#unlike how she cared more about disappointing her parents instead of staying close to him

[sevikagf]

neri finding rolan at last light and all he’s doing is getting mad at her so when she finds his siblings and brings them back, he comes to find her alone and they have a cute moment where he apologizes and she just smiles and maybe theres some like soft face touching and she tells him that he’s brave to have gone to look for his siblings. this might be where he really falls for her- he always thought she was beautiful and strong but this was a whole new side to her…

[chaztalk]

Yes, yes I know this is hella long, so just scroll to the bottom if necessary

TLDR: I’m a Romione shipper and here’s why I don’t like Hermione

I can understand the criticisms of Hermione’s character, but this is more like “I don’t like what the particular things Hermione did” rather than actually analyzing her character. Also that last sentence in the first paragraph, you could really say about any of the Golden Trio, receiving very few consequences and actually learning from them.

Cuz the actual truth behind JKR’s writing of Hermione is a product of being JKR’s self-insert and even though, she is a main character in the series, the author doesn’t necessarily care about her because we know next to nothing about her life as a muggle, her parents, and her personality outside of magic.

And OP stated that Hermione doesn’t face consequences in the series, but that, however, is not entirely true. She turned into a half-cat after not being cautious enough/making sure that she used a human hair instead of a cat hair. She was given the silent treatment until she apologized about her cat. In OOTP, at the DoM, she was hit by a dangerous curse because she was distracted by doing a celebration mid-battle. And in HBP, she was allegedly sexually assaulted if she didn’t run away from him.

So now let’s break this analysis down:

PS- they name none of her strengths, only her “flaws”. I don’t understand how being a rule follower is really a flaw. And her. Close-mindedness comes actually later in the series (opinions about centaurs and Divination). She froze under pressure once. Being socially awkward for 11/12 year old isn’t really out of the ordinary and doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a sign of a complex character.

CoS- Hermione’s 12-13 years old. It’s normal to develop a crush on someone, regardless on who the actually person they have a crush on are.

The one positive most people give Hermione is that she’s book smart. So I don’t understand how it’s hard to believe Hermione was able to brew polyjuice potion when you just have to read the steps to make it.

And even though, she figured out the mystery, she didn’t win a thing unlike Harry and Ron.

“Ron’s influence is working”. What? How come they never elaborate on things like this?

PoA- I also don’t understand the claim that most people would side with Hermione in the Crookshanks/Scabbers fiasco. Harmione shippers and Hermione stans are in the minority here.

GoF- Now this is just someone pissed off that someone else was interested in Hermione and Hermione decided to go with him instead of Ron

A character flaw in Krum? He can’t hold a conversation with a girl.

OOTP- Hermione’s “snipy” towards Ron because he’s a terrible prefect that gets easily walked all over by his twin brothers who are the biggest rule breakers (and possibly because she wanted Harry to be prefects with her instead of Ron 😃)

HBP- or how about feeling empathy for both instead of one over the other. Like this: “I understand why Hermione attacked Ron because it was one of the times her emotions controlled her. But that’s no excuse for the attack when Ron is kissing another girl when they aren’t together”. Not hard. And it’s why Ron and Hermione are incompatible imo.

DH- she does 90% of the preparations for the hunt because Mrs Weasley made it hard for the Trio to work together. And Hermione is no doubt the brains of the group.

“She rescues them from the ministry”. And Splinched Ron in the process, no? So, wouldn’t really say she’s perfect under pressure.

The most crucial one is Hermione staying with Harry and Ron leaving. What do you want her to do? Also leave? She’s a muggleborn, and muggles are being murdered left and right by DEs.

In conclusion, Hermione doesn’t have an arc. An arc to me is an obstacle a character has that builds character development in them. No Harry Potter character has that kind of arc.

I’ll be waiting for the “Ron’s a disappointing character” analysis post, with it just being complaints about how the “narrative” hates Ron lol

[lightvsdark18]

Born As The Other in Twisted Wonderland

If Night Raven College was an all-girl school and Alice was Andrew. (I see a lot of the names as unisex, so that's not changing.)

Andrew is a quiet and chill young man, less of a jokester and energetic than Alice. He kept his distance from all of the students since he's an adult man in an all-girl school, so talking and befriending the students was a slow process for him. The trust from the professors and headmage also took time, seeing him responsible and dependable to keep the students (the brain cell trio) out of trouble.

Grim: The relationship started as two people being forced to live under the roof and annoy each other slightly. However, slowly over time and spending their time together, Grim began to see him as a big brother and him seeing her as a little sister.

Riddle: She grew to look up to him from his gentle and caring personality, seeing him as a positive male figure. The two act like siblings and enjoy drinking tea together.

Trey: The two don't really talk to one another and see each other as acquaintances, but both agree they act like the parents to their friend group from being the calm and responsible ones.

Deuce: They seemed to get along and understand each other instantly. They often support and hype each other up when the other is nervous or anxious about something.

Cater: He's the person she goes to for help with her Magicam photos and to eat the cafe sweets she ordered. She also takes a lot of pictures of him make her feed blow-up because "look at this pretty boy I befriended!"

Ace: They annoy each other playfully and act like siblings from how much they tease and joke around with one another. She acts hates it when he praises her.

Leona: She didn't care for the young man, slightly annoyed by his blank and disinterest expression, but at seeing his personality and how charming he can be, she got intrigued. She's straightforward and blunt about her desires than her male counterpart, being more flirtatious. However, something she shares with her counterpart is not liking getting the taste of her own medicine.

Ruggie: The two were on mutual grounds with each other, sometimes talking and running errands together, but didn't really hangout or grow close. However, she grew to appreciate and cling onto him when he started inviting her to have dinner with him and Grim.

Jack: The two started to really talk when she was dragged into the friend group by the other three. The two are chill and she often drags him into working out with her.

Azul: Picks her up and place her down in front of her room as his passion aggressive way of telling her to stop working and sleep. She was curious about the man after what happened with the golden scrolls and how to use his weaknesses against him, but accidentally gained a big brother.

Jade: Intrigued by the man by his blank glances and wishes to understand him better, maybe find out some weaknesses, just to get a mushroom coin purse and a headpat. Joined in on bothering him with Floyd and dragging him along the hiking paths in the mountains.

Floyd: She likes being carried by him. She's always bothering him to get a rise out of him since he's always staring blankly into the void. But he just tiredly signs instead of giving her an reaction. Also likes headpats.

Kalim: She likes hugging him, especially giving him surprise hugs. He became a big broher to her and taught her how to take care of herself after what happened with Jamil. She often asked questions and listened to whatever knowledge he wished to share.

Jamil: She didn't trust him and just stayed away. Andrew didn't have a problem with the judging glares and just attended the party he was invited to. Jamil only grew comfortable around him when he showed at Land of Grief to save her and the others.

Vil: Just like their counterparts, they started off not liking one another. Andrew often just stared with disappointment and annoyance towards Vil unlike Alice who annoyed Vil by her actions. Eventually, they moved pass their pettiness and slowly got to know the other.

Rook: Like her male counterpart, praising and commenting his impressive features and how the sun makes his skin shine like the stars. He's cautious around her from her hunter's comments and unease vibe she radiates.

Epel: He made her feel validated when she said she wanted to be stronger than those who saw her as weak and fragile. He encouraged her to work hard but to not hurt herself by going overboard. Drags him to workout together.

Idia: She felt intimidated by his beauty and often hid away from him because why would he want to genuinely hangout with her? He was patient with her and waited for her to grow comfortable around him.

Ortho: Big brother! Ortho approached him out of curiosity because he was a different world and wished to learn different aspects of his world. He talked to her often before Book 6 happened.

Malleus: Their relationship started as a slow burn from being strangers getting to know each other to close friends. Andrew has the same open-minded values as Alice, making the same meaningful validation Alice did with the prince. The gothic princess grew charmed by the young man.

Lilia: She likes teasing him and commenting on how cute he is, and also randomly cling onto his back to which he just shrugs it off and continues walking. She gives him advice and encouragement when she can tell he's not feeling the greatest. (Adopted him somewhat)

Silver: The two didn't talk much, but when they do they retell stories they heard. Sometimes, they just enjoy the sounds of nature together and share their monotone stares. (Andrew finds it funny them scare people.)

Sebek: He didn't like her from her yelling and insulting, so he stayed away from her at any chance he got. However, she started to depend on him for guide on making friends and being okay with her human side.

(Their relationship was literally whatever popped into my head. I tried.)

[justforficsjules]

Starry Day

Crepusculum flew up to the very peak of the mountain and let her powers shine through just after she landed. The sky lightened, becoming twilight.

It was a cold splash on a warm day, a tingling sensation in her veins. Her time was short, but she made every second last. Every detail was perfect in the sky. The same color as it was a thousand years ago. Closing her eyes, Crepusculum tried to take it all in. Every inch of that feeling of power.

“Careful to not fall off,” her brother said. She opened her eyes to look at him.

Avgí was smiling at her kindly. They were the same words he had said her for the past couple centuries. It had become boring after just a month.

“I won’t and you need to change up your introductions,” Crepusculum responded.

In fact, he was the one awfully close to the edge. It took quite a bit in her to not tear him from it. Gods can’t die, but they most definitely can feel pain.

Taming her older sibling nature, she stayed still and looked back to the sky. Her magic was fading as the sun peeked over the horizon. Dawn was here.

She patted her brother on the back, his face now a bit more concentrated. He gave her one last smile and a nod before she took to the skies and only landed when she reached a cave by the shore.

Tiptoeing her way in, Crepusculum glanced around, searching for somebody. She kept walking silently until said cave opened up into a ballroom size, not some pitiful space. And in it, was somebody she was quite happy to see.

“Mama!” Crepusculum exclaimed running forward to see her. She lover her other mom, Iméra, she really did. But it was always nice to see Nÿchta after a long night. Same was true the opposite way. Still, there was joy in her heart as her mama wrapped her arms around her shoulders and gave her hug.

“My sweet girl, how are you?” Nÿchta asked. Squeezing her tight one last time she let go, placing her hands on Crepusculum’s arms instead. She looked at her sincerely, as she always did.

Her mama had a big thing honestly and truthful words. Always spotting a lie in its tracks, Nÿchta never let her get away with anything. But if she was anything, it was a great mother (and a great warrior, though her kids always came first).

“I’m doing good,” she said with a smile. Her only response was some eyebrows rising in suspicion.

She could never get away with anything.

“I have to stay with mom for the day. There was some soldiers discussing invading the forest and the mountain. She doesn’t quite yet know what to do, and quite frankly neither do I. She wants to talk about with me, since I was there.”

Nÿchta’s eyebrows pinched together. “Yes, I do believe I heard some drunks saying that yesterday, but I had thought they were intoxicated enough that they had gone slightly crazy. It appears only the king has gone crazy,” she said with the shake of her head and a sigh. Seeing all, Crepusculum’s mama was often disappointed with humanity. About as a much as she felt joy for them.

The day was for everybody, each person who would wake up in the morning. Mostly good came from it and the sun rising above. Everybody was often transparent, carrying throughout their day without a blemish. It was so unlike night, where people did something the they would take to the grave. Secrets began to whisper between the leaves as the moon rose. This difference is exactly what separated her parents. Her mom was the embodiment of night, often secretive and sly. This would have been alright, since they were mostly just fun pranks and things that cause quiet giggles, if Nÿchta wasn’t the embodiment of day, through and through. But she was.

Crepusculum had seen many different people but none had skin as dark as her mama, something that protected her from the power of the sun well. Her figure was wonderfully chubby, crops always growing during the day because of the sun. Scars from yesterday and centuries stuck to her skin, from all the fighting in the kingdom. It was a large difference from Iméra, who was a pale as ghost (in all honesty, Crepusculum thought that if her skin would ever see the sun, it would quite literally crumble into ashes) and was exceptionally scrawny, which often worked to her mom’s advantage. People almost always trusted the small, young woman thinking she could do no harm. And that was the horrifying difference. Nÿchta needed honesty and Iméra needed her secrets, something their pride was to fond of to let go. But they both had scars. Both had felt the pain of the people. That and their children is what truly connected them.

“Yes, and we have to stop him before he causes more damage,” Crepusculum said. With teetering caution, she began to say, “I’m sure if you and mom worked together it would be easy to stop him. You would just have t-“

“No, I’m sorry,” Nÿchta interrupted. “I can’t do that. I have my followers, but there is a particular favorite. She will be sent on a quest.”

Crepusculum nodded understanding there was no way to convince her otherwise. Night and Day never touched and there was reason for it.

“Alright mama, I have to go. Are you okay?” Crepusculum tentatively asked.

“Of course. Soúroupo will stay with me then. I love you, see you soon,” Nÿchta answered.

“I love you, see you later,” Crepusculum called back, having already started walking out. There was a lot to worry about, with the king and his men but this seemed wrong. Her instinct was telling her that this time, the king would be foolish in a way that there was a large cost. She hurried out because she had to know just what he was doing and if they could even stop him.

[astromaki]

part 4 of second choice — ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1170 words)

part 1. part 2. part 3. (previous)

tw ; minors dni angst, toxic family, low self-esteem, mention of divorce, mention of alcohol

extra info; all the characters are aged up (they are 30)

10 minutes after the confrontation. your mother called you that night, a few minutes after you left your home.

it was exactly what you didn't need at the time. that endless lecture, one of the thousands she had been giving you since you were little. those words full of venom had lost their importance to you over the years.

all the time the same slanders, the same insults, the same belittling. but it was all your fault, right ?

you were disappointing your family to get your way. how selfish were you?

thanks to your rich parents, you had married a wealthy and influential man in this society. just go to the gala with him, smile at the reporters. be presentable.

and yet that's what you tried to do. for months, for years. you wanted to be perfect for him, for this man. but did he even acknowledge the fact that you were living in the same fucking house ? of course no. so, divorce you from shoto todoroki ? do it, do it and you will be disinherited.

is that what you really want ? to please your family, stay unhappy with this todoroki.

it's the least you can do. you were a spoiled brat, no better than your father said you mother. why didn't you take a cue from your older sister and brother ? they seemed to have made it in life, unlike you.

so don't complain, you had only one purpose in life. just one, it's not too much to ask. to marry a rich young man from high society to raise his children and continue the y/l/n dynasty.

instead you went to law school, studied instead of slutting around with the bourgeois sons of your family friends.

you succeeded, you created your own name, not the name of your maiden or your future husband. you created this image of an influential person. confident, arrogant, the men were at your feet. but then shoto came.

you knew him from afar, a friend of a friend of your father's apparently. the young man was polite at every event, gala. well-bred, intelligent, charismatic, eloquent.

how could you not fall in love with him ?

then you were married to him. and he only needed that haughty look to destroy all those years of work.

he made you feel like a kid by his side, a spoiled, naive and reckless child. that ridicule and shame he made you feel when you had done something you were proud of.

this feeling of inferiority that you had managed to escape from your family, you had found it again with this frightening man. you had become the clown in your own house, the servants must have laughed at your domestic scenes.

he had succeeded in making you forget your wedding anniversary, savoring the pleasures that a man can give you with a simple compliment, or even a small sign of affection. the todoroki had always been a respected, even feared name. because of the father, now because of the son.

so, you were a fool to develop ever stronger feelings for him. ever bigger.

but it wasn't your fault, your parents didn't show you any love, any gesture of affection, you didn't talk that much except for business and inheritance.

their love was cold. reserved, distant. you knew they loved you, and that was enough for you.

you were used to that kind of affection, that was your definition of love.

that's why you were so easily attracted to those who didn't deserve you. those who so easily played on your true love. so easily in love with shoto todoroki and his cold love. that's what you knew well. you felt protected with that, and in danger when they gave you too much. too bad it wasn't reciprocated.

too bad you couldn't see that green jealousy tinting katsuki's cheeks. oh let's talk about katsuki.

that poor idiot who had made this rivalry in his head between him and shoto. he hated him for treating you so badly, neglecting such an extraordinary person as you. what did he see in momo that he didn't see in you ?

this asshole must have had very few neurons to miss the treasure that you were.

but he hated you too. how could you fall in love with him ? when katsuki was standing right in front of you ?

bakugou started from nothing, created this company, built a flourishing empire. and now he's playing with billions of dollars so he can approach you and your family with dignity at the most coveted galas of the moment in all of east asia. fuck, for you, y/n, he even became the enemy of shoto todoroki !

and all you did was complain that shoto didn't compliment your outfit or your new hairstyle. you were brainwashed. he knew that you would always return to shoto like a dog to his master. that all shoto had to do was whistle for you to come back and beg him to let you love him, again and again.

he love you sincerely, it's so pure, so loyal. and itd be the most genuine passion you would ever meet again. but his desire to destroy the todoroki son far exceeded his love for you, y/n.

what a pathetic fate. even in the eyes of your soulmate, between you and revenge, you would be the second choice.

todoroki was standing outside his window with a glass of scotch in his hand. he saw you leaving in the arms of your charming knight, now fleeing him like the plague.

katsuki was waiting for you in his luxury car, ready to take you to your so-called business meeting. seeing you walk away from him, from your home, to throw yourself into the lion's den.

he wasn't jealous, he wasn't happy either. he did not feel lighter or heavier. it's strange, it can't be explained. shoto finally got what he wanted for years. to see you go. and yet.

he turned his head slowly as he saw the car leave the property. his gaze fell on the bed, he foolishly expected to see you in your nightie on the bed, asleep on the edge of the bed. a tired sigh escaped from his lips. the same sentence ran round and round in his head.

you hadn't learned anything from your mistakes. you were always running to rich men who didn't care about you. like him, like bakugou katsuki.

he was almost tempted to look back you. it's true, even though, you had always been a pain in the ass for him.

what did he owe you now ?

"a couple of jerks, what a great pair. tell me you're going to win all her money in the divorce." sighs momo at his side.

shoto had his back to her, now following with his eyes the tiny point of light that was bakugou's car.

"i don't know. but at least we're free of that pain in the ass. she's gone." he says, almost whispering.

the young man put the pen on the desk, close to the sheet of paper that now contained your two signatures.

go check 5000$ if you want more toxic shoto <3

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[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Hello!! May I please have a Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader where they are making out and get caught by her overprotective older brother? And so they try to explain themselves and stuff bit her brother ends up taking the reader with him and just her brother being worried about her absanana

Found out

A/n: Of course !! I adore getting these requests. I chose the reader to be the sister of Cedric, just because the prompt sounded a lot like how I imagine him but feel free to request another character. This is set during 4th year and is an AU where Cedric doesn't die. Also slightly sexual towards the end

Being Cedric Diggory's younger sister was difficult, the popular Hufflepuff always had a crowd hanging around him but he and Y/n weren't completely alike.

When the Triwizard tournament was announced Y/n had begged him not to put himself in danger. But Cedric wanted to win that cup, and he was stubborn. Of course, she was beyond proud of him when his name flew out of the cup but she couldn't stop the bad feeling in her stomach.

"Cedric, you know you don't have to do this," Y/n begged him once she'd pulled him out of dinner one night. The sibling pair didn't talk to each other much during the school day, due to their differing social circles, but they were close.

She stood next to him in an alcove near to the big doors where the rest of the school was sitting.

"Y/n, if I win this mum and dad are going to be so pleased." He had the proudest look she had ever seen him with. Such a wide smile.

Growing up he was always the more carefree one, willing to get on a broom before their parents allowed them, climbing any tree around their house and getting into any number of bad situations for his friends. He was a risk-taker, Y/n knew that. But he was the most honest person she knew and if he said he would be okay, then it would be okay.

"Just be safe, okay? I'll see you out there tomorrow." She made him promise as she gave him a hug.

Cedric nodded and pulled away. "I promise, don't worry about me. Get some sleep." He told her, still fulfilling his protective older brother duties.

Y/n didn't notice Cho Chang until she stood next to Cedric, threading her fingers in his in a way Y/n hadn't seen before. She had heard the rumours that her brother was going out with Cho but wanted to wait until he confessed.

"Sorry to interrupt." Cho started, smiling awkwardly at Y/n who quickly cut in.

"No, don't worry. You can take him." Y/n told her with her own soft smile to let Cho know she didn't mind.

