steps toward him. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

He felt the Child stir a little at his side and was reminded of his true purpose for being on this planet. He needed to find the Jedi, not kill her.

“That’s a difficult task.”

The Magistrate offered a small smile. “One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

“As I said, my price is high.” 

He was unwilling to pledge that he’d kill one of the Child’s kind. It was wrong to even consider such a thing, but he didn’t want to put their lives in danger by denying the Magistrate’s offer. It seemed to him that she might know where the Jedi was, and that was all he needed.

The Magistrate quietly summoned a guard droid forward, one holding a spear in hand. 

“What do you make of this?”

The Magistrate spun the dull end of the spear toward him and then held it outward in both hands as an offering. Carefully, he stepped toward her to take it. When he took it into his hands, he studied it carefully. It seemed like beskar in feel, and when he tested it against his arm gauntlet, he was proven right. Rang out clean.

“Beskar.”

“Pure beskar… like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

“Where do I find this Jedi?”

-

Walking around on a dying, unfamiliar planet with two children was not his brightest idea, especially considering the risks surrounding them, but they really had no choice. If they wanted to find the Jedi, they needed to keep moving.

Omera walked at his side while Winta ran ahead. She used the angst she’d built up on the ship in the quickness of her strides. It was only the smallest step above the complaining she’d done when they began the walk in terms of anxiety-inducing behaviors.

“Winta!” Omera called after her. “Winta, you can’t keep running ahead.”

Winta stopped, throwing her head back to groan. “Mama…”

“This is a planet none of us know,” Omera scolded. “We don’t know what’s out there. We can’t protect you if you get too far ahead.”

An idea came to him when he heard the Child make a noise. He gestured for Winta. “Come here. You can hold the Child.”

Winta came back toward them and waited patiently for him to grab the boy from the sling at his side. When he settled him into Winta’s arms, the Child cooed happily.

“There,” Din said, nodding toward them. “We’re getting close to the coordinates. We stay together. Understood?”

Winta nodded. “Yes, Din.”

He looked at Omera, whose usual brightness seemed to have dampened. “Okay?”

She took a breath of the thick Corvus air and smiled slightly. “I think all of the adventure is finally catching up with me. Traveling with two young ones isn’t easy, is it?”

Din shook his head. “No, but at least we’re together.”

Her expression softened a little and she nodded her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed thinking about what will happen when we find the Jedi. Will he go with them? Will he be okay with the Empire after him? Will we?”

They were all questions that had been plaguing him since learning of Gideon’s survival on Nevarro. It was comforting to know he had Omera to lean on as she worried about the same uncertainties. 

Sighing, Din stared at the Child in Winta’s arms. “I don’t know.”

A twig snapped behind them and Din turned quickly, pulling his blaster from his side as he moved. Ahead of him, an unfamiliar figure stood with a pair of light sticks in her hands. She wore a soft smile on her lips and a quirk in her brow.

“Aren’t bounty hunters supposed to travel lightly?”

Din narrowed his eyes slightly. “Are you Ahsoka Tano?” The woman said nothing indicating if she was or not, so he held hope that she was. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Pleasantly, she stepped closer to them. For a moment, he thought about how he’d attack should she decide to try something, but she saw past him and Omera, her gaze settling on the Child in Winta’s arms instead.

“I hope it’s about him.”

-

The Jedi sat opposite the Child, both planted firmly on fallen trees, for hours. The light of the day gave easily to night, and Din was unable to stay in one place for longer than a second.

He paced around in wandering circles, waiting helplessly as Ahsoka seemed to commune with the Child in silence. 

He knew nothing of how the Jedi worked, or if talking silently was how the Child was meant to communicate, but he found some comfort in the way Ahsoka Tano carried herself. She would have answers for him.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Omera held a snoozing Winta in her arms. Her nervous gaze was set only on him every time he even cast a glance in her direction. His stomach flipped at the contact and his heart clenched warmly within his chest.

He found comfort in the fact that he wasn’t in this alone. They’d found the Jedi together.

From their perch just ahead of him, Ahsoka nodded at the Child, whose arms were held out as if he wished to be carried. She scooped him into her arms and grabbed her lantern, then slowly made her way towards him. 

Feeling nothing short of anxious, Din met her halfway. The Jedi settled the Child upon a rock and sat next to him. The kid babbled at her and she smiled fondly.

“Is he speaking?” Din asked. “Do you understand him?”

“In a way,” Ahsoka replied, meeting his gaze. “Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Din asked. It earned him an excited chirp from the Child as he craned his head to the side to look up at him.

“Yes.” Din stared at the Child. The Child stared back. Something had changed in the kid. Maybe it was because he was understood by someone. “That’s his name.”

“Grogu.”

This time, the Child’s eyes were wider and his ears perked up. There was a happy look on his face accompanying the noise he made. It must’ve been true: his name was Grogu.

“He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden.” As Ahsoka spoke, Din sat on a fallen tree stump opposite the Jedi to listen to her story. “Someone took him from the Temple. Then his memory becomes… dark. He seemed lost. Alone.”

She paused and looked thoughtfully at the kid- Grogu. He seemed tired. His eyes squinted and his head fell. His ears flopped around as he tried to keep awake. “I’ve only known one other being like this. A wise Jedi Master named Yoda.”

As if affirming her words, Grogu made a noise. Din wasn’t sure what to think, but he appreciated learning about his history. As tragic as it sounded, he could relate to it. They were both foundlings. They had both been lost. 

“Can he still wield the Force?” she asked.

Din shook his head. The word meant absolutely nothing to him. “You mean his powers?”

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

He thought back over every extraordinary thing, big and small, that he’d seen the kid do. There was so much power inside of him that Din could never explain or make peace with. The Mudhorn. Healing Karga. What he did on Nevarro with the fire. Moving things… choking people.

“I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain.” On the rock to his left, Grogu had closed his eyes, tired, and sighed as sleep overwhelmed him. “My task was to bring him to a Jedi.”

Sorrowfully, Ahsoka’s gaze fell dark. She frowned. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

It seemed like she didn’t want to help him. She had to know the dangers that the kid faced. He was special and wanted because of it. 

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts him. He needs your help.”

The Jedi contemplated this. He could tell that it wasn't something she took lightly. On either side of Grogu's path, there was the threat of the Empire. 

“Let him sleep,” the Jedi said. “I’ll test him in the morning.”

Gently, she stood up, but she didn't walk away. Din followed her action and lifted the Child into his arms, cradling him as he typically did. Glancing past him, Ahsoka stared at Omera and Winta, not for the first time since their meeting. She looked back again.

“Grogu is attached to all of you,” she shared. She kept her voice low on behalf of the kid. “He told me she was special to you, too.”

Din smiled to himself, unable to help it. “Her name is Omera. She is… very special to me, yes.”

Ahsoka smiled amiably at his words. “It worries me- how attached Grogu is. It will make it difficult to train him.” Pausing, she took a half step backward. “But we’ll see how he is in the morning.”

“Right.” 

He looked down at the boy sleeping in his arms for only a moment, but when he looked back up again, the Jedi had disappeared.

On a sigh, he made his way over to Omera. She was still awake where she rested, waiting for him to share what he’d learned from the Jedi. He sat down with his back pressed to the same tree. Their shoulders pressed together, but he couldn’t see her.

“What did she say?” Omera asked quietly.

Din’s chest ached as he lowered his hand to the Child’s belly. 

Finally, he knew who this special child was, and it would only be a matter of time before they were no longer together. Ahsoka would undoubtedly see potential in Grogu and want to train him. It was something he hadn’t thought about, not wanting to deal with the realization that he had grown so attached to the kid.

Now that the time had finally come, the reality weighed heavy in his heart.

“She said his name is Grogu. She’s going to test his abilities in the morning.”

“Grogu,” Omera repeated. She laughed under her breath. “It’s nice to hear that he has a name.”

Din nodded in agreement. “It is.”

Silence between them grew like a vine on a wall for a long time, until Omera shifted and put her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry we’ve made this part of the journey so difficult. Winta wants to go home… I’ve been distant...”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I want you to know that I’m here to support you. And Grogu. I want to be here with you both.”

Hearing Omera say that she wanted to be with him wasn’t a surprise. They’d made an agreement that they would find a path forward together once Grogu was with the Jedi. Even still, he felt his heart rate double at her words.

Omera wanted him in a way no other had before. She wanted a life with him, and he wanted it in kind. It surprised him how much he did.

Din shut his eyes. He pressed his head against the tree. 

“When this is over…” he paused thoughtfully. “Maybe we could go to Nevarro. Winta can go to school. I can get work with Cara or Greef. We can have a home there.”

For a few seconds, she was quiet. He began to doubt that she felt comfortable with the idea of a life like that with him. Maybe she wanted something different. Maybe she wanted a life on Sorgan. But could he settle down there?

“That sounds nice,” Omera finally replied. Her voice was warm and gentle. “Maybe I would become a Mandalorian, too.”

The thought of Omera becoming Mandalorian was enough for him to forget to breathe. 

“You would do that?”

“Yes.” Omera’s responding whisper brought an unbreakable smile to his face. “I’m kind of jealous of your armor, if I’m honest.”

He laughed, a noise that came from his belly, and Omera joined him. Her fingers found his on the forest floor, gentle when they slid against his gloved hand. 

How had he found her? How had he been so lucky?

“What about Sorgan?” Din asked. “Your people would miss you. Winta would miss it too.”

She sighed. “I know. I think we would make it work. She could find new friends. And we would be together. I don’t want you to have to settle for something like a life on Sorgan if it isn’t what you want.” 

“You shouldn’t have to settle, either.”

She was quiet while she thought about it. “We could visit the village. It’s a compromise I’m willing to make for our future together.”

With his eyes closed, he could see it: a home in Nevarro. Winta’s giggles echoing off the walls. A bed he and Omera could share alone. Doing odd jobs for Greef and Cara. Bringing Winta home a gift from wherever he found himself in his travels. 

If he extended his reach enough, he could just feel it in the palm of his hand.

-

In the morning, once Grogu finally awoke, Ahsoka Tano began testing his abilities. 

She started with a rock in her hand, one she pushed toward him as a demonstration of what she wanted him to do. Once he held the rock in his hand, she asked him to push it back by using the Force.

Din watched from the side, sensing that Grogu’s stubborn streak didn’t only include not listening to him. Apparently, he struggled to listen to everyone. When Grogu failed to send the rock back to Ahsoka, the Jedi sighed.

Thoughtful, she took a step to the side. “Let’s try something else. Come over here.”

Din looked to the Child and tilted his head toward Ahsoka to try and get him to move. He didn’t.

“He’s stubborn.”

“Not him. You. I want to see if he’ll listen to you.”

He glanced over at Omera, who sat nearby with Winta, brushing back her daughter’s hair as they watched Grogu’s test in silence. They didn’t want to cause distraction for the kid.

“That would be a first,” Din remarked, lifting his brow in exasperation.

“I like firsts,” Ahsoka said with a wry smile. “Good or bad, they’re always memorable.” She handed him a fresh stone, wanting to start over. “Now, hold the stone out in the palm of your hand. Tell him to lift it up.”

He did as he was told, the rock placed delicately between his thumb and forefinger. “All right, kid. Lift the stone.”

The Child stared back at him, blinking. Apparently, he didn’t want to listen to him either.

“Grogu,” Ahsoka reminded him.

“Grogu…” Din repeated.

This time, Grogu’s ears perked up. It was clear he enjoyed hearing Din say his name. Might have to keep that in mind for later.

“Come on, take the stone.”

Din could tell that Grogu gave it an effort, but it was nothing compared to what he’d seen him do before. 

“You see?” He turned to face the Jedi and chucked the rock backward onto the ground again. It was useless. The kid didn't want to do it. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

“Try to connect with him.”

Connect with him… how? A thought occurred to him, one that made him smile slightly. The ball from the lever on the Crest seemed to get him to do what he wanted. Just like Omera had suggested: award him with something he wanted to earn his responsiveness.

Din reached into his belt to find the ball. He lifted it into his palm and then slid it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Grogu.” He waited to get the kid’s attention locked on him. He gestured to the ball with a nod. “Do you want this?” His ears perked. “Well, go ahead.”

The Child concentrated on pulling the ball from him. He could feel it. Something was happening. He was about to do this, wasn’t he? He could prove to them all that he could use the Force.

“That’s right, take it. Come on.” Din couldn’t help from smiling from beneath his helmet. He had faith in the kid. He’d seen him do so much… if Ahsoka only knew. “You can have it. Come on.”

In an instant, the ball soared through the air between them, landing directly in Grogu’s waiting palm. He couldn’t help the swell of pride within him. He nodded, moving toward the Child.

“Good job!” He felt the grin on his face spread. “Good job, kid. You see that? That’s right.”

Din caught Omera staring at him. She smiled in kind, just as proud of Grogu as he was.

The Child cooed, looking at him as if he was more excited about the affirmation than he was about having his ball in his hands again. When he approached Grogu on his perch, he knelt down. He offered Din the ball and he took it, unable to look away from him. He was always amazed when he saw the kid do his thing. There was no doubt that he had gifts.

“I knew you could do it. Very good.”

From behind them, the Jedi spoke, “It’s like I thought. He’s formed a strong attachment to you. I cannot train him.”

He knitted his brow, instantly upset, and whirled around. “What? Why not? You’ve seen what he can do.”

Ahsoka stared at the Child for a moment and then turned her attention up to him. “His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

The Jedi took a step towards him. “No. I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us. I will not start this child down that path. Better to let his abilities fade.” Ahsoka glanced toward Omera and Winta briefly. Then, she took a step backward as if she were prepared to leave. “I’ve delayed too long. I must get back to the village.”

The Jedi began on her path away from them, but Din knew he couldn’t let her go.

“The Magistrate sent me to kill you.” The Jedi pivoted on her heel to face him once more. “I didn’t agree to anything. And I’ll help you with your problem, if you see to it that Grogu is properly trained.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath as she considered the agreement. Together, they would make quite the team- one their enemies would never see coming. 

Having made up her mind, she nodded. “Then we should get moving.”

-

After an afternoon spent trudging through the dying forests of Corvus, Omera felt as if every ounce of energy she had was absolutely depleted. As they approached the Razor Crest, all at once, all she wanted was to curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep.

Din and Ahsoka had come up with a plan to solve the Jedi’s problem, but they would wait for morning before they would begin their siege. Until then, their group returned to the Crest in silence, listening to the sounds of their feet against the forest floor and a couple of creatures moaning in the distance.

“He’s worn out,” Din murmured as he adjusted his son in his arm.

Omera hummed. “Using the Force must tire him.”

The Mandalorian nodded in agreement. He was the first up the Razor Crest’s extended ramp. As he walked, he soothed Grogu with his palm over his belly. Omera couldn’t help but see the action as a vision from the future, where he carried their newborn in the very same way. The thought made her heart ache with longing.

Winta followed after the Mandalorian, but Omera lingered at the base of the ramp. She turned when she felt a set of eyes on her. Ahsoka studied her from nearby with a soft, unassuming smile on her face. 

She hadn’t realized that Ahsoka had followed them, but wasn’t surprised to see her. They’d spent the better part of the day together.

The Jedi approached, only slowing to a stop when they were close enough that their conversation would be kept private.

“I can feel your child,” Ahsoka said. She looked downward, a silent gesture to her middle. “It’s a boy. He’s strong. Healthy. Congratulations.”

Her heart raced wildly. How could she know? Was it the same way that Grogu knew?

“Thank you. But how do you…?”

Briefly, Ahsoka glanced up the ramp toward the inside of the Razor Crest. The Jedi was calm. Patient. 

“The Force is in all things.” With a small smile, she added, “Grogu sensed him too.”

Omera thought back to the experiences she’d shared with the boy, where he’d seemingly been able to sense the unborn without needing any prompting at all.

“I had a feeling.”

The Jedi took half a step backwards. “I’ll be back for the Mandalorian before dawn like we agreed. You should rest.”

Before she could respond, Ahsoka turned away. Omera shifted her focus upward to seek out her family within the Razor Crest. 

If what Ahsoka said was to be believed, she carried within her a boy. It was good to know that he was strong and healthy. Any worries she’d had about that could be put away. 

Absentmindedly, her palm fell over her middle and she gave the small bump a gentle caress. Joy filled her as she considered her unborn child. What would he look like? In what ways would he be like Din? The thoughts gave her heart a lot to ponder.

Inside the ship, she saw Din with Grogu at the sleeping nook while Winta watched on from a slight distance.

The Mandalorian lingered, hovering with his son as if he could make time freeze, and Omera looked to Winta again, whose sorrowful focus sat on Din. 

Winta knew they would have to say goodbye to the young Jedi soon. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them to let go of Grogu and see him step into his future, but there was hope in it. Grogu would one day be able to master his skills and return to them stronger than before. It wouldn’t last forever.

“Why don’t you set up our bed out here tonight, my love?” Omera asked her daughter with a gentle hand pressed to her arm.

Winta rubbed her eyes tiredly and nodded. “Okay.”

Their bed wasn’t much: a series of blankets and a single pillow they shared, but it was enough to make do. It was at least better than sleeping sitting up in the cockpit, even if the ground made her muscles ache just the same.

Omera went to Din and put her hand over his forearm, drawing his attention to her. “He isn’t going anywhere. Let him rest.”

“I never gave any thought to him leaving,” Din admitted in a quiet voice. “I always thought there would be more time.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Din sighed heavily. He finally pulled away from the hole in the wall. Their fingers tangled between them and she knew then that he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been with her.

This was difficult for him. She’d never seen him so conflicted about doing what was right before.

“Let’s try to get a few hours of sleep.”

Once the makeshift bed on the floor of the Razor Crest was completed, they pulled the ramp back up for protection from the creatures of the forest planet, and Omera settled in beside her daughter beneath a single blanket.

The Mandalorian lay out on his back beside them. The position made Omera feel tired in the most bone-aching way, but she turned to him anyway, and saw that he stared back at her.

He pulled his glove from his hand and she smiled when he sought out hers. This time, he traced lines into it, drawing over the creases and grooves of her palm like he could memorize her. 

Desperation filled her. She wished that they were alone so that she could tell him how she felt about him. That she loved him. That she was carrying his child- a boy. That the future they’d discussed just a night ago was more possible than they could even dream.

“Are you okay?” Omera asked in a whisper.

Din stopped his movements on her hand briefly at the question she posed and then continued, whispering in response, “I can’t teach him what he needs to know. This is the best path for him.”

His selflessness was one of the strongest parts of him, but she knew it didn’t sit as easily as he made it sound. This was hard. He and Grogu were a clan of two. They’d formed an unbreakable bond.

“But are you okay?” Omera asked again.

The Mandalorian hesitated.

“I’ve grown to care for him as my own.” Din’s voice was quieter than before; timid. “He’s… my son.” 

His words brought tears to her eyes. She forced him to stop tracing lines into her skin and reached up to take his hand in hers instead.

“One day, you will look back on this moment and remember the hurt, but then see the good that came from it and realize that it was well worth it all.” She smiled a little. “My mother told me that years and years ago.”

Din’s fingers tightened around hers, but he said nothing. 

“She was so… wonderful. She would’ve loved you.” Omera smiled at the thought of her mother meeting the Mandalorian. She’d probably laugh that bright laugh of hers and challenge every word that he spoke. “She always told me I would find a man one day with stars in his eyes to match all of my ambitions.”

“Did you?”

She stared at Din for a moment. Her heart skipped a beat, frantic even though she knew the answer without needing even a second to think. Although she had never seen his face, she knew that she had indeed found a man with stars in his eyes.

“Yes. I found you.”

He released a soft breath- almost a gasp of surprise, like he couldn’t believe she felt this way for him.

“Every hardship that’s happened in my life led me straight to you,” Omera continued. “And I don’t regret any of it because meeting you… being with you…” She smiled more, admiring the Mandalorian in the darkness. “It’s made me so much stronger. I’m sure Grogu feels the same.”

When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile, “You’ve made me stronger, too.”

-

His mission with Ahsoka was a rousing success. 

The townspeople were freed of their oppressive government, Ahsoka was free to do as she pleased, and to top it all off, he now had a spear of full beskar to add to his assortment of weapons on board the Crest.

But, it was the end. The Jedi wanted to see the Child, and she would take him to train him in the ways of their kind. 

Slowly, Din climbed the ramp up to check on the sleeping boy. Once he stood in the cargo hold, he discovered that Omera and Winta sat out waiting for his return.

Omera had a sorrowful look in her eyes that Winta mirrored. 

“Is it done?” Omera asked.

He nodded his head once. “I need to bring him to her now.”

His stomach twisted sourly. If this was goodbye, he needed to make it quick. They’d both get over this, in time.

“Winta, let’s go sit in the cockpit,” Omera suggested quietly. She seemed so aware of what he needed: time alone with the kid.

Without needing any other push, Winta and Omera went up the ladder to the cockpit, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the child he’d fought to protect time and time again.

Din approached the hammock and realized he couldn’t be upset when he found that he was still asleep. He nudged the hammock, trying to wake him peacefully. 

“Wake up, buddy,” he murmured. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Grogu stirred, his eyes opening briefly, but sleep found him again, and Din sighed softly with a smile on his lips. 

Eventually, Grogu whined and Din took the opportunity to lift him into his arms. Leaning back against the nook, he stared down at his son. Grogu took his finger and held it. His eyes opened a little bit more this time.

“Hey, Grogu.” Din grinned when Grogu’s ears perked at the sound of his name. “Hey, kid.”

Grogu hummed and his eyes slid shut, but Din didn’t begrudge him for wanting more rest. Instead, he held his son tighter and wished that the moment could last longer.

After a couple of minutes that stretched into dozens more, Grogu finally flexed his fingers into his palms and opened his eyes once more. 

“You ready now, buddy?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promised I’d take you to a Jedi… so, that’s what I’m gonna do. Okay?”

The Child stared at him blankly.

“You don’t belong with me. You belong with your kind.” It felt like a lie. “It’s time to go.”

He brought the Child away from the sleeping nook slowly. Stopping at a nearby crate, he prepared him for the small journey to town. Fussing over him seemed to come naturally, he mused, and he began to wonder if it was instinct.

Just as he was about ready to take Grogu back to Ahsoka, he turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. It seemed he didn’t need to go back to town after all.

Din lifted the Child into his arm again and allowed him to hold onto two of his fingers as he descended the ramp to get closer to the Jedi. 

“You’re like a father to him,” Ahsoka said gently. With a deep, steadying breath, she looked from Grogu and back up at Din. “I cannot train him.”

He hadn’t come all this way to hear such a thing, but there was hope that beat idly within him anyway. Maybe, if she just saw the kid do one more Jedi thing. Maybe if he could show her what he did to the Mudhorn...

“You made me a promise, and I held up my end.”

Ahsoka’s gaze shifted to Grogu and she took a few steps forward as she thought about something. She reached out to rub a finger over the Child's.

“There is one possibility. Go to the planet Tython.” She looked up at Din. “There you will find the ancient ruins of a temple that has a strong connection to the Force. Place Grogu on the seeing stone at the top of the mountain.”

“Then what?”

“Then Grogu may choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” The Jedi folded her arms against her chest. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Grogu babbled sadly. 

She looked up at Din again, as if she could sense something. Her gaze shifted once more, to the ship just beyond him. Turning, he saw Omera standing at the top of the ramp on her own, watching the exchange. 

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka took a step backwards, away from the Crest, and lifted a hand. “May the Force be with you.”

Din held Grogu just a little bit tighter as he turned away from Corvus and the Jedi on the ground. Omera gave him a tender smile and reached out to touch his arm as the door sealed itself shut.

“Guess there’s still at least one more stop. Tython.”

She nodded. “I heard.”

Together, he and Omera made their way back up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest. In silence and with a comfortable ease, he settled Grogu into Winta’s open arms and climbed into the pilot’s chair to begin preparations for takeoff. 

They would have one more stop on this journey. It almost seemed like it would never end, but part of him was glad that they had more time. 

Fear of the unknown path ahead of him could be pushed aside for a few more days, until the Jedi came for the kid. Then, Din would have to decide where the path was and what he would do next. 

Once they broke the atmosphere into space, he heard Omera shift. Her chair squeaked just a little as it pivoted.

“Winta, would you please take Grogu with you down below? I need to talk to Din.”

His heart leapt. She wanted to speak with him alone? What for?

He turned around to face his passengers. Omera nodded gently to her daughter, silently asking her to leave. The girl stood to her feet with Grogu tucked beneath her arms and stepped out of the cockpit.

Once the door slid closed behind the children, Din focused on Omera.

“What’s going on?”

In her eyes, he saw something he’d seen a few times before: her secret. 

She was interrupted by Winta the last time she almost told him. Now, they wouldn’t have any interruptions. 

“I said I would tell you something when we found the Jedi. Can I tell you now?”

He swallowed the freshly formed lump in his throat and nodded just barely enough to be registered. 

“Yes.”

Omera sat forward in her seat with her hands clasped together in her lap. She seemed confident, but at the same time, he saw nervousness in the way she breathed. She silently debated what to say before speaking, and when she did, she kept her focus on him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you since you came to Sorgan, but I keep getting tongue tied.” A soft, tender look filled her features. “I’m expecting a baby.”

His heart leapt and his stomach lurched. “You’re…”

She straightened out in her seat and settled her hand against her midsection, revealing to him a gentle swell of her belly.

How had he not noticed? How had he not noticed?

Looking away from her hand over her body, Omera met his gaze once more. 

“Ahsoka told me that she could feel him in the Force.” An excited smile spread wide, crinkling beside her eyes with the purest form of joy. “She said it’s a boy. He’s healthy and strong.” 

A baby. A boy. Omera was pregnant. 

How had he not noticed?

Din felt almost lightheaded as the brunt of the reality of it hit him with full force. She had been with him for a few weeks and hadn’t uttered a word about it to him. 

Should he be offended? Concerned? Angry? Happy?

How the hell had he not noticed?

Moments from their time traveling together flashed through his mind one after the next. Near-death experience after near-death experience. Danger after danger. Fight after fight. 

Guilt cascaded over him in a hard wave. 

Omera’s smile faded as time ticked on. “I know it must be surprising for you to learn. I was surprised when I found out, too. I didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to have another child. He’s already changed my life so much.”

As much as he wanted to be happy for Omera as her friend, there were so many darker thoughts in the way of that. He was angry that he’d put her into situations that were so risky. Angry that she hadn’t told him the truth beforehand. 

Angry at the betrayal he felt for loving someone who didn’t feel the same. There wasn’t any chance that he had anything to do with her child after only one night with her. There must have been someone else. Right? 

He closed his eyes and his head fell. He didn’t know how to ask her if she was committed to another without breaking his own heart.

“Is…” He paused, hating the way his voice cracked. “Is it... mine?”

“Oh,” she gasped out of surprise, “Din, yes, of course.” Her voice was breathless, weighed down with a sense of relief. “How could I have been with someone else?”

His heart rate doubled at her admission. She hadn’t been with another. He was the one Winta had told him about on Trask: the one her heart chose. It wasn’t a surprise to him, but it did fill in some of the uncertainties he felt. 

“Omera, you could’ve been hurt. You could’ve…” 

His chest began to heave. The thought of losing Omera hurt more than even the thought of losing Grogu.

“I knew what I was getting into coming with you, Din.”

“I know, but I didn’t know that you were-” Din cut himself off when he realized his voice was raised. He sighed heavily. “I put you in danger.”

She shook her head swiftly. “I don’t blame you for any of it. We’re all okay.”

He couldn't shake the anger off of him for putting her in danger. It had been part of the agreement when she came along, but she hadn't told him ahead of time about her child. He could've done more to keep her safe.

“When we were still on Sorgan, you could have told me.”

Omera's focus went to her lap for a moment. “I didn’t know if telling you would’ve made you want to stay. I didn’t want it to force you to. You are on a path with Grogu to find his kind. A path I wasn’t on until you asked me to come with you.”

His chest began to ache when he realized just how much she cared for him. Without knowing how he felt for her, he imagined it would have been difficult to admit her secret to him. Allowing him to continue on his path for the Jedi had been a selfless act, even if it may have been a shortsighted one.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” There was a worried frown on her lips and her eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, but she didn’t beg or plead. “If this changes how you feel about me, about our future… I understand. I haven’t been honest with you.”

Suddenly, she stood up in front of him. She took one of his hands into hers and settled it over her middle. He could feel the curve of her body. It was so very real.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt hot, as if the armor he wore was suffocating him, but it was the only thing keeping him from absolutely breaking down.

“This child is yours. If you want him.”

At her words, the weight of the day came crashing down on him. He’d almost had to let go of the kid, and now he had so much more than he thought he’d ever be given. 

Somehow, he’d been given Omera. Beautiful, kind, gentle, Omera. And after just one night together, he’d been given a child. His own flesh and blood. A boy, if the Jedi was right. His son.

“If not…” Omera managed a weak smile and lifted a shoulder. “That’s okay. Winta and I can return to Sorgan. I’ll keep the baby safe and he’ll be loved. You can visit if you want to.”

Din stared at her from behind the haze of his visor and suddenly, it felt like he was playing a game. Wearing his armor in front of Omera felt like a child’s game. What purpose did it serve him to cover his face from her?

She was his equal. The one his heart belonged to. The one who carried his child. 

If there were Mandalorians who didn’t need to wear their helmets in order to stay faithful to the creed, he could bend the rules and step across the line for Omera. Of everyone in the universe, she deserved to know him wholly.

He pulled his hand away from her body and decisively stood so that they were on equal footing. She stared up at him with an edge of uncertainty in the depths of her eyes.

The last thing he wanted was for her to be unsure about how he felt about her, or about their future. 

Din settled both hands on either side of his helmet. Slowly, he lifted it from his head and lowered it to rest on the console beside him. 

With the helmet removed, he could breathe freely. Cool air entered his lungs through his nose in deep, steady breaths that he forced himself to take. 

All at once, he felt just as terrifyingly bare and exposed as he had on Nevarro with the IG unit. Anxious and self-conscious thoughts flooded his mind, but he quieted them when his focus settled on her.

Somehow, she was more beautiful to him, seen without obstruction. He could see more clearly the roundness of her belly, a sign of his child growing within her, and cursed himself again for not seeing it any sooner.

Omera seemed overwhelmed by his choice to remove his helmet- just as much as he was. Unshed tears gathered in her eyes and the softest gasp escaped her parted lips.

“I love you, Omera.” His voice was barely a whisper. It embarrassed him, how fragile he sounded, but she could see him as he was, truly, and it was everything all at once.

Hesitantly, she reached out for him with one hand. Her fingers were cool when they ever so softly grazed his cheek and his eyes shut instantly at the feeling. Invisible sparks lit up on his skin like fireworks that made his heart jump in surprise.

Slowly, her fingers slid upwards, until her palm rested over his cheek, and he leaned his weight into her hand. He opened his eyes again to meet her gaze. 

Omera tilted her head and offered him a tender smile, just as fragile as he felt. “I love you too, Din.”

As if she knew it was too much to handle all at once, she lowered her hand away from his face and settled it against her middle instead.

Everything felt different. Everything felt new. Changed. The world he’d made for himself had been shattered in the best, most terrifying way. He and Omera were going to have a baby. They were going to be a family.

He took a moment to admire her, each pretty eyelash, every freckle, each breath she took that lifted her chest. It was different, in a good way, seeing her so freely. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need anything? Do you feel sick?”

Omera laughed out of surprise. “No, I’m fine.” She soothed a hand over her bump. “The worst of the sickness is over.” With a soft sigh, she added, “I feel so much better now that you know, too.”

There would be so much that they’d have to decide. Where they would go. What they would do next. How they would raise the kids. But all he could think about was her, and how he wished he could give her the entire universe.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He shook his head, unsure what she meant. “About what?”

“This is a lot all at once… I would understand if you were overwhelmed.” She drew in a breath and averted her gaze, looking instead at the floor. “The day you left Sorgan, I thought it might have been partly because of me… because you weren’t sure what to do-”

He settled his hands over her hips and Omera timidly peered up at him.

“It is the Way to have a family,” Din told her. “Children are important. I didn’t think I’d ever have any of my own, though. It’s easier to travel alone.”

She nodded in understanding. Hope shined in her eyes brighter than it had before. “It was meant to be.” Her smile spread. “I’m so excited to meet him. I think he’ll be a lot like you.”

He felt his eyes grow wide with even the thought. It was hard to wrap his mind around the idea of what their child would look like, or act like. It was different for Omera. She’d had the experience with Winta and knew what to expect. 

“I hope he’s more like you. Not me.”

Omera tilted her head with an affectionate smile. “We’ll see soon enough.”

His hands shifted on her hips and he squeezed as his thoughts shifted to the path that laid ahead of them. The Jedi had told him to take Grogu to Tython. Could he do that now? Did Omera want to do that now?

“Should we go back to Sorgan?” he asked. “If Gideon’s after the kid, it’s dangerous traveling with me.”

Omera frowned. She pressed both hands against his heart and he reached up to hold each hand, almost instinctively. 

“We found the Jedi, but the journey isn’t over.”

“No.” He searched her eyes and thought about the way Grogu had so easily accepted Omera into his life. “You’re like a mother to him.”

“I know. I’ve felt it too.” Omera softened some. “If you want to take us to Sorgan, we’ll be alright waiting for you to come home to us.”

Home. He’d had to find his home on the Razor Crest the past few months, with the kid. Now, he’d have to figure out what home looked like with Omera, Winta, and, eventually, a newborn.

Overwhelmed, he lowered the crown of his head to hers and shut his eyes. She reached up to the back of his head and threaded her fingers through his hair, her fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp as she went.

As he considered next steps, he knew that he needed to be careful, but Omera had proven herself capable in dangerous situations. She’d been an active participant in several fights, eager to help in whatever way she could, all while secretly pregnant. He’d become stronger because of her help. Together, they were a powerful team.

If what Ahsoka told him was the final step in finding a Jedi that could train Grogu, there wouldn’t be much left to their journey. And if Gideon was out there, they could work together to protect what was theirs.

“You should come with us,” he told her. “Grogu would like that.”

“And when it’s over, what will we do?”

He shook his head. “We’ll… figure it out. We’ll be a family. All of us. If that’s what you want.”

Din pulled back from her just enough to meet her eyes. She lowered her palm to his face again and caressed his cheek with her thumb.

“I want that very much.”

It filled him with so much hope knowing that she loved him.

“Me too.”

A happy smile found her lips. “I'm glad.”

Their eyes locked in a way that they hadn’t since that night on Sorgan, with a silent fire burning within each of them. He couldn’t help the thought that came to him next: he could kiss her if he wanted to.

He had never kissed anyone in his life, but something about the moment made it feel right. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. 

It almost felt like time itself slowed to a stop. Maybe it did. Just for them. 

Pulling back, he kept his eyes shut and put his forehead against hers. Omera’s hand gently found his neck. 

“You have given me so much,” she murmured with regret in her tone. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your creed as well. I never saw your face. Put your helmet back on.”

Din shook his head. He pulled away so their eyes could meet. “I want you to know me like this.”

Omera still seemed hesitant. Her fingers caressed his face, running over the curves and lines of him as if she wanted to memorize what he looked like. Each touch felt like a reviving spark that lit his heart up with the brightest light.

She pulled her hand from his face when she was done.

“There was a time I believed I would have been content never seeing your face.” Her dimples popped when she smiled at him. “But I’ll admit that I’m thankful I know who you are beneath.”

His heart leapt. “Does it give you hope that our child won’t be a monster?”

Omera’s gaze fell to her middle and the smile on her face spread. She laughed and it was one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard.

“I wasn’t worried, but… yes.”

Din admired Omera again. She was everything to him. 

When he lifted his helmet into his hands, it felt strangely heavy. He hesitated with it, studying Omera one last time unobstructed by the visor’s haze.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Having heard her voice once more, saying those precious words, he resolved that it was time to put the helmet back on, so he did. 

He didn’t know what the future held for him other than what stood before him. The idea had scared him before, the uncertainty of what he’d do once the Child was safe with his kind, but now, a different fear found him.

Would he be able to live as a Mandalorian within this newfound family? Could he provide for them? Keep them safe? 

No matter where he would find his path leading him, he could only hope that he would be enough for Omera. For Winta. For his child.

[cocochannel00]

Divorce Papers

Sometimes it can all get a little too much being the wife of Harry Styles... 

Kids: Connor (2), Rebecca/Becca (1)

You couldn't lie to yourself anymore. Harry had been touring for the last 5 month and you were at home with two kids under the age of 3. He rarely called, barley visited home, and was always being photographed and big glitzy parties with a bunch of supermodels. At first, you didn't worry, you and Harry were married after all so there really was no worry, but as time went by you became more and more anxious about the situation. His calls went from daily to once a week at most. At first, you thought it was just the jet lag or the time zones that made it difficult but after hearing from him once in a matter of weeks and being forced to text Jeff to get updates on your husband’s whereabouts, you there was a problem.

You understood it was his job to go tour across the world wherever they sent him but you also knew that Harry was responsible for being a father to your children and that was one thing he was not fulfilling. It was always hard to raise toddlers so close in age but when you have to raise them alone because your husband is MIA, the situation could only get worse from there. Luckily Connor always slept through the night, but Becca would start screaming every few hours with no one to help you, it was starting to take a toll on you. Gemma, Harry's sister, tried to make up for her brother’s absence but it wasn't the same.

You were starting to think your marriage was crumbling. Your friends always said it was going to be hard as marrying a celebrity always came with a high price but you had always believed that love conquers all, although this idea was starting to slip away. You had spent the last 5 months thinking strongly on how to fix this problem but you soon realized that Harry had put in zero effort and went on as if nothing was wrong. This always led to the question, Is it even worth fixing at this point? You didn't know but you would soon find out.

After waking up to your alarm clock going off at 8:00 a.m. you rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up an pee. Becca had just begun teething and you were nearly at your wits end having to cuddle her to bed every 2 hours. You manage to avoid waking her up as you crept downstairs to make yourself some breakfast peacefully before Gemma came over to spend the day with you and your kids. You started brewing some coffee as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open. Putting some bread in the toaster you sat at your island in silence, contemplating moving whether to move at all from that spot all day. As you sat there you suddenly heard feet hitting the floor upstairs as your son slowly made his way down the stair.

"Connor, what are you doing up buddy?" You asked as you picked him up in your arms, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"breakfast mama," he said in his broken English as he pointed at his high chair.

"Ok buddy let's get you something to eat," you said as you grabbed a box of Cheerios and some milk, pouring it all into a bowl. Your doorbell rang just as you finished finding him a spoon and placing a bib around his neck.

Slowly you walk over to the door revealing Gemma standing there with a bag of pastries and chocolate donut (Connor’s favorite).

"Well you look like shit," she said as she walked past you. You rolled your eyes and followed her, closing the door on the way in.

She removed the bowl of cheerios from his table and placed the donut down in-front of Connor as he clapped happily.

Gemma placed a kiss on his forehead before turning around to look at you, "still no call?" She asked quietly. 

That had been the million-dollar question for the past two and a half weeks. No call, no text, no word from Harry. You heard nothing about how the tour was going or when he would have his next break. He had essentially cut off all communications and it was ruining you slowly.

You shook your head looking away, trying not to cry about Harry's lack of presence. Gemma swore under her breath and came up to you, giving you a tight hug.

"(Y/n) I know how bad this is and I know how much you love Harry but you can't keep going like this. You've reached your breaking point and this has become an unhealthy relationship. I love my brother with all my heart and I don’t know why he’s doing this but as your friend, I can’t see you like this"

She was right. You had lost at least 10 pounds from the stress and anxiety that Harry was causing you and you knew it needed to come to an end.

"I know but I don't know what to do. I love him, but I can't reach him. I'm basically losing my mind and I don't know how to stop it all" you stated.

She stayed quiet for a minute before quietly asking, "have you thought about a divorce at all?"

In truth you had a couple of times before when it was three in the morning and Becca would scream out for her daddy and you knew there was nothing you could do, but it always felt too extreme.

"Yeah it's crossed my mind a couple times...... but I could never do it I don't think. I love him so much and I can't be alone again, I really can't." You whispered as your eyes began to gloss over.

Gemma wrapped her arms around you tightly. "Shhh, it's going to be ok. Tell you what why don't you come with the kids to my house for a bit and stay there so you’re not alone. I can talk to Michal and see if his friend John can draft up some divorce papers with you... nothing to sign but just to see what it would entail. Did you guys sign a prenup at all? " she asked as you wipe your tears with the edge of your sleeves.

You shook your head, “No, I offered to sign one for him but he refused. Regardless, I don’t want his money, that’s not why I married him”

“I know love, I know. It complicates the situation a bit but nothing that can’t be dealt with later. Besides, you know Harry is going to give you at least half of his earnings if not more regardless of if you want it. He worries about you.” Gemma adds.

“I wish he would at least talk to me if he’s so worried” you mumbled as you heard cries come from the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Let’s take it one step at a time. I’ll call Michal and why don’t you go get Becca” Gemma stated as you went over to wipe the chocolate off of Connor's giddy face as you made your way up the stairs. 

You slowly entered Becca’s room and greeted her with a soft ‘good morning’ as you reached her arms out to you from her crib. You smiled at your baby girl who had seemed to have woken up in a better mood than yesterday. You battle with Becca down the stairs as she attempts to take off your shirt by swatting at your boob (a sign that she’s hungry). 

"Connor says he wants to have a sleepover with me so it has been decided that you’re all staying over at my house” Gemma cheered as Connor giggled in her arms. 

“Gemma, really it’s ok. I don’t want to burden you or Michal” you replied

"Nonsense! Michal loves having these little gremlins and you around. I’ll take Connor up with me and we’ll start packing a bag for him while you feed Rebecca. We have the crib from when Michal’s godson stayed with us a couple of weeks ago so we can move that into the guestroom for you. I'll go call Michal and tell him to come help and we'll be ready in no time!" she said began to make her way upstairs.

"Ok, thanks Gem” you replied as you sat down on the couch with your fussy baby, getting ready to feed her. 

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

*6 hours later*

After changing Becca and double-checking that you had your purse, you and Gemma got into your car and made the 20-minute drive to Gemma and Michal’s house. Michal being the angel that he is had offered to bring all the bags in his car and drive them over. By the time you got to their house, all your bags were set up in the guest room and the crib Rebecca would be sleeping in was set up in the corner of the room. 

After you had all settled in, Gemma took Connor outside to play in the sprinkler while Becca took a nap upstairs. You sat in the living room with Michal as he began to explain the papers his friend had drafted for you. 

"I'm not gonna lie, this is going to be a long process that will bring out the worst in both of you. Custody will be a major part as well as splitting of assets and money."

You shook your head "I don't want any money. I didn't marry him for money so I'm not going to divorce him for any" you stated

He nodded as he began correcting the forms and continued to explain the legal process as well as the custody procedures. After almost two hours of staring at twenty pages of legal papers, you were finally starting to understanding it all (sort of). Rebecca had woken up ten minutes ago and was now sitting on your lap moving her head every time her name was mentioned. Gemma had brought Connor inside and helped him take a bath and they were watching a movie in her room as you and Michal finished up. You were going over the final details when the doorbell rang. Gemma got up from the couch and went to open it when you suddenly heard some shouting and a pair of rough footsteps heading towards the living room.

You looked up to see none other the Harry who looked both worried and furious at the same time.

"I came home expecting to see my children and wife but I come home to an empty house and a note saying you were gone" he shouted as you sat there in shock, seeing your husband for the first time in months. 

Rebecca whined softly as she became irritated from the loud boom of Harry's voice. Michal quickly stood and rested his hand on your shoulder signaling that he would take Becca upstairs so we could talk. You carefully passed Rebecca off to Michal as Connor came barreling towards Harry. 

“Dada Dada” Connor shouted as his chubby body knocked right into Harry’s legs. 

“Hi baby, I’ve missed you” he replied as he picked up Connor in his arms and showered him with kisses. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself Harry Edward Styles. If mom were here right now she’d have an absolute fit at your behavior. You’re so lucky (Y/n) won’t let me tell her because she would have flown out to whoop your ass. Come on Connor want to go watch the wiggles upstairs” Gemma stated as she grabs Connor from Harry’s arms. 

“wiggles wiggles” Connor cheered as Gemma and Michal carried your kids upstairs.

“If you so much as yell at her Harry I will murder you” Gemma yelled from the top of the stairs. 

Once they were gone you slowly got up from the couch and cleaned up all the papers scattered around the coffee table. As you began placing them in a folder Harry snatched them and began reading through them.

"Divorce papers? Are you serious? I've been gone for my job, a job I have to support you and the kids, and you want to divorce me for it?" He questioned as his anger started to bubble up.

You sighed, "that's not the reason Harry and you know it. It was just an idea Gemma had mentioned so I was looking into it. Besides, I would be divorcing you for neglecting not only me but our family for the last 5 months. Harry, I love you but this isn’t right"

"I had to work (Y/n), what part of that did you not understand?" he shouted as he dropped the papers on the floor. 

"The part where you stop calling your family for months and spend your spare time on yachts with supermodels instead of coming to see your children. I shouldn’t have to ask your manager how you’re doing, you should be telling me" you yell back

He chuckles angrily, "Is that what this is about, you think I cheated? I didn't, but if that’s what you want I'll get right on it? Would that solve your problems?" He replied sarcastically.

Your eyes began to water at the idea Harry described and you pressed your fingers to your eyes as to prevent yourself from crying in front of him. " Harry I love you but if that's how you truly feel then maybe we shouldn't have gotten married in the first place" you stated

"Maybe you're right" he stated as he turns around and stomps towards the kitchen. You let out a shaky breath as you watch him leave. This was not the way you thought your day was going to turn out. 

You began picking up the divorce papers as you hear a cry come from upstairs. Carefully you wipe the tears from your eyes and started to make your way up to go get Becca. You walked into the master bedroom to find Connor fast asleep on Michal’s lap while Gemma attempts to calm Becca down by rocking her back and forth in the corner.

When they spot you in the doorway, Michal gives you a sympathetic smile while Gemma’s frown deepens. You smile in return and pick up Becca from Gemma's arms and walk out of the room. You go to the guest room quickly to grab her favorite blanket and walked downstairs. You can hear Harry pacing in the kitchen, the pile of divorce papers missing from the floor most likely with him. You cautiously made your way to the glass door in the back of the living room and stepped outside into the slightly chilly night, bundling yourself and Becca up in the plush purple blanket Harry had bought Becca when she was born. You turned on the patio light and made your way to Gemma's garden to the small swing standing in the middle of it. 

You stay there crying as you rock Becca to sleep in your arms. A while later you heard footsteps slowly approach the garden and feel the weight of the swing shift as someone sits next to you. You don't dare look up as the smell of cologne gives away that it's Harry. He clears his throat a couple of times before speaking.

"Why wouldn't you take any of my money?" He asked quietly as he folded the divorces papers

You wiped your tears slowly and took a deep breath before responding, "because I didn't marry you for your money so why should I divorce you and get it. I married you because I love you"

"You need the support. I would give you all the money in a heartbeat you know that" he mumbled back

"I have a job and some savings, I could support myself and our kids" you stated. You heard him grunt as he flipped through the pages.

"Custody battle? Do you think it would come to that?" He asked quietly as you saw his shoulders shake.

"My babies are my everything....... I can't lose them like I already lost you" you stated as you caressed Becca's cheek.

"You didn’t lose- were you actually going to sign these?" He asked, voice cracking as you watched his hands begin to shake. 

"No" you replied back, barely louder than a whisper. 

Harry let out a breath and timidly let's go of the papers placing them on the ground before wrapping his arm around you carefully.

The minute your head hit his chest you began to cry. Harry quickly took Becca out of your arms and into his chest as you clung to him, sobbing into his shirt. He caressed his free hand up and down your back and placed chase kisses onto your forehead as he whispered sweet words and apologies to you.

You sobs slowly became sniffles as you wrapped your arms around yourself, leaving your head to lean on Harry's shoulders.

"Baby I’m so unbelievably sorry. I didn’t know it had gotten this bad. Why didn't you tell me you felt this way? With all the shows and starting to record the new album, I forgot about the most important thing in my life." He asked as he rubbed circles into your back.

You twiddled with your fingers, "I could never reach you. Every time I tried to call you were busy so I thought, ok he can just call me, but then your calls just got shorter and then they just stopped. I took it as you were busy but even when you had a couple days off you wouldn't come visit. You had basically broken off from us, Harry. I didn't know what to do. I spent most days with Gemma and most nights with a crying Becca keeping me up because all she wanted was her Dada singing her to sleep. I had to play your albums every night to try and get her to calm down and every time your voice played through the speaker, I died inside. It was all too much for me. I was alone Harry and you were nowhere to be found. I want my husband back. I want the man I fell in love with four years ago that use to wake up at 5 am halfway across the globe just to wish me goodnight. I want the man that cried at our wedding as I walked down the aisle. I want the man that tries to sneak chocolate chips into Connor’s pancakes while I’m not watching just to make his baby boy smile. I want my Harry back." you replied as you stared at the ground.

Harry stiffened as you finished speaking. He slowly lifted your chin up to meet your eyes. You could see tears falling down from his eyes as he looked straight at you. You could tell he was hurting and just the thought of him breakdown was making you shatter into a million pieces. You carefully got up from the swing a grabbed Becca from his arms before tucking her head into the nook of your neck as you cautiously sat down on Harry's laps. Harry let out a loud breath before he carefully wrapped his arms around your frame and staring straight into your eyes. 

"I’m right here baby, I’m still your Harry. I love you so much and just the thought of losing you and my babies hurts me more than a bullet ever could. I'm sorry I didn't call but I was so homesick that I figured it would be easier on both of us if I just kept my distance. I figured the check-ins with Jeff would be enough. I know that’s no excuse but I promise baby I’ll be better.  I love you so so much you have no idea (Y/n). I promise I'll be better for you and for our kids just please don't leave me" he said as he hugged you tighter causing a sob to escape your lips.

"I love you too H" you state in between sobs. You both sat there for a while until you had stopped crying. Cautiously Harry lifted your face to look at him.

"Can I rip up those papers when we get back?" He asked timidly as he stared at you.

You nodded furiously and quickly pulled him into a deep kiss. You pulled away breathless as you lean your forehead against his.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it that far. I should have just waited to talk with you before asking Michal about them and I..." you tried to continue but Harry stopped you with a kiss.