She looked relieved at that, clearly not wanting to piss off her apparent boyfriend's sister this close into their relationship. "It's nice to officially meet you, Ced talks about you a lot," Cho replied as she held out her hand for Y/n to shake.

Y/n had only ever heard their mother call Cedric 'Ced' and that was when they were really young and he was feeling sick but she thought the nickname proved their relationship was close.

"Yeah, you too." They did know each other, only by mutual classmates and Y/n found it mature she introduced herself.

"Okay, we should go, I'll talk to you later, Y/n," Cedric said, breaking the slight awkward tension he had created and turning the girls' attention back to him. When Y/n looked at him he looked awkward as he bit his lip and shifted his weight around.

Y/n raised her eyebrows at him and made it obvious she was looking at the couples joint hands. "Yeah, we will talk later." Her sarcastic tone made him gulp but made Cho laugh.

They walked off together, joining some of their other mutual friends and leaving Y/n there.

Instead of walking to her own dorm room, she waited until the hallway was quiet from students leaving the hall and snuck into the dorm room of her favourite Slytherin.

Draco was waiting for her, as he had done for the past 2 months since they started dating. Unlike Cedric, she could keep a relationship secret.

"How did it go?" He asked her cautiously, pulling her into a hug in the doorway.

Y/n was surprised by his embrace but welcomed it as she finally let herself, for the first time since Dumbledore readout Cedric's name, relax in his arms. "Badly." She replied, finally pulling away from his warm body.

Draco pulled her over to his bed, sitting on it and patting the spot next to him for her to sit. "Tell me about it, love." He insisted.

She sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't want him to get hurt, he's always been so protective of me and now I feel like I need to be because he's doing something stupid that could get him killed." Draco was the one person she could really speak honestly to which surprised her when they first got close.

"I know you think that but a lot of people volunteered to compete, they wouldn't have if it wasn't safe. Even stupid Potter got accepted despite being too young." He tried to reassure her, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter. "They wouldn't even have the tournament if it wasn't safe."

Y/n let out a huffing sound, knowing Draco was completely correct. "Thank you. I just need him to be okay."

"I know, he will be. And you never have to thank me for being here." There was that sweet smile that she adored. It wasn't something a lot of people got to see and that made her more grateful.

The couple sat together for a minute, the fall and rise of Draco's chest syncing with hers.

Then she spoke. "Can I stay here?"

"Yeah, of course." He agreed, smiling down at her again. And maybe it was the widest grin she had seen on his face.

It wasn't how either of them pictured their first night together like, but as Y/n drifted off to sleep in his arms she was infinitely more relaxed. And Draco didn't want her to get up and leave as she did every night.

~

"What colour is your dress?" Draco asked Y/n, one particular evening they spent up at the astronomy tower. Keeping their relationship secret was difficult but they both knew hiding places and the astronomy tower was one of their favourites.

It was quiet at night, a nice peaceful quiet. As the weather got colder naturally the nights were too and being up there meant they were bundled up in coats and blankets to not catch a cold.

Y/n looked over at him, focusing on his dark features instead of the bright stars. "I'm not letting you see it before the big night." She grinned at him.

"No, I want to match my tie." There was a shy smile on his face, something she didn't see much. "So tell me."

She rolled her eyes, still smiling at him. "Silver." She had picked the dress out the day the Yule ball was announced. At first, she thought of going for his favourite, green, but she knew he would love the dress.

He nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard. Will you at least dance with me?"

There was a desperate, insecure look in his eyes. "Yeah, we'll sneak out." Thankfully, he didn't look disappointed.

~

Tonight was the big night. Y/n found it hard to recognise her classmates dressed in their best clothes. The whole castle was decorated beautifully.

She has been waiting for Draco on the top of the staircase but when he didn't turn up she made the walk down the stairs herself, being careful not to trip with her heels.

That was when she saw him, at the bottom of that stairs. He was dressed in a white and black suit with a shiny silver bowtie and his hair was done slicked back, just how you liked it.

"Merry Christmas, you look beautiful," Draco told her as she met him at the bottom of the stairs, trying to look as inconspicuous to their peers as possible.

She has already received her Christmas gift from Draco, a stunning pear-shaped emerald necklace set in expensive gold. On the back of the gold setting was his initials 'D.L.M'

"Thank you for my gift, it's gorgeous," Y/n said, toying with the pendant in her fingers.

"You're gorgeous." He returned the comment. He was trying and failing, not to make it look like he was staring at her.

"You can get your gift tonight." She smiled, thinking about the gold watch she had waiting in her dorm for him. It was more than ironic they brought each other such similar jewellery, they were soulmates. "And also, you look amazing." Gently she let herself touch the bowtie, straightening it.

Draco grinned down at her, consumed by the smell of her perfume when she was so close to him. He had to fight every urge not to kiss her. "Ready to go in?" He gestured to the ballroom door.

She nodded, grabbing his pinky finger discreetly so she could touch him without anyone else seeing them.

They stood close to each other in the crowd of other students while the competitors walked through with their dates. Cedric briefly locked eyes with his sister, not noticing whose hand she was holding as he paraded his own date through the entrance.

Y/n grinned at both him and Cho, impressed by her dress. Then they split to dance with their own friends, trying to ignore the urges they were both fighting to kiss each other.

"Follow me," Y/n whispered into his ear once the ball had died down. Most of the students were leaving off beds they didn't belong in.

Draco's heart started to race as he watched the silver figure walk out of the room. He waited just long enough to see her disappear before racing out himself, hoping but not really caring if anyone noticed.

Once he reached the corridor he seemed to have lost her, a few other students were mingling around but his face dropped at the thought of her leaving him hanging.

He took a left, walking through the corridor before he found a wooden door he wasn't sure he'd seen before. Twisting the doorknob open he revealed Y/n who was standing in a small room he hadn't seen before.

"Missed you tonight." She grinned, pulling him over to her. They could still hear the slow songs playing from the ballroom and with her hands wrapped around his neck and his around her waist they began to sway.

"Missed you too." He whispered in her ear, as they danced. It was peaceful and far more quiet than the ballroom was.

When she finally looked up at him, he was staring right back down at her. His pupils were enlarged, and not just from the dark. She knew he needed something.

They were so close she could taste the punch on his breath and a hint of the cologne he put on at the start of the night. She lent up an inch and he met her lips. Unlike their usual soft kisses, this one was filled with more need.

He didn't let up either, gently slipping his tongue into her mouth. She moved her hands through his hair, tugging slightly at the blonde ends and making him groan with an open mouth. He moved his hands up from her waist, gently tracing up and down the sides of her boobs.

"Can see right down your dress, making me crazy," Draco mumbled once he pulled away to breathe, leaving both their lips wet. He slurred his words whenever he was feeling needy for her.

She grinned at him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him back in. He groaned again and pulled her body closer to him. They were so close as their lips and tounges continued to intertwine that she could feel his body pressed up against hers, pinning her to the wall.

Suddenly through closed eyes, they could feel the room getting lighter. Draco pulled away from her quickly, spinning around to the door.

There stood Cedric. With a frown on his face.

"Y/n Diggory, what is going on?" Cedric asked sternly. She had seen her brother made over Quidich games, or when their parents told him off but he was fuming. His eyes were angry as he glared between the pair.

She didn't want to talk to him. She just wanted to be with her secret boyfriend that nobody knew about until now. "Nothing." She mumbled her faced flushing red due to her annoyance with her brother disciplining her.

When she met Cedric's eyes he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Draco. "We're together. We have been for a while." He quickly answered. Y/n wasn't expecting that, now looking at her brother he almost looked as shocked as angry.

"No, no way," Cedric said strictly. "There is no way this is happening." He put his hands over his eyes like it would stop the recurring image of his younger sister making out with her boyfriend.

"Stop being so dramatic." Y/n shot back at him, finally feeling less embarrassed and angrier herself. "You have no say over what I do."

"Can we go somewhere else and talk about this?" Cedric asked more calmly, refusing to look at Draco anymore.

"Why?!" Y/n spat back at him. Although they were both quick to tempers they didn't often fight. This was an anomaly for their relationship but due to their joint stubborn tempers, neither of them could stop it now.

He glared at Draco and then back at Y/n. "Because I need to talk to you!" He told her, grabbing her arm so he could pull her away from Draco.

Draco let her go, still in shock himself and Y/n let Cedric pull her away. "I'll be back." She told her boyfriend.

Cedric pulled Y/n back into the corridor, taking her to a secluded alcove. "What is wrong with you?" She quickly argued with him.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?!" He mocked her, still fuming.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Right, I'm going back to my boyfriend." She said, tugging her arm out of his grasp.

"No, wait." His tone turned desperate as he pleaded. "Y/n, come on." There was a softness in his voice she hadn't heard today. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm just shocked." His face was softer now as well now.

"I just hate it when you talk to me like I'm a child." Clearly one of the siblings was more stubborn.

"I know." He was being much more reasonable. "You're really with Draco Malfoy or was that a lie?"He finally found the courage to ask.

Y/n looked at him with disgust. "What? He wouldn't like someone like me?" She defended quickly.

"No, I'm not saying that. There's a lot of things that people say about him." That made her even madder.

"Draco is not what people say he is." She quickly defended, it was true. There were a lot of lies people said about him.

Now it was Cedric's turn to huff. "Really? Have you not heard stories about him hooking up with girls? All the girls he danced with tonight?"

"Shut up." Y/n pushed his chest. "He's not like that. We've been dating for 3 months." Cedric didn't say anything else, he just stood there like he was judging her. "And also I treated Cho very nicely so I would appreciate it if you did that same thing to my boyfriend." She finished not wanting to listen to him anymore. She stomped off back to Draco who now stood with his hands in his pockets near the Diggory siblings but far enough he couldn't hear.

Once she reached him she felt calm as her features relaxed. "Hi, sorry." She smiled, reaching out to hold his hands.

With their hands together at the bottom of the staircase, she leant in and kissed him on the lips, not worried about who was seeing. "Getting bold, Diggory." Draco smiled at her once she pulled away.

"If my possessive, seriously annoying older brother can't do anything about it, why not flaunt it, Malfoy?" Y/n questioned with a wide grin on her face.

She noticed his eyes shift off her and to someone standing behind her. He took his hands off her and stuck one out. "It's nice to officially meet you." Y/n then noticed her older brother standing next to her.

"You too," Cedric replied, shaking his hand. Y/n could tell he wasn't completely genuine but let Draco assume he was.

Maybe, it would be alright.

[mrwinterr]

So Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: After a night with your favorite artist, you’re left wondering where you both really stand. 

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual, but unprotected sex, oral [male & female receiving], vaginal penetration and fingering, size kink and dirty talk). Language. Light mentions of substance abuse. Lying asses. Internet toxicity (I hate it here sometimes). Angst, I guess...TIME SKIP...and absolute horrendous fluff (that’s not my brand, alright).

Disclaimer: You can read part 1 here! It would make some sense. 

A/N: This follow-up is still based on some true events. Can’t hate the players, hate the game. For the most part it’s made up because some of us deserve the ending we think we deserve. I’m dedicating this to @shawnie--jo​ for all the love, enthusiasm and the patience because this took me a while. It’s a doozy! & with that note, enjoy!

“You owe me,” is the first thing you hear your friend say the moment you stepped foot back into the hotel you had booked for the night before. It was in a much different tone than of the one she had in line for the concert.

Frozen in place, you turn your attention to her sitting figure on one of the single couches of the lobby. She wasn’t happy that much you could tell judging by the expression on her face and the way she sat impatiently, one leg over the other and her arms crossed against her chest.

The bag next to hers on the ground adjacent to her feet were your belongings. The way it was misshapen suggested she had hastily shoved your things back in it for you. She must’ve been in a rush to leave before checking out or…

“You owe me $50 for the late check out fee,” she clarifies, ceasing all thoughts of why she was currently pissed at you.

Now begins the walk of shame. It wasn’t something you were used to. Could you even call this that? You had no reason to feel ashamed because you were completely aware of last night’s events. You defended your decision as so! Then why did you feel this way?

Perhaps it had to do with you just now returning to the hotel you were supposed to have been checked out of hours ago, but instead you’re greeted to your more than displeased best friend staring daggers at you for a different reason.

Sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of your neck, when you’re close enough to her, you open your mouth to begin apologizing, but she wasn’t done as she got up on her feet to level with you.

“You said you would be back before check out,” she said voice slowly rising in volume, no matter the distance between you two was close or not, you could tell this was just the start of a catalyst, “and it’s...oh,” she stops to look down at her phone, which shined bright revealing her lock screen and more importantly the time, “...only three hours past check out!” Yup, not happy with you at all.  

“I know you’re upset,” you start with the obvious, “and you have the right to be. I said I would be back in time, but I wasn’t,” maybe admitting you were wrong would allow her to see you were indeed aware of your mistakes, soften the blow to come a little bit.

“Upset? I’m disappointed!” she says, her arms falling to her sides and with a look of disbelief but is quickly washed over with indisposition. “Some sell-out rockstar invites you over to see him and you lose your sense of mind?”

“Look, I’ll pay you back. It’s no big deal.” At least on your end, you’re trying to remain calm even when her tone and choice of words get under your skin. You didn’t need this weekend to end on a bad note.

“This isn’t about the money!” She proclaimed.

“Then why are you bitching at me? I’m a grown adult! I know what I did-” Yeah, at least you were trying to stay composed, right?

“Do you?” She challenges. It’s one of those rhetorical questions, in which she didn’t need an answer to, but you were still going to give her one.

“Yes, ok. I slept with Bucky and I don’t regret it.”

The defense you put up so quickly around you weren’t something your friend was used to witnessing...maybe to your parents, yeah, but not at her. Sure, you’ve both had the occasional quarrels, but your relationship and sexual life was different because she really cared for your wellbeing and would be damned if someone hurt you.

“I’m just worried,” she admits for her initial brute front, “what you did was totally unlike you and I…”

“What?” You interrupt her, growing more tired of this conversation by the second.

“I don’t trust Bucky.” She blurts out.

You scoff at that reasoning, “you don’t know him-”

“And you do?” This time she interrupts and catches you off guard on that one. “You’re right. I don’t know him, but you said it yourself. Bucky meets tons of people every day. He’s on the road a lot. It’s easy for him to get lonely.”

There it was again. The self-conscious thoughts questioning everything about last night’s events. In a pathetic display of defense, you start counter-questioning her with some of the statements Bucky said to you. Why would he tell you all those sweet things and pretty promises if he knew he could have you so easily? Why would he think you weren’t like the other women out there who exposed their escapades for their 15 minutes of fame? What made him think anything of you? There were other girls in the crowd.

“He’s going to tell you things he wants you to hear to get what he wants.” She really believed that. She knew what some men were capable of. She had more experience than you and you often turned to her for things like this.

Her last sentence was something to let sink in. The way last night played out and the last few hours you spent with Bucky; you were blinded by a rose tint world.

Earlier that morning...

“You know,” Bucky starts with his gaze first set on your face, slowly starting to drift down your body trying to catch a glimpse of uncovered skin that the blanket was doing a horrible job in concealing. You watch with bubbling desire the way he bit his bottom lip and eyes growing darker, ”...if you ever need anything. I’m here to help. I can get you out of that town and you can stay with me in Brooklyn. We’ll find you a place to work in that’ll appreciate you more.”

He was a dream. He was so sweet, but you weren’t going to deny it. As much as you adored what little you knew about the real Bucky, a part of you that was always so careful was also skeptical. That voice in the back of your mind, whether it was your parents, teachers in the past, PSA spokespersons or your best friend, was still trying to tell you Bucky wasn’t an exception.

Then on the other hand, you were finally getting what you wanted. You weren’t a little girl anymore. You could take care of your own heart. Why couldn’t you have some fun? Indulge a little. Life is too short to sit around and wait. If he was serious about any of the things he said, then great! If not, oh well, you’ll live. What’s life without experience, right?

You just never imagined any of the harmless mentions or replies through social media were going to get you in bed with him and so smitten.

When Bucky pulls his lips away from you, he repositions himself on the bed to lie on his back and bask in the comfortable silence. You’re still on your side, but your eyes suddenly widen as you curiously take a peek over his frame and notice the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. The curtains were drawn shut, so you had no trace of the actual time of day.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, but was no use. It was just you and Bucky in the room and he’d definitely wonder why you’d grown frantic.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?” He says slowly sitting up, still exhausted, and watching you throw the hotel comforter over your body to get out of bed. You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of him. He’d have a souvenir to remember you by.

The sex tape was the least of your worries though. You fucking missed check out! You can only imagine the look on your friend’s face when you reunite.

“I missed check out,” you respond while momentarily being thrown off course in search of your underwear, but then instantly remembering how Bucky tore it off of you, and you did your best to push aside last night’s activities.

“What?” He asks, rubbing his face trying to rid himself of sleep. He had to get going too. The band was off to play in the next city in some hours. Unfortunately, you didn’t have enough time to take off from work to follow him.

“The hotel I’m staying at. I missed check out and my friend is going to be so pissed at me,” you explained beaten. You can’t for the life of you see where your clothes were in the dark room.

Drawing the curtains open or switching the light on without warning wouldn’t be ideal to the both of you and not only that, the effects of the substances your body was coursed through, the physicality of you and Bucky’s actions last night, the consequence of it all topped with the lone fact that you’re now standing naked in front of Bucky starts to seep in.

You try not to stand there awkwardly and do the only thing you can do. Inhibition creeping back in, you cover your face with your hands and breath in and out, hoping the floor would swallow you whole so you could escape this embarrassment and your friend’s pending wrath.

“Look,” Bucky says now in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, he’s naked too, washing away some traces of vulnerability away, “you’re already late. You can’t change that. We can only keep moving forward,” he says, his arms slipping around your body to pull you close to his.

The sudden jolt from the skin-to-skin contact quickly subsides with the warmth of his body transferring onto yours. You hold onto his biceps and nod in acceptance. Any attempt to rush back to your hotel wasn’t going to do you any favors now.

“So then, what do you say we get cleaned up and try to enjoy our time together?” The way his head tilted to the side, a not-so-subtle hint in the direction of the shower in the bathroom, his smooth voice and his eyes half-lidded, ready to get lost in you one more time.

You said it yourself, life was short, so if you already knew your friend was going to chew you out, why deny yourself of its pleasures right now, especially if it’s coming from Bucky. 

“Can we just get going? We’ll catch traffic on the way back to the city if we just stand here and keep putting each other down,” you ask, slightly shaking your head of the early morning activities and straightening yourself up, bending forward to pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

This little spat would eventually pass. None of the arguments you two had were ever threatening to your friendship with each other. You’ve both fought over things much more critical that it’d be a shame to let it be over someone like Bucky.

Before you could turn back around to exit, your friend grabs a hold of your arm and stops you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I could be wrong. Bucky could be the one, but I want you to be smart about doing whatever you end up doing with him. I just want you to ultimately be happy,” she says wholeheartedly.

You knew she was only coming from a good place. She only ever encouraged you to do your best and the right thing. She was the one you sought out advice from and she never led you astray. In the end, you knew you couldn’t ever truly be mad at her. You owed her more than $50 alone.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know your intentions are in the right place and I really appreciate you for everything. You even agreed to come to this show with me! But I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes along the way,” you say and notice the fallen look on her face, but you don’t give her long enough to feel sorry for you with your follow up statement, “...if I get hurt, it’s going to suck, but I’ll get back up, learn from it and move on. Plus, I’ll have you there by my side to tell you I told you so...again, and we both know how much you enjoy that!” You end it on a joking note.  

A look of hope creeps back in on your friend and she’s pleased to see your resilient attitude again. You give her your best steadfast smile and it seemingly proved to be successful enough for her to accept your answer as she pulls you in for a warm hug.

You wonder, what Bucky’s motive was? He was Bucky Barnes. He could have anyone. Why did he trust you enough to be intimate with? What was his game? You just had to keep telling yourself for your sanity and wellbeing, with or without Bucky, in the end you’d still be happy.

The months to follow after that tour, you and Bucky had continued to stay in touch. You genuinely felt happy. He was giving you attention! From daily texts and long phone conversations or video calls, some rather suggestive than most, you were able to really learn a lot about each other. While you minded his glamorous lifestyle, each interaction erased all notions of it and he was just another normal human being.