"Shhh we're going to get through this baby” He whispered as he caressed your hair. 

“We need to go to therapy, Harry. This was a big deal and I don’t think we can slip this under the rug and get back to where we were without it” You mumbled into his neck. 

“Of course (Y/n). I’ll go to therapy every day for the next thirty years if it means I get to keep you and my babies with me. I'm going to be better for you and for the kids. I'm going to take you all on tour with me from today on and were going to work through this. Now, why don't we head in it starting to get pretty cold." He stated as carefully helped you up while making sure Becca was wrapped up tightly in her blanket. You snuggled deeper into Harry's side and nodded your head as the two of you walked into the house once more.

Gemma and Michal sat on the couch talking quietly to each other as the tv played in the background They looked up at the two of you cautiously. Harry quickly kissed your head and grabbed Becca before taking her upstairs to bed.

You carefully grabbed one of the four full wine glasses on the coffee table and sat on the love seat next to the fire hoping to warm up a bit. Gemma starred at you as you sat there. You knew she was dying to know what happened outside, but she was too kind to ask.

"I think we're going to be ok" you state as you wrap the blanket closer to your chest. Gemma gets up and gives you a big hug.

“You’re not letting him off the hook are you?” she asked sternly.

“No, he’s not off the hook. We’re going to start therapy and we’re going to take things slow. He said he’s going to be home more and that he’s going to take us on tour with him from now on but we’ll see. One day at a time” you mumbled as you took a sip from your glass

"I'm glad it all worked out but if he hurts you again, family or not, I'll kick his ass. No one disrespects my (Y/n)" she said seriously. You laughed and simply nodded your head as you heard Harry's footsteps down the stairs.

"Thanks for watching Connor," Harry said as he shook Michal's hand and kissed the top of Gemma's head as she made her way to the spot next to her husband.

"Anytime. He is so adorable and quiet" Michal gushed.

You smiled softly and moved over slightly in your seat, making room for Harry. Harry carefully picked you up from the love seat and sat down, placing you on his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you, burying his head into your neck. 

The four of you spent the rest of the night watching tv quietly as you cuddled in the loveseat, Harry stealing sips from your wine glass as you try your hardest not to fall asleep. After a while, Gemma and Michal said their goodnights and headed up to their room as Harry carefully picked you up and carried you to the guest room. He slowly laid you on the bed and removed all of your clothes except your underwear before taking off his shirt and helping you place your arms in the sleeves. He tucked you into bed and quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants before grabbing a pillow and getting ready to spend the night on the floor. He didn’t want to overstep and end the day on the wrong note but the minute he heard you call his name he smiled. He quickly checked on Becca that was fast asleep in her crib while Connor slept peacefully in the small bed laid out next to your bed. He gave both of them a quick kiss on the cheek before carefully sliding into bed behind you.

 You curled your body into Harry's and sighed contently as he wrapped his arms around you. You heard a faint "I love you, baby, so much" from Harry as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time in months, you were able to sleep through the night and you couldn't be happier.

Wow, it’s been a long time but I hope ya’ll enjoyed this one!!

Masterlist

[ifliamsmile]

I’m with you on this - Dick Grayson Imagine

Summary/Request: MarvelxDC crossover where Yn Stark finds out she’s pregnant with Dick’s baby and they need to give the news to her father, Tony and the avengers.

pairing: Dick Grayson x Titan!Stark!Reader

notes: Anony, thank you for requesting, hope you like it xxxx

You woke up groaning at the weird feeling in your stomach; it didn't even give you time to think when you found yourself running to the bathroom where you ended up throwing up.  You looked at the mirror and saw a pale version of yourself and you got scared. You returned to your room and noticed that your boyfriend wasn't there.

You took a look at the clock to see that  it was later than you used to wake up, that’s why Dick wasn’t in bed with you. All those years and you still couldn't understand how Dick managed to wake up so early.

You checked your messages to see that he left you one saying he left with Hank and should be back soon. So you went to take a shower trying to remember if you ate something that could be the cause of your sickness, and then it hit you.

You were 4 weeks late. You should be on your period by now but you never really paid attention to it, blaming it to you being so busy. You showered quickly and went to the nearest pharmacy.

You thanked god for not bumping into someone on your way out of the tower.

---

You entered the store already sweating because you almost run your way there. You stood in front of the pregnancy test and there were so many options. You were getting nauseous all over again.

You took 5 tests.

You paid  quickly and made your way back to the Tower.

--

You locked yourself  into your room trying not to think too much until you saw the results, but it was impossible. You were terrified.

What if you ruined Dick’s life? What if he didn’t want this now? What would you do? And your father, Christ, your father. The fact that you were Y/n Stark made things more complicated that you’d like to admit. 

You were his only child and he was completely attached to you. You’d always be “his little girl.”

You followed your father’s steps when you became a hero, but you decided to do it far from him so you would have your own life and take your own decisions, so you moved to San Francisco, where you met Dick and eventually, the Titans. 

It was love at first sight.Really. You met one of the most selfless and incredible man you’ve ever met and to top that his team was incredible too.

It wasn’t hard for you, but completely difficult to your Father to accept that his daughter was now living with a man that was not him.  it didn’t matter how many times Steve or Pepper tried to convince him that he was Batman’s son and a good guy, he was still a worried about your wellbeing.  

So he let you move in with Dick, but always kept an eye on you both. Dick feared your father to death, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

You couldn’t blame him, after all,  you remembered very well when 3 years ago, Tony threatened to kill him if something ever happen to you, and Dick took it very serious remaining scared of him until these days.

You stopped thinking and went to the bathroom, you wanted to believe that it was just your mind and body playing tricks on you, but with everything that’s been going on protection was the last thing on yours and Dick’s mind.

You tried the first one. Positive. 

You tried the second one. Positive; your hands were trembling and your lip quivered trying to contain a sob.

When the fifth one also tested positive you were already in tears with your phone in your hands texting Dick.

“Babe, where are you? Please, come back home” you tried to write him while the tears blurred your vision.

He didn’t answer for 5 minutes and your heart was racing

“Hey, love.What’s going on? Are you okay?” he texted you back 

“Dick, i don’t know please come back home i need to talk to you.” 

He saw the message and understood that something was really wrong, you weren’t the beggin type, so he got in the car along with Hank and called you. You were too nervous and crying so much to notice your phone buzzing.

“Calm down. Whatever it is, it’s going to be fine. I’m on my way.”

“Answer the phone” he sent you after you didn’t answer the calls. He started to get worried.

You realized your phone was buzzing after a few minutes. He never drove so fast in his life.

“D, i’m sorry to bother you but it's important” you said still crying.

“Hold on, i’m almost home” he said and hung up the call.

--

“Where’s Y/n?” Dick stormed into the living room, startling Jason.

“I think she’s in her room” Jason answered with his mouth full of cereal.

Dick barely entered the room when he immediately felt a body against his, holding him strongly and he held you back.

You got his shirt all wet with your tears and he waited until you were ready to talk, he caressed your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“Babe? I’m starting to get worried, do you wanna talk about it?” he tried to lift your face to look at you and he saw your puffed and red eyes. He hated to see you like this.

He cleaned your tears and you both sat on the bed.

“I don’t know where to start”

“Take your time.” he squeezed your hands, trying to show some support.

“Dick, I woke up and i felt so sick, i throw up and i realized that I’m late and...” You couldn’t continue because you felt a lump in a throat and tears began to fall one more time. He listened to you carefully 

“And?” he encouraged you to keep talking.

“And i bought 5 tests and the five tested positive, Dick. I think I’m pregnant.” you said.

He got up and kneeled in front of you.

“Hey, look at me.” he said “It’s fine, okay? We’ll figure it out. Relax, it’s okay”

“What?” you looked up to see him doing his best to calm you down “Dick aren’t you mad or anything?”

“I’m nervous, I won’t lie but i’m with you on this. if you really are pregnant, we’re going to do this together and you don’t need to be scared or worry about anything.” he told you trying to find out the best way to say it, Dick wasn’t that good with words but he was doing his best. 

“i love you” you said hugging him.

“Your father is going to kill me.” 

“Shit, we need to talk to him” you said and Dick freezed already imagining what Tony Stark would do to him when he knew that his little girl was pregnant.

---

You and Dick headed to Avenger’s compound feeling more and more nervous the closer you were. When you let your father know that you would be visiting he immediately sent a car to pick you up. You couldn't expect less from the guy.

Dick drove the car that Tony sent. During the trip he kept his free hand in your thigh. He didn’t want you to get nervous, although he was most definitely scared shitless.. He looked at you and smiled softly.

You couldn’t ask for a better man when you had Dick Grayson by your side.

You got into the tower and your hands were sweating. You didn’t know what would your father’s reaction would be and to be honest you were not expecting anything good.

When you and Dick passed through the elevator’s door, you were immediately welcomed by Pepper.

“Yn, you look so beautiful. We missed you so much.” she said hugging you tightly.

“Hey pepper, we missed you too” you smiled sweetly at her.

“Grayson.” You saw your father greet your boyfriend. 

“Hello, Tony” Dick smiled at him, he was always so polite.

“My princess” he hugged you. You missed him

“Hey, dad.”

“So the couple came to visit us.” You saw Steve, Natasha and Bruce coming into the room. You two smiled at them and gave each one a hug.

“So, what brought you here kiddo?” Tony asked, holding both of your hands.

You prayed that he kept this smile when you told him what you came to say.

“Dad, why don’t we sit?” you smiled softly at him as you sat into the large sofa.

“Dad, Dick and I came here to talk with you because” you cleaned your throat obviously nervous. “because we found out that I’m pregnant.”

You saw your father’s smile disappear as he listened you.

“You’re what?” he got up. Pepper, you and Dick got up at the same time and the rest of the avengers too, expecting any kind of reaction of Tony.

“She’s pregnant, Tony. Four weeks.” Dick said stepping into the conversation.

“Okay. Now can someone explain to me how the fuck did it happen?” he said and his tone of voice increased as he walked aggressively towards your boyfriend. Dick didn’t move and you stood between them.

“Go easy on the boy, Stark. I don’t think you want to know how it happen” Steve pushed Tony by his chest, gently trying to avoid any confrontation.

“How could you both let it happen? You are young and look at your-”

“Dad. Stop it. Please, Dick and I are both adults. We know what we’re doing.“ 

“Tony, I’ll take care of her and the baby” Dick said trying to calm him down

“You better do that, Grayson, or-” he said glaring at Dick. 

“I know, I know. Otherwise you’re going to find and kill him. Now let them be. Grayson is a good guy, and he already proved this to you by taking care of y/n through all this years. Didn't you, Dick?” Natasha said

“I do my best.” Dick said and  smiled to the red haired woman. Tony was mad but deep inside he was happy. He liked to mess with Dick, but he knew he was a good guy and that you loved each other. 

He hugged you and when the conversation was over, you and Dick headed to the elevator door, ready to leave. Pepper congratulate you both and hugged you one more time before you left.

Dick took this moment to talk to Tony alone.

“Tony, I’d like to ask her hand in marriage. I promise you I won’t fail her” 

“I give you my honor, Grayson. But you better be worth it.” Tony  smiled to the boy and Dick thanked him, saying goodbye to everyone and catching your hand, ready to live the future by your side. No matter what happen.

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Found Home

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: violence, death, language

Description: After sisters in your sorority are murdered, the BAU comes to investigate, along with an awkwardly handsome doctor who catches your attention.

A/N: Yo, yo, yo, it’s the first fanfic since I started college. Finals week is really getting to me y’all. I needed some Spencer Reid in my life.

---

Reid and Morgan approached the Georgetown University sorority house, Morgan knocking while Reid lagged a bit behind. One of the sisters opened up and let them in, and Reid’s ears perked up as soon as he caught the sound of a piano being played in the next room over. Based on the tempo and pattern, it sounded like a sonata. He was shocked that he didn’t know who had composed it; he had studied enough classical music to recognize most composers. It sounded like a mixture of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, soft and sweet and slightly dissonant.

As Morgan questioned the girl he peeked his head around the doorway to see another sister sitting at the piano, completely engrossed. Occasionally, she would pause, making hasty marks on the messy paper in front of her. His eyebrows raised, realizing there was a reason he didn’t recognize the composer. She was sitting just a room over.

“Reid?”

Morgan’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he refocused.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Morgan just shook his head.

“All the sisters are here, so we’re going to question them one at a time. Alright?”

Reid nodded.

“Y/N is in the next room if you want to start with her,” the sister who had let them in commented, pointing in the general direction of the pianist. Reid smiled slightly at hearing her name. Now he could say he knew who had composed that song.

Morgan just nodded, making his way over to the girl at the piano.

“Y/N?” He asked and she looked up from the keys, smiling at him warily.

“You’re with the FBI, I presume?”

Morgan nodded.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Are you a music major?” Reid blurted out.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Right, well, about Jaylee. When did you see her last?” Morgan asked, pulling out his notepad.

“How long have you been composing?” Reid interrupted before she could respond.

“A few years now,” she answered with a quirk of her brow, confused but slightly entertained.

“Reid, how about you let me ask the questions?” Morgan asked, raising his eyebrows at the young doctor.

Reid nodded, focusing instead on the messy hand-written sheet music sitting on the piano stand. It was covered in smudges and eraser marks, signs of a frantically creative mind. He smiled, the staff paper reminding him of the messy journals he kept. He wanted to hear her play her creation, but Morgan was busy questioning her. He eyed the notes, trying to imagine what it would sound like in his head, but sight reading was something he had never fully mastered. It took a musical ear he wasn’t lucky enough to have.

He looked back at Y/N, who was explaining her relationship to the latest victim. 

“We rushed together, but we never really grew close. I mean, we live… or lived in the same house, but we weren’t the best of friends.”

“Was there any animosity between the two of you?”

She shook her head.

“There wasn’t even an opportunity for animosity. We live on separate ends of the house, we don’t have any classes together.”

“Alright, well, thank you for your time. We’ll let you know if we need anything else from you.”

She nodded, turning back to the keys as Morgan stood. Reid remained seated, hesitant to follow his fellow agent.

“Can you play it for me?” He asked out of the blue, almost, almost regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“What?” She asked, looking at him in confusion.

He nodded towards the sheet music. “The song you’re working on.”

She smiled shyly. “It’s not really finished, but I’ll play what I have.”

Reid smiled and held his breath as he waited for her to begin. He didn’t notice that Morgan had already left, gone to question more witnesses. Her fingers hit the first notes, wistful and high. The melody sank lower, growing more concrete as she added the bass. Her left hand kept a steady rhythm as her right hand flowed through an elegant melody, sad and reminiscent of something he couldn’t quite place. She was completely engrossed, eyes closed, as if her hands knew exactly what to do. She was only there to witness the music they were creating. Reid watched her in complete fascination as she played, the music flowing out of her seamlessly. Her instrument became an extension of her body, there was nothing between her and the keys. And then it ended on an unstable chord, quiet and unsure.

She opened her eyes slowly, looking at him meekly.

“That was… amazing. I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

She grinned, eyes crinkling. “Thank you. I don’t really know where else to go with it. It’s a work in progress.”

“I’ve always loved music. You know, music theory is math at its core.”

“I do know,” she laughed. “But, it’s pretty math you can listen to.”

He laughed. “I guess it is.”

“Math gives us all the rules for music so us composers can break them.”

She grinned as she spoke, and he decided he loved the sight of her smile.

“I’m Spencer, by the way. Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid.” He found himself stumbling over his words and he shook his head inwardly.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid. Do you play?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted. She scooted over on the bench, patting the seat next to her.

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No, no. Not after you just did that.”

“Oh, c’mon. Please?”

“Reid!” Morgan called, peeking his head through the doorway. “Time to go.”

“Maybe another time,” he said regretfully, and she nodded. He got up, following Morgan out the door with the sound of her song still echoing in his head.

---

Reid was thrilled to be going back to Y/N’s house, hoping she’d be there, sitting at the piano, composing something beautiful. Of course, he was going back because there was another murder, but the reason didn’t seem to bother him all that much.

He was disappointed when he entered, the house void of music. He peeked around the doorway to the living room, heart sinking slightly at the sight of the empty piano bench.

“We suggest you guys find somewhere else to stay,” Morgan said, catching Reid’s attention.

“Not all of us have somewhere else to go,” the sister, Bailey, he remembered, commented.

“I strongly suggest you all find somewhere.”

“Is that really the wisest course of action?” Reid commented, catching Morgan off guard.

“Do tell,” Morgan sighed.

“Well, if they’re all in different places, they’ll be harder to protect individually. But if they all remain here, it would be easier to protect them. Otherwise, the unsub could pick them off one by one.”

Bailey looked slightly unnerved by his words, but Morgan nodded, seeing the logic in his argument.

“I take it back. You all need to stay here,” Morgan corrected.

Bailey nodded. “I’ll let the girls know. Can we still go to class?”

“For now. But go in groups and never be out at night.”

“What if we have a night class?” 

The three of them looked up to see Y/N descending the stairs.

“Then ski--” Morgan started, but Reid cut in.

“Then you’ll need someone to escort you!”

Morgan looked at Reid with raised brows. He glanced between the doctor and the girl and put two and two together fairly quickly.

“And who would do that?” Morgan asked, already knowing the answer.

“I could,” Reid affirmed. “I’d been meaning to learn the layout of the campus anyway.”

Morgan held back an eye roll, knowing Reid had already memorized a map of the campus days ago.

“Alright then,” Y/N smiled. “I leave at 5:50 on Monday and class gets out at 9:00 at Finley Hall.”

“I’ll be there,” Reid confirmed with an awkward thumbs up. Morgan choked back a laugh.

“Alright, stay safe. We’ll be in touch.”

---

Reid arrived at the sorority house at 5:50 on the dot. It wasn’t completely dark yet; meek rays of sunshine were still peeking over the horizon. However, in a few minutes it would be pitch black.

Y/N opened the door when he knocked, smile on her lips and backpack slung over her shoulder. And off they went; Y/N leading the way.

“So what class are we heading to?” He asked.

“History of Music Composition,” she answered.

“Do you mind if I sit in?” He asked, tentatively.

She nodded. “It’s a big class. The professor probably wouldn’t even notice.”

The rest of the walk was quiet. Not an awkward quiet; a comfortable, familiar quiet. They arrived at an older building he knew was Finley Hall and she pushed through the doors, ascending a winding staircase to the third floor. When they entered the classroom, she found two seats near the back, pulling out a notebook as she sat down. He smiled as she opened it; the notes were messily scrawled and along the margins were lazily drawn doodles of flowers and music notes.

The professor arrived at 6:00 on the dot and began teaching immediately. Y/N didn’t seem completely focused, occasionally jotting down important points, but mainly scribbling on her notebook paper. When he heard the professor mention Beethoven, he turned to Y/N.

“Did you know,” he asked, Y/N perking up at his voice. “That Beethoven went deaf at a fairly early age. In fact, when he was conducting at one of his concerts, a chorus member had to--”

“Turn him around at the end so he could see the audience giving him a standing ovation, yes I know,” She laughed. “I’m a music major, Dr. Reid.”

He blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I love that story.”

He smiled at her as she refocused on what the professor was saying. She continued to aimlessly scribble in her notebook and Reid realized she was distracted. He had never asked how she was doing with all the murders.

“How are you holding up?” He whispered. “With all that’s going on?”

She didn’t look up from her scribbling as she answered.

“I guess as well as I can.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded. “That’s completely normal. But don’t worry, the BAU is getting closer and closer to the unsub, and there is 24 hour protection around the house.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s like, if this maniac is so set on killing us, I feel like he’ll find a way. No matter how many cops and agents are stationed outside. I know that seems irrational, but--”

“No,” he assured. “It’s not. There is no one way people feel in your situation.”

She smiled at him sadly, doing her best to focus for the rest of class.

He watched her profile with wary eyes, not knowing what to say to make her feel safe. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could say. He sighed, deciding he might as well listen to the professor spew out information he already knew.

---

They arrived back at the house, filtering through the line of agents outside the door. He bade her goodbye, about to walk away when she stopped him.

“That piece I played you the other day,” she said. “I finished it. Would you like to… to um, hear it?” She seemed so unsure, but Reid just smiled and nodded. He followed her inside as she dropped her backpack by the piano. She sat down, patting the spot next to her on the bench. Reid hesitantly sat down, sucking in a breath at how close they were.

And then she began playing, with the same passion as before. The beginning was familiar, but once she reached that quiet and unsure chord, she continued on, the melody growing louder and more firm as she did. He watched her profile as she played, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. All of the sudden the song grew softer, as she tickled the higher keys, reaching past him to do so. And then it ended, quiet, but confident. She looked at him, wide eyed, waiting for his reaction.

“That was absolutely beautiful,” he breathed. He noticed her eyes flicker down to his lips and he did the same. They were already so close, but she leaned even closer. He found himself closing his eyes, heart racing in anticipation. Just before their lips met, a scream ripped through the house.

They both jumped, pulling away immediately. Reid reached for his gun before running in the direction of the scream.

“Stay here,” he told her as he ran.

He rushed up the stairs, followed by agents pushing in from outside. He saw one of the doors ajar, and kicked it the rest of the way open, seeing a girl he didn’t recognize kneeling over a body. He recognized the body as Bailey’s and he lowered his gun. Shit. He was too late.

He turned to speak to the agents behind him when he saw Y/N who had followed him up despite his direct order to do the exact opposite. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears as she stared at the lifeless body of her friend. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as a sob wracked through her body.

She looked past the dead girl and Reid followed her gaze, catching sight of the open window. He rushed past the body, looking through the window in a vain attempt to catch sight of the unsub.

“Have agents follow several trails leading away from this window,” he told the agents waiting by the door. “Now!”

They rushed to do as he ordered, leaving just him, the girl who had found Bailey, and Y/N, still unmoving. His eyes softened at the sight of her. He made his way back to her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. She did even look up, seemingly unaware of his presence. 

“Let’s get you downstairs, okay?” He said, softly. She nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Bailey’s corpse. “The Forensics team should be here any minute.”

He led her downstairs, beckoning for the girl who had found Bailey to follow. Agents passed them as they descended the stairs, and Y/N turned, watching them enter Bailey’s room. He took the both of them outside, his eyes finding Morgan, Rossi, and JJ in the crowd.

“I thought you said we’d be safe here.” He turned back to look at her at her quiet voice, her eyes wide with unfiltered fear and horror.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her with sympathetic eyes as she waited for some kind of explanation. An EMT passed by and he stopped them.

“She’s in shock,” he told her, and the EMT nodded, placing her arms on Y/N’s shoulders and leading her to sit down on the back of an ambulance, wrapping a blanket around her shaking form.

“Do you know what the hell happened?” Morgan asked as he, Rossi, and JJ approached. 

“No,” he shook his head. “One minute it was quiet, the next I heard a scream and ran upstairs. Some girl found Bailey’s body. I’m not sure how long she’s been dead, but the window to her room was open.”

Morgan was about to speak, when a sister interrupted them.

“Excuse me, I don’t know if this helps, but I know Bailey was planning on sneaking a guy into the house. She was mad we weren’t allowed to have guys over, so she was planning on sneaking someone in through the window.”

“Do you know who?” JJ asked.

“No, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Just a bunch of flings.”

“Do you know any of their names?” Rossi prodded.

The girl nodded and JJ stepped aside with her, pulling out a notebook.

“Mini-Beethoven over there seems pretty shook up,” Morgan commented, eyes landing on Y/N’s still shaking form.

“Yeah, she followed me upstairs and saw the body.”

Morgan nodded, looking between the doctor and the pianist. 

“What were you doing in the house?” he asked, arms crossed. “I thought you were just escorting her to and from class.”

Reid raised his brows at his colleague’s question, groping for an answer. “Well, she… um, she… invited me in, because… she finished… the song, that song she showed me when we first… you know… and she um, finished it… and she wanted to show me and I wanted to hear and so, um… yeah, she showed me her song… and that was it, just that thing, all that happened.”

Rossi and Morgan peered at each other, grinning.

“Does Reid have a crush?” Morgan asked, playfully shoving the doctor.

“No, just an appreciation,” he assured. “She’s an excellent composer.”

“Sound like a crush to me, does that sound like a crush to you?” He asked, looking at Rossi.

“Certainly does,” the older man said, smiling.

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Reid asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Whatever you say, Romeo.”

---

The were so close. They had the description of the unsub down, and units were looking for him throughout the DC area. Occasionally, through the bustle of the case, Reid found his mind drifting back to Y/N, who was practically locked inside the house where her friends had been murdered. He hadn’t seen her since Bailey’s death. The case hadn’t required him to, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. Statistics would say she would still be processing so soon after a traumatic experience, but he wanted to find out for himself. At the same time, he needed to find this unsub. So he didn’t go to see her. Instead, he focused on the case so she could get back on with her life.

---

The last few days had been trying for Y/N. Her friend was ruthlessly murdered and she was forced to remain on the scene of the crime. They had doubled security, so there was no leaving and no one was allowed in. She spent most of her days at the piano, composing angry and confused and resentful melodies. Her piano was the only thing keeping her clinging to her sanity.

She was in the middle of composing when gunshots echoed down the street. She instantly stood, eyes finding the officer standing guard in the foyer.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, ma’am. The officers outside will take care of it, I’m sure.”

More gunshots fired, followed by a scream, this time a little closer.

One of her sisters flew down the stairs to ask the officer the same question she had posed seconds ago. He gave the same answer. A few other girls made their way down the steps timidly.

And then there was heavy pounding on the door. 

All of them jumped, the girls looking to the officer who looked just as shocked.

“Go upstairs,” he ordered. “Now!”

Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow her sisters up the stairs, locking herself in her room. She backed away from the door slowly, chest heaving as the banging on the front door continued just downstairs. She wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t come. Her heart pounded with a level of fear she had never experienced before.

She kept backing away until she bumped into something, no someone, and then a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Don’t try anything,” a husky voice whispered in her ear and she whimpered as she felt the cool metal of a gun pressed against her temple.

---

The team rushed to the house as soon as they got the call. Spencer hoped Y/N wasn’t there, although he knew that she most definitely was. Several officers were down, over a dozen injured. No one knew how, but he didn’t care. He needed to get to the house before anything else happened. 

They pulled into the driveway and Spencer rushed out before they came to a complete stop.

“What do we know?” he asked an officer standing idly in the yard. The officer didn’t respond, he just pointed up at the balcony. Reid followed the direction of his finger and his heart stopped. There on the balcony was a man in a ski mask holding a gun to the temple of a shaking girl. Not just any girl. Y/N. 

He looked down to see a man with the word “Negotiator” printed on his vest speaking into a bullhorn. The unsub occasionally shouted down at the man, but he wasn’t budging.

He focused his gaze back on Y/N, who’s eyes had found him in the crowd. Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks. She looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing deep down that there was nothing he could do.

“Have we tried getting in?” he asked the officer next to him.

“There’s more than one of them,” he answered. “They’ve blocked off all the doors. The second we enter, she dies.”

“Well, then what the hell are we doing to stop this?” Reid practically screamed at the officer, catching the attention of those around him.

“Just leave and no one else gets hurt,” he heard the unsub call down to the negotiator. “You hear me? I’m starting the countdown now. If all of you aren’t gone in the next ten minutes, this bitch bites the dust.”

He watched as Y/N closed her eyes at his words, taking in a shaky breath.

“What do you want?”

“To make these ungrateful whores pay,” he spat back.

Y/N choked on a sob and the unsub pressed the gun to her temple even harder, forcing her head into an awkward angle.

“We can’t let you do that,” the negotiator said. “Just let them go and we can talk it out, alright?”

The unsub shook his head.

“I’ve given you my terms. Clear out or else they’ll all die. I fucking swear it.”

“What did they do to deserve this?” The negotiator called up, clearly trying to stall.

“These bitches think they’re better than us, don’t you?” He said, aiming the last part at Y/N. “It’s about time they learned that they’re nothing more than stuck-up, mindless sluts.”

Spencer turned to look at his colleagues for any kind of idea. They were all empty-handed.

He turned back around just in time to see Y/N lift her foot to kick him in the crotch. The unsub immediately curled into himself, loosening his grip on Y/N. She took this opportunity to run back into the house. However, before she made it inside, the unsub grabbed hold of her ankle, effectively toppling her to the ground. She kicked at him, but he dragged her back onto the balcony. Spencer watched in horror as picked her up in a fit of anger, tossing her over the side of the balcony like a rag doll. He ran towards her, but slowed when he saw an agent catch her before she hit the ground. He let out a breath, jogging the rest of the way to her.

The agent who had caught her set her gently on the ground, her legs shaking. Spencer was there immediately, holding her up.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, scanning her for injuries.

She didn’t respond, she just wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face into his chest. He hugged her back instantly, holding her as she sobbed into his shirt. Neither of them noticed the unsubs being dragged out of the house in cuffs a few minutes later, or the frightened women that filtered out the front door after them. Y/N held onto Spencer for dear life, and he let her.

---

A week had passed since the unsubs had been arrested. It had been a group of delusional students who had been rejected by women in the sorority at one time or another. She remembered one of them, the one who had held her at gunpoint. He was a bit of an eccentric kid. He had asked her out at a party shortly after she had split with her ex and she politely declined. She hadn’t thought twice about it. But now she saw his face on the news nearly every night. And she kept imagining the clammy hand clamped over her mouth and the cold barrel pressed against her temple.

She hadn’t returned to the house since it happened. Or seen any of her sisters. The only thing that remained in her life was Spencer. She had been taken to the hospital that night for some minor injuries and Spencer had accompanied her. He had stayed with her, holding her hand, when a psych team came in for an evaluation while she lay in her hospital bed. He helped her move in with her friend, returning to the house to get her stuff so she wouldn’t have to. He even hauled her stand-up piano half-way across town. 

It was hard to pick up where they left off before they found Bailey dead. The image of his lips nearly ghosting over hers remained in her head, but she wasn’t ready to dive into anything like that quite yet. However, she still saw Spencer. He came to check on her after work every now and then. Or stopped by after he flew back into DC from a mission. 

It wasn’t until a month later, when she met him at a coffee shop down the street from the capitol building, that they finally started back up. He asked her to dinner. And not just any dinner. A fancy, five-star restaurant kind of dinner. She happily accepted and now she was scurrying around her room frantically, trying to piece together an outfit.

“Does gold or silver go better with maroon?” She asked her roommate who was sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Uh… silver?” She responded, not even looking up.

“Or maybe I should go with the green dress,” Y/N sighed, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

“Would you stop worrying?” Her roommate laughed. “This guy is obviously head over heels for you. You could show up in a potato sack and he would still swoon.”

“That doesn’t help me pick out an outfit, Macey.” 

Her roommate rolled her eyes before standing up and heading to Y/N’s closet. She pulled out a dark blue dress, tossing it to Y/N.

“Wear that with your silver necklace.”

Y/N held up the dress to her torso, looking in the mirror before nodding to herself.

She was about to change when a knock sounded at the door.

“What? He’s ten minutes early! Can you go answer the door and tell him I’ll be out in a minute?”

“Of course,” Macey laughed, heading to the front hallway.

“Hello, Dr. Reid,” she greeted as she opened the door, seeing Spencer decked out in slacks and a sports jacket. “Don’t you look adorable.”

“Thanks, Macey. Is Y/N ready?” He asked, wringing his hands anxiously.

“Almost. You can wait for her inside.”

Spencer nodded, stepping inside the apartment he had been in countless times. This time it felt different, though. He sat down on the couch, letting out a shaky breath as he waited for Y/N. 

When she finally emerged from her room, he stood abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, grabbing the clutch sitting on the counter.

He nodded, eyes never leaving her.

“You look…”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish.

“Stunning,” he finally managed, and her face melted into a smile.

“Why, thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

She took his arm as they left, waving goodbye to Macey as they shut the door.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, but a good quiet. He sat beside her, eyes never leaving her face. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Dinner was excellent. The food was amazing, and the company was even better.

Spencer walked her to her door at the end of the night, hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly.

“I had a really nice time,” she said, opening her clutch for her keys.

“Me too,” Spencer agreed.

“We should do it again sometime,” she chuckled.

“Me too,” Spencer said, realizing his words made no sense. She just laughed.

“Am I making the Dr. Spencer Reid nervous?”

“You have no idea,” he breathed out. His eyes flicked down to her lips and he let out a shaky breath. “Can I--can we… could we… do you--”

He was cut off by her lips pressing against his. He quickly melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around her waist as her hands found home on his cheeks.

They pulled away all too soon, foreheads resting against each other.

“Goodnight, Dr. Reid,” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his lips before disappearing inside.

Spencer let out a breath, a smile creeping onto his lips. He strolled down her driveway, hands in his pockets as he made his way back to his apartment. He had no idea how he got so lucky.

[saturnwritings]

one drink too many

—after getting a bit too rowdy on a girls night out, it’s up to bakugou to take care of you when things go south and the night dwindles to a close.

pairing(s): bakugou x reader (established)

word count: 2735

warnings: bad decisions made by consumption of alcohol

a/n: special thanks to my irl friend kim for suggesting this!! and uhh,, if y’all wanna give me sum nice juicy requests i would be happy to 😎 also my first bnha fic!! kinda weird since bakugou isnt really in my list of best boys (hes like b or a tier ngl 😔 but my friend really likes him also this was v fun i starting writing at 2 and ended at like 11 but im really proud of it)

“Hey y/n! You almost ready to go? The Uber’s almost here!” 

As you held your phone up to your ear, your eyes widened. You had almost completely forgotten about the girls night out you planned, despite already being dressed. 

You promised your boyfriend you’d hang out with him before you left, so there you were: all dressed up in your fancy, going-out clothes watching Bakugou train in the on-campus gym, that is, until you got a call from Mina, which completely snapped you out of your daze.

To be honest, you could watch Bakugou train for hours, days even. The way his body moved with such determination, wow, your eyes were glued to him. Even from where you sat against the wall of the empty room, you could see his muscles flexing with every move - but you had planned this outing weeks ago and the girls would kill you if you ditched them to watch you boyfriend work out of all things. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m… on my way! I’ll see you at the entrance.” You quickly responded as you hung up. stood up and grabbed your small bag. You called out to Bakugou, who was so engrossed in fighting a punching-bag that he didn’t notice you walk over to him. 

“Hey, Katsuki, Mina just called, I gotta now,” you placed your hand on his shoulder as you tip-toed to give him a small kiss, “Don’t stay up too late training, okay?” You paused for a second, “And try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.” You teased with a small laugh. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Tch, whatever, loser.” He said, breaking eye contact, though there was no trace of malice in his voice.

***

The bar was never really your favorite place to be. It was sticky and smokey and loud and there was always a person who stood a little too close to you on the dance floor. Thankfully, you always managed to have a good and fun time and loosen up with a drink or two. And if all else fails, the bar you went to wasn’t so far from the dorms, around 15 minutes by car, so you knew if you really wanted to leave, it was no problem.

After a couple sessions of dancing with Mina and Hagakure, and probably too many rounds of shots with Jirou and, surprisingly, Yaomomo, you found yourself stumbling towards a nearby pool table, despite being surrounded by guys already engaging in a match.

“Hey! Can we, uhm, use this after you?” You slurred, probably sounding like roadlike. The guys took a second to exchange glances, then started laughing hysterically. You grew puzzled. 

“Oh,” One guy looked you up and down, “You know how to play?” You frowned. Even in your drunken state you could tell he was being condescending. You huffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a girl?” He said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Girls don’t know how to play pool.”

“Oh yeah? Well then… I challenge you to a game!” You said as you crossed your arms over your chest and lifted your chin. You didn’t exactly think this plan through, seeing as though you weren’t really in any shape to play competitively and seriously, but drunk you was not about to take shit for a sexist stranger. The man quirked his eyebrow, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

“Okay then,” He said with a chuckle as he handed you a pool cue, “Game on,” He paused and mocked looking pensive, “and good luck.” Something about his smile didn’t sit right with you. You scoffed. By then, all your friends were gathered around to watch. 

They knew how competitive you got, and while they should probably stop the showdown to prevent bad things from happening in the near future, it was good entertainment.

After a while of playing, only the 8-ball was left; it was your turn. Feeling very buzzed, you lined up your cue and tried focusing on one of the pockets, however it seemed as though your vision just dropped to -5 and you were looking at the Eiffel Tower from Spain. In simpler terms: you were fucked. 

As much as you knew you wouldn’t be able to win, your stubbornness didn’t allow you to back out or admit defeat. As you were about to hit the ball, you felt someone behind you slightly nudge your cue, causing the ball to roll off course and instead it hit one of the walls. You gasped and looked behind you and sure enough, there was your opponent, looking extremely satisfied with a smirk on his face. 

“Hey! You cheated, what the hell?!” 

“Hm… did I? Or was I just right about little girls not being able to play pool?” Anger bubbled within you.

“No!” You shouted, “Absolutely not, you so clearly cheated! You knocked my stick and… made the ball go… somewhere else!” The mix of alcohol and anger made it a bit hard for you to think straight, and trying to think honestly gave you a headache.

“Woah! Getting pretty feisty, huh. Try to manage your emotions more, then maybe people might start taking you seriously.” He and his friends laughed. You were so taken aback that all you could do was scoff as you looked at him with disgust.

Now, sober you would definitely not approve of what you were about to do. No, normally you were composed and knew how to handle yourself; drunk you had a different plan. You growled (you had apparently picked it up from being around Bakugou so much) as you stomped over and shoved him. 

Everyone around you oohed, Uraraka and Mina exchanged nervous glances. Uraraka was close enough to you to know when you were being reckless, and Mina, usually forced into being the mediator for your and Bakugou’s arguments, knew you wouldn’t back down from a fight.

As you were about to beat this guy up, you felt Mina grab your arm and pull you back to the rest of the girls. 

“Hey! What’re you doing?” You struggled to rip your arm away from Mina’s grip, but she was steady and, admittedly, more sober. All the girls collectively sighed, and it was Mina who spoke up at the end.

“y/n, you’re out of control. You can’t just beat a random guy up at a bar just because he cheated at pool! No matter how sexist that piece of trash is…” She seemed to mumble the last part, “Let’s just try to have a fun rest of the night, okay?” She gave you a small smile as she rested her hand on your shoulder. You huffed.

“No, he deserves it! Piece of… poop,” You crossed your arms childishly “You can’t stop me!” You stormed off back to the guy, intending to give him a piece of your mind while Uraraka followed with a worried look on her face as she attempted to diffuse the situation.

“Ugh, it’s no use. She won’t listen to us!” Jirou groaned. Deep down, the girls knew that the guy deserved it, but beating him up wouldn’t solve anything and it was definitely not the mature or right thing to do, they were training to be heroes, after all. The girls were all deep in thought when Hagakure spoke up.

“Let’s call Bakugou, y/n always listens to him! Or maybe he can just carry her home if she won’t!” The girls pondered this for a second. Momo sighed.

“Unfortunately, that might be our best option,” She glanced at Uraraka standing between you and the guy, “It’s not like we could manage to get her into an Uber or on the train, let alone carry her all the way home.” All the girls seemed to have come to an agreement. They decided Mina should call Bakugou, they hung out the most and she was the person who Bakugou would most likely pick up on. 

Mina pulled out her phone and looked for the contact, holding her phone up to her ear as it rang.

“Hey Bakugou… Uhm, so there’s been a situation.”

***

After what seemed like hours, but was actually 10 minutes of trying to calm you down and hold you off long enough for Bakugou to arrive, he finally did.

The girls were in the middle of holding you back, when, out of nowhere, a hand gripped your arm strongly and pulled you away. You heard the girls sigh in relief as you were about to chew out this guy as well, when you looked up and saw none other than your boyfriend starting at you with an intense look. You became nervous before growing confused: What was Katsuki doing here? It’s girls night… he’s not a girl is he? Your drunken mind was very frazzled.

“Wait a second… what’re you doing here?” You slurred. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Tch, dumbass. Come with me, we’re leaving.” You gasped with betrayal.

“Nooo, ‘Suki I don’t wanna go! I gotta… beat his ass.” you hiccuped, followed by a very intoxicated giggle. Bakugou scoffed.

“No. You’re too drunk right now, you’re gonna do something stupid,” He said as he pulled you out of the bar by your arm, “We’re leaving.” You whined, on the verge of a tantrum, but you knew Bakugou’s word was final. You let your shoulders slump as he guided you outside, Mina followed. 

“Thanks for getting here so quickly, Bakubro, it’s hard to handle y/n when she’s like this…” Mina said, rubbing her neck awkwardly. You shifted as Bakugou held up by the waist, your arm slung around his shoulders.

“Whatever, she makes stupid decisions when she’s drunk, it’s a pain in the ass to take care of her,” He was lying, of course, he loved taking care of you, drunk of not, this was mostly for appearances’ sake. 

Mina didn’t buy it though, she knew that even though it was always you taking care of Bakugou and calming him down everyday, Bakugou cared deeply for you and did the same. Internally, she found the switching of dynamics very endearing. 

“We’re leaving, I’m taking her home.” Bakugou said, suddenly. 

“Oh, okay. Let me just get the girls and we can go-”

“No, it’s fine, just… stay there, I guess.” Mina was baffled as Bakugou looked away, “Just, ugh! Whatever, I’ll take her home, you can stay here.” He blurted out. Mina was very taken aback.

“Oh… okay then! Thanks Bakubro!” She said as she pushed the door of the bar open and headed inside. Bakugou sighed, he was too soft when it came to you. He looked back at you, practically hanging off him, and fought the urge to sigh again.

Your hair was a mess and your outfit was rumpled, you would also groan occasionally, most definitely from a headache. Being able to be outside and get some fresh air really made you realize how out of it you were, Bakugou noticed as well as you swayed slightly. You looked up and caught Bakugou staring at you, you tilted your head in confusion.

“Wait… ‘Suki? Wha-” Bakugou narrowed his eyes in confusion, waiting for you to say something, “When did you get here? I was inside, and you were… not inside” You stared off into space for a second before coming to, “Woah…”

“You were being stupid, I had to come save your ass from being beat.” Bakugou replied, rolling his eyes, “C’mon, we’re going to the station.”

“Station?”

“Train station.” 

“Ohhh… okay.” You guys stayed quiet until you arrived at the steps of the train station, only minutes away from the bar; Bakugou thought it was better than waiting for an Uber.

“Give me your bag.” Bakugou held his hand out expectantly.

“What? No! You could… steal something!” You said, shaking your head childishly.

“y/n come on! We need to get your IC card to go on the train, then we can go home.” Bakugou said, as if explaining something to a child. You thought for a second.

“Fine, here!” You took your bag off your shoulder and almost shoved it into his hands. He rummaged around before pulling out your wallet. He sighed in relief when he saw your IC card, thankfully, you had it on you at all times. Bakugou pulled out his own and guided you to the gates. 

“Ugh, why wont this stupid thing work?!” You said, scanning your card in the completely wrong place and shoving at the turnstiles. 

“You put it here.” Bakugou guided your hand to the scanner and gave a nudge as an indicator to walk through. He gave an affectionate eye roll when he heard your little ‘woah’. As much as a dumbass you were when you were drunk, he loved being able to take care of you in return for all the time you took care of him.

The carriage was near-empty and, thankfully, silent. Bakugou knew what loudness did to your headaches, and he really didn’t want to experience it right then. Due to the carriage not being busy, you were able to get seats next to each other. 

After the train started, your head naturally fell onto Bakugou’s shoulder. It seemed as though the train ride was too short and too long all at once; the moonlight was illuminating your face and your eyes were closed. He could feel the soft rise and fall when you breathed. Things like this had happened many times before, but Bakugou could never really get over how peaceful and ethereal you looked, despite being very drunk. He felt as though he could stay in that moment forever. 

He looked in the opposite direction so you couldn’t see his blush.

A short walk later and you guys were at the dorms. You stumbled into your room with Bakugou supporting you. 

“Ugh!” You groaned as you collapsed face-down on your bed. Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“No, y/n, you have to get ready for bed first before you sleep,” You responded with a groan as Bakugou lifted you up to sit upright, “Wait here.” 

A while later, Bakugou re entered the room with supplies in hand and was pleased to see you hadn’t moved, you were probably too tired to cause any more mayhem. He set the things down on the bed next to you and started to work. “Stay still, okay?” He said, you hummed and nodded slightly as a reply, already half asleep. 

Meanwhile, Bakugou took a cotton pad soaked in make-up remover and wiped it all over your face, then applied the several skincare products you had in what he hoped was the correct order and area. He had watched you enough times to have a basic understanding of your night routine, but still wasn’t quite sure of himself.

After doing your skincare, he walked over to your closet to pick out some comfy pyjamas for you. As he was filing through, he took note of the several hoodies he had previously dubbed missing, however he took one out anyway. He handed you the hoodie, expecting you to know to change. Instead, you made grabby hands at him and whined.

“‘Sukiii, I’m tired.” Bakugou sighed.

“I know, dummy, but you gotta change first, okay?” You grumbled but started to undress, before getting stuck in your clothes and Bakugou needing to help with what seemed like the 100th sigh of the evening.

Finally, you were dressed and Bakugou tucked you into bed, sitting on the covers next to you. He recounted the night, starting with getting a call from Mina saying you got into trouble and were able to fight someone, then running to the bar to save your ass and taking you home. He shook his head slightly.

“And you told me not to get in trouble,” He said, mostly to himself, he thought you were asleep, or just couldn’t understand him at this point.

“It’s not my fault! It was that guy, he was… doing stuff.” You puffed out your cheeks and furrowed your brows. Bakugou gave a small laugh and smile. 

“I know, dumbass.” When he looked back at you, he was met with your closed eyes. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, and before leaving the room, you had woken up just enough to hear him say goodnight.

“I love you, loser.”

bonus - the next day

mina: yo how’d u get to the bar so fast

bakugou: i ran wdym

mina: coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool

[himooonlight]

who are you? pt. 5 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 3.3k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: death. lot of angst.

A/N: happy new year, everybody! I watched the show for the 5th time and I noticed some dahlias at Emily’s house so…… yeah, my imagination was running wild for this. Hopefully I gave you guys some answers with this chapter. Hopefully; who knows?

here's chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 and chapter 4.

1922

  The stage was huge and the curtains were embroidered with CC's. Caleb Covington. The magician everyone was talking about. He wasn't just the talk of the town, no; he was all over the newspaper in different states. 

  In the theater the decorations were either black or gold and the tall man standing in the center was wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. His whole persona and aura were screaming for attention and validation, insinuating how narcissistic and egocentric he was. Because of that, no one could look directly at him without feeling uncomfortable and scared - that's why working for him was like hell on earth; not only because he would make insane demands like finding an enormous glass box in the middle of the night, but also because he wasn't very nice.

  His four personal assistants were holding heavy chains, not very sure if that was a good idea. Everybody was tired, irritated and a little terrified, even though they would never say that out loud.

  That their boss was mad. And he for sure was.

  - This is bigger than us, I can feel it. People will talk about me for centuries!

  Nobody dared to say a thing. They just kept doing what they were supposed to, wondering if this trick wouldn't be too much, questioning where the firefighters were. Even in rehearsals, everything had to be as safe as possible. Caleb, however, was eager to try out this escape idea, saying that the rest of the time was already on their way and that they could go ahead and start.

  One of the assistants was pouring alcohol inside the box, while the other three were getting the chains tight around the magician's body. When five locks were put in place, the only thing missing was the blindfold and the fire. 

  - And now, let's burn. - Covington said. Against his better judgment, the assistent lit up the platform around the box, watching the dancing flames reflect on the glass. Going back to the audience, the four assistants sat there in silence, scared for their own life.

  Caleb didn't wait. He got inside the box with the blindfold and no way to break the chains or open the locks. The box could only open from outside and nobody could get near it because of the fire. And the alcohol inside sure was a deadly combination too, of course. But Caleb Covington was always right, always sure about his odds.

  Until he wasn't.

  When the rest of the crew got to the theatre, Caleb was already inside the box, struggling to get out. He still had one minute to go and the firefighters were ready to help him out.

  Covington didn't think it through; the alcohol wasn't cold and it was more flammable than he thought, so when the glass box exploded, not even the firefighters could save his life. He didn't make it to the hospital and the police couldn't really blame anyone, especially not the assistants for doing their jobs.

  Caleb Covington died a horrible death, performing one of his magic tricks.

  And while he was burning, he blamed others for not getting it right. He was too perfect to be mistaken, so he died thinking he would find a way to be bigger, better and eternal.

  Caleb Covington died wanting revenge, eternity and power.

  Still, he died.

  1974

  The year of 1974 was a roller coaster for Lily Peters. Her baby boy was born and the world was somehow brighter because of him. Somehow darker too.

  His cute little nose brought joy to her heart and his tiny hand would hold her finger like if he were to ever let go, everything would fall apart.

  The roller coaster started going down when he, in fact, did.

  - Listen to me, Lily. - The man said. His tone was low and his eyes were pleading for understanding and compassion. He wanted a family, of course, but everything was so complicated. He just couldn't turn around without trying one more time. - We can move to a different city if you want. We deserve a happy life, don't you think? Together.

  Lily was young. Reckless wasn't really a word to describe her; instead she was smart, passionate, dedicated and bright. Incredibly bright. So when she got home eight months prior with red eyes and shaking hands, her parents didn't comprehend the syllables she was mumbling. Sounded like the world was ending or someone died.

  When "I am pregnant" left her lips, they were surprised. Both of them couldn't think of a single thing to say. Out of shock, they held her, petting her long hair and crying silently with their daughter. The tears weren't a result of a heavy heart or disappointment; the tears were based on joy, love and gratitude. 

  For both of them, at least. To her, not so much.

  The baby boy's dad was an amazing man. He was a journalist known for being honest yet gentle. His articles and photos were always delicate and strong. He was always smiling, always being nice to strangers, always believing in something, in someone. He was also a dreamer; a very realistic one, for that matter. He would dream with his head up in the sky and feet on the ground.

  It was hard for him wrapping his head around what Lily was saying. Maybe it was because he was older than her, but he just couldn't see things from her point of view.

  - I've made up my mind. - Lily said. She kept going down and down, afraid she wasn't going to see the light again. Her decision was a blind intent to make the roller coaster to up again. - I can't keep him.

  Her parents were strongly against the idea of giving the baby away. None of Lily's friends knew about the pregnancy, so there was nobody else to beg her to see things clearly. She could stay in college and still be a mom; she could have a beautiful life with her beautiful son and be happy. There was no reason to fear what other people would say; her son's presence could cure her heavy heart of any nasty remark or malicious look.