If you were being truthful, a part of you was hoping whatever the two of you had was exclusive. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were in a way reserving yourself for Bucky because you felt there was something between you two and maybe he was just like you and too shy to be the one to bring it up first.

At times you’d find yourself being the one to initiate conversation...especially when the communication started becoming less frequent. They then reduced to just Holiday texts and suddenly they’d become unresponsive and you’d even be left on read. He never flew you to Brooklyn. He never followed you back on social media. You’d accepted he was most likely busy and the excuse of not wanting to attract unwanted attention to you, but the reality of it was he had seemed to move on.  

It’d been close to a year and things were really quiet. The Avengers hadn’t released anything new nor did they have an upcoming tour to rehearse for. You’re trying to not let Bucky’s silence bug you and do what you’ve always told yourself - keep living your life. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were angry at first for letting him get to you like that and realize that boys will be boys. They would never grow a real pair and be straight with women. They always had to go and sugarcoat everything. You had to accept it. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. You were just a one-night stand and the worst part of it was that you consented to it, so you couldn’t hold anything against him.

Things picked back up in your life, work demanded more of your time and you were dating again, taking it very slow and casual. You knew nothing more would come out of it, but it was enough to distract you from Bucky. Life was slowly returning back to normal, even though it never truly could be, until you notice Bucky is posting regularly on his social media accounts again.

It’s not so much that but is one of the comments from another user that is a constant in each sporadic post. You recognize the user as an international model from another country. Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to check out her profile, noting all the photos of them together and realizing that while you thought Bucky went M.I.A., he was spending his free time getting cozy with her in exotic places.

Her comments start out harmless in the beginning, but quickly become more and more persistent until one sets the record straight. It read, “that’s MY man” followed by a number of heart eye emojis.

You didn’t even know Bucky and the model knew of each other, but why wouldn’t they? He was exposed to extraordinary people, so finding someone in the business was a better bet than settling with you. They lived in a totally different world than yours.

There’s a plethora of thoughts that run through your mind. This is why he isn't responding to you. He had a girlfriend, who was in a much different league than of your own, and he didn’t really go public with it on his end. It made you sad, that much you could admit to yourself because you held back for him, but you weren’t going to admit this feeling to him or your friend or the world. You were going to prove to them you’d do the same thing - move on. 

It’s a rather slow day at work and you’ve resulted in mindlessly scrolling through your Facebook newsfeed, but growing tired of lame memes and life updates from people you haven’t spoken to since high school, you switch over to Twitter for a more different kind of news and also a bit of some entertainment.

You’re not expecting the particular topic to be trending - #BuckyBarnesIsCancelled. You’d manage to move on from whatever it was between you and Bucky and returned back to your daily routine. You tried to remain a fan of The Avengers, but it wasn’t the same. The fling, if you could call it, with Bucky wouldn’t let you. You’d always be grateful for how their music impacted your life, but you’d have to keep living your life despite what transpired.  

Sitting up from your slumped position in your office chair, you ponder for maybe two seconds before clicking on the hashtag. Things were still pretty quiet with The Avengers, with the exception of paparazzi photos here and there, but this seemingly came out of nowhere. What stupid thing did he get himself into?

“No way,” you mock at the headline. Claims of Bucky being mentally abusive, and an addict were being made left and right.

You scrolled through the timeline and threads of replies to find the source of it all and you were shocked that it came from none other than his own girlfriend...well now ex-girlfriend you assumed. The vindictive side of you only allowed a small part in finding some humor in this, but if Bucky was any bit of the Bucky you spent the night with and got to know for those few short months then this was sad for him.

There wasn’t much you could do though. What were you to do? Send him a message of condolences of some sort? He’d probably just leave you on read. Whatever you two had was long over.

Bucky’s agency did well to defend him and save his reputation. They released one statement to clear things up. There’d been images before of him partying and no doubt high on some substance, but that didn’t prove he was an addict. Then again, did you ever really know him? You’d been exposed to that stuff around and because of him. Some people just had more access to certain things than others did.

In some time, when things leveled out once more, he seemed to be back in the clear, but at a rate where people have already decided whose story they believed over the other, whose side they were on, the damage had been done. If there was a recurring theme here, Bucky had one thing to do after the scandal - move on with his life.

It felt a little strange being here again. If you take into consideration some of the things that had already happened, a lot has really changed since you were last in a line to see The Avengers live.

The band had taken a short hiatus to let the fire die out from Bucky’s scandal. It was probably a smart move - to let people cool their jets and forget. It was last reported Bucky had turned a new leaf...something about getting help. Steve took time off to focus on other projects...something about humanitarian work. Sam released some solo stuff...something with a different sound, but still as successful. The time off was probably the best for the guys.

There weren’t as many people it seemed, but enough for them to play in one of the city’s largest venues. You suppose that’s what a span of three years could do to an artist. When the tour was announced you weren’t sure if you should buy a ticket or not, but it’d been some time since you had a night where you could forget about the stresses of the world for a few hours. Never mind the short stint between you and Bucky, you were still a fan of their music and the joyous feeling you got from it was timeless.

This time you were alone. You didn’t even tell your friend they were touring again. Bucky was almost a nonexistent topic for a good while now. Plus, she had her own life to live and couldn’t always be there next to you. You were the bigger fan after all. On top of that, she would’ve most likely have advised against you attending.

Your attire was not to impress, electing on something casual and comfortable with a simple pair of jeans, a leather jacket over a nice top that did a better job at controlling your cleavage than the last one, and cute boots. Yeah, a lot had changed, but the scene didn’t as there were still a mix of fans, old and new, over and under dressed.

The guys still had it. They looked great! They definitely belonged on the stage for the world to see. They even played a 3-song encore. You could tell they loved doing what they did and anyone who was a fan could feel the passion and energy they poured out in the performance.

You’re currently sitting in the seat of your car, head resting against the headrest as you try to unwind a little from standing for a few hours and from the walk back to the parking garage when your phone vibrates and chimes loudly.  

You glance over at the device you placed next to the driving console and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the name that appeared. Bucky Barnes. You’d never deleted his number and his text message thread had remained at the very bottom of your messaging app all this time. A sense of apprehension flows through you as you wonder what he could possibly want. How do you just text someone after ghosting them for over a year? Not to mention to someone you did something so intimate with and made all those promises to in the past. How does one do that?

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer or slip into restless thoughts about Bucky again because it wasn’t a walk in the park to forget about him, you open the text. It asks if you were in attendance because he claimed to have seen you in the crowd. This time around you’re not overthinking about what to respond with, you simply say yes. He’d been quick with his next message asking if you were still in the area to meet up.

The wise thing would probably be to reject the invite, but you find yourself once again staring at a hotel door waiting for him to open it. Initially, you’d suggested he tell you what he wanted to say via text, but he said it was something that had to be told in person. So, having been through what you had as a result of meeting up with him in the past, you had some sense of mind this time, you’d just have to make another mental note to not jump into bed with him again. If you were being truthful to yourself, the sex tape left you feeling a little cheap. He didn’t even send it to you as some form of fucked up courtesy or assure you that it wasn’t ever going to get leaked and luckily it hasn’t. You hoped he’d deleted it.

It was almost like Deja vu. You might as well have been reliving the night the first time Bucky invited you over to his hotel room. In the beginning it was kind of awkward and quiet, and it was exactly that years later, just with added history of course.

You’d chosen to sit on the end of one of the beds while Bucky moved slowly around the room trying to gather his thoughts and where to start. He notices the change in you. You were more confident and as you should be. Bucky Barnes couldn’t intimidate you this time. He had more to be embarrassed about than you did now.

Even though you had nowhere to be in the morning, it was getting late and you really would just like to get this meeting over with and Bucky was stalling.

“Bucky, why did you invite me here?” You say, the one to break the ice. He finally stops fidgeting around and focuses on you.

“I...I wanted to apologize,” he starts off, and you’re unmoving silence allows him to continue, “I realize how much of a complete dick I was to you…”

“What do you mean?” You ask. It’s not like he spread any dirty rumors about you or anything. He didn’t need to apologize for anything that you’re aware of. Maybe for leading you on, but you came to terms some time ago that maybe he didn’t owe you an explanation or perhaps you’d never get one. Yet here you both are.

“I used you,” he explains, now you’re confused, and he can see you’re not getting it entirely, which pains him. You didn’t think anything he did with you was wrong because you consented to it. It took two to tango, right?

Except it wasn’t like that at all and he wanted you to know how he strung you along all just for a quick fuck in the beginning and to cover his tracks he acted like he cared in getting to know you afterwards not realizing something purely good could come out of it for him. The confession wasn’t meant to hurt you again, but for you to realize your worth. He messed up with someone so special.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I remembered you from years before when you tripped in front of me,” there’s a small trace of happiness in the fond memory, “...and when I saw you in the crowd that night, fuck you looked so good and you still do…” he ended up a flustered mess after that small admission.

“Where is this going?” You ask hoping he’d get back on track and reveal the rest, trying to keep the fact he admitted an attraction to you in the back of your mind.

“Right...I’ll admit my ego got the best of me. The band was doing so well, everyone noticed us! I was getting attention from all kinds of people! I got hooked to different things,” suppose those articles were true then about him getting clean, you thought to yourself, “...it does get lonely on the road and I was so desperate for anyone,” oh you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t say what he was going to say next, but he does, “...and I knew there wouldn’t be that much effort on my part to get you to sleep with me.”

Great. Your friend was right then, and he was just like any other house name artist.

“Um...okay, that’s not something I was wanting to hear about myself,” you said after letting that sink in. Did you still appear to look easy?

“No, I’m sure it’s not, but when we were alone together everything was just easy-”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m easy!” You interrupt, and now you’re angry. As he’s trying to explain his actions, you started thinking about how mad and hurt you were when he started ghosting you. You couldn’t be upset about him getting a girlfriend, but the fact that he didn’t think he could continue even being your friend and instead just chose to ignore you was the better option was hella annoying.

“That’s not what I meant!” He says trying to justify his choice of words.

“Then how did you mean it?” You demand, and Bucky is a bit stunned with your new attitude. He foresaw that he would have a difficult time in explaining himself, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard dealing with how much his actions affected you.

“Everything was easy with you because you made it easy to feel,”

“I don’t know if I understand,” you say and attempt to get up, “...maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No, please. Let me finish,” Bucky is quick to get in front of you as he pleads for you to stay. You give him a slight nod and sit back down.

“Things with you were easy in a sense that being around you I was able to just be myself. I’ve never said those things to girls before you! I didn’t have to impress you with anything flashy. I even forgot I was some rockstar! You’re an incredible person, really-”

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I just can’t,” you say, hating to interrupt him again, but you’re not ready to hear any of this, “...none of this still doesn’t sound right. It was just one night and then how do you explain just ghosting me the moment you get a supermodel girlfriend?” that last part came out unintentionally feisty but might as well let him know how you’d felt, “You couldn’t even be my friend when you were with her! I guess it was easy to just forget me too…”

Bucky lowers his head ashamed of how he handled that and just nods in acknowledgement of his actions, “you’re right. It doesn’t make sense, but what I feel is even harder to explain...”

“None of this accounts for her,” you demand. A part of you just wanted to know where she came from. How did it happen? Who asked who out? It wasn’t important information to know about, but the urge of human curiosity was large.

“She wasn’t even my idea,” he muttered, not really wanting to talk about her.

“What?” You ask.

“Getting with her was the label’s idea,” he admits, hating he was coerced into the idea of an on-screen relationship.

You scoff at the stupidity of fake relationships in the Entertainment industry. Why did people get their rocks off over it? Were OTPs really that a big deal? Are people so bored with their own lives that they have to push corporate into bringing two people who don't have feelings for each other together? However, Bucky thinks you don’t believe him and given how little you developed in trusting him with things, he’s not entirely wrong.

“I know it was a dumb thing to agree to and it’s one of the horrors working in this business, but I know now I should’ve just been forward with you,” Bucky says, voice still riddled begging for forgiveness.

“Why couldn’t you then?” You interrogate and notice the creases of distress on his face soften. “If I made it so easy to feel, then why wasn’t it just that to tell me the truth?”

“I-I don’t know,” he replies.

“Yes, you do,” you retort, and pretend you’re going to leave, but by doing so you know it’ll only get him to spill the beans quicker.

“I was scared!” He admits, stepping in front of you and keeping you still in your place on the end of the bed.

“Scared? Of what? Me?” You ask incredulously looking up at him.

“Yes!” He says and kneels down in front of you. “You’re so perfect! You’re real! You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity. You didn’t even participate when people started cancelling me or whatever! You could’ve and you had every right to expose me, but you didn’t!” Your act did the trick, because the words just kept coming out of Bucky.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you, for not telling you I was with her, but the more I got to know you, a part of me got really scared that I couldn’t keep being the kind of man you deserved because of my problems,” by this point, Bucky has placed both his hands on either side of you, his arms trapping you, “...trust me, I had a lot of time to think about everything I did wrong and what harm my reckless lifestyle has on others…I just feared it was already too late, but the one thing that I always thought about that helped me get through it was the lone night I had with you. I was so happy! I wanted that again...I had to get back to that, so I invited you back to try,” you didn’t even realize how close his face was to yours. He looked so torn and you hated seeing him like that, but there was nothing you could say that could fix things right now.

Bucky now felt vulnerable and almost pathetic. Just because he wanted another shot of happiness, and with you of all people, what made it okay for him to think you wanted to try again? You weren’t so certain of what you wanted with him anymore.

“Wow,” is all you give. You’re not sure what more you could add. After all that, he actually liked you? Were you still sure you weren’t living in some fanfic world? You needed some time to think about that and much to Bucky’s expectations, you weren’t going to come to a conclusion before you left this room tonight.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” You offer him the floor, and he gets it. You’re not going to say anything particular to his confession, at least not now. He’s not upset at all. It was a lot to take in. He had time to think, and he had to respect the time you’d need now.

He nods and backs away, realizing the close proximity, “just one question,” you nod this time and let him ask, “do you regret it?”

You know what he’s referring to, sleeping with him, the sex tape, the countless conversations, meeting with him right now - everything.

“No,” you answer honestly.

He lets out a weak smile, looking down sheepishly and adds, “I’ve never done anything like this with anyone before, I promise.”

He could promise and swear up and down all he’d like, but how could you be really sure? The only response you could give him is a small, neutral hum in acknowledgement.

Bucky knew this conversation wasn’t going to go as he had hoped. He really didn’t have a plan, he just really wanted to see you again. He goes silent and you know at this point, everything was all laid out. Time would tell the rest if this was worth saving.

“I can forgive you. I know I can because in a way part of moving on allows one to do so but completing a session or doing time in rehab doesn’t really prove anything,” you said brutally honest with him, he looks up at you almost defeated and just waiting for the final blow.

“You said a lot of promising things back then and you said a lot more tonight,” you add on, and gently begin to remove his hands from the spots either side of you to let you free, and get up to head out, however not with one more thing he could reflect on, also giving him hope, “...you need to show you’ve really changed,” then the conversation was over.

In some ways, these events needed to happen. He had to hit rock bottom to learn from his mistakes and kick out the bad habit. He knew now that he had to work hard to give you a reason to trust him and maybe even in the long run be with him.

On the other hand, you had to go through this whole thing in order to not base your happiness on someone else. You could be happy on your own and open enough to be with someone that wasn’t Bucky. 

For the next few months, to your surprise, Bucky had actually made an effort to keep in touch with you. It wasn’t overbearing and he minded your space as well as he could from a distance, given that he was still busy with the band and other duties that came with his status.

While at times he could be flirty, you learned it was part of his charm. Your friend wasn’t entirely thrilled when you’d admitted to her that you visited Bucky that night. You might’ve not shown it, but she knew how much his past actions affected you. Granted it did its job in teaching you a lesson and in return allowed you to be more confident and to not take anyone’s bullshit, she’d be damned if Bucky tried to pull another act like that around you again.

By now, you were comfortable enough with him to even tell him about random dates you’d gone on; none proving to be long-term, but it was nice to confide in someone else other than your best friend and get an opinion from a male perspective.

You weren’t going to lie, there was a part of you that still liked Bucky more than a friend, but you weren’t sure when it was okay to willingly go all in again with him. Sure, you’d given him another chance, but just how low could people really go to get what they wanted? Some people could just be really manipulative, and you weren’t wanting to ruin what you’ve both rebuilt for yourselves. Either way, you’d be happy with him in your life even as a friend, which is how it could’ve gone if he’d been honest from the get-go.

The year was coming to a close and you’re at your job’s annual Christmas party. You’d managed to convince your friend to be your plus one, but she claimed she didn’t need bribery because your company always ordered outstanding catering and who in their right mind would turn down free food anyways?

Aside from pretending you were having a great time talking to your co-workers, most of which whom you barely spoke to at the office and as faux-friendly as they were tonight, you felt stupid for glancing at your phone every now and then hoping to get a message from Bucky. He’d been keeping you entertained the first half of the party until he just stopped responding.

Your friend had ditched you to take advantage of the open bar several minutes ago, so you were sitting at a table alone trying not to look pathetic. You started thinking of when an appropriate time would be to leave when the Market Manager of your job took the mic. Too late, you thought to yourself and decided to get comfortable in your seat and listened to what cheesy Holiday speech they had to give, but what you hadn’t expected was a surprise guest.  

“What the hell?” You said to yourself as you watched Bucky, Steve and Sam shake hands with one of your bosses before settling into what would appear as an acoustic performance.

How’d they manage to get in contact with your job? Who gave them the in? Bucky knew what you did for a living, but you never stayed on that subject long enough to think much about it. Then your friend slides into the empty seat next to you, a drink in one hand and a knowingly smirk on her lips, one that suggests she was definitely in on this act. You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring at her with a stupid look of disbelief all over your face until your name is echoed throughout the speakers.

It snaps you out of your trance and you focus your attention to Bucky on stage, a huge smile on his face. All formalities set aside, he highlights you and your friendship before jumping into their new single, which was widely popular right now. Normally, you weren’t one to take compliments easily, not used to so much attention, but the whole world disappeared with Bucky.

Once their little set was over, the majority of your colleagues enjoyed the performance and asked for photos, to which the guys were more than happy to appease to. Your friend had managed to escape your clutches once more, this time abandoning you for the dessert table. You’re not alone for long as Bucky occupies the seat left open next to you. You look around your surroundings, hoping there aren’t any more surprises in store, and practically attack him with a big hug.

Bucky’s chuckle is muffled, his face buried in your hair, as he wraps his arms around you to return the gesture. When you pull away, you’re almost left speechless, but you’re dying to know how he managed to get here. He was technically still on tour and this was not one of the passing by cities.

“How?” You ask.

“Hi to you too,” he said with a cheeky grin, to which you playfully slap his arm, and he responds with your friend’s name. He explained how he’d wanted to see you and how much he had to grovel for your friend to trust him. She’d helped him arrange a meeting with your boss, who turned out to be a huge fan of The Avengers, and even sneak them inside the building all under your nose. She wasn’t easy to persuade, but if she was convinced enough to work with Bucky on anything then you knew this meant something more.  

The initial notion of wanting to leave the party immediately vanished and you wanted nothing more than to just sit there in Bucky’s company all night. Steve and Sam greeted you and you never realized that this was actually the first time meeting them formally and not outside of a venue. They weren’t rockstars to you any more than you were just a fan to them. They were Bucky’s friends, of course he’d confined to them on his end as much as you did with yours.

At some point they had excused themselves to catch the last flight headed back to Brooklyn, but Bucky had decided to stay longer. When it was time to leave, you found out Bucky hadn’t planned long enough to where he would stay the night in your city. The original plan was to fly back home with the guys and pick up on the remainder of the tour. They had a few days off, but it was just a few days shy of ending, and he couldn’t wait that long to see you.

It’s funny how life works because this time you’re the one inviting him to your place. You weren’t going to blame it on the open bar or how late it was or the underlying tension that was surrounding you two, but one thing was certain, it was mutual, and you both weren’t going to deny the attraction any longer.

You’d missed the weight of Bucky’s body on yours more than you’d realized as your hands held his face, keeping his lips attached to yours. You could taste the remnants of the unfinished drink he’d abandoned at the coffee table on his tongue. Bucky’s hands hiked your leg over his waist to get you to lie flat on your couch.

You’re the first to attempt to remove clothing by popping open the buttons of his button-up shirt before completely ridding of the item leaving him in his thin undershirt. You feel his hands slide up from your hips along your back as they dig into the minimal space the arch of your back had created for him to slowly unzip the back of your dress. With your lips both still attached, you manage to sit up, your dress falling down and bunching at the waist in the process, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to see you in an outfit that would not work with a bra.

Bucky curses breathlessly when he pulls his lips away from yours for a quick breather, but in the process, he takes a peek at your half naked body. You can tell he’s just itching to touch you and you take the commanding lead and place his hands on you. The atmosphere grows thicker, him kneading your breasts, you smash your lips on his in a sloppy lock.

You push Bucky down on his end of the couch and manage to kick your loose dress all the way down your legs and off your body. Bucky’s hands travel down to the curve of your ass before he grabs a handful of flesh, causing you to moan into the kiss. Your hands rake through his styled hair, the product he used unstiffening and his hair falls limp in your grasps.

Bucky’s hands started to aid your hips in moving roughly against his clothed member, desperate to relieve some friction, and you internally blushed remembering how thick he was, how full it felt to have his cock stuffed inside of you. You didn’t remain celibate during the hiatus of your relationship, you both had urges, but Bucky had really ruined others that came after him.

Your lips drifted down Bucky’s body, kissing at the skin of his chest in the pattern following the swoop-line seam of the undershirt that he was still wearing. You skipped the expanse of his toned stomach, until you’re met with the small amount of skin that peeked between his bottoms and hem of his undershirt. You slightly lift the material up and place small pecks at his lower abdomen, which causes a low groan to rumble in Bucky’s throat.

Your fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, with the zipper pulled apart, you’re marveling at the imprint of his hard cock, already twitching and staining his boxers. You manage to break your gaze and look up at Bucky, who is desperately pleading with you to proceed. Your eyes never leave his as you lower your head closer to his member, tongue darting out to the dark spot of his boxers, tasting the precum.

The contact causes him to squirm and lips form in a tight line. You pull down his pants and agonizingly peel off his boxers slowly, dragging it down to his thighs, just enough to expose him enough for you to work with before you wrap a hand around his length. Bucky’s upper body is supported by his bent elbows so he could watch you.

You kiss the tip of his leaking cock, a small string of his precum sticking to your lips when you pull back, to which you run your tongue over. Bucky’s head falls back just in time when your lips enclose the head, tongue twirling around the ridge and teasingly at the slit and loving the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat. You inch your mouth down his length and your vacant hand gets quick to work on what you’re not able to intake while the other runs up his exposed abdomen, your fingers curling in and lightly scratching down as it runs down to massage one of his thighs. You can feel the muscle in his thigh flex at your touch the more your head bobs up and down on him.  

A plethora of curses spew from his mouth, but the rush of sucking his cock, the gurgling of your spit mixed with his precum and occasional choking noise when your throat contracts around him, is all you can hear from your perspective. When you part from his member, you’re breathing intensifies, desperate for more air to enter your system, eyes slightly watering, lips swollen, your hand lazily slathering the wetness all over him.

“You’re so good at that,” Bucky comments and he finally manages to pick his head back up to look at you. He reaches forward to swipe at the mess on the corner of your chin, but you’re hungry for more, and you move your head to the side to suck on his thumb, eyes closed as you hum at the taste of his skin and essence.

Your soft tongue running against the pad of his somewhat calloused thumb, it pops lightly when you release the digit, a small, devious smile on your lips as you scoot away to lie on the other end of the couch. He’s almost at aghast by this, but even back then you were just always full of surprises around him and he wasn’t going to deny the appeal of your sexual allure.

Bucky is quick to get to your side, completely riding himself off the rest of his clothes - the undershirt, pants and boxers - he had dressed to impress but right now nothing more than but overdressed. He gently parts your legs, kissing up your calves and thighs, until settles between them, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your scantily covered core.

Unlike last time, you’re not afraid to watch him and he sends you a knowingly wink, quickly ascending up to give you a sweet kiss, while his fingers slip inside your panties and between your lips. Your hips eagerly thrust upwards hoping his fingers slip in.

“Baby, we got all night,” he says cradling your face in his other hand. You let out a small whine, but regardless attempt to be patient. Bucky studies your face, mesmerized by every structure and unique feature, then what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was only a few seconds, he sinks a finger inside your wet pussy.

As soon as the gasp leaves your lips, his lips swoop in and tongue instantly dipping in search of yours. The heated kiss only heightens the sensation in the pit of your stomach, your hips losing control and every buck up into his hand, your clit rubs up against his palm, invigorating it. The curl of his finger, lightly probs at the right spot inside you, you uncontrollably squeal against his lips, with a hand against his chest you gently push his body away from yours.

“Oh my God! Fuck, Bucky…” you say with your head tilting back to the curve of the couch’s arm. You feel Bucky’s lips kiss and suck at your exposed neck as his fingers continue their handy work, the lewd noises causing your eyes to roll back.

His lips find their way next to your ear, gently nipping at it, and you could just drown at the sound of his husky breathing and filthy words. “Can I taste you?” He asks. You’re not sure why he was asking, you’d want nothing less. You nod almost instantaneously before allowing him to remove your panties.  

Bucky’s hungry eyes remain fixated on your glistening core, “oh, I missed this pussy,” he comments before his tongue fondles the lips. He has a hand lying flat against one of your legs, pressed on the couch to keep them spread apart, the other blocked by his body. His routine contrasts his old with how his tongue moves in slow and calculated laps. His mouth was very talented, given whatever style he chose to play.

You’re tethering on an orgasm and Bucky wanted nothing more than to watch you come undone for him. Bucky’s fingers and tongue work in tandem and fast to help you reach a climax.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky manages to ask in between, eyes peering up at you. You don’t actually answer because you can’t concentrate from the pleasure he’s bestowing and the impending release. “Good. I want you to cum. I want all this pussy has to give,” his voice hitting a different low, even his fucking voice was so sexy. Your hands clutch on fistfuls of the couch cushions when you feel the first wave of pleasure wash over your body, your hips stilled in place as Bucky laps up at your arousal.

“The sweetest thing ever,” Bucky mutters mostly to himself, but hearing that comment only feeds your ego, which never is a bad thing in an intimate setting. Your chest heaves up and down from the impact. Just as Bucky is about to crawl back up to parallel, you stop him with a foot at his chest. He grabs your small foot in his hand and blinks at your resistance.

“Sit back,” you command. He drops your foot and watches as your body maneuvers around to climb over his. He didn’t even realize his body had complied to your demand, absolutely hypnotized by you.

You lean in for a deep kiss, one that leaves his brain a mush, yours too almost that you have to steady yourself with one hand on the couch armrest. You reach a hand down between your bodies and grab a hold of his hard cock. Your fingers tracing along the vein before you start rubbing his head through your sensitive, wet folds. Bucky’s hands lay lightly on your hips, trying with all his might to not force you to take him all the way in. A large part of him liked this dominant side of you. There was so much about you he was dying to unearth.

“Baby, please…” he begins pleading as you barely press the tip of his cock just at your entrance before you slowly lower your body down to engulf his entire length. You sit still once you’re sure you’ve bottomed out, not noticing Bucky’s fingers digging into your hips, sure enough to leave crescent marks and tiny bruises.

Bucky’s face is buried in your neck, your cheek pressed against the top of his head, lost in the mop of dark hair. You feel his cock twitch inside of you causing your hips to ground on his. He was in so deep, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last in this position, but you’d be damned if you denied it.

You start with slow swivels before sliding back and forth on his cock. Bucky’s hands released their death grip from your hips, one travelled to the front to grope at your breasts while the other supported your body settling itself on the small of your back. Your hands set themselves on the back of the couch on either side of his head, using it as leverage to ground down harder on him.

“Mm, I missed fucking this big cock,” you lean down to whisper right in his ear, “you’re so deep, Bucky.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spits out curse after curse at your dirty words. “You gonna cum on this big cock, hmm?” He asks. The question comes as a challenge and you weren’t ready to give up the ropes to him.

“Yeah, is this big cock gonna cum inside this tight pussy?” You counter the question, speeding up your gyrations until you start to feel the burn in your thighs and stomach begin to twist. He lets out a low, long growl, his eyes lulling shut and head falling back against the couch, ready to succumb to euphoria.

“No,” you say, suddenly ceasing all movements to pull at his hair. The sharp pain in his scalp causes his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “Keep your eyes on me,” you command much like how he did with you the first time. You watch him swallow the knot in his throat and give him a wicked smile before picking back up where you left off.

Your hands are sprawled on his sweaty chest as you bounce up and down his length. Bucky’s senses are on overdrive, the way your pussy naturally hugs his cock, walls squeezing occasionally, your breasts swaying right in front of him, your skin shining from the layer of sweat coating your body, and the look of immense pleasure written all over your face because of him.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says over and over as some form of warning, hoping you’re not far behind.

The way his face contorted in ecstasy, lips parted, sweat building up on his forehead, the tip of his cock stabbing at your sweet spot, you were about to cum too. His words become a muffled mess when you attempt to silence him with a bruising kiss just as you reach your high, pussy clenching tight around his cock milking him of everything he’s got. Each spurt of his hot cum that shoots inside you causes your hips to stutter in response. Bucky attempts to keep them at bay with a hand pressed against your back, keeping your body close to him and in the process also instilling his seed is rooted deep inside of you.

“God...damn,” Bucky says short of breath when your body lies limp against his. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, you haven’t attempted to move just yet as you both sat there with his cock still buried in. When you manage to sit up, you stare back at Bucky with tired eyes, but there’s a smile on both your faces. It only slightly falters at his next words.

“I love you,” he says earnestly. Thankfully your silence doesn’t bother him, “...you don’t have to say it back,” he adds, “I just wanted you to know. You’re so special,” he proclaims and your heart leaps at the very admission. You only nod for now but give him another reassuring smile because in time you knew you could allow yourself to love Bucky and be loved by him in return. It wasn’t a conventional meeting, but this was your life, not everyone else's.

When you finally manage to pull yourself off his cock, it slips out fluidly with a trail of his cum following in suit. You knew you’d curse yourself later on, but you’re both too tired to clean the mess right now. The pair of you settle into a lying position, facing one another, encased in each other’s arms. It’s a moment of bliss as you both just lie there, his eyes closed and a smile seemingly permanently etched on his face, only around you.  

“Hey Bucky,” you pipe up breaking the silence. He hums in response, “I want to know something...” you start out with.

“Anything,” he says, eyes still closed, his hand running up and down your arm, an indicator that he’s present and listening.

“What happened between you two?” Curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’re hoping this doesn’t ruin the moment, but you had to know. What went wrong? Besides, if this was going to work, he was going to have to be honest.

“Uh, she saw something on my phone…” he said cautiously, “...that involved you.” Your eyes widen at that. It couldn’t have been the sex tape you hoped.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp, sitting up and just hoping he doesn’t confirm it.

“Relax!” He says pulling you back down with him, “She was psycho. She went through my texts and saw some of the photos we used to send to each other. She must’ve thought they were recent.” He explains like it was no big deal.

Your heart stops racing slightly, you’re a bit relieved that she didn’t go as far as posting any of the photos on the Internet. You knew you were risking it by sexting with Bucky, but what was that saying? Hell hath no fury…and in a blind rage, she lashed out only on Bucky, but if she was a psycho, who knows what else she might’ve found on Bucky’s phone.

“Bucky?” you figure you might as well know now.

“Yeah…”

“What did you do with that sex tape?” You’d been dying to know if it was safely stored away or if maybe he even still watched it or just deleted it.

A big toothy grin spreads across his lips, his pearly whites on full display as he laughs at the question before he reaches over to the table next to the couch, where his cell phone rested on.

“Want to make a sequel?” He asks suggestively with a smirk on his lips and waving his phone at you, to which you playfully attempt to snatch from his grasp. He’s too quick, but nonetheless he replaces the phone in its original spot before focusing his attention on you alone.

“You don’t think this is all weird?” He questions almost hesitantly while tracing the outline of your jaw delicately. You’re not thinking that at all. You’d both been through a lot during the last few years that the only thing that was normal now was what you both had.

You shake your head in response, too tired for words, and drowning in the blissful moment. Bucky nods before declaring, “good because you make so happy,” then ending the night with sweet kisses. 

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re busy at the studio today...” you start, cell phone pressed against your ear. You’re attempting to leave a voicemail to your boyfriend, who was expecting your arrival later that day, “...but I just wanted to assure you that this isn’t weird, and I can’t wait to see you...I love you, Bucky,” you finish up the message and stuff the device into your bag just in time to hear the voice of the airline staff making the pre-boarding announcements booming loudly from the speakers.  

Now boarding Group B for flight #107 to JFK Airport...final destination Brooklyn, New York.

A/N: We’ve been in quarantine for so long, I don’t remember how airport announcements are like anymore and I was only in Brooklyn last Spring…RIP to the good times.

A happy ending was weird to write in the end and I actually don’t like this particular Bucky so it could’ve gone really bad, but I said to myself, no, not this time, I can do what the title says and let them be just that - happy. I too can be happy if you give this a like, reblog or comment! Thanks for reading!  

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[cherrywoes]

crimson king. (diavolo x fem!reader.)

prologue.

“Stricken among a field of poppies,

With hair as red as molten flame,

The Crimson King brought low the thane,

And thus usurped his father’s throne,

For there would be a day the world would end,

And he would not see it until his own life’s end.”

— the records of Paimon, King of the West.

masterlist | i. cruor.

♕

“LADIES, GATHER ‘ROUND.” The Matriarch of House Gascoigne clapped her silk gloved hands sharply. The sound echoed throughout the dance room, cracking through the air with the force of a whip. “We have news from the capital!”

An excited murmur rose amongst the girls. It had been months since the royal family had last issued news on any events regarding the palace, or the King and Queen themselves; ever since their children, the prince and princess, had fallen ill with some unknown illness, not a mere scant of word was allowed outside the palace doors, much less from the mouths of maids and butlers. It had left much of House Gascoigne (their female occupants, at least) with little to do besides practice their waltz, needlework, and plan on wooing the finest bachelors in the kingdom. To have this little bit of gossip to break their melancholy was welcoming—even if it was bad news, for a time.

“News from the capital!” One girl gasped, reaching for the letter in delight. The Matriarch held it high above her head, swatting the girl’s grasping fingers with the paper and striking a deep cut in her hand. She hissed and pressed the well of blood to her mouth, scowling at the older woman.

“Yes, news.” The Matriarch’s stony gray gaze flickered over the throng of girls, counting each head—seven in all, her daughters—and found herself just one shy. She counted once more, just to be sure, and yet again, she was lacking a duckling with particular [color] hair and [color] eyes. “Where’s [Name]?”

“[Name]?” Another of the sisters rolled her eyes and stamped her heel. The hem of her dress caught in the stiletto and she was forced to listen to the slight tear of the seam as it punctured through the expensive fabric. “Please! It’s not like she cares for idle gossip; open the letter, mother!”

“Last I heard she went out hunting with father,” one crowed slyly, waving a lace fan in front of her face coquettishly. Her eyes, sharp and blue, darted over to the matriarch, whose face was unmoving. “Not much of a change, is it, sisters?”

“Girls!” The matriarch’s sharp tone cut through the speculating chatter like a knife. The sisters dropped their gazes to the floor momentarily, then back up to their mother, properly chastised. “I am ashamed of you—all of you. Speaking of your sister as if she is scum of the earth; why, your father would be disappointed in all of you. I do not believe any of you deserve to hear this news today.”

“No, mother! We promise not to speak of her as such again!” Similar sentiment rose, each girl pleading with their mother individually with different promises and different oaths. “Please, the letter!”

The matriarch looked upon her daughters with a narrowed gaze. They returned her stare with ones of silent pleading. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Very well then. Let’s see what it says, shall we?”

She cracked the wax seal upon it and with a cough to clear her throat, began to read.

“Marriage?” You parroted back at your father with gawkish eyes. Your mare came to a still beneath you, snuffling at a patch of vibrant green grass, a product of the new spring. You could feel the stays of your corset protest at the deep inhale of disbelief you took, squeezing hard shards of whale bone against your ribs. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“It’s time, [Name].” Your father sighed, much in the same way your mother would do when she was exasperated with something you or one of your sisters had said. He adjusted the reins of his horse’s bridle, nervous, and stared off in the distance somewhere away from you. “You know I would never force you into an arranged marriage, but…”

“But I need to start looking,” you mocked in a high, posh voice. You snorted through your nose and fixed him with a dark glower. “How many times have I heard that before? Ten? Twelve?”

“I know… I know your mother pressures you,” he amended,”but this time I’m afraid I’m the one asking you to begin searching. You’re twenty years old, [Name], far past the age of marriage already; I just want to see you well off and comfortable, if not happy.”

“And my happiness doesn’t matter as long as I’m well off and comfortable.”

This wasn’t how you expected your day out with your father to go. You had expected to hunt dove, at most, maybe a few squirrels or two; your quiver had been packed to handle it. Instead, you had gotten barely a foot or so into the forest, your mare eager to head into the lush grass, before he was bringing up the subject of your marriage—again. This wasn’t the first time you had heard it, but it was the first time it had come from him, and you were starting to wonder if they were just concerned or wanted you gone.

“Sometimes you can have one thing and forsake the other.” He shrugged helplessly. “I would rather you have money and comfort. But if you can somehow gain happiness as well, then…”

Which was highly unlikely, he was saying, as your marriage would likely be out of convenience, as the majority of your older sisters’ were. Your family was rich and everyone wanted part of the Gascoigne fortune—if not in gold, then in their daughters. Each of your sisters had a dowry large enough to buy off a country or two and every dirty old man wanted a piece of it, whether you were willing or not. Luckily, your parents were not so old fashioned as to arrange your marriage with a far older man, or push you in that direction, but they directly encouraged you to get married soon, and quickly. It didn’t help that a lot of the men repeated the foul saying “Gascoigne pussies are as good as gold”, meaning that if they were lucky enough to get any of your sisters or yourself with child, they might as well be set for life.

You didn’t want that. Not if you could help it.

With narrowed eyes, you looked at your father once more. He was fidgeting in his saddle, avoiding looking at you entirely, and by the look on his face, you had to wonder if he was just nervous or debating asking you to attend a debut ball knowing full well that you would be five years older than any other girl there—at least, that was your assumption. You had missed your first and subsequent balls after a particular rough bout of sickness that kept you bedridden; you had only recently been able to function normally again, albeit with some lightheadedness if you were too active in a short period of time.

“Right.” You reached up and held a hand over your head to deflect an oncoming branch. “Well, I guess I have no choice in the matter, do I?”

He sighed once more. “You know if I had any other choice, I would give you all the time in the world, [Name]. But the older you get the more you risk turning out an old crone with no marriage ties. I don’t want that for you—your mother doesn’t want that for you.”

You huffed and turned your head. Your mother’s sole goal was to marry off all of her daughters to eligible bachelors to get them off her hands; at least the ones who didn’t cater to her every whim, like yourself and a few other of your sisters. She was not a cruel mother by any means, but she was a thorn in your side at times, especially with her insistence on perfection. Your waltz and embroidery were as perfect as they were going to get, and you most certainly weren’t going to shrink your waist down to her tastes either. You would be surprised if she didn’t have something else to harp on you about when you returned home.

“I suppose.” A glance at the sky revealed it was already lunch time. You had already skipped tea with your mother and sisters; skipping another meal was a bad idea, even if you were out hunting. A very unladylike sport, she would probably hiss. “We should probably get back for lunch if we don’t want mother getting angry at us again.”

Your father almost seemed surprised, looking up at the sky himself. “It is, isn’t it? I heard we’re having pigeon pie today.”

“Pigeon pie?” You repeated slowly. “Father, that was yesterday. We’re having potato soup today.”

“Oh. Are we?”

You didn’t answer, watching him turn his horse around and begin the ride back home. You followed at a distance behind him, watching as he regarded the trail as if it was entirely new to him and familiar in some spots. You had been wondering if his illness had gotten worse and your proof was right in front of you. His father before him had been afflicted with the same memory loss, a product of a few lines of inbreeding centuries before, you had heard, but only in the paternal line. It had started with him mixing up names and stuttering them into the proper ones; then he slowly began to fall out of his routine, eyeing his paperwork in slight confusion; and just now, forgetting days and time.