  Lily was young and she made a bad choice; one that she would regret forever. But no one could blame her for not knowing better until she knew better.

  - Well, I can. - The man replied. He was crying, holding his son carefully and wondering how could anyone give up on him. - I am going to keep him and be a great father to our son. He's going to be an amazing person and I'm sorry that you won't be there to see it.

  It wasn't an easy decision. 1974 was the year of California Jam, when people could be audacious and careless in a crowd, but scared and small inside of their own houses. Lily was feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenthood, of her own being and all the life she would have to forget. She wasn't ready, but her son couldn't wait.

  - Lily, darling, are you sure? - Her parents were merely observers. They wanted their grandson around, they wanted to see him growing up, going to school and smiling. They wanted everything they could get, but it was Lily's choice and being a parent didn't give them the right to make choices for their daughter. - Is this the right decision?

  The words couldn't come out, so she just nodded. The sad journalist nodded too, understanding that he was now on his own. Well, at least he wasn't alone and his soul was satisfied with his decision: he could never say that he abandoned his own child. That's something he would never forgive himself for.

  The baby didn't wake up with the comotion and Lily thanked the heavens for it. If she saw his pretty green eyes she would've turned around and begged them to stay.

  Ray instinctively smiled at his mom for the first and last time, still in his sleep. Lily cried when both of them left the house, wondering if she was right.

  - We're going to be fine, Ray Molina. - The man whispered to his son, kissing his forehead. - You are the love of my life.

  1993

  - Hi. Do you have a name or can I call you mine? - Reggie's friends started laughing, embarrassed by his lack of filter. They didn't understand that their friend's words were natural, almost like an instint. Reggie didn't feel that intense connection with anyone there at the book club; let alone with someone he never met before. - Maybe I went too far with that one. I think I have the right to remain silent.

  There he was again, using humor to hide things.

  Reginald Peters was a scaredy cat with a very believable mask: funny remarks and the I-am-stupid façade. His personality was joyful and light, used to hide all the years his mom mistreated him and his dad ignored his existence. Reggie knew he was born to save their marriage, but it was doomed a long time ago, with no saving at all. The boy grew up with no sense of hope for romantic love and no understanding of self preservation.

  And none of that was his fault; his longing for parental support or the lack of ambition in his educational life. Reggie had no one to appreciate him, to build him up, to be there for him unconditionally. That is until Luke and Alex showed up.

  And then Ethan.

  - Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - Alex said, making Luke laugh even louder.

  People started asking them to keep it quiet, to what both of them complied easily - they loved the snacks there. The boys went back inside to grab something to eat while Reggie and Ethan stood there in the backyard, looking at each other, trying to understand their feelings.

  It wasn't something measurable or understandable. No one could explain the feeling of coming back home that they felt when their eyes met.

  They were both speechless.

  Reggie and Ethan were admiring each other's details. The bridge of their nose, their eyebrows, the way their hair would flow with the wind, their freckles; everything that met the eye. Still, they couldn't pinpoint what it was.

  - Hey. - Ethan replied, holding out his hand. Reggie looked into Ethan's eyes, then his lips and only then took his hand in his. Time seemed to stop around them. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

  Ethan liked metaphors, so if he were asked to describe that moment, he would've said that it felt like lying down in his bed after a long summer away from home. It was comfortable, safe, heartwarming, relaxing. Great. And Reggie would've nodded his head, agreeing with the comparison.

  Coming back to each other after lifetimes away was refreshing. Living away from each other was cruel and all the hardships were long forgotten with a simple touch.

  Hand in hand, Ethan smiled at Reggie, wondering how long it's been.

  It was just one lifetime, but it felt like forever.

  1994

  - This. You and I. - Ethan said, turning to face Reggie, who looked perplexed. Ethan falted, thinking he read the whole picture wrong. - My parents would kill me.

  Reginald opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify himself.

  - Ethan, what are you talking about? - Reggie asked with a scoff. The façade was up again, blending in with the boy's features just well. - We're only friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke.

  A joke.

  The worst part about the "we're only friends" card is the "only" part. It was like their friendship was insignificant or insufficient; seemed like the "just friends" made each other smaller. They had the potential to be more, to take up more space in each other's life, to hold a more special value in his heart, but "just friends" limited Ethan from achieving what he really wanted.

  "Just friends" sounded like "I'm by your side, but I'm not relevant enough'’ to Ethan.

  - I'm sorry. I have to go. - A heartbroken Ethan said.

  Ethan shouldn't be sorry - that was the first thing Reggie thought after he left. Ethan should be there, with him, holding his hand and maybe hearing a new song they were working on. Yet Reginald couldn't move, almost like his feet were glued to the ground. Above the loud music, he could hear the clock on the wall, ticking mercilessly telling him he missed his chance to let his stars, his path collide with Ethan's. Above the loud music, he felt stuck in time, not getting older, further away from paradise.

  "Now or never" quickly turned into "maybe next life" to him.

  1995

  Death was about the living.

  Death was about who stayed on Earth, wondering about the words they didn't speak and about the food they didn't taste in the company of the deceased. Death was a silence that people shared because they were told so and because they had no special powers to change it.

  Death was a cry of mourning from the living, a closed coffin, the ashes thrown from a beautiful hill that the deceased could never see or that they loved very much; a dream or a memory. Death was a watch that forgot to keep running, a battery that no longer fed anything, a pause.

  Death was about who wasn't dead.

  Death was about many people who would feel affected by absence. Family, friends, strangers who would question their own existence because of someone's obituary.

  Death was, indeed, about the living.

  In that case, about Rose, Bobby and the boys' families.

  About how Luke's parents almost didn't attend the funeral. Their broken heart was physically hurting them and leaving the house was hard. They kept waiting for their son's return, choosing to ignore the fact that was dead. Emily and Mitch Patterson stayed by the door, imagining their son's figure coming back home. That never happened.

  About how Lisa and Jarred Mercer, Alex's mom and dad, didn't cry. They stared at their son's picture in silence. People came and went, saying they would pray for comfort, but it was just empty. Everything was empty; the words, their bodies, their soul. Losing a son shouldn't happen. It was in the unsaid manual of life: parents should go first. Burying a child was an ache no body should ever feel. The literal body really, considering how physical the pain could be. Alex's parents, for instance, couldn't eat for days. They couldn't sleep or smile. Breathing was painful, remembering was even worse.

  About how Reginald's father was drunk while the priest prayed. He stayed away from everybody, just tripping on his own feet and murmuring "I'm sorry". He wasn't talking about Reggie - he was thinking about Lily, his wife, and how she didn't care about their son. He was apologizing for losing all their money, for gambling, for not being a good husband. He cried too, but his father's angry voice screaming "don't cry, you're a man" echoed in his mind soon enough. He left before anybody could see him.

  About how Rose visited Emily and Mitch many times, always taking Dahlias, her favorite flower, to them. She would just make sure they ate, talk a little bit about life and play chess with Mitch. She won a few times. Alex's parents were too stubborn to accept her consolation in the form of company, but she didn't give up. After a few cookies and a few letters making sure they were alright, she got invited for dinner. She took Bobby with her and they talked about Alex like they had known each other for the longest time. His parents had many regrets and it pained Rose to see it, so she reassured them, from a daughter's perspective, that Alex loved them with all his heart. When she went to college, they lost contact, but the great memories lingered and that helped both families. That's how Rose found her love for social work and the house she wanted to live in the future: someday she wanted to buy Alex's house.

  Death was about how Bobby tried helping Reggie's parents. He looked for them everywhere, but they moved out of town. Bobby even went to Lily's work - nobody knew about her. All his strength was dedicated to honor his friends and their music, so when he didn't find Reginald's parents, he decided to be famous and let them come to him. He worked day and night, finishing the songs, working multiple shifts to get money for a demo and doing his best to be more social. He needed connections, luck and money to make his plan of honoring his friends work. All he had was determination and he hoped that could be a start.

   Death was about all that and many lives affected by the loss of Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer and Luke Patterson.

  2002

  The baby cried with such intensity and still his parents were never more delighted by any sound they've ever heard.

  - Welcome to the world, Richie.

  2018

  The clouds were matching Lucas' humor: grumpy, dark and bothered.

  He wanted to go back to the cafe, to explain his situation to Jarred and Lisa, but his guitar was stolen and his face was still bruised from his last fight. He couldn't just show up and act like everything was alright like he would usually do.

  Living in the streets was easier than staying in the system. The houses he had been to, the families that treated him like a piece of salvation just like the catholic church and indulgences… he was done with that. At least he was trying to make sure he could live freely; as free as a homeless teenager could be.

  He was in a park somewhere when the rain started pouring. At first it was shy. In a matter of seconds, the sky was falling down and Lucas was laughing at his luck. No guitar, no family, no food, no place to go. Lonely, cold and irritated, he started singing as loud as he could. No one was nearby and the world was his.

  There was so much anger in his throat that it pained the boy a little. He was mad, sad and even confused to why he couldn't just fit in. Find a family, have a house, go to school and have friends. The closest thing he had was Richie - the cheerful boy made him feel at ease for the first time in years. They connected instantly, playing together at Alex's Foundation for musicians/people that liked music.

  He wouldn't call everybody there musicians; some people were terrible singers.

  Lucas missed Richie so much. Even though the boy didn't know about his housing situation, he'd always be selfless and give him food. There was one time Richie even gave Lucas his jacket, because, according to Richie, Lucas looked cold. The boy was the brother Lucas wanted, the person worth smiling at, the best friend.

  After a while, the sky stopped crying and Lucas went to his usual spot, close to a 24 hour diner. Sometimes the waiter would be nice enough to give him bread or fries. He never expected anything though; he would just sit and wait. Wait for life, for salvation, for hope, for someone.

  That night Lucas found Richie, Rose and death.

  After the rain, life would never be the same.

[fanfic-fanfic-everywhere]

In the Clouds

Felix Volturi X Reader 

Request for @prettyinblack231  

Word Count: 2,306 

One thing was for sure, word spread fast in the supernatural world. The Cullen’s had successfully escaped a stand off with the Volturi with their entire coven intact. You had meant to go be a witness for them, you really had. However, your fear, like many others, prevented you from that. Now with the fear of your immortal life ending gone, you had to see this strange child for yourself. 

That’s how you found yourself standing in their backyard hesitantly making your way up their steps. 

A large man met you at the door, “Hi, can I help you?” He smiled a half smile to appear less threatening. 

‘Emmett, it’s her!!” a small woman suddenly appeared at his side. She was smiling like you were the best thing she had ever seen. Your knitted brow must’ve reminded her you were out of the loop. 

“My name’s Alice! You’re (Y/N), right?” She grabbed your hand and pulled you into the doorway. 

“That’s me,” you nervously smiled. 

“Well, I know you’re just here to meet Reneseme, but I really think you’re going to like it here!” She chirped. 

And she was right. Once you had met all of the members of the Coven, you had fallen in love with their family. And three days later, when Carlise asked you if you would like to join them, you swore you cried on the inside. From there began two months of changes, mostly to your diet, laughter, and just overall peace with the Coven and within yourself. 

In the first week of March, Alice had a vision. Edward, Carlise, and herself kept it very secretive; you would catch them whispering in tones so low you only caught bits and pieces. 

None of what you caught raised much alarm in you, until you caught a very key phrase,” If the Volturi are coming…” 

“The Volutri are coming?” you asked in alarm without thinking. 

Nine pairs of eyes were immediately on you. 

Edward heaved a big sigh as Carlise smiled gently at you, “Yes, (Y/N). They’re just coming to check on Renesemes growth and our Coven. As far as we know, it’s just the Upper Guard, so they won’t be much interested in anything, but her.” Little did you all know that he was so very wrong. 

Two days later you found yourself standing in the backyard, where your time with the Cullen’s had begun. The guard was coming, and you weren’t very good at hiding your anxiousness from your family. 

Rosalie smiled over at you and rubbed your upper back,” It’ll be fine.” 

You offered her a small smile. In your almost 15 years of being a vampire you had never met any of the Volturi. Your situation wasn’t uncommon. Most vampires who follow the laws and lay low enough may never meet them, you only wished you had been so lucky. 

When they broke through the clearing your eyes immediately darted around in an attempt to not look them in the eyes. You settled on staring at a small dandelion by your foot. It was nearly spring now, so the common weeds were starting to pop through what grass had decided to grow back. You made a mental note to talk to Esme about spraying around the house with weed killer later. 

“She’s grown,” came a smug yet feminie voice. You spared a glance upward to look at its owner. This was Jane no doubt. She stood at the front of a small diamond formation the four of them had decided to make. To her left stood a boy who looked identical, only slightly taller, you were for sure this was Alec. His gift was to be feared more than his sisters in your eyes. The mere thought of feeling nothing, seeing nothing, and just not being able to sense anything made your immortal skin crawl. 

“It was expected that she would.” Edward's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you watched as he shifted himself slightly in front of his daughter.  

“It was merely an observation,” said the man to Jane’s right. This must’ve been Demetri. The greatest tracker known to your kind, able to hone in on exactly where anyone is in the world by just the tenor in the voice. He was also a casanova from what Rosalie had told you. 

“You’ve added to your coven,” a deep voice that nearly floored you with how smooth and inviting it sounded observed from behind Demetri. 

Panic set into your chest as Carlise turned to smile at you, and then back to the guards. 

“This is (Y/N), she was looking for a place to stay and joined us about two months ago.” He explained. 

“Where are you originally from, (Y/N)?” the same voice inquired. You hadn’t met his eyes or looked at him yet, but you knew who he was. The whole vampiric world knew who he was. The executioner. 

“New York, a nomad changed me by accident.” You replied, looking up at him finally. You met his eyes in a bold move, and if you had still been human the wind would’ve been knocked right out of your lungs. He was gorgeous with a face you swore was sculpted by the Gods themselves. He gasped as if he had felt the same gut punch you had and the playful glint that had been in his eyes disappeared and turned into anger. You weren’t quite sure what you had done, so you stumbled a step backward to only bump into Jaspers chest. Jasper wrapped a hand around your upper arm and held you in place as your family, and the remaining guards, watched Felix turn and storm back into the woods from which he had come. You weren’t sure why, but this action from him panged your heart as if he had hurt you. 

You tore your eyes from where he had disappeared into the woods to find a mix of red and yellow eyes on you. You felt the panic rise your chest again, and the familiar twangs of a panic attack set into your body. You barely felt Jasper speeding you into the house and up to your room. Shouts from outside rose into your room, forcing you to listen to the confusion and then the outcry from Jane and Alec as they realized what had just happened. 

The executioner had found his mate. Felix Volutri, who was determined he’d never find his other half, had found it in you. 

A breathless sob that seemed to go on for minutes wracked the Cullen household. It seemed to shake the windows, and rattle your bookshelves. Once it ended you only then realized it had come from you. 

Gentle hands your shoulders, and on instinic your own hands flew up to grab their forearms. 

“What just happened?” Your eyes shot up to meet Esme’s. 

“You found your mate,” she half smiled in the motherly manner that made you miss your own mother so much, “The feelings that come with it are powerful as you can tell. I’m sure he’s just overwhelmed. He’ll come back.” 

Esme’s words seemed logical. It felt as if your whole world had been flipped upside down. The ground from under your feet had been ripped away like a tablecloth in a bad magic show. You were now standing on the gray clouds that plagued the Washington skies, and the only person that could ever stand on them with you was Felix. 

Only, he never came back to stand on the clouds with you. He left you to swelter in the storm that came slowly in the following months. And as it started to rain from your feet, you felt the burning in your heart. It only started to thunder the day you received a rather strongly worded voicemail from an Italian number. The thunder was his words. It rumbled in his voice telling you that he would rather be torn to pieces than be mated to you. A vegetarian coward, he had called you. You’re just too scared to own up to the fact you’re damned whether you kill humans or not, he had told you. And then the lightning started every time you listened to his voice. His words startled you like the thunder, but the sound of his voice electrified you from the inside out. Eventually the skies grew darker than they ever had been, and so did your eyes. What was the use of feeding if the very person made for you didn’t want you to exist. 

The winds turned violent the day Bella had grabbed you to try and force you to eat. You grabbed her hands off of you and threw her away from you. The moment you had realized what you had done, you ran and didn’t stop. 

You picked back up your human diet and in a violent way. You were turning reckless, and you couldn’t force yourself to care. If the Volturi wanted you dead maybe he would do it. Maybe you’d hear his voice one last time, and in your final moments feel his hands on you like you craved. Your craving for him had far out wayed your craving for blood anymore. Several times you had almost booked a flight to Italy, but then you listened to his voicemail again. He clearly didn’t want you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t tell him how you felt. 

So as you sat on top of a building looking down into Times Square, you hit redial. It rang for several seconds until you heard a click. No voicemail message blurted out at you. Someone had answered; how your dead heart hoped it was him. 

“I don’t know if it’s you,” you began,” But if it is please listen to me. All I ask is for two minutes.” 

No one answered, and yet no one hung up. You let out a shaky laugh. 

“Why would you just leave? All you know is my name and where I’m from. You know nothing of my past, just like I know nothing of yours,” you breathed out,” But what’s done is done. I’m drowning. I left Cullen's months ago. I’m more violent now than I ever was as a newborn. I picked my human blood diet back up; I was only vegetarian because I was with them.” 

You swallowed hard, and paused, hoping for a response.

When you got none you sighed again,” I’m reckless. I feel like that's the only way I’m ever going to see you again. I listen to your voicemail and the hurtful words you say to me because that's the only time I feel anything anymore. I want to do something stupid like exposed myself in hopes that you and the guard come find me and kill me. Because even though I don’t know you, I can't live without you.” 

You were dry sobbing now, “If this is goodbye forever, Felix, then so be it.” 

Heaving a great sigh you quoted,” I love you with so much of my heart, that there is none left to protest. Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespear, Act 5 Scene 1,” and pressed end. 

You fell back onto the roof and studied the night stars. You laid there until early in the morning when the peaks of the sunrise came from above the buildings. Gathering yourself from the rooftop you made a short walk in the alleyways to your apartment. Jiggling the keys in the door you swung it open to only stop and stare. 

There he stood. Felix. His chocolate hair was shaggier now, it suited him better as it framed his face. The black sweater he wore was form fitting showing almost every single detail in his arm muscles. The Volturi crest hung from his neck and landed in the middle of his chest. You raised your eyes to meet his pained ones. 

Pulling the keys from the door you shut it behind you, and placed your keys on the kitchen counter beside the door. Then did you notice his suit jacket draped over your kitchen chair, and a black phone sitting, abandoned, on the counter. 

You tore your eyes away from the phone back to him, “You’ve been here all night.” 

He nodded, and reached out a hand to you. You slipped yours into it; it felt right, you were sure nothing would feel more right. Until he pulled you into his arms. Your hands were placed firmly on him; one on a firm mass of muscle on his shoulder and the other firmly squeezing his hand. You were sure that if you let go he would disappear again, only this time forever.

The only thing keeping you from thinking that this wasn't a hallucination or death, was the way his arm firmly grasped your waist and pulled your chest into him. You stared into each other’s eyes and swayed to the invisible music that flowed in your heads. 

He looked regretful, “I’m so sorry. How can I make it up to you?” 

You smiled softly,” We have only forever to make up for this time lost.”

 He looked thankful as you leaned your head into his chest. You felt his cool lips lightly brush your forehead, as you continued to sway. The morning sun was now beating into the windows, and on to both of your skin. The room filled with rainbow specs, as he twirled you once, only to pull you back in. You stilled with both hands now on his chest. He covered your hands with his own and squeezed. 

A dazzling smile was flashed at you as he quoted from the same Shakespearean play you had only hours earlier, “And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts did thou first fall in love with me?” 

-Admin Magda 

(I honestly love Felix, and would die for this tall boi! As always thank you for reading, and request are open! Comments and feedback are always welcome!) 

[ardentmuse]

Perchance a Parchment (George Weasley x Reader) - Part 5

Harry Potter - George Weasley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: In the aftermath of their failed meet-up, MC builds the confidence to do a few things she’s always needed to do and George finds the courage to follow his heart.

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

A/N: Not how I expected to spend this morning, so I hope you all enjoy this surprising update.

As you hung the last of the signs advertising your last big hurrah, a bookfest filled with live readings, stage performances, children’s theater, and sales galore, Patricia finished sending the last of the owls to the authors you wished to be featured.

You slumped down on your respective chairs in the middle of the store. But you only got settled when you heard the chime of the doorbell.

“Where’s my sweet girl?” Tom called from the door. It was hard to see his head over the giant pile of boxes and bags from the various local sellers. With two great strides, he dropped the bags unceremoniously upon your counter before turning and offering you both a giant, cheeky grin.

But his face fell the minute he saw the decorations and posters you had placed around the store advertising your big event this weekend.

“What’s all this?”

“Our last push to try and save the shop,” you said as you stood to offer him a hug, and to ask a few questions.

He huffed, “Don’t bother.” And before you could process the shock of those words, your face contorting into a horrible scowl, he barrelled forward with his own monologue. “Bill Weasley was promoted this week, something regarding ministry relations--”

“Don’t say the name Weasley in my shop, Thomas,” you mumbled under your breath. But Tom was a bulldozer, completely ignoring your obvious cues of discomfort.

“-- but it doesn’t matter. With his promotion comes my promotion! Gringotts has decided to transfer all of his territories to me. We leave for Egypt Saturday!”

Your mouth fell open in shock.

“Isn’t that great, babe?” Tom asked, clearly dissatisfied with your response, though it seemed he would have been dissatisfied with anything that wasn’t you flinging your arms around his neck, kissing him profusely, and deeming him your savior.

After a few seconds of you still not saying anything, the only sound the movement of Patty to excuse herself from the clearly tense situation, Tom pressed forward. He reached a hand into one of the bags, pulling out a lovely powder blue silk scarf, woven with silver string in the shape of stars.

“For the sand. Don’t you like it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to process the level of anger you are feeling. Tom just assumed you would drop your life to pursue his dreams, didn’t even once stop to ask you first. You always knew Tom was ambitious and loved your desire to adventure, but you were older now, more boring maybe. You wanted stability, to dig deep and make roots. After years of living light, your heart called so strongly to be heavy. And you had hoped Tom’s heart called for that too…

“Tom, I’m not going to Egypt with you.”

“Oh, Merlin, babe, I’m--” he stopped his cheerful ramble when he realized what you had actually said. He dropped the cloth upon the counter. “Are you serious?”

You sighed, “I have a shop to run.”

“That will be closed in a week!” Tom protested. “I know you are worried about money, but don’t be, Y/N. I’ve got us covered. You don’t need to do anything but let me take care of us.”

“This isn’t about money, Tom!” you found yourself screaming, “This is about having something that’s mine. I don’t want to just follow you around my whole life. I’m my own person. I have my own goals.”

Tom grabbed your shoulders in his large hands, trying to stabilize you. It was a gesture that would normally feel supportive but today only made you feel suffocated.

“I know, I know, and I want you to. You can write a book or do charity work or focus on starting our family. Come on, sweetie. Be realistic. I love your drive, but does it have to be here in this crudy shop over some old books?”

You found yourself being lulled by the sweet timbre of his voice - maybe travelling the world again and writing a book beside him wouldn’t be a bad thing - until he said that one word.

“Crudy?”

You pulled away harshly.

“We both know this was just a pipe dream. Very few businesses make it on Diagon Alley. Most of the shops have been here hundreds of years. Well, except the Weasleys.”

“DON’T SAY THE NAME WEASLEY IN MY SHOP, THOMAS!” you screamed this time, causing your boyfriend to throw up his hands in mock terror.

Realizing how much things had escalated, you both pause and breathe. You take a seat down upon your chair, processing what Tom just told you. He never supported you or your dream. You loved him, yes, and he loved you, too. But it seems you may have loved shadows of yourselves. Tom loved the you of three years ago, the one who found more happiness upon his arm than on her own two feet. And you loved a Tom who helped you find home after years of running, the one who taught you what connection was, even if he wanted that connection to only be with himself alone.

“I don’t love you,” you breathed out loud, only now realizing the freeing weight of saying the words out loud.  “I mean, I love you the way I love any friend but I don’t love you.”

You looked up from your hands to take in Tom’s face, blank and cold and only slightly confused.

“You don’t love me?”

Your eyes scanned his square jaw that you used to love running your fingers across, the lips that used to draw yours forward in lust or longing, the curls you used to pull in passion or pat in comfort, and the eyes that bore into you now in question, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long you had hoped he might be someone else. Had it been always? Had you been so blind to not see that what you loved was having someone, not this someone in particular?

“No,” you whispered with a slight shake of your head.

Thomas let out a deep breath before staring at the ceiling of your shop. His back pressed hard against the counter as he let his grip grow tighter. After a moment, his gaze turned to you once more. But you didn’t see the pain there that you had imagined. Just a stray tear and something akin to relief.

“I don’t love you either,” he admitted. “I hoped I might someday, but–” he cut himself off with another huff before taking a step towards you. “You are my best friend. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re beautiful. We were perfect for each other.”

Tom flung himself down into the chair beside you. His hand inched towards your own and for once you didn’t feel the desire to pull away.

“Where’d we go wrong?”