Before you could call out to him and ask what day he thought it was, you heard an ungodly screech coming from the manor. It sounded faintly like one of your sisters, but it was loud enough that the birds in the trees startled and took to the sky. You urged your horse into a canter, your father following suite, and the closer you got, the more you could make out actual voices instead of mindless screeching.

“—this is ridiculous! How does she get to go to the palace and I’m stuck here?! Mother, it makes no sense! She’s twenty years old, she has no chance—”

“—oh, please, Violetta, like you could do any better at nineteen—”

“—says you two, I could sweep him off his feet without even a—”

“—I wouldn’t even need a dance, just five minutes alone in a—”

“—Adrielle, shut your mouth! I ought to send you to a convent!”

“There she is!” A finger went flying to point to you as your mare pushed through the treeline, hooves clopping on firm stone. “Mother, tell her to turn down the offer!”

All of your sisters, including even the youngest ones, just shy of fourteen, were gathered around the cut in the pathway in a tight cluster. All of them had some range of fury or irritation on their faces as they looked at you, clutching their lace fans or skirts tightly in their fists. You had only faintly heard your mother’s threat to send Adrielle to a convent and raised an eyebrow at the little crowd they made, pulling your horse to a halt with her reins. You wouldn’t dare risk dismounting in a dress, so you stared down at them all from your mount in confusion.

“[Name],” your mother approached your horse with some hesitation, eyeing the mare’s ears in any hint of her mood. “Here. This arrived for you in the mail today.”

You didn’t miss the sour tone in her voice. You accepted the opened letter from her with a raised eyebrow, the broken seal on the back stamped with the royal crest. Your sisters watched you like a hawk, searching for any hint that you weren’t happy with whatever the letter said.

While the envelope wasn’t addressed to you, the letter inside was: it was written in the elegant hand of the Queen herself, even down to a personalized address from her as well.

‘Dear [Name] of House Gascoigne,

It is my pleasure to notify you that you have been selected to participate in the Bride Hunt for Prince Diavolo of the Devildom. As you filled all the requirements to participate, you, along with three other girls in your bracket, will be escorted to the palace to participate in a selection of games picked by the prince himself. As this is a show of goodwill between our kingdom and that of the Devildom, we encourage you to be on your best behavior with your fellow competitors and play to win.

As a more personal note, I do hope you participate, [Name]. I believe you have a true chance at winning, my dear.

Queen Cordelia.’

In the corner of the letter was her personal seal, stamped in shining red wax. Unbroken, you could make out the sigil of the phoenix, a half of the official crest. You looked up at your mother’s expectant face and then at your father’s hopeful one, having likely guessed what it was.

You sighed.

“I suppose I’m going to the palace after all, then.”

Your sisters groaned in disappointment. Some of them even clicked their tongues at you and turned to head inside, your mother turning on her heel and chiding them on their childish behavior.

Your father caught your eye as you moved your horse to head to the stables. His smile was one of pride and hope, as if this had made all of his dreams come true.

You only hoped you wouldn’t disappoint him when it all was over.

taglist (open): @crashica (just let me know if you want to be added!)

[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream I // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.

Warnings: Swearing, strict parents, missing persons, cops, violence, death, and angst

Words: 3k

A/N: Finished one series, starts a new one then gets hit with a dream of a crossover with Narnia and JATP. My brain needs to stop.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Patterson Home, 1994

The teen’s hands laced up her boots with her mind stuck on the successful dinner with the boy situated on the couch. His eyes lost in daydreams of the girl he had shared a sweet goodbye with, seeing her at school felt like it would be years. Luke Patterson was slowly building up to ask out the girl of his dreams.

You glanced over at the messy-haired brunette you had known for years through your older brother Alex. A year separated you from Luke and Alex, but it didn't matter to the bond you had with them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Reggie’s picking us up.” You waved at the seventeen-year-old teenager cupping his cheek in one hand.

Unable to stay seated Luke rushed to tug you into an abrupt hug before just as quickly letting you go. Cheeks dusted pink Luke’s lips parted to form the words that could make one of his dreams come true.

"Would you…" Luke trailed off, feeling the confidence falter at the hopeful look in your pretty eyes, "Tell Alex that he still has that movie?"

The hope in your chest fluttered before it shuddered once more as Luke retreated from asking his question. With a nod, your fingers opened the door to walk down the streets to own home.

With one last wave Luke watched as you disappeared behind the trees in his front yard with the promise he’d ask her out tomorrow.

That chance wouldn’t happen.

That hopeful night in 1994 was the last night Y/N Mercer was seen. The night that it all started to fall apart in Sunset Curve’s lives.

The sword was thrust in the air as victorious cheers sounded over the hillside filled with the war's casualties. Chest heaving from the fight she had won against one of the Boggles in the White Witch's army. Your eyes scoured the battlefield for your friends you had made in the short time you had been in Narnia.

Across a great distance, you found Peter already beaming across at you as the adrenaline of winning overtook you. The happiness wavered when you saw the prone body of Edmund in the grass.

“No!” You shouted racing in the armour to the three remaining Pevensie children gathering around the youngest male sibling. The breath leaving Edmund’s body in the presence of his siblings he had made up with.

Let’s go back a few weeks to when your most significant issue had been the feelings for Luke Patterson. To when your decisions didn't include making battle plans with your new friends and avenging the death of Aslan; the talking lion.

Moments after leaving Luke’s place.

There was something about the night that soothed you from the disappointment in your body as being let down. Alex had been telling you for so long that Luke had feelings for you, but every-time you believed him it didn’t happen.

Once more, you had left the Patterson home with knowing if Luke liked you or not. Continuing to walk, you halted at hearing something. Soft music so unlike what you heard blasting from Alex's room or the gigs you attended to support the band. It was reminiscent of the music box that used to put you to sleep as a child.

"Hello?" You asked, shifting the beanie that slid on down your forehead a little. Your eyes peering around the silent streets.

The music grew louder as it entranced you into following the sound to a dilapidated building situated near older stores. So taken by the music you didn’t question why the door to the store was unlocked nor how a golden light shined from one of the antique wooden furniture.

“Come along.” A voice whispered from inside the imposing wardrobe.

Your fingers shook as you slowly pulled the door open with a creak that blasted around the darkroom. The first thing you noticed was the old fur coats hanging in the small wardrobe. The door closed behind you with a click, the golden glow dying as any suggestion she had been in the store disappeared.

The breath caught in your throat as the temperature dropped and somehow you found snow inside and trees. The crunch of snow beneath your boots surprising you but not as much as your hands pushed the branches away. Vision no longer obstructed you discovered a new world of winter and sunlight.

Standing not too far away you found four bodies of varying height staring around in wonder just as you had. The group turned on their heels at the sound of your boots crunching the snow.

The tallest of the group had honey blonde hair neatly cut and styled off his pale forehead revealing a startling pair of blue eyes. He was at least six feet tall as your estimation. His own widened at the sight of you before you took in the three other people with him—an older brunette girl standing over a younger brunette female. Set a small distance away was a young teenage boy appearing standoffish.

“I don’t suppose that is another one of your friends, Lucy?" The teen asked glancing down at the youngest of the quartet.

"No, but Peter maybe she's friends with Mr. Tumnus!" The little girl exclaimed already making her way to you when the other girl stopped her.

The next thing you noticed was their odd choice in clothing, the older boy Peter wore a light grey button-down with his dark slacks held up by suspenders. Not a single piece of clothing you recognized on people in your life.

“Lucy, she’s a stranger in a strange place.”

“This is Narnia.” Lucy stressed pouting, “Susan, it’s not polite.”

Susan's hand loosened at the reminder of manners, but with that, Susan pushed her little sister behind her. Peter stepped in front of his family to walk over to you.

"Hello, are you from around here?" Peter asked, coming closer, "I'm Peter Pevensie. This is my younger sisters Lucy and Susan. The boy over there is my little brother Edmund.”

The scowl on Edmund’s face twister further, “I’m not your little brother! I’m thirteen. Lucy’s the baby!”

“Edmund!” Susan admonished with a furrowed brow before stepping up with Peter, "What is this place?"

"Look, lady. I was walking home from my friend's place and heard this music. It's a little foggy, but I followed into an antique store." You spoke glancing at the winter wonderland that made you question if you had taken drugs.

“You’re American!” Lucy gasped rushing closer, “Why did you come to England? It’s it safer from the war in America?”

You stepped back in confusion, “I’m Y/N. War? In England? When did that happen?”

All four of the Pevensie’s stumbled back in shock at hearing that someone of your age being unaware. Susan finally took the time to take in your appearance a stark contrast to the modest, loose red and green tartan knee-length skirt. Instead, you wore a mid-thigh red plaid skirt over sheer black tights, but the most scandalous part of your outfit for Susan was your high neck black top that revealed your midriff.

“Are you daft?” Edmund questioned, stepping closer, his dark eyes pinning his angst on you, "We got evacuated from London because of it!”

Your eyebrows raised in response to the very posh accent berating you even as he was shoved back by Peter.

“You really haven’t heard about it?” Susan asked, confusing you further, but slowly it came together in your mind.

As a Mercer, you had expectations placed upon your shoulders to keep your family’s reputation in place. One of the expectations was academic excellence for your parents to boast about among their friends. To get them off your back, you studied hard with Alex in order to get away with the way you dressed and Alex being in a rock band.

Your eyes scanned the individuals' outfits before you while calculating the years London, England, was evacuated by war. A faint memory of sitting in your history class sparked on the action to evacuate mostly children. Operation Pied Piper. World War II.

"Can we go to Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy inquired, bringing her older siblings' attention to her shivering in the cool air.

“But we can’t go hiking in the snow dressed like this! Let alone Y/N in her clothing.” Susan protested also rubbing her cold arms. Peter simply strode back into the wardrobe, grabbing an armful of the coats still hanging in there.

“No, but I’m sure the professor won’t mind us using these.” Peter spoke, handing out a coat first to his siblings before turning to face you with a smile, "Would like you to join us?"

Your eyes turned to the tree hiding the door of the wardrobe to the place you knew. To return to the Mercer household where it felt stifling under the watchful eye of your parents. To a house that judged you for your dreams that went further than your parents' plans. To a boy that threatened to cradle your heart or shattered it to pieces with only a few words.

"I'd love to join you." You spoke sealing your fate by grasping a coat, but Peter stepped around to help you put it on.

The feel of his hands pushing the collar further rose a dust pink blush on your cheeks at the care he displayed. His blue gaze held firmly with yours before he shook it off with a throat cleared.

“Anyway Susan, if you think about it logically, we’re not even taking them out of the wardrobe.” Peter finished shoving the very last coat to Edmund to draw out the young boy’s discomfort.

"But that's a girl's coat!" Edmund whined offended at the fur pushed into his torso. His offended feeling rising at Peter's confirmation that he knew that too.

A cheeky smile expanded at the interaction that reminded you of Christmas mornings with Alex on who got to open the first gift. The sibling fighting that was never really as vicious as they felt like at the moment.

“To Mr. Tumnus’!” Lucy exclaimed skipping ahead of the group with Edmund trailing behind.

The Mercer home, 1994

Luke woke up with a feeling that last night had been his last chance to admit his feelings for his best friend’s sister. It felt like something had drastically changed from the previous smile he saw from you before you turned that corner. He made himself a promise he wouldn't break to shout his love from the rooftops just for you.

He couldn't wait for Reggie to pick him up, so he quickly grabbed his backpack to race out the front door. His plate barely in the sink before he was racing down the streets to Alex and your place. The grin of excitement faltered at the sight of a police car parked at the Mercer house's curb.

Mrs. Mercer sobbing in her husband's neck as a forlorn man, held his hat in his hands as he continued speaking. Luke's world lost colour for a split second before he found the blonde drummer collapsed on his knees, clutching his hair in his hands.

Then the colour leeched from Luke’s life as the once thought impossible happened.

"Alex, what's going on?"

“You!" Mrs. Mercer shouted, hearing the voice of the teenager that had taken something from the woman, "What did you do to her!”

Luke stumbled back at the heated glare from the mess of a woman so unlike the posh made-up woman. Alex was quick to push by his parents to stand shakily next to his best friend with splotchy red skin and swollen eyes.

"Luke didn't do anything! I saw her on the way home when I went to dropped that movie off at Luke's place." Alex smoothly lied to his parents saving Luke the exhaustion of a police station, and it would be the one lie that would go to their graves with them.

“My baby.” Mrs. Mercer screamed hands digging into the perfectly mowed green grass uncaring of the stains on her once immaculate elegant pearl satin slacks.

Turning robotic Alex ushered Luke down the street to the Wilson home they had turned into the band centre. Luke followed like a puppy into the open garage where Alex promptly collapsed into a fit of sobs and heavy breathing.

"She's gone." Alex cried, leaning into the sudden body hugging him with soft whispers in his ear, "Luke, Y/N didn't come home last night. None of her friends have seen her. My little sister’s missing!”

And just like that the world no longer made sense to the seventeen-year-old guitarist. The next year dragged by with running away from home. When Luke wasn’t writing music or sleeping in the studio, he was on the streets.

Clutching his favourite picture of you as he walked the streets asking if anyone had seen you while avoiding his own missing person’s poster.

Cair Paravel, Narnia

The sun rose over the land you had come to love and protect for as long as you could remember. Sometimes you hoped you’d see Aslan in the distance, but he had been gone ever since the coronation. The feeling of missing him shifted to something, no someone else you missed. It felt like a dream, and when the dream started to become clear, a hand brushed against your hip.

"Hello, darling," Peter spoke brushing a kiss on your cheek before his silky hair shifted on your skin to rest atop your own head.

A soft smile overcoming your features as his ring clinked against your own and you turned in your private chambers to stare up at him. Your hand brushing the stubble that had grown. Your eyes taking in his tanned skin from riding in the sun. For a second you swore his blue eyes flickered to hazel green.

Sometimes when you slept, you dreamt of a time where everything was different from what you knew here. Of a time when your heart fluttered for a man with hazel green eyes and a curtain of messy dark brunette hair.

“Are you alright?” Peter questioned leaning back to scan your features. It wasn't often, but he was sure you wandered off in mind.

“I’m feeling perfect.” You replied turning to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “I’m standing the arms of my King-“

“You looked beautiful tonight.” For a second, your personal bed-chamber melted away into a large room with poorly made decorations and lines on the floor of different colours. Instead of standing in Peter's arms, you found yourself moving to the music in another's arms. The same faceless person in your dreams.

"Maybe it's time we give Narnia an heir." With Peter's words, the world returned to the way it had left a bitter taste in your mouth, "What do you think of the name Luke?"

The name choked you with emotion.

Alex jogged into his sister's room, huddled over her white desk reciting information of her exam the next morning. His blue eyes lit up as he hurried to your side.

"What do you want, Alex?" You sighed turning to look at your brother with disinterest only wanting to ace this test. That way, your parents could rub in in their friends face on beating Sarah with the highest grade.

“I joined the band.” Alex beamed bringing your attention fully on him in surprise, “I’m tired of pretending to like classical music and wearing a suit that chokes me. I’m tired of having to play dress up in fancy clothes when what I want is that big pink sweater from that thrift shop. I’m tired of looking like they think a Mercer should look like. I wanna look like Alex, like myself.”

Your lips turned up at the passion ignited in Alex at the mention of three friends that had quickly become family. In welcoming Alex, they had welcomed you into the group as well. Luke being the closest friend you had that didn't care what you wore or what you said.

"You should come. You've never stayed to listen to them rehearse. Luke would love it if you came." Alex teased poking your side in the pale pink silk blouse and white knee-length skirt.

You were tired of pretending as well. You wanted to be the girl wearing a band shirt and ripped jeans. You want to wear what you wanted instead of what your parents expected. Instead of voicing a reply, you moved to the walk-in closet of designer clothing. At the very back hidden from sight was your chosen attire. In seconds you changed into one of Alex’s old band shirts tied in the back for a cropped shirt and your favourite pants.

A swipe of rebellious red lipstick to finish the look you followed Alex to his room with the large tree. You had no clue if the feeling of butterflies was from rebelling against your parents or seeing the teenage boy slowly stealing your heart.

“Not Luke.” You whispered to the man you had matured from an angsty sixteen-year-old to a twenty-five-year-old.

“Lucy may think we named him after her.” Peter joked retreating as the door to the chambers was knocked on, “I believe we owe Edmund a birthday feast.”

“I’d rather not live another year of his complaining.” You moaned lifting the skirt of your long midnight blue dress to exit the room. All thoughts of a former life disappearing like smoke once more.

King Peter and Queen Y/N took their time to the dining hall where the rest of their family was patiently waiting. Susan and Lucy sharing a smile at the topic that had been flooding the kingdom since the royal wedding two years ago. Narnia was wondering when High King Peter and his Queen would proudly show off their firstborn.

"About time. I thought we'd enter another hundred years before you two came." Edmund spoke from his chair, but instead of the same tone as the boy that first entered Narnia, it was teasing.

"Shove off and eat your cake." Peter laughed, keeping his hand encased in yours. All of them at ease with the only worry on the conflict that threatened the royals from the Ettinsmoor nation.

Part Two

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[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...10b

Okay, so this ‘epilogue’ became... a monster. I decided to split chapter 10 into two parts because it was already so big, and, uh, yeah, now I’m splitting 10b into three parts. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ENABLE ME, PEOPLE. Your lovely comments, your kind reblogs and support turned this from what was supposed to be no more than 4 chapters into 90 000 word ramble.

*ahem*

So part 10b is Dulcy POV, 10c is chaotic everyone POV, and then there will be a bonus part for someone who didn’t get to join Dulcy and Dav’s little family.

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a

Epilogue; Dulcy

“We’ll be back later, dad!” Corin exclaims from where he’s standing next to Din in the doorway, eager to call Davarax that at every occasion he can find.

Davarax nods and gives a light wave to the two teenagers about to step out of the house they have rented on this obscure, little planet and head into the nearby town. (Having picked up a bit of Motti credits makes things a lot easier.) “Duly noted, son.”

The slight smile on his face tells Dulsissia that Davarax is well aware of Corin’s need to constantly reaffirm their new relationship and indulges him with never-ending patience. But what she also notes is how Din hesitates half a second while Corin turns to leave and she sees there is hurt in his dark eyes as they linger on Davarax.

That evening, while Barthor wraps up his conversation with his father via the holo-communicator, Davarax holds Raga back until the boy is done and the line is free for her to call her parents.

Dulsissia glances after Barthor shuffling back towards their house, helmet held low and shoulders slumped. Just like during previous calls, his parents show close to no interest in their son and he is equally disappointed every time. “Dav?”

Davarax turns his attention away from Raga and over to Dulsissia. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you adopt the others too? Like you did with Corin?” Her heart breaks every time she sees these children with sadness in their eyes and Davarax is the one who always brings smiles to their faces.

Sighing, Davarax leans against the door frame. “It’s not that easy…”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Paz and Raga have their families. The Saxons are… unique, but they love her. And Dez, well, I hope that maybe he’ll come to his senses.” Davarax looks over at Barthor’s retreating shape as well. “Barthor… I might have to talk to him about it.”

Dulsissia frowns as he doesn’t mention the most obvious one of all; “What about Din?”

“Din…” Davarax looks down at the floor. He looks guilty. “I messed that up. Big time.”

“He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” Dulsissia declares. “He worships you.”

“Maybe.” Davarax replies, not sounding convinced. “But I don’t deserve his forgiveness. And after what he’s been through, I think Din needs to be allowed to hold on to his roots before another adult tries to pressure their identity on him.”

What that boy needs is a father, Dulsissia thinks, but before she can voice her thoughts she’s distracted by someone shouting. Looking over, she sees Raga’s mother in the holo-projector screaming at someone out of sight before turning back to focus on her daughter again.

“What was that, Raga? You said something about how many push ups? You’re up to what now?”

“Fifty-”

“PUT THAT DOWN!” Raga’s mother bellows to her right and then makes a frustrated grunt and reaches out to grab someone. “Here. Talk to your brother. I have to murder your other two brothers for a bit.” She steps away and a smaller Mandalorian with a green helmet takes her place.