You laughed, gripping the fingers of your best friend tightly for the first time in a long time -- not that you hadn’t held hands recently. Sometimes it felt like you were attached at the hands because that was what couples do. But it had been a very long time you only now realized that you could call Tom your best friend.

“Maybe in thinking friendship wasn’t enough for us? Not everything nice on paper makes sense in practice.”

Tom smiled at you genuinely before kissing your knuckles.

“You’ve always been wiser than me,” he said while returning your hand to you. “I think in the back of my head I always knew but–”

“This was easy?” you asked. He simply nodded in confirmation.

Tom stood and walked towards the counter. He collected the bags he brought in but upon picking up the blue scarf, he placed it back on the counter again with a pat.

“You deserve better than easy, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You smiled at him, the full weight of the situation hitting you finally like a freight train. Was it possible to feel relief so acute and sadness so intense that they cancel each other out like two trains hitting head-on until each was halved and mangled, much smaller and much more dangerous?

You felt the tears begin to hit your eyes now but not at the loss of Tom but at the loss of all the stability you had spent years creating – your store, your relationship, your community, and your Rhubarb.

Tom tapped the scarf once more. “In case a vacation to Egypt seems like your next adventure. I promise you’ll have a couch to crash on, friend.” The last word sounded strange on his tongue, like a test more than sentiment. You found you could get used to it.

“I’ll take you up on that, once–”

“I know,” he said as a tear fell down his cheek. He moved forward and leaned it to kiss you like he always did when he left the shop, though this time he paused and redirected, his lips finding your forehead with precision. He held himself to you long and lasting, his tears salting your head.

You couldn’t even look at him as he walked towards the door. You heard the chime and felt your heart clench as your world fell apart in earnest. You let yourself cry now for real, letting the waves of sorrow rake your body.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask,” Tom started from the door.

You popped your head up and rubbed your eyes, damning that this would be the last he’d see of you before you reunited as friends, a gross snotty mess unable to compose herself.

“Is there someone else?” he asked, almost embarrassed at himself for asking the question, realizing he had no right now to care.

But you smiled despite yourself.

“I hope, someday.”

Tom nodded, the smile on his lips, too. “Me too.”

And with that he walked out of your shop and your life for the foreseeable future, one more part of the pristine life you had built for yourself disappearing down the lane. But unlike everything else, this one felt right and good, like you were regaining part of your strength. There was hope now for that passionate love you had told Rhubarb your heart desired, even if you had no prospects at the moment. Rhubarb, Tom, and the insufferable George Weasley you angered yourself at realizing, had given you a gift in showing you not to content yourself with just okay ever again.

George sat at the desk of his childhood home, nursing slowly the tea his mother had given him staring at a blank parchment. He was in love he now realized. And the right thing to do would be to let his love move on with her life. He had caused enough harm already.

With a huff, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into the bin.

“Leave her be, you git,” he said to himself, “You destroyed her business, you led her on and stood her up. You hurt her and she deserves so much better than you.”

“Better than George Fabian Weasley?” Fred said from the door, “There is no such thing. Well, other than his more dashing twin.”

Fred threw himself down on his own childhood bed. The mattress was the same but the linens were now pink and the duvet a brilliant mint green with silver sparkles, prepared for Victoire’s monthly sleepovers.  

It clashed with Fred’s hair greatly.

“So what are we going to do about this?”

George turned in his chair to see Fred reclining on his side, his head propped on his arm and a hickie prominent upon his neck. George felt the anger grow in him just a little at how easily Fred could find a woman to warm his bed– not that George wanted a bed warmer. He wanted a heart warmer, a life warmer. He wanted you, not that he had any right to.

“There’s nothing to do. We’ve done enough.”

Fred tisked loudly.

“Nothing is set in stone, Georgiepoo.” And with a flourish, he pulled a flyer out of his pocket and tossed it to his twin.

The flyer laid out upon the desk, pristine and thick just like the parchments you always send his way.

“Story Extravaganza?” George read out loud. “What is this?”

Fred just smiles, relaxing further into his bed. “It’s your girl fighting back.”

George smiles at Fred’s phrasing. He inspects the flyer carefully, impressed by how well you seem to know your customers to provide him so many things they might enjoy.

“And,” Fred begins, his voice growing more sly, “She may be fighting for you, too.”

Fred lays another piece of parchment on the desk next to Fred, one in your own script with the same flourish he’d grown so accustomed to seeing on the parchment.

Rhubarb,

I waited for you last night and you didn’t show up. I felt so foolish. I wish I understood what held you back, but I may never know.

Even if you wish to cut ties with me, I wanted to let you know that these talks of ours have given me the courage to do something I wasn’t sure I ever would be able to do. I spoke my mind to someone last night, someone who probably didn’t even care to hear what I have to say. This big shot business guy came by while I was waiting for you. I was probably not as nice as I could have been but I was direct with what I thought. I didn’t shrivel away out of fear of how I might be perceived. I fought for what I feel I deserve. It may not have been my proudest moment mouthing off to my enemy but it meant the world to me to know that you had part in building in me that kind of strength.

Thank you.

With Fred at his back, George tried to put pen to paper once more, this time knowing what he actually needed to say.

You were busy in your office intercepting a ton of notes from various local authors, almost all of whom were excited to make an appearance at the store either to promote new work or engage with readers. A few were even bringing excerpts of unpublished manuscripts to read and one of your favorite children’s authors was bringing along a band to perform some songs for the kids.

Everything was falling into place for a big celebration. Even if you didn’t make enough money to keep the store open — hell, you weren’t even sure your landlord would consider leasing to someone other than the Weasley’s at this point — it would be a great last hurrah. This was why you started the shop in the first place— to give the community a place to celebrate stories, creativity, and imagination. At the end of the day, it was always about community.

So when a certain snowy owl dropped a letter upon the incoming stack and greeted Diomedes with soft nips of her neck feathers, you didn’t notice. It wasn’t until you had sliced through the seal and saw the handwriting that the air left your chest.

My dear Cherry,

There’s no excuse for letting you sit there alone yesterday. I can’t explain where I was but I pray you will forgive me for leaving you.

I am proud of you and I can guarantee whatever you said did not fall on deaf ears. The break from your kind spirit could not have gone unnoticed. Whatever transgression he caused you surely deserved the words you tossed his way and I am sure you looked beautiful doing it.

I regret that you found yourself in that situation, though. You were expecting a friend and found an enemy instead. I am sorry for causing you that pain.

I’ll explain some day. I promise. But in the meantime, I am still here. I am still listening. Talk to me, sweetheart.

Rhubarb

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills​, @hazelandcoconuts​, @yallgotkik​, @amberkay284​, @13ofjuly​, @daft-not-punk​, @sapphireorchid​, @geek-lass​, @ietss​, @garbdump​, 

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot

Perchance a Parchment tags: @cucumberinmyass, @justducky0423, @thequeen-ofnerds, @yuaasa, @comic-creature, @hermionebennet, @semicharmedkindofali, @sugerquill, @can-i-fangirl-yet​, @doct0rstrange, @igotmadskills, @otherthingsinhead, @olixerwxxd, @caramiriel, @gryffinclxw, @lizmar20, @indicisive-af, @confettidreameryouwhoreo-blog, @hellizhelusive2, @kaitsubaki, @dooriha, @justfollowtheroad, @memogorgon, @xxsophie-raabxx, @madamcadaver, @bookscoffeeandracoons

[aquariuscurly94]

Being a Roommate with a Half-Demon

Chapter One

Summary: All she wanted was a new beginning at her dream city of Tokyo. She didn't think that she'll meet a hot headed hanyo (apparently those exist) & be his roommate. She also didn't think that both of their pasts would collide and haunt them both in ways they even they couldn't imagine. SLOWBURN! AU!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Inuyasha just the plot Warning: this story will contain mentions of domestic violence throughout the story please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it.

Roommate Wanted

Single male looking for a roommate, rent is $800 a month. Must be okay with me working nights and returning early mornings. Must know how to clean and cook for yourself. Also, you must be okay with me being a half-breed.

Kagome Higurashi leaned back on the chair that she was sitting on, her finger pressing lightly on the mouse pad on her laptop, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully as she reread the Craigslist ad that she had stumbled upon earlier.

The ad was quite interesting to her because she’s been looking for a place of her own for quite sometime now ever since she had moved to her dream city of Tokyo. However, it would’ve been harder on her if she lived by herself so she decided to scroll through this website Craigslist in hopes that someone would post an ad about wanting a roommate. Sure enough, she found an ad within minutes of her search.

“What did he mean by half-breed?” She wondered out loud, wondering why he would put that on his ad. She doesn’t understand what could it mean. She never heard of that term before.

She shrugged her shoulder as she continued to scroll down the roommate ad, trying to find some sort of phone number but instead all she could find was an email that was attached to the bottom of the ad.

Kagome sighed heavily underneath her breath, turning around to look over her shoulder at her medium size hotel room, thinking long and hard about what she should do. She stared at her half unmade bed, her belongings that she managed to get were laying on the foot of the bed. It has only been a couple of months since she started staying at this hotel. Meaning it’s been a couple of months since she had escaped.

Escaped.

The young raven haired woman still feels like she was on edge, wondering each and everyday if he’ll somehow come back and find, forcing her to come back to him, or worse.

Her whole body started to shiver violently at the thought, trying to remind herself over and over that he’s in jail and won’t be able to see the light of day again after what he had put her through. All that mattered now is that she’s safe, she’s alive, she’s in the city of her dreams and was finally starting over for the better.

Kagome closed her mahogany eyes as she took several long deep breath through her nose to calm herself down at the thought of starting over. “Your safe,” she whispered quietly, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “He’s not here. He’s in jail. You. Are. Safe Kagome.”

She sighed in relief when her shivers had finally settled down and glanced at the ad once more, debating if she should respond to it and send this Inuyasha guy a email.

She knew from the email that was attached to the ad the person’s name was Inuyasha. However, there was no mention of a last name.

Kagome noticed a date that Inuyasha had wanted the person to move in by, smiling when she saw that it’s near the time range for when she starts her new job as a full time medical records specialist at Tokyo University Hospital. She laughed at the fate and about the opportunity that’s sitting in front of her like Kami knew that they were looking out for her.

Her small fingers drummed lightly on the mouse pad, trying to do the math inside her head. The email specifically stated that the person that’s interested should have the first month’s rent. Kagome should have plenty of money that she had stashed away in her savings account. Just enough for the first month’s rent and she’ll be starting her new job soon after!

Again, she strongly believes that Kami’s looking after her.

“Alright,” Kagome muttered, clicking the reply button at the top of the email before she changes her mind. “Let’s do it!” She smiled warmly at the screen, pursing her lip while she typed out a response, hoping that he would respond soon and quick after she had pressed the send button above the screen.

It was the sound of a loud bleeping noise that was coming from a phone that sat laying face down on a small black night stand that awoke a sleeping silver haired hanyo from his sleep.

One of his ears that sit on top of his head flickered at the sound, making one of his golden eyes open up slightly when the annoying sound made that bleeping noise again, telling him that there’s a email that needs to be open.

“Could’ve swore I put that damn thing on fucking silent.” He muttered groggily, reaching over with a clawed hand to grab his phone, wondering who had sent him a email.

He moaned when he had checked the time on the screen and muttered out a few curses underneath his breath when he saw that the time had read 5:30PM, not even close enough for him to be up which would be around eight before his club that open opens at 9:00PM.

He used an elbow to prop himself up on his bed, lifting an eyebrow with interest when the email had caught his eye.

It seems like it was a response to his roommate ad that he had posted from about a week ago from that website Craigslist, a website that his long time friend Miroku had talked to him about one day. You could literally post any type of ad you want. No questions asked.

“Huh, someone’s actually interested?”

He used a clawed finger to click on the email so he could fully read the message, cocking his head to the side which made his long mane of silver hair cascade down over his shoulder.

Hi Inuyasha!

My name is Kagome, and I’m sending out this email in regards to your roommate ad that I saw on Craigslist! I am highly interested in being your roommate! And I can definitely give you the first month’s rent right away! Please respond as soon as you can!!

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at the email, slightly taken aback that someone’s actually interested in being his roommate after he had read it several times to make sure that he was reading it correctly.

He growled lowly, thinking that it has to be some sort of trick. There’s no way that someone would be willing to live with someone that was a disgusting half breed like him. He made it specifically clear that whoever responds to the ad had to be okay with him being a hanyo and couldn’t believe that someone actually responded.

Again, it had to be a trick.

Inuyasha hummed when he looked back at the email, wondering if this *Kagome* person was a human woman or a demon, frowning when he couldn’t find any description of her in the message. Should he even respond to her?

Inuyasha placed his phone back down on the night stand and stood up from his bed, yawning loudly as he stretched out his arms above his head, making his muscles pop from the tension from sleep. He grabbed a random shirt that was laying randomly on the floor to slip over his head and made his way over towards the kitchen.

“Might as well make some dinner.” He said quietly, turning on the stove and went underneath a cabinet to grab a small pot so that way he could make a quick bowl of ramen noodles.

After his ramen was done cooking, he made his way back to his room and sat down on his bed, using a pair of chopsticks to scoop up his delicious noodles that he loves so much into his mouth.

It took him about eight bites before he finally place the empty bowl on his nightstand, burping after the last noodle went down his throat, sighing when he side glanced at his phone that’s next to the bowl.

It has been a full week since he had made that ad about wanting to find a roommate. Truth to be told, he honestly didn’t think that someone would actually respond to it or even be interested. He was actually going to delete it once he had woken up. However, it could really help him out, especially since the recent events that had happened this past month.

Inuyasha snarled angrily when he thought back of a heated argument that had transpired between him and his elder half brother Sesshomaru. He still couldn’t believe that he had cut him off completely! All because he didn’t want to join him and the stupid corporate lifestyle by working at their dad’s company as Sesshomaru’s right hand man.

Inuyasha had never saw himself working at Taisho’s Inc. He had always dream of having something of his own without his last name being attached to it. Thank Kami he had managed to open up a club using what he had left in savings, thanking Kami again that it’s actually doing quite well despite being a new night scene.

Even so, a roommate could really help him keep his lights on and indoors.

“Damn it,” he huffed out, reaching over to grab his phone and clicked on the email to send out a quick response before turning off his phone completely so he could shower and get dress for the evening, getting mentally prepared for work in hopes for another packed night.

“Thank Kami its fucking Friday.” He said out loud while he was washing off the suds of soap from his body. “Hopefully she’ll actually show up.”

Kagome,

If you are truly interested in being my roommate, I need to meet you before we can make final arrangements. Meet me at Club Tessaiga at 11:00PM. Don’t be late.

~Inuyasha

A/N: Here is chapter one of my story!! I’m mainly going to post it on my A03 and FF account! My user name on both of those are CurlyBookWriter94 :) please let me know you guys think of it :)

[atths--twice]

Onto the next chapter! 

The Eighth Month 5b/6

Chapter Two 

Evening at the Hotel

Needing to stay out of the house while the paint fumes recede, Scully enjoys an afternoon to herself and the evening with Mulder.

Scully stepped into the hotel room, with the bellhop right behind her. He had insisted on carrying her bag, even though it was not heavy. He was a sweet Southern young man, about mid 20’s. He had told her on the elevator ride up that his mama and his grandma would tan his hide if they knew he had let a pregnant woman carry her own bag. She had laughed and thanked him, touching his arm.

He set the bag down on the bed and asked if she needed anything else. She smiled and said no, handing him a twenty dollar bill and thanking him for his help, and grasping his hand. He stammered that she gave him way too much for a tip, but she shook her head and said that his kindness and helpfulness was much appreciated. He looked at her and thanked her, telling her if she needed anything, he would be happy to help her. She smiled and locked the door behind him as he left.

She leaned against the door and looked around. This was a really nice hotel room. All the furniture was a dark colored wood. The bed cover was cream with beautiful detailing in it. The pillows were fluffy and the whole room smelled wonderful.

She walked into the bathroom and gasped. There was a bathtub big enough for two people. There were jets in the tub and she knew she was going to be using those later. The shower was big and had a seat in it. She smiled at the memory of the shower seat in a hotel in California, so many years ago, and touched her swollen belly. Definitely would not be using that tonight.

The sinks were standalone deep bowl sinks, with counters in between. The mirrors were big and the lights able to dim. This was probably the nicest hotel she had ever stayed.

Mulder. God, she loved that man. Loved him for the care he took to do all that was needed at home, but also to give her this luxurious night out. He knew just how to get to her. The pampering and spoiling she rarely did for herself, he saw to it for her. He had his faults, but his sweetness and thoughtfulness made up for them in spades.

She walked back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Sighing as she slipped off her shoes, she fell back on the bed. Oh god, it was comfortable. She turned on her side and stretched.

She was tired, but the day had actually been fun and not as cringe worthy as she had imagined. Either baby showers had changed since her last one, or someone must have made an effort to not have the embarrassing games she had imagined. Instead, they had a nice luncheon, played a couple of fun games, chatted and opened presents. In total, there had been about twenty women in attendance. She had received wonderful gifts and had been incredibly grateful for the ones who had given them.

She felt a sense of guilt that she had complained to Mulder about going to the party. It was not as bad as she thought. Yes, some of the women were more bubbly than she was used to, but they were kind and attentive to her.

One young woman in particular, Dr. Stevens, Annabelle, had been extremely kind and sweet. She had approached Scully almost shyly, and told her that she had admired her work for years now, but had never had the courage to tell her. The papers Scully had written, the cases she had worked on, were amazing and awe inspiring. She had great respect for her.

Scully had been taken aback, not one to bask in the praise. She had thanked her, but could see that she had more to say. She had invited her to sit next to her as they ate, and Annabelle’s eyes lit up.

During the meal, she had plagued Scully with questions. She had wanted to know what made her decide on her specialty, when she knew she wanted to be a doctor, was it true she also worked at the FBI, how that factored into her work as a doctor, and what her plans were after she had the baby.

Scully had looked at her and Annabelle blushed to the roots of her hair. She had apologized profusely for asking so many personal questions and looked down at her plate ad Scully had smiled. She had recognized the thirst for knowledge and also the exuberance of youth. Had she ever been that young? It seemed so long ago.

Scully had answered her questions and then asked her where she worked at the hospital and about her specialty. Annabelle had become more animated about her own specialty and what she wanted to do in the future. Scully informed her that she had heard of her work, but had not known the name to go with the face. She had told her she was doing wonderful work and to keep continuing with it. She had offered her some advice and steps to take to reach her goals for the future.

Annabelle had blinked away tears as she told her how much her words meant to her. Scully smiled. She remembered how words of encouragement had helped her. She was happy to offer advice to fellow doctors. Especially to young women setting out on their path.

Her OB, Doctor Reynolds, Elise, had been invited as well and her friendly face was a welcome sight. She had inquired how she was, an informal checkup so to speak. They had spoken of the upcoming birth and preparations at home. Scully had told her about Mulder getting things ready and Skinner coming to help.

Elise and she had laughed at the story of the bookcase losing all the books, thus cementing Mulder’s credibility in being able to properly put furniture together. She had brought another picture for Mulder from Raina. This time it was two round people holding stick arms together and inside one person was a little face, which was “Ms. Dana’s baby.”

Scully had looked at it and her eyes filled with tears. She had dabbed at her eyes as Elise rubbed her shoulder and then put the picture in the gift bag she had brought so it would not be misplaced.

After the games, it had been time to open gifts. Annabelle had offered to write down all the items so Scully had a list. Much laughter and teasing had occurred while she opened them. She had received many cute outfits, a baby carrier and a baby wrap, supplies, baskets to store items, blankets, and many books.

There were even items for her now and after the arrival of the baby. Bubble bath, a couple bottles of red wine, and a bag of dark roasted fully caffeinated coffee beans which made her salivate and the women laugh and nod in solidarity. She strongly suspected someone got in touch with Mulder about items she liked.

After the party, Annabelle had offered to take the gifts home with her and drop them off the next day when she heard of Scully staying the night in the hotel. She was happy to help and cheerfully loaded up her car.

Elise had suggested they go out for a coffee, and so they had. It was nice and interesting to have someone to talk to besides Mulder. She would take him over them any day, but female companionship was something she was sorely lacking. She had enjoyed the couple hours she had spent with Elise. She was funny, smart, sarcastic, and had a great sense of humor. They had a fun time discussing patients who had been tough, or who had really touched their lives. Scully was pleased to find they had so much in common. She was glad they had the chance to bond a little more before the baby was born. She had left shortly after their coffee and arrived at the hotel.

She stood up now and found her phone in her bag. It was 4:00 now. Three and a half hours before she had to be downstairs to meet Mulder for dinner. Maybe she had time to squeeze in a quick nap and then a soak in that wonderful tub. She set the alarm for 5:30, took off everything but her underwear and bra, slipped under the covers into the softest sheets ever, and was asleep in minutes.

It felt as though she had barely closed her eyes when her alarm began blaring. She groaned and hit snooze. After the second time hitting the button, she knew she needed to get up.

She stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the bathtub water. When the temperature was right, she plugged it up and waited for it to fill. She used the toilet, her eyes closed and head down, still tired. The baby suddenly gave her a swift quick and she gasped, her eyes flying open.

“Jesus, little one,” she said softly, rubbing where the baby had kicked. “Try not to kick so hard.”

She stood up and took off her under things. Walking toward the tub, she caught her reflection and walked closer to the mirror. She stared at her stomach, at the way it was stretching to accommodate the growing life inside her. She marveled at the amazement of the reproduction process. How a single sperm and egg begins the process that creates a human life. How something microscopic could find the other, band together, and develop into an actual person. Two halves becoming whole.

She rubbed her stomach, the love for this child filling her heart. She closed her eyes, thinking of her other child out alone in the world. She hoped he had found people to help him on his journey, praying one day that journey would bring him back to her. To Mulder. She wanted to hold him again and see for herself that he was okay.

She opened her eyes and turned to the tub, finding it was nearly full. She saw different types of bubble bath and oils on the edge of the tub she had not noticed before. She looked at them and decided on a lavender scented oil. She added some to the bath and breathed in the scent, feeling relaxed already.

She turned the water off, put her hair up, and climbed in the tub. Oh.. it was wonderful. The tub was so deep, she could almost float around in it. She leaned back and let the lavender scent and warmth of the water soothe her.

The baby rolled and swirled in her stomach. The water seeming to propel her moving like a little fish. She smiled as she watched the movements. She remembered when she was pregnant with William how he would do the same thing; rolling all around inside of her, as she lay in the tub.

He had loved the bath when he was a baby, too. Always splashing and smiling when she put him in water. She closed her eyes as she tried not to cry. She had so few memories of his childhood and the ones she had were so precious.

She found herself wondering about his love of water. Did he always like it? Did he enjoy swimming? That exhilarating feeling of jumping in a cold pool on a hot day?

She could not stop the tears that filler her eyes. She no longer felt the guilt, but she still felt the sadness. She and Mulder had been robbed of loving their son, being his parents, being a family. She sobbed for all they had missed, all they would have had.

The baby moved around again and all of a sudden, she saw a vision of the sea. She could almost feel the wind and smell the salty air. She gasped and her heart started pounding. She knew this was Jackson. Knew he was trying to contact her. She slowed her crying, closed her eyes, and paid attention.

She saw the sand and the rocks, as if seeing it through his eyes. The water was getting closer, the setting sun shining off of it. She saw feet, toes in the water, as the waves approached and receded from the shore. Then ankles were covered with the water, sand squishing between the toes. The water was still, the ripples stopped, when she saw a face reflected in the water. Jackson was grinning at her. He put up two fingers- a peace sign. He nodded and then the vision was gone.

She opened her eyes and cried through her laughter. He was okay. He was somewhere by the sea and he wanted her to know.

Since the night he had come to her months ago, she had not had any visions. She thought he must be learning to control his abilities and it seemed that he had. He figured out how to tap into her emotions when she was thinking of him, needing assurance that he was okay. She cried and cried. Happy tears falling without stopping. He was all right and by the water. He must still love it.

She took deep breaths and turned on the tub jets, letting the bubbles swirl around her as she rubbed her stomach, making a promise to this child. No one would hurt her, or try to take her away from them. There were two of them now and they were stronger together. No harm would come to her.

She reaffirmed a promise to Jackson too, hoping he could still feel her. She would be there for him, they would be there for him, whenever he needed them. The house and they were always waiting for him to come to them, when he was ready. She wiped her face and let the bubbles relax her for just a little longer.

Turning off the jets a few minutes later, she got out of the tub, pulled the plug, and dried off with the fluffy white towel folded by the tub. She put on the robe that was hanging on the back of the door and went into the bedroom.

She had a new dress for this evening, one Mulder had not yet seen. She had bought it when she bought the one for the baby shower. She took it out of her bag and hung it up, glad the material was one that did not wrinkle easily.

It was a deep plum color, with a dark indigo satin piping crisscrossed across the chest. A matching satin sash tied around the high waist and ran the length of the dress, which fell just past her knees. The sleeves were three quarter and fitted. She had loved it before she even tried it on.

She bought new underwear too, lacy plum colored ones and a bra that matched. She planned on enticing Mulder to walk her back up to her room and she wanted to be ready.. for anything.

She took off her robe and put on her lotion before sliding on her underwear and bra and walking into the bathroom with her makeup bag. She put on her makeup a little bit differently tonight, her eyes a bit darker with more eyeliner and mascara than usual. She had a new purple eye shadow that matched her dress which she applied carefully, not wanting to overdo it. She put on lipstick in a shade she had not worn in a long time. Letting her hair down, it fell in loose waves. God bless those pregnancy hormones and prenatal vitamins; her hair was fuller than it ever had been before.

Her phone began ringing from the other room and she walked out and saw that it was Mulder calling.

“Hello?” she said with a smile.

“Scully? Can you hear me?” he shouted, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear.

“Yes, Mulder I can hear you,” she said, sitting on the bed.

“Scully? Hello?” he shouted again.

“Mulder! I can hear you!��� she shouted back, trying not to laugh.

“This fucking thing." She heard him mutter. “This Bluetooth, Scully. It never connects right. Hello?”

She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head. He always had a problem with his phone connecting to the Bluetooth in the car. She had received many frantic, expletive filled phone calls from him. He almost always gave up and put his headphones on, cursing all the while.

When she would come home, she would show him again how to connect it and he would claim he had done all that but it did not work. She would easily connect his and he would stand there, shaking his head and cursing. Sounded like she would need to give him another lesson.

“Hello?” he shouted again. “Scully, I fucking give up. I don’t have my headphones with me, so hopefully you can hear me. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 7:30. Scully? Shit! I hate this thing! Just fucking connect!” he screamed. And then the phone hung up.

She sat there and laughed at how inept he was at simple things but could phreak a phone to find information. She had to love that man.

She waited, but he did not call back. She got up and picked up her dress, taking it off the hanger and slipping it on. Oh.. she loved the color and was pleased with how good she looked, pregnant stomach and all.

She slid her shoes on, looked at her reflection one more time, then glanced at her phone. Ten minutes. Well, it would take her a few minutes to get downstairs. She also wanted to be already seated when he walked into the restaurant. She wanted to see his face when he saw her in this dress. See his wide eyes of surprise changing to desire. It never failed to arouse her.

She put her key card in her bra and left her phone behind. She would not need anything else and when they arrived at the door later and he watched her take the key out of her bra.. she knew he would be staying for a little while. Yes, she knew what she was doing.

As she arrived at the restaurant, she noticed there was a wedding reception in the large room next door. She could hear a band playing and she smiled, silently wishing the couple a lifetime of happiness.

She walked up to the restaurant hostess and gave her name. She was seated right away, with the eyes of the hostess on her stomach. Scully laughed quietly at her attempt to be nonchalant about it, but failing miserably. The hostess caught her eye and blushed as she walked away and Scully just laughed again.

She sat facing the front of the restaurant and waited. The waiter approached and she ordered some bubbly water for her and a beer for Mulder.

She saw Mulder walking up a couple minutes later out of the corner of her eye. She kept facing away until she knew he had spoken to the hostess. When she saw him looking for her, she stared straight at him.

She saw the face when he saw her, the exact one she had been hoping for. His eyes widened and his surprised gaze traveled down what he could see. His eyes had became desirous on the return trip to her face. Oh yeah, she still had it. Scoot in her boot and all that.

She saw him wave the hostess away and point to her. He walked over and his eyes burned into her. She stood up and he stopped walking, eyes roaming over her body. The waiter arrived and her attention was momentarily diverted as he set the drinks down.

Mulder made it to her side as the waiter backed away. He placed a hand on her hip and brushed his lips against her cheek, then moved to her ear.

“Jesus Christ, Scully. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look right now?” he whispered, his fingers on her hip curling in and pulling at her.

“I have some idea,” she impishly replied as he stood back and stared at her. His gaze traveled from her face, to her breasts, her legs, and stopped at her breasts again, before looking in her eyes.

“We should have just ordered room service. My god..” he said, shaking his head.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mulder,” she said letting her eyes travel over his tall frame.

He had on dark jeans and a white shirt under a black sweater she loved. He smelled amazing and she almost suggested they head upstairs, but she had made the effort to get dressed and made up. She wanted to have a nice night out with him, not knowing how many of them they had left before the baby arrived.

He shook his head and stepped back from her. He held her chair as she sat back down before taking his seat across from her. He shook his head again, as she smiled at him.

“Seriously, Scully. They need to retire that dress and let it forever be known as the “Dana Scully dress.” No one would ever or could ever hope to look as beautiful as you when they wear it. No one should even bother trying.” he said, his eyes dark, his face serious.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mulder, but it will not feed the hungry child inside me. So, let’s figure out what we’re going to have for dinner and then you can keep those compliments coming,” she said, raising her eyebrows and reaching for her menu. He laughed and reached for his as she grazed his leg with her foot and he looked at her as she smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He nodded and smiled back at her. They were quiet as they studied the menu. The waiter came up again and told them of the specials. He described a pasta with creamy tomato sauce, that made Scully’s stomach growl. She asked for that and set her menu down, looking at Mulder. He ordered a steak and potatoes, a side of fries, and a bowl of French onion soup.

The waiter looked at him, but said nothing. He left the table, taking their menus, and Scully looked at Mulder.

“Potatoes and fries, Mulder?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“Stop. The fries are for you. You know you want them and you have been craving them as long as the grilled cheese sandwiches. You won’t ever order them, but you always want them,” he said, looking at her pointedly.

He was right, and she could not argue that he was not. She had craved the oddest things. Grilled cheese sandwiches, green olives, French fries, and grape juice. God, thinking about the tart taste of the grape juice, made her mouth water. Jesus, it sounded so good.

“You want me to see if they have grape juice?” he asked with a smirk as he watched her smack her lips.

She stared at him as if his question was preposterous. But the thought of drinking that grape juice made her change her look to pleadingly. He smiled and nodded as he got up from the table.

Oh, she needed that grape juice. She watched him talk to the waiter and he shook his head. Her heart sank and she felt incredibly silly for feeling so needy for something so small.

Mulder was gone from her sight for awhile and she felt so embarrassed that he must have left the restaurant searching for grape juice. No way he would find it, if the restaurant did not have any. Where would he even look in this hotel?

She looked around again and he came walking past the hostess stand. His hands were empty and she felt strangely like she was going to break down in tears. God damn.. this was so embarrassing.

He walked up to the table and stood beside her.

“Sit down. Please,” she said quietly, begging him as she reached for his hand.

“Wait,” he said, reaching behind him and pulling out a small bottle of fancy grape juice, apparently from his waistband, and setting it on the table.

“What?!” she exclaimed, grabbing for it.

“The wedding next door,” he explained, laughing as he sat down. “I figured someone over there had to want something nonalcoholic. Turns out, kids do, Scully. Who knew huh?” He smiled at her.

He took the bottle from her and opened it up. She drank her bubbly water down in three big gulps and handed him her glass. He chuckled as he poured it in and she grabbed it back.

The first sip of it hit her tongue and her eyes rolled back in her head. At that moment, someone would have had a hard time convincing her that sex was better than taking a drink of a liquid she craved so much. She drank it down in a few gulps and she sat back, fully satisfied, and no longer caring who thought what about her.

“Good?” he asked her, a laughing smile on his face. She got up out of her chair and leaned down and kissed him. Then again, her tongue lightly grazing his.

“Ahem..” A voice said to her right side.

The waiter was standing there with the plate of fries and the salad that came with her meal. She stood up and went back to her seat, grabbing the bottle of grape juice on her way.

She poured another glassful and kept her eyes on Mulder. He was watching her, stuck between desire and trying not to laugh. The waiter set her plate of salad down in front of her and put the fries in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” Mulder said, his eyes never leaving Scully’s.

The waiter left, both of them smiling and then laughing. He grabbed a couple fries and she took a small drink before starting on her salad.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. They discussed what they had done that day and what the plan was for tomorrow. Scully told him about Annabelle bringing the gifts by tomorrow. She needed to come by at 9:00, before mass with her family. Mulder said he would be there and not to worry about it.

After they ate, and Scully finished the bottle of grape juice, the waiter asked if they wanted dessert. Scully declined and Mulder did as well. He paid the bill and they left the restaurant.

As they walked out, they heard the band playing a fast number and laughter coming from inside the wedding reception.

“You want to go crash a wedding, Scully?” Mulder asked her mischievously, taking her hand and tugging her toward the door.

“No!” she said, pulling on his hand. “It’s bad enough you somehow pilfered that bottle of grape juice. I mean, you know what that meant to me, but still. We can’t walk into someone’s wedding reception. Also, I’m not exactly inconspicuous here,” she added, motioning to her stomach.

“You look good. Better than good,” he told her, stroking her cheek. “But you’re right, Scully. It’s probably good we don’t head in there. All the attention would be on you and the bride would feel jealous. Best not to do that on her big day.”

“Mulder..” she said, but she could not stop her smile.

“And Scully, I didn’t pilfer the grape juice. I simply explained to a waiter that I had a very pregnant woman waiting for me and she needed grape juice. He said his wife just had a baby recently so he understood. Then he got it for me,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders.

His fingers moved to her hair, holding it as he stroked it down over her shoulder. They stared at one another before they both turned when they heard a slower song start. It was not the wedding band, but prerecorded music, but not a song she recognized.

Mulder extended his hand and she smiled as she took it. He pulled her close and they began to sway slowly. She took a deep breath and breathed in his scent. The aftershave he wore, but the Mulder scent she would recognize anywhere. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

She missed the beginning of the song, but the chorus hit her square in the chest. It was as if someone was describing their life. No matter what happened, always next to each other. She listened to the next part of the song more carefully.

There's something about the way that you always see the pretty view Overlook the blooded mess, always lookin' effortless And still you, still you want me I got no innocence, faith ain't no privilege I am a deck of cards, vice or a game of hearts And still you, still you want me

She felt Mulder tighten his grip on her and she knew he too was listening to the words.

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

He pulled back and looked at her. He held her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. They stared at each other. The words of the song seeming to speak directly to them.

So thank you for taking a chance on me I know it isn't easy But I hope to be worth it

Mulder leaned his forehead to hers, his hands sliding down her arms and onto her waist. They stood, swaying slightly to the music, holding onto one another. Speaking the best way they did, with no words. Relying on touch and looks to relay how they felt.

So thank you for taking a chance on me I know it isn't easy But I hope to be worth it

Oh, I always let you down You're shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I'm far from good, it's true But still I find you Next to me

As the song ended and a new one began, he pulled her tighter and whispered his love for her. His thanks, his appreciation, and his apologies. She leaned back and held his face in her hands.

“No more apologies, Mulder. Forgiveness has been granted. I love you. So much,” she said quietly before she kissed him.

He pulled her close and held her to him. The new song was faster, but still they held each other and swayed slowly.

“Could I possibly interest you in walking me upstairs? Maybe ordering some dessert from room service?” she mumbled into his chest. He laughed and pulled back, staring at her as he touched her cheek again.

“I don’t need any dessert, but I would definitely be interested in seeing you safely to your room. Making sure you make it to bed without any trouble. Or.. maybe a little trouble,” he said, raising his eyebrows and winking at her.

“You chose wisely,” she said, grabbing his hand and walking to the elevators, as he laughed behind her. “I’ve got something for you to see when we get upstairs.”

She stopped at the bank of elevators, pushed the up button, and turned to him. She leaned in and he bent his head toward her.

“Not to completely spoil the surprise, but it’s something under my dress,” she whispered in his ear.

He gave a sharp intake of breath, straightening up as the elevator doors opened. He quickly escorted her inside, pushed her against the wall, and began kissing her as the doors closed behind them. The music from the wedding reception fell silent, his love for her the only music she needed to hear.

[ofhellsbells]

@ofcupidslove​

The 21 Club, often simply 21, is an American traditional cuisine restaurant and former prohibition-era speakeasy, located at 21 West 52nd Street in New York City. The Bar Room includes a restaurant, a lounge and, as the name implies, a bar. The walls and ceiling of the Bar Room are covered with antique toys and sports memorabilia donated by famous patrons. The best known feature of 21 is the line of painted cast iron lawn jockey statues which adorns the balcony above the entrance. In the 1930s, some of the affluent customers of the bar began to show their appreciation by presenting 21 with jockeys painted to represent the racing colors of the stables they owned. There are 33 jockeys on the exterior of the building, and 2 more inside the doors.

‘21’ Club debuted America's original gourmet hamburger in 1950. It was cooked in duck fat, spiked with fennel seeds, and sold for a whopping $2.75 in an era of five- and 10-cent hamburgers. In dollar-adjusted value, that price is equivalent to over $25. The price today is $36, although the preparation has changed significantly — the current version of the ‘21’ Burger is closer to a classic hamburger, with a pickled relish and served on a brioche bun with fries on the side.

Belphegor had chosen this location (through Dean’s aid) because it served one of the best burgers in New York City while also being fancy enough that it might actually seem worthy of her. They rented out the whole restaurant for their date with Cupid, though that wasn’t to say that the rest of the restaurant would be empty. In fact, they made sure the whole restaurant would be full of loving couples. With Chastity’s help, they conducted numerous interviews with thousands of couples to make sure the restaurant would be full of only the most loving couples, so Cupid could be surrounded with a large amount of love and energy. After she finished breaking Lucifer and Levi’s curses, they imagined she would need something uplifting like that to energize her.

Once the restaurant owners understood what Belphegor was trying to do (and with a significant sum of money), they allowed Belphegor to decorate the restaurant however Belphegor wanted to. They planned out a design with Chastity’s help, but ultimately, most of the work was done by Belphegor themself. At the table Belphegor had designated as the one for their date, there were four chairs. In one of the chairs was a giant stuffed animals sloth, and in the chair opposite to it, there was a giant stack of boxes of chocolates. They put Cupid’s favorite flowers on all of the tables. Chastity had helped with that part. The flowers were actually from Cupid’s shop, but Chastity had told her that they were for a wedding. She’d even invented a pretend couple with pretend personalities to make the ruse more believable, ensuring Belphegor that Cupid had no idea the flowers were for her gift. There was one additional bouquet that Belphegor picked out themself for their table in particular. It wasn’t as cleanly or beautifully designed as the other flower arrangements, but they’d wanted to try their own hand at it too to show how much they were willing to do for her. They hung up decorations, and they cleared out some tables to make some room for a small dance floor and a stage for a band. They invited Snoop Dog, since he seemed to know a lot about love, and Bryson Bernard, who made the Cupid Shuffle and named himself after Cupid.

Belphegor was in their more confident form, dressed in a pink suit. There was a lot more effort put into their appearance this time. Their clothes weren’t oversized or wrinkled and were clearly tailored to Belphegor. Their shoes were actually tied, and their hair was neatly styled and combed. Chastity took several pictures of them in various spots both in the restaurant and out of it, along with pictures of the venue itself before she left Belphegor to wait on their date on their own.

Belphegor waited patiently at their table for Cupid to come and just entertained themself by listening to all the couples around them and watching how they interacted with each other in an attempt to understand how to be a better date for Cupid. They apparently had plenty of time for it since it was well over an hour since they’d asked Cupid to meet up with them. They hadn’t originally told her where she needed to go when they’d met up with her that morning. At the time, they’d focused more with supporting her and trying to instill her with confidence in herself. They’d brought her breakfast and kissed and bit her neck just like Dean had told them. They told her that they’d text her the directions of where to meet them once the time came for them to celebrate her birthday, so it could still stay a surprise to the very end. Then, they’d just left her to her work, so they didn’t distract her for too long. Maybe that interruption was part of why she was late, but it didn’t bother them too much. What she was doing was important, and they were proud of her no matter how long it took.

An hour started to turn into several hours, but they were still confident that Cupid would show up. “She’s coming,” they assured the staff of the 21 Club when they came to comfort Belphegor, apologizing for Cupid not being there. “She’s just running a little late is all.” They all gave Belphegor a look of pity, which they didn’t understand, and left them to continue waiting. Several people approached them like this as the hours went on. Nearly all of the couples thanked Belphegor for paying for their meals. They all assured Bells that even though this ‘didn’t work out,’ they’d still find the one someday. Belphegor didn’t know what they meant by that and primarily elected to ignore those kinds of comments altogether. There were starting to be fewer and fewer couples in the restaurant anyways, so they wouldn’t have to hear it for much longer.

Maybe she doesn’t really like you as much as you think she does, spoke the Void. Belphegor ignored them just as much, if not more. They might not have understood love that well yet, but they knew more than they did before. They were confident in the fact that Cupid loved them. She’d said it multiple times, and they’d always believe her. They knew, just as strongly, that they loved her too. It added to their resolve to stay here and wait for her no matter how long it took.

Another hour passed. All of the couples Belphegor had invited were gone now, replaced with other customers so the restaurant could keep its business going. Bryson had left too, and Snoop Dog had spent the past half hour sitting with Belphegor. “What I’m saying is fuck bitches.” 

Belphegor nodded, not understanding what he was talking about but just agreeing with him. “Fuck bitches,” they repeated.

“Exactly!” He nodded and sighed. “Aight, I better get going. I’ve got another gig in an hour, but it was cool kickin’ it with you.”

“Fo shizzle,” Belphegor grinned, quoting what he’d often said to them. “I’ll tell you how it goes once Cupid gets here and we finish our date.” 

Snoop Dog sighed and waved them off before taking off. “See you later, kid.”

“Bye!” they called after him and continued waiting for Cupid.

Eventually, it got to the point where it was near the time for the restaurant to close up. One of the waiters came out to talk to Belphegor. “So she still isn’t here yet?” he asked. Belphegor shook their head. “Well, you better order now, or you won’t be able to anymore. I can’t get her to show up any sooner, but what do you want to eat?”

Belphegor glanced over at Cupid’s empty seat. They didn’t want to order without her, but at this point they had to. “I’ll have the Speakeasy Steak Tartare, the 21 Burger, and the 21 Express.” They’d decided hours ago what they wanted to eat, but they just picked something for Cupid based on what they knew she liked. She would’ve wanted the burger, and the last thing was a dessert they could share once Cupid got here. The waiter went off to the kitchen to put in their order, and Belphegor continued waiting. After several minutes, Cupid still wasn’t here, so they sent her a text. They’d sent her several already.

[Sent 5:02 PM]: Hey, here’s the directions. [Link attached] [Sent 6:33 PM]: Don’t worry about being late. I’m still here. Take your time :) [Sent 8:21 PM]: In case you get here in the next minute or two, I’m just going to the bathroom really quick. I didn’t leave you, I promise. [Sent 10:49 PM]: They said I had to order now, so I just ordered for you. I hope that’s okay, but we can pick up something else somewhere else if you don’t like it.  [Sent 11:24 PM]: I hope things are going okay for you. I know you can do it! And if you need anything, just let me know. [Unsent 11:25 PM]: I lov

They closed their phone as the waiter arrived with their food. Belphegor thanked them, and they went off to help other tables. They waited a few more minutes, just in case Cupid got there, but in the end, they couldn’t hold back from eating their own food. They managed to finish it all, and Cupid’s food still remained untouched. As it got closer to closing time, it became clear that she wasn’t going to make it in time to eat her food at the restaurant. Belphegor asked for a to-go box, and put both her food and their dessert away. They at least had enough decency to not eat dessert without her. Still, they waited. They waited until the restaurant wouldn’t let them wait anymore.

“I’m sorry she stood you up,” said their waiter. “But honestly, with as much as you did, if she stood you up, she doesn’t deserve you.”

Belphegor scowled. “She deserves everything!” they snapped. “And you don’t know anything about her.”

The waiter held up their hands defensively. “Okayyy, but you still need to go. We’re closing for the night. I’ll have someone help you carry your things out, and you can wait outside for her if you want, but we’ve got to finish cleaning here.” Belphegor sighed, calming down a little to do what the waiter asked. The remaining staff carried their things outside, and Belphegor sat on the steps to the restaurant, still waiting.

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

Homecoming

Word Count: 6,800+ (chapter 6) [AO3]

(chapter 5) (chapter 4) (chapter 3) (chapter 2) (chapter 1)

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: one-sided Emerald/Cinder

Characters: Cinder Fall, Salem, Tyrian Callows, Emerald Sustrai, Mercury Black

Summary: Making it out of Beacon alive turned out to be the easy part of the whole disaster.Returning home in agony and shame, learning how to take the first steps forward into living in this newly broken state...that, Cinder has decided, is definitely going to be the hard part.

Warnings for implications of abuse and graphic descriptions of injury.

~0~

“Does it get your blood boiling, does it make you see red?

Do you wanna destroy it, does it get in your head?

'Cause it gets my blood boiling and I'm coming unglued

It would hit you like poison if you knew what I knew.”

- Angry Too, Lola Blanc

~0~

After so many months, Cinder was beginning to feel a nervous shake in her stomach every time she turned the corner and saw the door to this training chamber. 

Ridiculous, really, she chided herself. It wasn’t even as if it were an intelligent human opponent she was facing, just a pack of the same Grimm she’d been exterminating ever since she was old enough to hold a blade. It didn’t matter how many there were. Power would always triumph over everything else, up to and including a beast’s instincts. 

But then again, there were far more frightening things in this world than the Grimm.

Salem had nothing to say to her as she opened the door and stepped inside. What had at the start of this new wave of training been reassuring smiles and instructions, had now faded into a cold glare. A warning to prove herself for another day. 

Her beloved bow and arrows still wouldn’t come to her, which twisted her heart every time she tried and failed to get them back. And even if she did, it would be another trial entirely to relearn how to use it sans binocular vision. A small, bitter voice at the back of her mind told her it wasn’t even worth it to try.

However, a single sword was getting easier to form with every attempt, and the one that molded itself into her hand now was like a slab of molten rock. It didn’t feel the same as Midnight, which she had been unshakably confident would never break. This one felt somehow incomplete. It was narrower than before, with far more visible imperfections and cracks running through the surface. And if one perfect sword was unachievable, then two was entirely out of the question. 

Cinder did not like to have Emerald’s voice running through her head as well as talking her intact ear off, but she could still hear her infuriatingly gentle reminder, One step at a time.

So she would make this do for now. She had no choice. 

She brandished the sword before her, and braced herself. Mere moments later, the shadows began to move. 

The clicking of claws and gnashing of teeth followed soon after. A small pack of Beowolves stalked towards her in a semicircle, surrounding her. She hadn’t had to fight down her fear of death like this since she was a child...

(“Feel nothing,” rumbling in her ears as the hilt of the knife slips around in her small, sweating hand, shaking more than ever. She tells herself it’s from exhaustion, but the eyes boring into her always know better. “Fear nothing. You’re still too weak to matter.”)

She grit her teeth, burningly aware of the scar on her face. It had taken years for her to understand. But he was wrong. She did not fear. She was not small. And she was not weak!

Heedless of danger — for nothing could be more dangerous than the eyes boring into her back — Cinder threw herself into the fray with a vicious slash of her blade. The Beowolves howled with hunger and fell upon her, all six of them. She couldn’t take her eyes off their claws, long as her arrows. A chill settled in her gut that hadn’t in years: the one that chased away all thoughts of battle and replaced them with those claws curving underneath her remaining eyeball to tear it out and blind her completely.

(“ — no point in keeping broken tools. If you’re no longer useful, you’ll be thrown away.”

“Like they threw you away?”

Her heart leaps into her throat, afraid that she’d blurted out too much. But the mouth twists further, into a sickly smile. 

“Exactly.”)

She was no longer the refuse of Mistral’s underbelly. She was more than him, more than all of them, like he’d wanted but never believed.

Just a few months ago her flames had been second nature to her. Now, to swing her arm and bring a swath of fire with it was like pulling teeth. Well...her arm worked just fine, more or less. It was this thing stuck to her that was holding her back. She swung and clawed back, as she weaved her way around the thrashing limbs and snapping jaws. Her heart pounded, to flood her veins so strongly with adrenaline that she barely felt it when they tore her dress and grazed her skin. 

She felt nothing. She feared nothing. Her determination to kill, the wrath that spurred her forward, were all that mattered. 

It was as natural to her as breathing, why were only these pathetic spurts of flame coming out now, after everything she’d done?!

Even now her attacks still hit more often than not; she wasn’t entirely broken. But still it took her what felt like an eternity to do what once took only minutes. She stood like a cornered animal at the side of the room, as the final Beowolf advanced on her, growling and slavering. It wasn’t like the Wyvern, or any other Grimm. It did not see her as a hand of its master, or as one of its own. Only as prey. A worthless little thing to be slaughtered and tossed—

(“Alone now, girl?”) 

The beast surged towards her, towering over her, gold shining from its faceless head as the giant hand reached for her — no —

Hands —

Blade —

Claws —

Her blood hasn’t spilled yet but gods, she can smell his, sour and heavy, filling her nose and polluting the fresh air, and that’s what she’ll look like, they’ll rot together, if she doesn’t do something right now!

A sharp white point starts to dig under her skin, snapping her back into the present with a gasp. Why had she been reaching for Scorching Caress when the blade was in her hand? This wasn’t — she wasn’t the one who —

Sunlight and wind were worlds away. Everything now was darkness and smoke and how long had she been frozen, her shoulder swelling and burning? She didn’t have time to consider it. Before she knew it, fire was flaring from what felt like every pore in her body, beyond any semblance of her control despite the arm she had thrown out in front of her much too late. 

The Beowolf didn’t have time to howl as it burned away, scraps of filmy black floating into the air before disintegrating. Cinder heard it anyway, in the ringing of her ears in the newly silent room. 