“Raga. Still ugly I see. You really should have kept the helmet on.”

“Sioben. Still a moron, I hear. I was kind of hoping dad had followed through on his threat to dropkick you into space.” Raga counters. “Paz taught me some new tricks. I’m going to kick your ass when I see you again.”

Sioben shakes his head. “I don’t know why he puts up with you. He could have anyone he wants, he’s a huge badass ‘and’ a Vizla. I can’t think of a single reason why he lets you stick around.”

“Don’t hurt your brain trying to think.” Raga snarls.

“At least I have a brain. Unlike you.” Sioben fires back.

A hand appears and smacks into Sioben’s helmet and he goes toppling out of sight and Raga’s mother appears again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m a bit busy here. Say hi to Davarax from me. Be careful out there, Raga. Byebye.” The woman’s holo-image dissolves and she’s gone.

When Raga walks out of the room, Dulsissia reaches out and touches her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” Raga asks with a huge grin. “Didn’t you hear that? She didn’t yell at me once!”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax with a look of slight belief while the girl walks away, humming happily and he can only offer a weak shrug in return.

-

And on the subject of Paz and Raga...

While there are still sides to the Mandalorian culture that are still a mystery to her, Dulsissia remembers more than enough about what it was like to be a human a teenager to see what is happening there.

The two have been drawn together as friends since they were small children, as far as Dulsissia understands. They always gravitate towards each other. If you see one, odds are good that the other is nearby or about to appear. And Dulsissia feels both compassion and amusement as she sees the growing awkwardness as a different kind of attraction between them starts to enter the picture.

Dulsissia tries to hide her laughter when she sees Raga pretending to need a water break but only so she can let her gaze roam all over Paz as he continues his intense training next to her. Raga has always been climbing him like a jungle gym, but these days it brings a flush to her cheeks when he holds her close or play-wrestle with her, and Raga even smiles in her sleep the times she drowses off with her head resting on his chest. It’s a shame she seems unable to voice what she feels.

This leads to the seething anger in Raga’s eyes when Paz mindlessly flirt with the local girls and basks in their attention. An anger which causes her to pick fights with Din and the others, violent fights that always ends badly for at least one of them and Davarax has to patch them up while trying to calm Raga down.

At the same time, with a stealth worthy of admiration, Paz’ gaze discretely seeks out Raga with an interest and longing he doesn’t show any of the local girls desperately trying to hold his attention. His attention trail along her curves, he flushes at glimpses of her skin and it is kind of cute how he’s only happy if Raga is happy.

Unfortunately Paz seems too insecure, which is absurd, to actually show how her how he feels.

His temper is as bad as Raga’s, though, which causes Paz to one day actually punch a hole in a wall. He flat out refuses to explain why he’d done it, even when Davarax wraps up his bleeding hand and asks in a frustrated voice what is going on with him, but Dulsissia accidentally overheard earlier when Raga agreed to go out on a date with a suitor of her own and suspects that is why.

“I’m going to help them.” Dulsissia declares one morning after Raga had managed to draw both Din and Corin into a vicious brawl the previous evening, just after Paz had gone out to meet some girl.

Davarax grunts, half-asleep on his stomach with his face partly burrowed into the pillow. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

She sends him, or his back to be more precise, a dry glance. “Are you kidding me? Those two? If someone doesn’t help them along, it’ll take yeeaars.”

Davarax snorts a laugh. “At your own peril, cyare.”

Dulsissia thinks about all her excellent work as a matchmaker back on Seswenna. That included family ranks, politics and enough credits to buy a minor planet. These are two teenagers. She’s got this.

It’s a delicate mission. First Dulsissia establishes through a little research that there is absolutely no doubt that these two feel the same and are just too emotionally constipated to do something about it, then she goes to work on them separately. Hints, questions and light nudges.

It takes a surprisingly short time for them to admit to her what she already knows, but neither is willing to make the first move.

“Why not go for it?” Dulsissia eventually asks..

“I don’t think he/she thinks of me that way…” Raga/Paz replies. Her face bright red as she half-heartedly trains defensive moves with Dulsissia one sun-soaked day. Him with quiet sadness when Dulsissia delivers some clean laundry to his room one evening.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Dulsissia teases and winks.

After that, they become a little braver. Instead of just friendly bickering, Raga and Paz both add a little intent and teasing to their interactions, and that eventually develop into outright flirting.

During training Davarax sends Dulsissia a dry look when Paz, instead of following through with his attack, merely keeps his hands against the wall, fencing in the grinning and uncharacteristically passive Raga and hovers there with a slight smirk of his own. Davarax rolls his eyes when Raga, after flipping Paz over and have him land on his back, simply straddles his stomach and pretends to hold him down with her hands on his shoulders instead of following through with her attack and Paz, also uncharacteristically passive, looks like he’s enjoying himself more than anything else.

Dulsissia regrets nothing.

-

Barthor is in heavy denial, Din wrinkles his nose and Corin is incredibly oblivious as Paz and Raga keep inching their way closer to what they both dream about having. They push things as far as they can go and then some, before one of them finally dares to cross the line...

Sitting next to each other on the stairs behind the big battle arena, Paz and Raga had decided to sneak outside the building instead of staying with the others to watch the final game. Usually they both live and breathe for such big fights, but for some reason it seemed more tempting to sneak off like this.

They sit in this dark back-alley, her shoulder bumping lightly against his upper arm, talking.

It’s silly. They see each other every day, they talk every day, and yet they struggle to look at the other right now. Words tumble a little awkwardly. Hearts thump hard.

Then there is a huge cheer from the crowd inside the arena and Paz looks over at Raga. She looks back over at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he cautiously leans towards her.

Raga’s eyes light up. Oh. But just as she lifts her chin a little to meet him, giving him an unspoken invite, Paz abruptly loses his courage and quickly withdraws to stare down at the ground again.

Raga exhales, disappointed. Suddenly her eyes flare with angry annoyance and she thumps her shoulder against his arm, and when he looks at her, she quickly leans over and presses a brief, hard kiss to his lips. After that, she’s the one to turn to stare at the ground while heat burns in her face.

Stunned, Paz stares at her. He stares for what feels like a small eternity, then he slowly reaches out his hand, touches by her jawline and eases her into facing him again. And that is when he finally has the courage to lean over, his fingers still resting on her skin, and ever so softly touches his lips to hers.

It’s a gentle, trying thing. Raga draws a shivering breath, her lips trembling a little as well but soon they move to meet his as he cautiously coaxes a response from her.

After a little while, Paz pulls back and scans her face for her response.

Raga grins.

That makes him smile as well.

-

Dulsissia is obnoxiously pleased. Declaring herself the matchmaking champion.

Davarax only regrets not stopping her when stolen kisses in secret between the two becomes public make-out sessions. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded if had taken yeeeaars before he had to see that.

But he draws the line of having to watch it in their house. Entering the living room and finding them at it again, Davarax kicks at the sofa, making them jump apart. “Tongues in separate mouths when I’m around. Not negotiable.”

Paz flushes deep red. Raga glares.

And Dulsissia wonders who she can match up next...

-

While Dulsissia’s stop on Seswenna had resulted in them having a nice amount of credits to use on their family, Davarax knows they won’t last forever and he’s too used to support his family to stop, so he takes on the occasional job. And it’s easier now than before Dulsissia came into his life.

It’s strange not be be constantly exhausted. It’s even stranger not to have nightmares any more but wake up in the mornings with a sigh of satisfaction or even a smile on his face.

His favourite jobs are the ones where Dulsissia joins him. She’s come far from the helpless beauty he’d met what feels like a lifetime ago. Now she’s a deadly beauty. And the sight of her in Mandalorian armor is the best bonus he’s ever gotten on a job.

This is an easy contract. Just head up to a damaged cargo ship floating just above the planet, pick up the shipment and bring it to the owner on the surface. It’s the rumours of pirates in the area that makes them want to hire a couple of Mandalorians.

The ship is where it’s supposed to be, there are no signs of pirates, and Davarax does the mistake of thinking this mission will go without a hitch. He and Dulsissia board the ship and walk towards the cargo hold to secure their target.

It is years of experience combined with quick reflexes that saves Davarax’ life when something drops from the ceiling in the hallway. He jolts backwards and sparks fly as something sharp slides across his breastplate. Davarax tries to lift his blaster to fire at his attacker, but a boot kicks his arm and the shot goes wide.

It becomes a wild dance of attacks launched at him, sparks flying again and again when his armor takes the brunt, and he frantically back-pedals to stay alive. A streak of yellow spins in front of him and Davarax gets his arm up just in time for the vibro blade to impale it instead of his throat. The pain rages through him and instinct makes Davarax turn to the best weapon he has in such a close encounter; a harsh kov’nyn.

His opponent collapses while he stumbles backwards and clutches his arm. The blade is still vibrating and sending waves of agony through him while tearing more of his flesh. He yanks it out, fighting back the intense urge to scream with pain, unable to respond right away despite hearing Dulsissia calling out his name in fear.

Once his eyes clears again, Davarax realizes Dulsissia is by his side and trying to make him let her look at his arm and he sees the crumpled shape on the floor.

A skinny Twi’lek youth around Raga’s age. Her skin under layers of dirt looks to be pale yellow, her clothes are rags and even unconscious she looks angry.

Well, that was unexpected.

“She’s just a kid.” Dulsissia whispers with quiet disbelief, wrapping his arm.

“I was too busy trying to keep her from cutting my throat to notice.” Davarax rumbles, twitching slightly when Dulsissia tightens the bandage. His heart softens. “I wonder what her story is...”

Her name is Zev’sonya and she’s anything but friendly. Sure, his own kids have a habit of baring their teeth every once in a while, even at him, but this one? She’s outright hostile and extremely dangerous. And while his kids’ trust in others has been severely damaged, hers is non-existent. Whatever her story might be, she’s not telling them anything beyond her being on her own.

Davarax has absolutely no idea how Dulsissia manages to persuade the girl to come with them.

It takes over a standard week to make her stop trying to kill and rob them. A lot longer for her to actually trust them, especially Davarax.

-

Zev’sonya and Raga end up in a fist-fight two minutes after the initial introduction. Paz watches her with some cautiousness but he’s not unfriendly. Barthor avoids her like the plague. Corin is terrified of her and claims she keeps stealing the blades in the house. (Dulsissia knows he’s right as she keeps retrieving them from the twi’lek’s room.)

The only one she instantly connects with is Din, who seems to share her way of communicating in as few words as possible and have no fear of her scowls.

-

They renew their rent on the house and Davarax recruits Din to help build a couple of sheds and do some repairs on it.

After a scorchingly hot day, emerging from the refresher room, Dulsissia saunters over to the big bed in their room where Davarax is reading something on his datapad. She crawls into the bed and rolls over to face him with a dramatic sigh. “Dav? Cyare?”

“Mmh?” He replies, not looking up from his datapad.

“I’m hungry…”

Davarax lowers the datapad and reaches out to run his hand gently over her hair. “What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s leftovers from dinner...”

She rarely asks him to bring her things because she knows he will stop whatever he’s doing and get it and she doesn’t want to abuse that kindness. But this is a special occasion. After he’s padded out of the room, she slides the medical scanner out of her pocket and places it on his side of the bed.

A few minutes later, Davarax comes back with two plates. “Food for my love. And I brought some sweets for dessert too. Might as well make it a proper meal when we’re dining in bed.” He hands her one of the plates with flourish.

She leans up and gives him a kiss, which he is very pleased to accept, and waits as he circles the bed to get in on his side.

Davarax frowns a little when he sees something in his way, reaches down and picks it up so he can settle in his spot again. “This yours?” He holds it out to her.

Sighing, Dulsissia fails to hold back a smile. “Look at it.”

He studies the device but the numbers on the screen doesn’t make sense to him. Davarax glances over at her again, now a little worried. “A medical scanner? You’re not sick, are you?”

She shakes her head, losing the battle against a bubbling laugh. “No. Look at it, silly.”

Davarax looks again. “I’m looking, but what am I supposed to…” Finally the information on the screen makes sense to him and what it means. His gaze snaps back at her. The plate in his other hand is completely forgotten. “Y-you’re…? Are you…?”

Taking a bite of her food, Dulsissia nods and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I’m pregnant.” It’s almost funny how happy she is with this fact. After Corin was born, the mere thought of having another baby offended Dulsissia after she had come to realize that was the only reason why Macero wanted her. But that was in the past. Things are so very different now.

Davarax nearly drops his plate, only his quick reflexes prevents him from spilling it all over the bed. He cautiously, but as quickly as possible, places his plate on the night-stand so he can hold on to the medical scanner with both hands, reading the information once again. “You… You’re sure?”

“You’re looking at the evidence, mister. I scanned ten minutes ago.” She takes another bite, endlessly amused by the whirlwind of emotions visibly rushing through him. He keeps wobbling back and forth between intense happiness, paralysing fear and blind excitement. It is so painfully sweet to see how much he wants this. “Breathe, baby.” Dulsissia advices.

Davarax gulps down some air, then puts the scanner aside and turns all of his focus on her. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? What do I do?”

Laughing a little, even more charmed by him being so uncharacteristically clumsy and helpless, Dulsissia glances over at him. “I thought Mandalorians were experts on children. They didn’t teach you about how this is going to work?”

Davarax hesitates and then he reaches out and touches her hand. “Sort of, but all I care about is what you need me to do. Weapons and flowers, remember?”

Dulsissia feels the usual wave of warmth and adoration when Davarax is his sweet self and she curls her fingers around his. “I remember. And we’ll work this out as well.”

That seems to reassure him and his shoulders relaxes a little. Enough so that she lets go of his hand and goes back to eating. Maybe it is just knowing she’s pregnant again that makes her so hungry, but at least it is a very valid excuse to indulge.

Davarax is silent. Too silent.

After a while, Dulsissia has to laugh again as she realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring at her stomach. “There is nothing noticeable going on there quite yet. It’s too early. You’re going to have to be patient for a while before things get exciting for you.”

Davarax gives a tiny shake of his head. “This is already one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.” He looks like he’s about to say something more but loses courage.

“What?” Dulsissia asks, taking another bite of her food.

“Can I…?” He lifts his hand a little in a mute request.

Stars above, she loves this man more than she thought was possible. Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing much to feel right now, like I said, but… if you want to, go ahead.”

Davarax inches closer, reaches out further and cautiously places his hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. His hand is warm and so very careful and lingers there for a while. “Hey, you…” Davarax eventually says in a quiet voice, a little strained with emotion. “Welcome to the family.”

Dulsissia doesn’t make a sound as the first tears trail from her eyes, overwhelmed by how right this feels, how much she loves him and their unborn child and their beautiful family. This time, she knows, this time everything will be perfect.

-

When Dulsissia tells him, Corin is incredibly excited to become a big brother. Paz declares he’s mighty pleased their clan is growing, sounding like the adult he now looks like despite still not having enough years on his back to deserve that title in Dulsissia’s eyes, and the other Mandalorian youngsters eagerly agree with him. Davarax looks a little awkward when they start talking about how they can create a Covert of their own at the pace their clan is growing.

Half an eternity later, when the evening comes where she feels the first barely noticeable change, Dulsissia calls Davarax over and slides his hand over her stomach. She feels him shiver and he looks at her with breathless awe. She has to laugh and then kisses that look off his face.

A little over six standard weeks after that, Davarax feels the first curving before she notices herself, on a sleepy morning when he, as usual, runs his hand over her stomach.

Corin and the other boys hover near her with innocent curiosity and watch the development with bright fascination, while Raga and Zev’sonya stay a little more in the back and observe with cautious interest.

When Dulsissia really starts showing, that is the point where Davarax’ self-control starts slipping. He has tried his hardest to act normal, yet now he becomes downright clingy. Others might have gotten a bit annoyed with the man’s behaviour, but Dulsissia knows the sadness of going through this with someone who doesn’t care, who can’t even bother to be there, so she happily suffers through his tactile presence.

Dulsissia even has to hide tears one evening when he inches close, runs his hand over her stomach yet again and softly hums a Mandalorian lullaby to their restless child.

Then she gets even bigger and Dulsissia realizes she’d forgotten this part. She gets grouchy, her feet aches, her back aches, everything aches, she has to pee all the time, she can barely get up if she does the mistake of sitting down, she can’t sleep like she wants to, and Dulsissia decides the thought of delivering the child isn’t all that bad if she can just get back to normal, please!

It is all worth it when the time comes after seven hours of hard work and sweet, sweet pain killers, and Dulsissia gets to meet her daughter as she’s placed in her arms.

She is absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way and so very, very loved!

Looking up at Davarax by her side, Dulsissia is both crying and laughing at once. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Davarax, pale as a sheet, nods with a look of awe on his face.

Allowing herself another moment of holding their child, admiring her, kissing her, Dulsissia makes herself look up at Davarax again. “You want to hold her?”

To her surprise, he hesitates and looks like he’s about to take a step away. Catching himself, Davarax remains where he is and tries to remember how to speak. “I… Are you sure?”

Laughing a little, Dulsissia is far too exhausted to untangle the mystery of his mind at the moment. “Of course I’m sure. She’s your daughter too.”

“It’s just…” Davarax reaches out a cautious hand only to withdraw it before he can actually touch the wailing baby. “I don’t know how. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her. I-I’ve never held a baby before. She’s so tiny, Dulcy.”

“She’s tougher than you think.” Dulsissia replies, then turns a little to make it easier for him to pick up the baby. “Support her head, careful with the neck, like that, yeah… Perfect.” She leans back, exhausted and strangely enough a bit hungry, but for the time being she is satisfied to just take in the sight of her husband and their child connecting.

“Hello, ik’aad.” Davarax looks nervous, awkward and absolutely devastated by the intense adoration he feels for the still screaming bundle in his arms. The baby really do look tiny in his embrace, fragile even, but that doesn’t prevent her from aimlessly raising her tiny fist in what looks to be a threat.

Mandokarla from the birth.

Dulsissia sees how tears well up in Davarax’ eyes and he leans down to place a feather-light kiss on the baby’s head.

-

Corin is staring wide-eyed at the baby and eagerly reaches out when his mother eases her over into his arms.

“Say hello to your new sister.” Dulsissia says in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake the sleeping baby.

Din hovers over Corin’s right shoulder and reaches out to ever so gently run his fingers over the dark tufts of hair on her head. “She’s cute.”

“So tiny…” Paz observes, hovering over Corin’s left shoulder, sounding a bit worried.

“She’ll get bigger, idiot.” Barthor mutters, tilting his helmet as he studies the baby too.

“Are… are you okay?” Raga asks Dulsissia while the boys block the view to the new arrival.

Smiling, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around Raga’s when she takes it, Dulsissia gives her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine, baby. Corin gave me a lot more trouble than this one.”

Corin blinks and looks up to focus on her for a moment. “I did?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yeah, you were not inclined to come out to greet the world. It took over two days to persuade you.”

“Two days?” Raga blurts out, with no small amount of horror.

“It sounds worse than it was.” Dulsissia reassures her. “Without the pain meds I’m sure it would have been a nightmare, but with them, it’s mostly just uncomfortable and boring.”

“Two days and you still decided to have another child?” Davarax asks from where he is hovering in the background.

“Well, yeah.” Dulsissia shrugs. The amount of joy her son has given her was well worth it. And without him she would never have broken free from her golden cage, so, no, she had not hesitated to do it all over again. Her daughter is already worth it too. “Zev. Baby. Come say hello. Don’t just hide over there.” She waves the Twi’lek over and fails to see everyone there stare at her with the kind of awe saved for the most impressive of Mandalorian warriors.

They call the baby Nemi.

[midnighttmarauder]

Canis Major

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Summary: Reader is the only girl in school who seems to be able to keep up with Sirius’ flirting. When Sirius finds her stargazing one night, they find out that they have more in common than just their charm.

Warnings: none

***

Sirius didn’t know much about you. You were a mystery, not only to him, but to everyone at Hogwarts. All he knew was that you were a Slytherin, beyond beautiful, and witty enough to keep up with his flirty banter. It seemed as if every student knew your name and went out of their way to greet you in the halls. You were edgy, badass, and yet they all respected you. Sirius had once heard a third year gloating to his friends that you had smiled at him in the library.