As she crouched there — like a cowed animal, the small rational part of her sneered — she realized several things in rapid succession. She realized that she was frozen, unable even to tremble. She realized that a thick, warm drop of blood was trickling down her good cheek, her depleted Aura delaying in patching up the claw graze beneath her eyelid. And she realized that the narrow place around her left shoulder, where flesh met Grimm, was a ring of searing pain. The only reason the arm hadn’t dropped limply to her side like the rest of her was —

Her gasp of horror came out sounding more like a cough, but it seemed to burn her throat all the same. The arm was rippling, stretching, elongating and springing off like the branches and twigs of a dead tree. Every muscle in her upper arm felt ablaze, and her mind raced trying to remember her lessons, what to do to make the Grimm inside her bend to her will instead of letting it run free and wild on its own. 

But she couldn’t, her head was too full of glittering gold and burning, burning silver to fit a single other coherent thought in. 

And then there came a different kind of burning, a cold and ice-white burn, and all of a sudden she felt as if her entire limb was shriveling, sucking itself inward. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but the pressure and the wrongness of the sensation took Cinder’s breath away and nearly doubled her over. A soft, disappointed sigh came from just above her shoulder, and without thinking about it she went utterly still.

“Cinder. Did you listen when I taught you how to control your gift?” 

Her instinct, shamefully, was to cringe. But she fought it — her master was not the sort to be sated by groveling — and turned to look her in the eyes as she nodded. 

Salem fixed her with a glare that would shrivel lesser humans like weeds in frost. “Then why do you continue to let it control you?”

Cinder did not whimper as her master’s claws retracted from her skin, their tips thinly lined with blood; after all her treatment sessions, she was used to it by now. The Grimm in her was cowed back to its proper shape and size, but she could feel its roots buried deep in her muscles and nerves. It was a part of her now, it would obey her like any other part. It should obey her...

“You already know, don’t you? You still dread it.”

She swallowed hard, uncaring of the twinge of pain it still caused her throat. Sometimes she truly hated it when her master was right.

“In the spawning pool, while it was bonding with you, it communicated with you, didn’t it?”

Cinder startled badly. It was only a vague memory now, like a childhood nightmare. But still, it had happened, and she was glad for the concrete confirmation. She nodded.

“I told you before I put you under what was in there: everything a Grimm is. Hunger, desperation, fear...the things that were buried deep inside you and that now have been brought to the surface.”

Cinder had to try very hard not to stare. So that was why...

“You must be better than that part of yourself. If you’re not, after all the time and effort that’s been put into you, then at best you’ll never unlock the Maiden’s true power again. At worst, the Grimm will realize it’s the dominant presence in your body, and consume you from the inside out.”

There was a stirring from deep in her muscles, right around her shoulder bones, that felt almost spiteful. As if it were agreeing. She remembered when just the thought of rage and vengeance would bring tongues of leaping flames to her fingertips, warm her like boiling water from the inside out, the Maiden’s power surging up at her command. Now, she could practically feel it being quenched the instant she tried to let it loose. It was the closest she had come in seven years to feeling helpless again...

Without Emerald there to translate for her, it took a painfully long few seconds to choke out, “I...will...m-ma’am.”

She could have sworn she saw a smile ghost across Salem’s face. “One more question, Cinder. Do you think you’ve earned your voice back?”

Cinder didn’t enjoy feeling as if she was now the one having a carrot dangled from a string in front of her face. And she especially disliked that she didn’t have to think about the answer: not what she thought her master wanted to hear, but simply what was. 

“...No.”

“Very well, then. You are dismissed.”

With a bow, Cinder made her exit. Now that she could walk unassisted again, she appreciated the long and thankfully lonely walks around the castle. She thought she had learned as a child never to take a single thing she had for granted, but after this, the lesson was burned into her like any one of these scars. 

Now the immediate question was: where was she going? 

Before heading to her training session, she had instructed Emerald and Mercury to go to the castle library and get some research done for her, but she was hesitant to go join them just yet. The weight room appealed: her muscles still weren’t in one hundred percent fighting form, and a few runs through the basics she’d perfected years ago, and had no chance of screwing up, might make her feel better. Exhaustion was no excuse to avoid training...but it wasn’t exhaustion that made her decide against it. It simply didn’t feel like enough.

Going back to her room to rest wasn’t an option, either. Sleep had never been much of a respite for her, but she hadn’t had such constant nightmares since...well. And this time they came twofold. Gold and silver, gold and silver...

Both her fists clenched tightly; it appeared she and the Grimm were of one mind about one thing only, and that was the thirst to kill. She envisioned sinking her claws into Ruby’s flesh, the optic nerve tearing free, soft tissue shredded with a swipe of her fingers. Like the gold before it, the silver would be drowned in blood, and the girl’s scarless body ruined until even her sister couldn’t recognize her. Justice for her own body at last; she would never trust anybody who said that justice and vengeance weren’t exactly the same thing. All that was left was how to achieve it...and for that, she could not be caught off guard again. 

Fortunately, she already had the spark of an idea. She just needed information, more relevant than what she had gathered from her spying at Beacon.

And unfortunately, there was only one person she could go to about that.

Cinder bit back a frustrated growl and made a sharp turn, towards the other side of the castle.

~0~

Tyrian didn't think he was ever going to get used to this.

It certainly wasn’t the worst part of the whole disaster, but the nagging feeling of being off-balance just wouldn't go away. Perched on a wide spike jutting out from the castle’s surface, he could feel how his whole center of gravity had shifted just from losing part of his tail. He had never used to wobble up here, never feared that he would fall. 

Now, though...

Carefully, so as not to lose his balance, he brought what remained of his tail out in front of him, grimacing at the leaking blood and venom that still stained the thick bandages on the stump. He knew that the others wouldn’t notice or care, but whenever he moved, he felt as ugly and ungainly as a one-winged bird, flying helplessly in circles. 

It hadn’t had to come to this, had it? What more could he have done, what must he remember so that he would never again fail his queen so shamefully? Would he have to change his fighting style to compensate for the loss of a stinger? What was —

All right, what the hell was that incessant thumping noise behind him?

He turned and looked below him to see Cinder standing by the large window he’d climbed out from, glaring up at him and banging impatiently on the outer wall with her gloved hand. 

Tyrian’s face broke into a grin. “Why, Cinder, how long have you been there?” he called down. “If you wanted to get my attention, you should have said something!”

He didn’t understand why the girl made such a fuss about being rendered essentially mute. As she demonstrated now, she could still perfectly communicate ‘I’ll kill you’ with only her remaining eye, and really, wasn’t that all anyone could ever need? 

Despite her clear irritation, she was now gesturing insistently for him to come down to her level. Well, considering how, whether she’d wanted to or not, she had watched as he was humiliated before their queen, Cinder was perhaps the last person he wanted to interact with at the moment. But, on the other hand, the sooner he gave her whatever she had come for, the sooner she would go away and leave him alone.

So, he stood up, darted forward, and leaped from the spike, front-flipping twice in mid-air before landing hard in front of Cinder. (He managed to land on his feet well enough, but hoped that the way his legs quivered wasn't noticeable.) Before, this would be the part where Cinder would roll her eyes and call him a show-off. Now, she just gave him an unimpressed look. 

“Well, then, what is it you want?” He glanced around the hall, and realized that the little green-haired girl was nowhere to be seen. “And where's your pet rat?”

Cinder made an indignant noise and pulled out a small notepad, with a pen stuck in the spiral binding. With some difficulty, she balanced it on her new left hand, which Tyrian couldn't see underneath that huge sleeve, but which seemed to be remaining stubbornly stiff. And with her decidedly smoother functioning right, she started to shakily write something out.

Tyrian snickered. “Look at you, you’ve managed to get some of those fingers working! What an amazing accomplishment!”

She ignored him. After a moment, she held out the notepad for him to read: Tell me about your fight with Ruby Rose. 

Any happiness Tyrian had gleaned from mocking her dissipated. “You get right to the point, don't you?” he drawled, narrowing his eyes. “Have you come all this way to gloat?”

No, for once I’m taking the high road. Cinder paused, then wrote some more. You weren't really doing it for my sake, but I appreciate your ‘eye for an eye’ offer. But you understand how I can’t exactly go out and take a tail for you. For a number of reasons.

“Yes, that is rather unfortunate. It would have been an interesting little experiment had I succeeded, though, wouldn’t it? What would happen to you, I wonder, if we stuck one of those precious silver eyes in your empty socket? I ought to bring it up to our dear doctor, don't you think?”

Cinder grumbled unintelligibly: clearly, the idea of such a replacement didn't appeal to her. She has to have changed since the fall of Beacon. Tell me what she looks like now.

“Why do you need to know that? You think she’s undergone as drastic a transformation as you have?”

It’s part of my training. I won’t hold back when I’m killing her. That should be enough for you. 

“Hmph. You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands of your superiors, you know,” Tyrian reminded her, crossing his arms and pointedly looking away. 

He didn’t know how Cinder managed to make a cough sound so annoyingly high and mighty, but she did. The trademark smirk didn’t help either, as she gestured with the notepad at his poor bandaged tail: Superior? You?

“That’s right. My failure, though tragic, has left my body largely in one piece.” His goddess’ displeasure had cut far sharper than the little rose’s scythe, but Cinder’s loyalty did not quite go that far. “And my priority above all is making up for it. Where do your priorities lie, dear sister? Do you wish to further our cause, or only yourself?”

Cinder grit her teeth. Good luck, then. But that has nothing to do with this.

“And why should I help you with anything? Consider yourself lucky that I’m taking time out of my busy day to speak with you at all.”

With a disgusted noise and a roll of her eye, Cinder wrote for a very long couple minutes, while Tyrian waited. Technically, he didn’t feel the need to tap his foot impatiently, but oh, how he did love that growl of irritation the action elicited from the back of Cinder’s throat. 

You can’t tell me you don’t want to see that girl beaten and bloody. Broken beyond repair, while we recover. Move on with our lives, while hers ends here. You know more about what that might entail than I do, don’t you? 

“Oh? Don’t tell me you intend to go against our lady’s wishes by actually killing the little flower?”

Aggressive scratching of the pen. You can end someone’s life without killing them. Trust me.

“And you’re satisfied with that.”

Being captive here would be a fate worse than death.

“You really think so?” he prodded further, fighting valiantly to repress his grin.

Whatever Salem wants her alive for—

Oh, he couldn’t help it any longer, he burst into a fit of giggles. “How did you manage to infiltrate the academies with such terrible acting, little stepsister?”

Cinder nearly cracked the pen in half. She bared her teeth, hissing through them, and took a threatening step forward. Tyrian’s eyes were drawn to her fingers and the way they twitched, straining for fire and barely achieving sparks. What a far cry it was from when she had first won the Maiden powers, raising and commanding powerful flames as if she’d been born doing it. How awfully sad. How funny. 

“I would love to help you, Cinder, you know that. But in order for me to do that, you’re going to have to be a little more honest with me. Why do you actually want my help? What’s so important about hearing this, of all things?”

Why do you care? Cinder wrote, pen tip threatening to pierce the pad. The details don’t matter so long as we get what we want.

“Oh, there’s no fooling me, dear sister. You have something in mind, and I think you ought to share it with me if you want to get anything out of this conversation. If not...” He gave her a dramatic shrug. “Well, then I suppose you’ll just have to get used to being left in the dust by the privileged few, after all.”

Before she could do anything but look outraged, he spun on his heel and started away, idly waving his tail as he went. Most people, he assumed, would have left it at that, deciding that they’d thrown enough fuel on this fire for now. Tyrian was not most people.

“My, what would your father say?”

The reaction was as immediately explosive as raw Dust. Tyrian felt the heat washing over his back even before he saw the fire. 

He whipped around to see Cinder much closer than she had been a second ago, having clearly just caught herself while lunging for his throat. Flames flared from her eye, poured from her hand, and spun in a furious wheel around her feet. He could feel the sparks flying off of it, catching him in the neck and chest, and grinned.

“Oh, what’s the matter? Daddy still a sore subject?”

Cinder glared absolute murder at him, and a series of awful hissing and rattling noises came up from her throat, like a snake about to strike. Even without speech, the message was crystal clear: Not my father. Not from you. 

Perfect.

“I have to say, it’s been a long time since you wore your heart on your sleeve like this, sister. I’d say...what, seven years?”

She ground her teeth harder, plainly regretting being fifteen and far easier to trick into letting slip her deeper vulnerabilities.

“You surprise me. If I had brought up your little family just a few months ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye. But now...what’s made you so sensitive? Something remind you of him?”

Cinder looked at him suspiciously, sensing that he already knew. Very astute of her; he would never taunt somebody with a question he was not certain of the answer to. 

“When you can, you really need to tell me exactly what it’s like down there in the depths of the spawning pool. I hear it has such sights to show you. All the things you like to think you’ve already overcome and put behind you.”

Her lips pulled into a stiff, crooked smirk as she picked the singed notepad up off the floor and scrawled, ink bleeding through the paper, I bet you’d love to relive how you got those scars on your chest, wouldn’t you?

Tyrian’s tail stump twitched, and his eyes narrowed. She clearly thought that two could play at this game. Well, she was sorely mistaken. 

“I’m not ashamed of any of my scars, Cinder. Can you say the same?”

Her smirk broadened, but she was...shaking her head? The much-abused notepad burst into a high flame in her hand, and it stayed burning that way even after the paper was ashes on her glove. 

What a confusing girl. No matter, his guesses were usually good.

“You will one day? How optimistic. Tell me, when?”

If she tapped at that glass mask just a little more aggressively, it would probably shatter. Not that it could do much more damage to that half of her face, but still. The fire in her fist burned even brighter. 

“When you get your precious revenge? How lovely. I’ll be waiting with bated breath for your next riveting performance. And I suppose I can give you the little leg up you need from me. If you fall again, it won’t be my fault, after all.”

Cinder continued to glare, and he could picture her new claws flexing hungrily inside her billowing sleeve. But that was all: with a sharp nod, she turned and started away, considering their business here finished. Tyrian wasn’t quite satisfied yet.

“Let’s just hope that when you finally face your little Huntress in battle, you’ll have more luck than Daddy did with his Huntsman.”

Cinder whirled back around blurringly fast. A truly feral growl ripped its way from her throat, and though she was visibly fighting to keep from flying at him again, her eyes burned murderously. She could only make a harsher rattling sound instead of words, but in their place, fire poured from her mouth, gleaming off her bared teeth. 

Tyrian quirked an eyebrow, still snickering. He wondered if that was the look she had worn as a child, hands about to be filthy with blood. 

This was certainly more like the Cinder he had known for so long, the one who had swapped barbs with him and shown off her new powers the same way she had the day before she left on her long mission. And yet, even with all that fuel, she still couldn’t quite bring her fire back the way she used to. It was almost a shame.

“What’s the matter, little stepsister?” He leaned forward, tail reflexively curling upward. True, it was no longer intimidating with its end blunt and bandaged, but it was just second nature. And they both knew it was far from his only strength. “Itching for a real fight? I have to say, I don’t know how well that will turn out for you. As we both have wound up with handicaps, I see no need to go easy on you.” 

Cinder kept up the growling for a few seconds more, then broke off into a frustrated huff, her shoulders sagging as the flames went out. It looked like it was physically painful for her —and, Tyrian realized, it probably was — but she surrendered the bout to him and wrenched her body around, stomping back off down the hall. Rage still radiated from every inch of her, from her frizzing hair to the downright aggressive clack of her heels.

When she was raw and irritated like this, it was so easy to poke her into an entertaining rage, and he hadn’t seen her in such a fun mood since she was a teenager. Whatever she wanted with the information he had to give, only time would tell if her plan would work. 

It was no real concern of his, anyway. Perhaps if the troublesome girl still failed to live up to Her Grace’s expectations, it would start to redeem him somewhat in her eyes. 

Giggling to himself, Tyrian spun on his heel and bounced cheerfully back out the window, swishing his tail in a far more jovial manner. It was like when Her Grace sent him out as her liaison with the sects of Grimm worshippers, scattered out there in the shadows of Remnant: conversing with the less fortunate never failed to make him feel better about himself.

Back and forth his tail swung, slower and more purposefully this time, and he made his way to the edge of the crystal spire with far better balance than before. He supposed that only time would tell whether Cinder’s stability would improve as well. 

For now, he decided, it would be home life as usual: skulking in the shadows and waiting for the next bit of fun to arrive, before he had to leave again on his endless duty.

~0~

In hindsight, Cinder thought, she should have expected to walk away from this conversation seething, no matter how calmly she had entered it. Tyrian could be perfectly tolerable when he felt like it, but in the past few months he had made himself just as unbearable as Watts. She had hoped that being beaten and mutilated just as she had would humble him somewhat, but apparently no such luck. Perhaps it was the ability to speak that made all the difference.

Well, no matter. She would get what she wanted out of him, and that was what counted, she had to remember. She could not be mired in her own self-pity any longer: she was one step closer to grabbing a rope that would pull her out of it, that she would climb back where she belonged with. Now she could, for a while, put her teammates out of her mind. 

It was a ten-minute walk from Tyrian’s chosen brooding spot to the fortress’ library. When she pushed open the heavy door, she had barely taken a step into the cavernous room before Emerald’s head popped up from behind the huge book she was perusing at a nearby table. 

“Cinder!” she said brightly, sitting bolt upright. 

She flipped over the book and left it on the table, heedless of what it might do to the spine, and darted out of her seat and over to her leader. Cinder’s leg had healed and she hadn't needed help to walk in weeks, but Emerald still felt the need to hover over her anyway, just in case of a relapse. 

(Of course Emerald would never say it out loud, but Cinder could tell: Salem’s method of healing was not one she trusted at all.) 

Cinder had been doing her best not to mind, which she had to admit had gotten much easier as she gained more and more of her autonomy back. But still, she was glad that Emerald didn't try to touch her as she walked her to the table. She didn’t think that she quite needed to have her chair pulled out for her when she got there, but she wasn’t going to complain. 

Emerald did seem to be put in better spirits by Cinder’s presence, but she still let out a huff as she sat back down in the wooden chair. 

“This whole library,” she groused, “this whole gigantic library, and only four books on sign language!”

“Well, actually...” 

The two of them looked up (and up) at the towering bookshelves next to the table. Against one of them was laid a long wheeled ladder, and twenty feet high on that ladder was Mercury, pausing from pawing through the books to smirk down at them. 

“We've only looked through half a row of these.” He waved his arm around at the dozens upon dozens of rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves, and his voice echoed in the cavernous room. “We still have the rest of this freaking place to hunt through!”

Cinder rolled her eye. Maybe the library could do with some reorganization, yes. But if a little bit of frustrated searching was the price to pay for unrestricted access to the collection her master had been patiently putting together for millennia now, then she didn't think it was anything to complain about. She caught Mercury’s eye and pointed emphatically to the chair next to Emerald.

“Fine, fine...”

Mercury gave himself a strong push on the ladder, zooming on squeaky wheels down to the end of the row and leaping off the top. Rather unnecessary, Cinder thought, giving him a supremely unimpressed look as he made his way over to them.

“So,” he said, flopping down in the chair and immediately leaning it back onto two legs, arms behind his head. “This is going to be a fun time. Does anyone remember any of the stuff Neo used to do?”

He glanced at Cinder, who shrugged. She’d reasoned back in Vale that she wouldn’t be working with Neo long enough to justify the effort of learning to understand her completely, so she hadn’t bothered to pay too much attention to the sign language that the girl had been trying to teach them. Oh, well. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see her again for any further conversation. She suspected that the Fall of Beacon had gone even worse for Roman and Neo than it had for her. 

From the blank looks Emerald and Mercury gave each other, it appeared that they hadn’t been paying enough attention either. 

“Okay. So we know nothing. Great start,” Mercury said flatly.

“That’s not true! Remember, she did that spelling thing with her fingers? We can start with that, can’t we?”

Cinder tried to answer properly anyway, lifting her hand and twisting her fingers into what she recalled of the fingerspelling alphabet. It was about the only part of the language she did remember, and only because an increasingly exasperated Neo had resorted to spelling things out when her temporary teammates couldn’t understand her words. Closed fist with the thumb outside, A. Flat hand, thumb inside, B. Curved hand, C. D...

She narrowed her eyes at her hand, as if it were to blame for her lapse in memory and would reveal its secrets if she just glared it down. 

“The D, it’s like this, right?” Mercury put his pointer finger and thumb together, holding it out to her sideways. 

“No, no, like this,” Emerald said, putting her middle finger and thumb together with the pointer sticking out. “That’s D.”

“What? No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

One hiss from Cinder nipped their argument in the bud. With her good hand — it was still hard to think of it as her human hand — she flipped back several pages in Emerald’s textbook and pointed. 

“Oh.” Mercury blinked. “Point for Emerald, then. It’s kind of cheating to look at the answers, though.”

“It’s not a test. We are all just learning this language together. Wasn’t it you who said learning was fun?”

“When do we learn the swears? Neo taught me the swears but I forgot.”

“That’s not in the book, Merc!”

Cinder tapped the thick pages with her knuckles, pointedly glaring and making the next letter sign with perhaps more aggression than was called for.

“Okay, finish the rest, we got it...” 

The rest of the section went by with few hitches. Cinder found it much more palatable to remember that it was just learning a new language, instead of relearning how to talk, of all damned things. It was...surprisingly calming, as well as interesting. This, however, only lasted until they moved on to the Basic Words and Phrases section.

Mercury thumped his chest with a flat palm and tapped both his middle and pointer fingers together — My name is... — and then looked over to Cinder and tilted his head in concern. “Uh...you think you’re gonna be able to do the rest of this okay with, um, your little buddy there?”

Both of them went tense in their chairs, as if trying not to flinch away, when Cinder shrugged her sleeve back and lifted the Grimm arm. She experimentally flexed the long-clawed fingers. They were stiffer than she would like, and still felt like whatever was inside the limb was actively fighting her when she tried to move it. It would be difficult to bend them to her will...but not impossible, she decided. Fine motor control practice, and all that. 

It took her several moments longer to do it than it did Emerald or Mercury, but she managed to perform the signs properly with both hands: My name is Cinder. She peered over at the book —Emerald helpfully turned it around so she could see more clearly — and added a slower, careful I learn MSL with both her arms. 

Emerald watched, copied her movements. “It took some digging, but we found an Upper Mistrali dialect book and a Lower Mistrali one, a Valerian one, and one with lots of dialects from all over. I wanted to focus on Mistral, but maybe the variety will help?”

Cinder nodded. Even after getting her voice back, it could come in handy to be able to communicate nonverbally when necessary...when they were back out in the field together.

Emerald and Mercury weren’t specifically trained for stealth missions like she was, but they could learn. Though the element of surprise regarding their Semblance and prosthetic weapons, respectively, had been spent, they could still be plenty useful. She could keep them by her side until the day they eventually exhausted their usefulness, however far in the future that ended up happening. 

It might even never happen at all, it occurred to her, and the thought brought a small smile to her face. Perhaps they would stay following at her heels for the rest of their natural lives, existing only for her use.

Emerald blinked, hands pausing mid-sign. “Cinder? What is it?”

Cinder glanced at the book once more — yes, she was reading it right — and her smile broadened. She rested her head in the Grimm hand, and she pressed the fingers of her human hand to her lips and then extended them towards Emerald, locking eyes with the girl as she did. 

As expected, Emerald startled and went wide-eyed, and Cinder could almost imagine a blush on her cheeks. “Uh...”

Mercury looked puzzled for a moment, then squinted at the book and sighed. “She’s not blowing you a kiss, Emmy. She’s saying ‘thank you.’”

“Oh! Thanks for...helping you? With this?” Cinder tapped the book and nodded, and wanted so very badly to laugh at the way Emerald’s face lit up. “Don’t worry about that, I’m happy that I can do this for you!”

Emerald subtly bit her lip to keep herself from rambling on further, as she used to do very early on, but Cinder still knew her well enough to hear the unspoken I would do anything for you. Now that she had her attention, Cinder checked the book again, looking to see how to construct the sentence she wanted.

Before she found her answer, her eye landed on another diagram, and stuck there for a moment. Without thinking about it, her hand rose to copy it...but stopped as her fingers brushed up against her throat, before it could say father. 

They faltered there for just a second, and she swallowed against them, remembering another pair of hands around her neck: warm and rough, fingers interlocking, so much stronger than her...

No. This was her hand, his no longer mattered. She gave herself an imperceptible shake, and focused her attention back where it needed to be. The first word, naturally, was easy enough.

I... 

Cinder pointed to herself with the Grimm hand while rifling through for the rest with her human one, so as not to shred the pages in her claws. This chapter didn’t seem to tell her any way to say she had something, so she ground her teeth in annoyance and went ahead even faster to the nouns section. And...there, that would work. She laid a flat palm on her chest, then pressed the tip of her pinkie finger to her forehead and pulled it back out into the air again.

My idea.

“Your...I know it was your idea, but —”

Ugh. Cinder cut her off with a frustrated shake of the head. “N...n-new.”

“Hey, I thought this was a no-talking game,” Mercury said with a smirk. Cinder didn’t think that hissing and slashing a clawed finger across her throat was an official MSL gesture, but it got the message across perfectly clearly anyway.

“You have...another idea?” Emerald guessed. “Do you want us to put the books away, then?” 

Cinder groaned again. This was going much less smoothly in real life than it had in her head. She searched through the book again: this was going to take so many words to explain...