You liked Sirius, even if you didn’t know much about him either. Your friends were notorious gossips, and they liked to share the rumours that milled about the school. Some of them were downright ridiculous, like the time that Sirius had allegedly fought off a grindylow in the Black Lake during a midnight swim. Others were more believable, like his affinity for peanut butter dog treats (though he adamantly denied it). Even though you often saw his brother Regulus around your common room, he never engaged in the gossip. In fact, unlike Sirius, he didn’t say much at all.

Sirius was a serial flirt. He flirted with every girl in your year, and sometimes it wasn’t even on purpose. He just couldn’t help being “naturally charming and irresistible”, as he had once told you. You didn’t mind the flirty banter. It was fun and kept you on your toes. And although you would never admit it, your stomach gave a strange flutter every time he looked your way.

“Today must be my lucky day,” Sirius said as he slid into the seat beside you.

“And why is that?” you asked.

“Because the only thing that could make me actually like this class is an empty seat beside the most beautiful girl in our year,” he replied, slinging his arm over the back of your chair.

“Binns is rather boring. Not to mention his voice is torture to listen to. But yours, I could listen to all day,” you said. The corner of Sirius’ lip lifted into a smirk as he ran his tongue across his teeth. He leaned in closer, his nose inches from your own, and you suddenly found it hard to think about anything but how badly you wanted to close the distance between you.

“Could you, love?” he muttered lowly. You willed yourself not to sound as breathless as you felt.

“Mhm. Your voice is smooth, like treacle. You don’t drone on like Binns. You actually speak with feeling. I bet that you could convince anyone to do anything because you sound so passionate all the time. And I’m sure your voice is wonderful in the morning,” you replied. Sirius’ pupils dilated as his gaze darted to your lips.

“Why don’t you find out?” he asked.

“You wish, Black,” you said, forcing yourself to pull away from his warmth with a wicked smile. Sirius laughed and dropped his head, shaking it slightly before he turned to face the front of the classroom. Professor Binns had floated to the chalkboard and was writing a series of dates.

“Maybe I do,” he whispered. You were just thinking of a witty comeback when Professor Binns began droning about the goblin wars.

***

The cool grass beneath you tickled your neck as you peered up at the starry sky. It was a warm night, warmer than it had been in a long time. An occasional breeze ruffled the trees in the Forbidden Forest. You sighed and crossed your ankles, allowing the sound to push away the troubles of the day. The Gryffindor quidditch team was practicing late that night, and you smiled smugly to yourself at the thought that it was probably because they had lost to Slytherin the week before. You could hear them faintly in the distance, but it was oddly soothing to know that you weren’t completely alone.

You never cared how much time you spent under the stars. There were nights that you would lie on the grass until the sun began to rise and the stars would disappear. On other nights, you would only stay until your eyelids drooped. But that night, you didn’t feel tired. Not when the thought of Sirius’ ridiculously handsome face so close to yours made your heart jump every time it crossed your mind.

A shooting star flew across the night sky as footsteps sounded in the grass behind you. You barely noticed them as your eyes traced the star, stopping only when it disappeared in the light of the moon.

“Did you see that?” Sirius asked. You jumped and pushed yourself up on your elbows, twisting your neck to look up at him.

“It’s rude to sneak up on people,” you replied. Sirius shot you an apologetic smile.

“I thought you’d have heard me. Or at least the team heading back inside. They’re a rowdy bunch,” he said as he jutted his chin at his teammates making their way back to the castle. You shrugged and lay back again, crossing your arms behind your head.

“Guess I was lost in thought,” you replied. Sirius, you supposed, took that as an invitation and lay beside you, his arm brushing against yours. He smelled like pine and the night air, and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “To answer your question, I did see the shooting star. Second one tonight.”

“Really? Must have missed the other one,” Sirius said.

“You were flying around at practice. I wouldn’t expect you to have seen it, or else you’d be a rubbish beater who keeps his eyes on the sky instead of on the bludgers,” you teased.

“Oh, so you’re keeping track of my whereabouts now, are you?” Sirius asked. A flare of heat shot into your face.

“Maybe. But how did you know I was out here? Keeping track of mine too?” you replied.

“’Course I am. Gotta keep my eye on the prize,” he said.

“I think you’re keeping your eye on the wrong prize. If I recall correctly, you were nearly hit by a stray bludger last week. One that you were supposed to beat away,” you said.

“To be fair, I was distracted by someone in the Slytherin stands. She was just so beautiful that I lost my focus. Maybe you know her. She’s got Y/H/C hair, she’s around your height, absolutely gorgeous. We have history of magic together. I’ve heard rumours that she likes to stargaze too,” Sirius replied. You laughed and rolled your eyes, though you knew he couldn’t see your face.

“I think I know her,” you muttered.

“I like to stargaze too, y’know. Cliché because my name comes from a constellation, I know, but I’ve always enjoyed it,” Sirius said.

“You’re not just saying that to try to impress me, are you?” you asked.

“You really think that was me trying to impress you? Oh love, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Sirius replied.

“Cocky git,” you muttered.

“I believe it’s called confidence,” Sirius retorted. You both laughed, the sound washing over you as a cool breeze raised goosebumps on your arms. As the moon travelled across the sky, the night grew colder, and you found yourself leaning into Sirius’ warmth. He didn’t seem to notice as you pressed your arm against his, the heat from his body seeping into your skin. Or if he noticed, he didn’t seem to mind.

“I try to come out here as much as I can while we’re at school. I live in London, so I barely get to see the stars back home. There are too many lights. But up here, I feel like I can see right into space. It puts things into perspective, y’know? When you think about it, your problems seem so small compared to this big world we live in. It’s stupid, but the stars are one of the only things that really make me feel safe,” you said. Sirius rolled onto his side to look at you and braced himself on his elbow.

“It’s not stupid. It’s quite beautiful, actually,” Sirius muttered. You felt his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“You think so?” you asked. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, so you stared down at the scuffed toes of your shoes as you swung your ankles side to side.

“Yeah. I mean, I never thought about it that way. I can’t see the stars from my parent’s place either, but I never really cared. I guess I’ve been taking them for granted all these years,” he replied.

“Well, I’m glad I could share some of my endless wisdom,” you teased.

“You must know where all of the constellations are. Where’s mine?” Sirius asked.

“I’m disappointed that you don’t know that. Guess,” you replied.

“Fine,” Sirius said. He turned away to lie flat on his back and took a moment to observe the sky. You couldn’t help but watch him, the stars reflected in his eyes making the grey come alive. “Aha, there.” Sirius pointed at a star just below the moon.

“Nope,” you said, knocking his arm away and pointing at the Canis Major constellation. “See, that’s Canis Major over there and Sirius is right at the top. It’s the brightest star in the whole sky. But I can see why you thought that other one was Sirius. It is pretty bright, isn’t it?”

But when you rolled your head across the grass to look over at Sirius, he wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at you. There was something soft in his gaze that you had never seen before.

“What?” you whispered.

“All of these stars, yet you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius muttered.

“Oh, please, I know you’ve got better lines than that. You’re just being cheesy,” you said.

“I’m not. It’s the truth. I know we flirt all the time, and it’s not supposed to mean anything, but I mean it. I’ve meant all of it,” Sirius replied.

“Sirius-” You stopped as he sat up, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his elbows on his legs.

“I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. You’re special,” he said. You moved to sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against yours as you reached to entwine your fingers with his.

“You’re special to me too,” you muttered.

“You’re not just saying that to try to impress me, are you?” he asked. Your laugh echoed into the night.

“Oh love, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

[lovecinnatwist]

Please tell me that Dick leaves Kara, that he and Jason get happily together.

It feels like it’s been 100 years but here's another chapter! 

The Cost of Freedom Chapter III

Warnings: Includes Omegaverse, Cheating and Angst

She didn't show up. 

Even after she told him she would, she still didn't show up. 

Dick's body aches and hurts in a way that makes his insides twist. His thighs are damp and sticky with sweat and slick, the emptiness between his legs echoes in his chest. The first thing he feels after bitter disappointment is rage. 

She lied to him. 

He can't stand being in the nest for another moment. It smells too much like Kara, her sunny fragrance clings to his skin like an absent lover. It makes him sick. In his fury, he rips the entire thing apart. He pulls everything that's her's out of the nest. The blankets, the pillows, the fabrics- he wants none of it. 

He tears everything of hers out with a stinging sense of justice. He flings it all as far away as he can. He can't stand to look at a single reminder of the alpha. 

His frustration doesn't ease, even after he gets rid of every trace of her from the nest. Dick's glad for the plastic cover over the mattress. Like this, he doesn't have to worry about her scent sticking to it. It satisfies him but only for a moment. Soon his eyes snap to the closet.

Rage turns out to be an excellent motivator. 

He feels intense pleasure in ridding the bedroom of everything that's hers. Things she's bought him, her clothing, her scent. He pushes it all out into the hall. Then with a brush and bucket, scrubs the place down. He does the window sills, the grout, every place where she could possibly live. It helps, but barely. There are traces of her everywhere.

It takes him the entire day to chase her out. He moves the bed from the centre of the room to up against the wall. It's a safe position and this way he can sleep with his face to the door. It leaves a big space in the middle of the room. One that he readily knows how to fill.

Once he makes up his mind, he starts moving Kal's things into the master bedroom. The crib is the first thing he gets. He arranges it right next to the bed, where he can readily get to it during the night. Then, he gets the baby's clothing and places it in the dresser where Kara's once were. It works out perfectly. Then from there, it's easy to drag in the rocking chair and make his den cosier. 

He dumps his alpha's belongings in the nursery. Unable to will himself to at least fold her clothing or put them into the dresser. She doesn't deserve his aid or his kindness. In fact, a voice inside his head whispers that he should burn it all. 

He narrows his eyes and for a moment, considers it. 

'You’ll eat those words, and it won’t be me who feeds them to you.'

Jason's voice rings in his ears and cuts through the haze of rage.

Jason.

He thinks of the alpha for the first time in days. Jason had never been hesitant. Not with him or their relationship. With a cocky, confident smile, the other alpha made him feel special. To him, Dick's something irreplaceable. A treasure to be cherished and cared for with the utmost diligence. During the entirety of their affair, Jason never stood him up, never lied to him, and never disappointed him. 

Jason loved him. 

Dick's heart flutters at the thought. 

Love.

Unlike Kara, Jason didn't need him. The alpha saw him and chose him. That fact alone fills him with awe. Butterflies flutter in his stomach.

" I fucked up. "

The sudden urge to see Jason strikes him like lightning. He needs to apologize. He needs to tell Jason that he had been right about everything. He wants to run out of the apartment and find the alpha immediately. It wouldn't be hard. He would probably be at Big Al's, or maybe down at the Red Hood Motorcycle club. 

His keys are on the kitchen table, he could grab them, get on his bike then ride out and never look back. He bites his lip and starts towards the kitchen. Nothing but him and Jason on the open road. Kicking ass and taking names just like in the good old days. 

His keys are just insight when something makes him lose his footing. Dick curses as he stumbles to catch himself. He grips the wall, looking around for whatever almost made him twist his ankle.

All he finds is one of Kal's baby blue socks. He reaches down to pick it up. It must have fallen off when Lois came to pick him up a few days ago. He chuckles. They were almost too small for him now. Soon it would be time to get new ones.

Something wet rolls down his cheek. 

Dick reaches up, his fingertips come back damp. He lets out a shaky breath that becomes a sob. 

Kal.

Like a cup ready to overflow, one tear breaks the damn. There's no way to stop himself. The sudden well of emotions makes him shake. He picks up the soft smell of milk and baby powder from the small scrap of fabric. It makes his heart clench.

He never thought that he would become a parent. Kids weren't a thing in a freescape. There's found family of course, but settling down? Absolutely unheard of. Even in his daydreams, he never let himself want it. Now that he's had it though. He doesn't ever want to let it go.

Jason might love him in all the ways he wants, but Kal loves him in ways he never knew he needs. 

Hot tears fall with fervency, the sting of saltwater makes his eyesight blurry. It never did matter if Kara came or not did it? After all, no matter how their relationship fell apart, he would always stay.  

He would never leave.

It's that thought that teeters the last of his composure. He cracks. Fat tears spill down his face until he can taste them in his mouth. He can't keep himself from weeping. 

He cries for his baby, his sweet Kal who he never wants to be apart from. He cries for the loveless relationship he's caught in and will never leave. He cries until every vulnerable part of him is bare, and there's nothing left but soundless screams. 

Then he screams at who he's become, who he's let himself be. He hates everything, but more than that he hates himself.

He's so busy wallowing in his own sorrow that he doesn't hear the soft click of the door. Not until it's too late. Kara's sunshiny aroma presses against him. It's nowhere near as bright as it usually is. While typically Kara can light up a room, right now she seems just as small as Dick feels. Teary blue eyes stare at teary blue eyes. 

" Are you leaving?"

The question hangs between them so heavily, Dick feels like he can reach out and touch it. His throat feels raw. He can't bring himself to move from where he's standing. He feels weak. Like he's lost all the strength in his body. He's burnt himself out on rage, and all that remains now is defeat. 

" No- No, I'm not. "

He doesn't want her to see him like this. He doesn't want to look weak. He's quickly starting to learn, however, that wanting things doesn't mean you'll get them. He hates the relief he sees in her expression. He hates that he can smell it in her scent. His heart clenches, and the words fall out before he can stop them.

" I'm having an affair. "

Kara grows deathly still. Dick's pulse picks up as he watches for her response. She doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity. He can't read her body language. He expects her to be hurt, disappointed or maybe even furious. Instead, all he gets is a small broken smile.

" I know. "

The words cut through him. The alpha looks at the floor, seeming to be searching for what to say next. Dick can't bring himself to look away. His mouth feels dry at her admission. Of course, she knew, she had super senses. This thing between him and Jason had been going on for months. How did he really think he had hidden it from her?

Kara flexes her fingers several times. She looks just as beaten as Dick feels. Guilt twists in his stomach and makes him feel sick. He wants to run away from her. He doesn't want to face the truth.

Kara peers up at him, and it becomes harder to breathe.

" Maybe we should sit down? "

He's reluctant to take the offer, but she sits in the single couch leaving him the love seat to himself. Carefully he creeps over and curls up on the furniture. It's new and soft. Something Kara's brought them from the Garden. He looks at the paint, carpet and decor. This has been their home for so long now. He can barely remember what it had been like to sleep in his old dusty shack. 

He doesn't look at Kara, and she doesn't look at him. It makes things somewhat more manageable. He isn't sure who's turn it is to speak. He licks his lips, trying to think of a way to broach the conversation. He doesn't want another beat of silence to stretch between them. 

" You didn't show up " It shocks him how soft the words are. He doesn't recognize the anxiety in his voice. He reaches for the edge of his pants and plays with the hem. He wishes he could summon up some of the anger from earlier, but all he finds is fatigue. 

Kara sighs and Dick can hear her shifting on the couch. He risks a glance. She looks torn, her brows wrinkle where they crunch together, and her mouth is in a frown.  Dick swallows and her eyes flicker to his. 

" I was going to, I tried to- "

She looks genuine as she speaks. She can barely keep eye contact with him, her gaze quickly falling to the rug. Dick wants to reach out and soothe her but more than anything he wants answers. His omega is right at the surface, begging to know the truth. He barely realizes he's wreaking of distress until Kara's own aroma shifts to comfort him.

" I couldn't do it. I tried and made it all the way to the bedroom. I wanted to be with you, but when I thought about what I would have to do- "

Her voice chokes off, and Dick has to stomp down an omega whine. He wouldn't console her. Not when she left him for days to ride out his heat when she told him she would be there. She closes in on herself, posture crumpling. 

" I know that I should be able to, I know that it's natural, but- "

Dick can genuinely see her hands trembling. Her skin is growing paler by the second, while shame peppers her scent. Even without seeing her eyes, he knows what kind of expression she's making. He won't support her, but he can't help leaning forward in his seat.

" The thought of doing it makes me sick to my stomach. Whenever I think of going all the way- of being intimate, all of a sudden I'm nauseous. "

Dick wishes he could bite back his pathetic whimper. Kara's eyes snap to his and then she's standing. The sight of her up on his feet makes him skittish. He presses back and away from her. He doesn't get a chance to run before she's backing off. Her hands held in front of her in a submissive posture. 

His heart pounds in his chest, it's loud enough he can hear it in his ears. He watches Kara for signs of movement, but she stays perfectly still. 

" I'm sorry- I'm so sorry Dickie, I shouldn't have lied to you. I was just so scared you would leave us. I thought maybe if I could do it, you would stay. "

Her words hit him hard. The familiar feeling of disappointment sparks to life. The more desperate she becomes to explain, the more defensive he feels. He's on his feet before he knows it. His omega right with him, roaring in his head. 

" So that's what it was? The only reason why you said you would. Was to stop me from leaving? "

Dick hates that the words break his heart.

He doesn't realize he's inching towards the exit until she reaches out. 

" Dick wait- please wait. "

He shouldn't. He should get right out of the house and as far away from her as possible. His legs don't move though. He just stands there with his throat burning. Another fresh round of tears starts to fall before he can stop them. He feels like he's going to suffocate. She stares at him helplessly. 

" I didn't know what else to do. You started seeing Jason and I panicked. " 

It hurts more than a slap to the face, his guilt cools off any remaining flames of frustration. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. There's nothing he can say. What would he have done if he found out Kara had been seeing another omega behind his back? The answer that creeps to mind almost sounds ominous. 

Whatever he had to, to keep her.

" I was so lost, Dick. Kal loves you, and when I felt you distancing yourself, I had to do something. I know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I want better for Kal. I don't want to be the reason why he grows up without you. "

Dick wonders if she knows her body is trembling. If she knows that the look of sheer panic on her face makes her look breakable. He can smell nothing but desperation and fear. It's thick enough in the air that it makes him feel sick. He fights with his instincts before reluctantly deciding to comfort her.

It isn't much, just a hand on her shoulder. It must mean a lot more to her because soon she's crumpling in his touch and folding into his arms as if she belongs there. He freezes, this close he can smell everything in her scent. The betrayal, the fear and the anxiety hangs around her like a dark cloud. He squeezes his eyes shut.

" I don't want Kal to grow up without me either. "

Kara tightens her grip just enough for him to feel her strength. He squeezes her back. 

" Do you love me? "

He doesn't know why he asks her. Right now things are so delicate between them, it's probably the worst timing. He feels her tense in his hold. It's as clear an answer as words would be.

" Not the way you love me. "

It hurts less than he thought it would. Hearing it out loud is awful, but more than that it feels like he's finally able to exhale. 

"Thank you for being honest. "

They stand like that for a while, in an awkward half embrace. Dick doesn't bring up the fact that Kara is getting his shirt wet, and she similarly ignores his uneven breaths. The exhaustion from his heat and the emotional conversation starts to catch up with him. 

" We should break up. "

Kara's breath hitches, but she doesn't say anything. Carefully, Dick untangles himself from her. 

" Kara I love you, and I love Kal, but this isn't healthy for either of us "

Her eyes are red around the rim. She only holds eye contact for a few seconds before looking away. She gives a small hesitant nod. 

Dick takes both her hands, and it somehow brings her attention to him. He's too tired to smile so all he does is look. He takes in her beautiful face, her wild untamable blonde locks, the freckles that splatter over her nose and stores it all in his memory.

" You and me? We'll always be GCG and always be pack. That won't change no matter what, but I think it's time we do what's best for both of us. "

He can face his actions honestly now. As much as it hurts, he knows that this is the right thing for both of them. Kara looks up at him with lost blue eyes, and it makes his heartache. He still loves her. Maybe he always would. 

But as she said it, it's a different kind of love, and for her, it isn't romantic.

" I am sorry for cheating on you Kara."

She doesn't say anything, her eyes drop to the floor. Her scent betrays her hurt.

“ I deserved it.. “

 When she folds her hands over his chest, he feels her emotionally distancing herself a bit. He pushes into her space a bit to force her to look at him.

“ No. You didn’t no one deserves that. I’m sorry. “

Her eyes get misty again making him do the same. His heart aches for her and the guilt squeezes his throat. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

" What happens next?"

It’s a good question, he hadn't thought that far at all. He shrugs before taking a few steps back. The weight of the week crashes into him with enough force that he nearly staggers. All he wants to do is shower and sleep until this entire conversation feels like a faraway dream. 

" You tell me Alpha. "

Kara's attention snaps to him so fast he thinks she nearly breaks her neck. He can't help the tiny minute smile that slips onto his lips. 

" You still trust me with that title? "

Dick doesn't hesitate. " I trust you with my life. "

She takes a step forward to touch him, but seems to realize her place and stops. Dick watches the battle on her tear damp face. The conflict, he feels it too. It won’t be perfect, and it won’t be fixed right away but it’s a start. 

Kara offers him a hand and he takes it. It burns in his hands warm like the sun. He soaks up her touch. 

“ We’ll figure this out. Somehow. For Kal. “

He shakes her hand. Her gratitude and appreciation peppers the air like perfume.

“ For Kal. “

[stonesparrow]

For the dr.stone x atla crossover I feel that even if Hyoga is or was a soldier in the fire army he wouldn’t have liked the idea of a nations worth of centuries of knowledge pasted down through generations being wiped of the face of the earth.

I just had a thought Hyoga could be a soldier in the fire army but he could also be a master instructor at his own dojo he inherited from his master kinda like master Piandao. He’s still a fire bender though.

Also I think I would be a cute and funny plot twist if he has a daughter who is still young but old enough to help fight and strong enough to thanks her dad training her. I think he’d be the same tough and cold character he is but he’s surprisingly tender, caring, gental, and kind to her in his own way that would just make the characters in the dr.stone universe jaws hit the floor lol.

Ah, you do have a point with Hyoga likely being disappointed that the knowledge of airbending was lost to genocide - all those ancient techniques would probably be really fascinating to him as a martial artist. Though I can also see him buying into the Fire Nation’s imperialist message of “we are the strongest nation, so we should rule over all the weaker nations.”

I like your idea that Hyoga is a fighting instructor, with his values he’d probably be something like Zuko in skillset - he puts a lot of effort into firebending, but also into spearfighting since he deeply respects the nonbender master who taught it to him. At the same time he has no time for people who either don’t take it seriously or are too weak to make a difference.

(More under the cut because this got long)

Him having a kid is an interesting plot twist and while it’s more twisty than I’d expect, I’m kind of intrigued by the potential it has. Though that also brings up the question of who the kid’s mom is, and when the kid was born (I estimate Hyoga’s age in DCST to be around 20-22). Homura maybe? Like...perhaps Hyoga and Homura were both fairly high class and had an arranged marriage, but while Homura fell in love with him as they grew up together Hyoga only respected her as a friend and fellow fighter.

And then if they had a daughter (maybe pressured by both their parents to produce an heir of some sort) it could make them both more complex characters. If the kid was really strong though I’d lean more towards an Ozai-Azula like dynamic with Hyoga impressing his values of “only the strong and skilled deserve to live,” onto her. Plus if we’re keeping relative canon ages then I’d estimate Homura to be 20, Hyoga to be 22, and their daughter to be 2 by the time Team Avatar shows up in the Fire Nation to do their thing.

However...I can see some potential with the kid turning out physically weak, and that throwing Hyoga’s values into wack.

Let’s say the toddler was born healthy and strong and an assessment by some Fire Sages said that she’d become an extremely powerful bender - this pleases Hyoga, since he can’t imagine having fathered a weak child with him and Homura’s combined firebending ability. And indeed, by the time the kid is two she shows signs of firebending power well beyond her age group, with Hyoga planning to train her into an extraordinarily strong warrior.

Except with such a strong fire at such a young age, the little girl suddenly falls terribly ill, having raging fevers and struggling to breathe. Hyoga’s ideals would tell him that such an ill child will die, and that’s that, the weak and ill perish while the strong survive. But he finds himself insisting that the kid will survive, because she’s strong, she has to survive. She’ll recover and become the strongest firebender this side of the Nation, not die a weakling.

Some time later, the Gaang shows up to Hyoga’s town to resupply. Pre-Zuko joining but maybe somewhere between meeting Piandao and encountering Combustion Man? Aang decides to visit the local firebending dojo (rip Sokka’s nerves) because hey, he wants to see some firebending techniques from actual benders, and he can tooooootally handle staying low key this time, honest! He encounters Hyoga and gets a fair bit intimidated by him, though Hyoga seems to approve of “Kuzon’s” highly adaptive martial arts style.

At some point, a messenger comes and Hyoga slips away. Being nosy, Aang follows them and catches enough of the conversation to determine that there’s a sick kid living in that fancy mansion, and relays his concerns to the Gaang. Katara immediately wants to investigate further - Sokka is again very stressed but understands that he can’t stop his sister once she’s made a decision (plus this is post Painted Lady and Katara is even more determined not to let children suffer if she can do anything about it). But when she tries the front entrance, the guards won’t let her in, even when she says she’s a healer. In fact, they deny that there’s a sick child at all, while Aang insists he didn’t hear wrong.

So Aang and Katara, ever the problem solvers, break into the mansion (airbending is super useful!) and find the kid’s bedroom. Katara assesses the patient - she determines that even with her waterbending, the kid will likely suffer from complications her whole life due to the damage she’s already sustained. Hyoga suddenly appears, asking them how they got into his house (he’s actually very curious, since they seemed to enter silently and without alerting anyone). When Katara excuses herself and says she’s a healer from the colonies (Aang’s explanation for how Katara has “special healing techniques unlike any other”) and just wanted to help, Hyoga says that he doesn’t need a healer, and that the girl will recover soon. Katara starts to argue and Hyoga starts insinuating that he could easily beat her in combat, when Homura shows up, pleading with Katara to save her daughter.

Hyoga and Homura start arguing, with Homura saying this may be their last chance and Hyoga saying that a true daughter of his would be able to fight off the sickness alone. Homura eventually asks if he’d rather have a dead daughter than a weak one, which makes him go quiet (Aang and Katara are standing there awkwardly watching all of this). Hyoga then calmly says that since they seem to be at a standstill, the reasonable course of action is an Agni Kai (Aang goes pale at this, while Katara doesn’t actually know what that is).

In the courtyard the Gaang watches anxiously as Hyoga and Homura begin their duel, which results in quite a few impressive displays of firebending. Homura however seems to be holding back slightly, more on the run than attacking. At one point Homura gets thrown on her back and nearly burnt, but Katara calls out to her, saying she has to win for the kid. She gets back up and starts attacking Hyoga with renewed resolve, and even Hyoga is surprised.

Hyoga realizes that as loyal as Homura is to him, she really is doing her best to win, even coming at him with direct shots of flame now. And since this is still Hyoga, he respects that deeply - she’s doing things “properly,” even though she doesn’t want to. He even respects that Katara was so dedicated to her role as a healer that she broke into his house just on the mere mention that there was a sick child there.

And in the very bottom of his heart, despite all the talk of strength and weakness and who deserves to live, he has a hard time realizing that he doesn’t want his daughter to die, even if it means she’ll be weak and reliant on others her whole life. This might be a little OOC for canon Hyoga, but hey, it’s an au and maybe if canon Hyoga did have something small and weak to protect, he’d be less of an ass to Senku and company.

So at a key moment in the battle, Hyoga pauses for a split second instead of dodging a blast from Homura and allows himself to be grazed on the chin, reminiscent of his revival scars in canon. It’s not a bad burn, and those watching closely realize that he let her win. Hyoga turns to leave, only saying that Katara will be compensated for her healing services and that they truly did things “properly.”

Katara heals the girl, saying that the fever is gone but her lungs are damaged and she’ll have breathing problems from now on. She’s paid a small sack of gold by a servant that she initially refuses, but takes in the end since it’d probably be good to have extra Fire Nation currency on hand. The Gaang leaves the mansion feeling...a little conflicted about the experience, honestly.

Meanwhile as Homura sits by the girl’s bedside Hyoga appears in the doorway, having treated his burn from the duel. An awkwardly long silence passes before Hyoga says he’s been thinking about the skills that "Kuzon” and “Sapphire” displayed, and that he’s considering buying a home in the colonies so he can learn about those types of skills (since Aang claimed they were from the colonies). He turns to leave, but not before offhandedly saying that the seaside air in the colonies he’s looked at might be good for their daughter’s lungs.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I need to know what u think of an AU where JC is the one who dies (sacrificing his life to save WWX) instead of JYL, he’s not as angry with WWX bc JYL is still alive so when he sees his brother about to get murdered he just steps in front of him while JYL and WWX see :) I don’t even know what I want u to do with this? Give me some headcanons? Is it a prompt? Idk I just want u to to see what u make of this (I promise JC is my fav but my mind likes to make me suffer :p)

1

It wasn’t a matter of conscious thought when Jiang Cheng threw himself between that cultivator’s sword and Wei Wuxian’s unguarded back, all his defenses down in the face of Jiang Yanli’s pleading, same as always; it was just instinct. Wei Wuxian was always the troublemaker, the crazy one, and Jiang Cheng always the one being dragged along; he’d long ago learned to spend all his time watching his shixiong’s back, keeping him away from dogs, away from angry shopkeepers, away from any harm. It was instinct, just as it had been the day he’d thrown himself out into the street to distract the Wens, and he’d always justified that instinct because he knew that Wei Wuxian would do the same for him.

Though – he didn’t know that anymore, not after everything that happened recently. Wei Wuxian had made him all the promises in the world, to stand by his side through wind and lightning, and he’d seemed to have no issue abandoning those promises, picking the remnants of the Wen sect over the remnants of the Jiang sect without a moment’s hesitation and not even the courtesy of an explanation.

The Yiling Patriarch was all but a stranger to him, and Jiang Cheng still didn’t understand why.

So it was probably stupid of him to react as if the person being stabbed at was Wei Wuxian, not the Yiling Patriarch – stupid of him to give up his life for someone who didn’t care about him nearly as much as Jiang Cheng cared for him.

But that’s why it wasn’t a thought. It was instinct.

He heard someone scream “Jiang Cheng!” as if their heart were breaking, and he thought for a moment that it was Wei Wuxian again, the one who loved him best. Wei Wuxian, not the Yiling Patriarch, who threw him to the dogs over and over again, put his sect at risk of utter destruction a second time over, just to indulge himself and his bizarre fixation on saving the Wens at the expense of everyone else. Who didn’t care about their duty to their sect, to their parents - who didn’t care about him at all.

Jiang Cheng’s heart hurt. It was probably just the sword that’d just been driven through it, though.

Hands grasped at his clothing, pulling him back; his sister’s face had lost all blood, and Wei Wuxian looked as if his world had ended – he wasn’t sure why. Jiang Yanli had her son to care for, a new life in Lanling that she refused to abandon even if Jin Zixuan was now gone; Wei Wuxian had his Wens, his new cultivation – perhaps it was some little regret, far too late, for the Jiang sect that would now come to grief, leaderless, the end of their family line and the disappointment of their ancestors. Jiang Cheng’s final and most absolute failure.

Jiang Cheng looked at them both, the ones he loved the most and who had left him without a single glance backwards, and found with his last breath that he had nothing to say to them.

He closed his eyes so they wouldn’t have to.

2

The battlefield was full of corpses, and Jiang Yanli didn’t care about a single one of them.

“Do you think he can be brought back, the way Wen Ning was?” she asked, holding the corpse in her arms as if it were still the baby brother she sang songs to as a child, the little crybaby who was so fierce on the outside and so soft on the inside. She had been able to lie to herself with Jin Zixuan’s body – he almost looked as though he were sleeping, head on the pillow beside her own – but Jiang Cheng had never slept well in his life, his brow always furrowed as if he was worrying about something even in his dreams, and the blank peace on his face was so wrong that she couldn’t bear to look at him.

She wasn’t asking Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian had only stopped the massacre when Lan Wangji, of all unlikely people, had bodily tackled him; everyone had always said that the Second Jade was like oil and water with her A-Xian, but he’d unexpectedly taken their side in this battle and was even now letting a barely-conscious Wei Wuxian sob Jiang Cheng’s name into his collar. He looked silently at her, his gaze a quiet reminder that her question was inappropriate – one Ghost General had already been enough to cause all of this tragedy, and certainly no one would ever accept another as a sect leader.

She looked steadily back at him, indicating in return that she didn’t give a damn about the standing of the Jiang sect if it meant she wouldn’t have to bury her baby brother.

Lan Wangji hesitated, looking down at Wei Wuxian. “You cannot stay at Yiling,” he finally said. “After this…”

They’d killed people from virtually every sect; no matter who had sympathized with Wei Wuxian before this or how much they felt he was wronged, they would have no choice but to raise up arms against him.

Jiang Yanli understood. They would be fugitives, condemned by all. She didn’t care. “Will you help us?”

He nodded and stood, Wei Wuxian cradled as gently in his arms as she held Jiang Cheng in hers.

“Will you come with us?” she asked. Anyone who loved her brother enough to defy his sect, to stain his untainted blade with the blood of his own kin, deserved a chance to court him properly, if she hadn’t misunderstood his intentions; she didn’t think she had, not with the expression so clear on his silent face.

“I will help you,” he said, and that wasn’t an answer, wasn’t the one she wanted, but it would have to do for now. “Let us go.”

3

It was Jin Zixuan who figured it out, oddly enough. Perhaps it was because he was an outsider, looking at the situation without affection to blur his eyes.

“You gave him your golden core,” he said, less than a week into his resurrection – Lan Wangji had been very efficient in his help, not only finding a new place to hide Jiang Yanli and the remaining Wens but also returning to Lanling to steal Jin Zixuan’s corpse and little Jin Ling before returning to his own sect at the first sign that Wei Wuxian would awaken from his coma. He hadn’t sent word since that time, whether from regret or other reasons; their only consolation was that there was no news of his death. “That’s why you couldn’t do anything other than demonic cultivation – is that right?”

Wei Wuxian looked at him through blood-red eyes. “Get lost,” he said; the phrase made up the majority of his vocabulary, these days, and because he refused to curse his shijie he mostly ended up not talking to her at all.

“Wen Qing was a famous doctor – she could have figured out a way to do it, and that would explain why you felt so indebted to them,” Jin Zixuan continued. “You never told him because you didn’t want to burden him. But instead you left him without any reason, any explanation: he must have felt that you abandoned him because you didn’t want him.”

“Get lost!”

“You broke his heart,” he said, and looked down at Jiang Cheng’s body – still perfectly preserved, but unmoving. The resurrection spell had already failed three times. “No wonder he doesn’t want to return.”

“I did it for him!” Wei Wuxian screamed, tears of blood dripping down his cheeks. “He didn’t – he wouldn’t – he has to come back!”

Jin Zixuan said nothing.

4

They ended up back in Yunmeng, rather unexpectedly; the new leadership of the Lotus Pier, a distant branch cousin who’d survived the massacre because he’d been night-hunting elsewhere, had all but begged Jiang Yanli to return. Against all odds her reputation had survived the massacre at the Nightless City; the loving wife, sister, and shijie that nearly sacrificed herself to save what lives she could and to banish the dreadful Yiling Patriarch who was never seen again from that day forth –  she was very nearly regarded as an incarnation of the goddess of mercy.

She had no idea where that ridiculous notion came from, but it did mean that she could live in Lotus Pier again, with Jin Ling by her side – she’d told Jin Guangshan to name someone else as his heir, or at minimum as regent; the Jiang sect needed her and her son more. It wouldn’t have worked if Jin Zixuan hadn’t snuck into his mother’s room to convince Madam Jin to throw her support behind it; officially he was still in his tomb, since Lan Wangji had been very subtle, but in fact he lived within shouting distance of the Lotus Pier, spending his days playing with his son.

They all did, actually, the whole lot of them resettled into a tiny adjacent water town populated largely by civilians that relied on the Jiang sect for their prosperity. As long as Wei Wuxian never did anything, which he didn’t, the illusion that he was gone for good in a cloud of self-destruction after his terrible massacre could be maintained; no one expected they could possibly be so daring as to simply go home after all of it.

Lan Wangji was in seclusion, they were eventually told; Wei Wuxian hadn’t believed it for one second, smuggling himself into Gusu to check – he’d come back unconscious, slung over Jin Zixuan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Struck by the discipline whip,” her husband, the fierce corpse that wasn’t fierce at all, said, and didn’t comment when she instinctively reached out to touch Jiang Cheng’s body, to trace the scar he had; she often spent her days next to the bed that preserved his corpse. “Many times; his body is ruined. It will take years for him to heal – the Lan sect saying he was in seclusion was their way of saving face. Wei Wuxian wants to bring him back to the Lotus Pier to hide him.”

Jiang Yanli rubbed her face, thinking not for the first time that the world would be an easier place if only her two brothers weren’t so stubborn. One who wouldn’t wake up, his spiritual consciousness all in pieces; the other who wouldn’t give up – “The Lan sect wouldn’t accept that.”

“He wasn’t planning on asking. That’s why I knocked him out. Anyway, they’re distracted with the Xue Yang matter now – my father’s still insisting on protecting him, and the Nie sect gets angrier about it by the day; without the Jiang sect, there’s only the Lan to play peacemaker, stop there from being another war.”

Jiang Yanli, who was very nice but also very much not the goddess of mercy, tilted her head to the side; something of her mother was in her eyes. “A war would be a good cover, though, or at least the rumblings of one. If we were going to steal Lan Wangji away from his sect, that is.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll sneak into Lanling to talk to my mother, maybe see if I can follow Xue Yang and see what he’s up to. You go talk to the Nie.”

5

Jiang Yanli’s visit to the Unclean Realm turned out to be more fruitful than anyone had expected. The moment she walked into Nie Mingjue’s receiving room, her Jiang sect bell rang so hard that it shattered, which it definitely hadn’t done during the war – they both stared at it wordlessly for a while.

Eventually, he cleared his throat, averting his eyes. “You know my family history,” he offered as an explanation, embarrassment at the public revelation of his problem already turning to anger but suppressed by his strict adherence to etiquette.

“That’s no family history,” she said, bemused, as she crouched down to poke at the pieces. “The silver bell of the Jiang sect can steady focus and calm the mind, and the ones made for the family are the strongest by far; it would only shatter like this in the effort to resist a spiritual poison…how are you feeling now, Sect Leader Nie?”

He considered for a long moment, and his face grew black with rage. “Better. I feel – like my mind has been filled with fog, and a clear breeze has blown it clear.”

She smiled up at him. “Perhaps you should visit Yunmeng.”

He scowled, and she realized he must know about Wei Wuxian’s presence, though she wasn’t sure how; despite that, in the end, after a roaring argument with Nie Huaisang in another room, he agreed to go, even if the idea of staying willfully blind clearly pained him to the core.

Jiang Yanli quietly approved of his decision to put family over principle.

When they put their mind to it, the Nie sect  had an underrated talent for saying ‘I don’t know’ to just about everything. Neither brother blinked an eye at the Wen sect remnants that still teetered every time they went on a boat, very clearly not Yunmeng locals; they politely greeted Jin Zixuan as if he’d only been gone a while and not murdered; much to his older brother’s very evident irritation, Nie Huaisang even leapt over to give Wei Wuxian an enthusiastic hug while Nie Mingjue was still talking with Jin Zixuan about what it meant that Jin Guangshan had hidden away the still intact Wen Ning, who Jin Zixuan had found in a hidden part of Koi Tower during his most recent visit and immediately liberated.

“Definitely a case of spiritual poisoning,” Wei Wuxian said after a short examination, and the most reliable doctor they had left in the Jiang sect concurred. “The silver bell can help a little –” 

They’d already shattered seven of them, but Nie Mingjue had actually cracked a smile for the first time in months, to hear a sobbingly relieved Nie Huaisang tell it. 

“–but it can only help so much; that technique is really only meant for acute cases. And you really need to figure out what was doing the poisoning; there’s no point in curing you if you’re only going to get poisoned again.”

“A matter for a later time,” Nie Mingjue, who clearly had some suspicions that made him look as though he’d been stabbed in the back, said. “Now that we know it’s a poisoning, and my mind is clearer, I can take some action myself – the Nie have plenty of techniques to stabilize the spirit.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was full of self-hatred, as it always was these days. “I don’t suppose any of those are designed to work on the dead.”

“Actually,” Nie Huaisang said. “Several are. Why do you ask?”

6

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes.