#we gave our time to something undefined

[arcielee]

We gave our time to something undefined

Summary: Aemond receives a late night visitor. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen Word Count: 2.7k+ Warnings: Kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, and Aemond is still the consent king 👑. Author's Note: This is part 2 of Quietly, it slips through your fingers though I may do a third, as they have me hostage Gif edit by the wonderful @myfandomprompts. A big thank you to my beloved @aemondsbabe for being my beta reader and helping me hone my craft. Also ñuhon is Valyrian for mine, and sȳz riña is good girl, but I trust you all already know that one. 😈

Aemond was poised in front of the fireplace, dressed in cotton sleeping trousers and a tunic that was unbuttoned to his navel; his silver hair was slung over his shoulder in a low braid. A golden hue spilled from the hearth and washed over his practiced stoicism, his one eye trained to the flames that were crackling and curling around the blackened logs.   

His arm was stretched on the rest, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm to battle how his heart was still rattling against his ribs; his other was bent, fingers pressed into his prominent chin. He swore he could still smell the remnants of the heaven he had touched earlier, something that was both sweet and intoxicating, something that now consumed him wholly. 

He thought back to earlier that night, to after he had torn away from the small hall, his heated steps leading him throughout the corridors in a desperate search for an exit that would bring him outside of King’s Landing. He knew that Vhagar would be awaiting him, the she-dragon keenly aware of her rider’s agitation. Aemond longed to climb aback of her, to tear over the night sky, as if his ire could only be sated by dragonback. 

Or so he initially thought. 

He could not say what had stopped him—perhaps the low rumble of his nuncle. It pulled him to watch from the shadows as Daemon and his daughter, Baela, took their turns to growl at one another about the night’s events.

Rhaena was also present, also watching. 

She was a woman now, with the same quiet confidence Aemond recalled as he watched her observe her father and her sister. He noted that she did not meet with their bravado on display, but instead remained watchful; her head tilted slightly with a flicker of amusement across her lovely features. 

It reminded Aemond of Driftmark, all those years ago when everyone gathered to grieve, to pay their respects for Lady Laena. He was only a boy but still aware of the  heavy sadness in her eyes that absorbed everything around her. He recalled when her gaze fell to him, how it rooted him to the stone. Rhaena watched at his failed attempt to try and speak from his heart; she did not scowl, but merely held a clear curiosity for whatever he had to say. 

Instead, his tongue thickened and he  walked away, the grief unsaid. 

How quickly her expression changed later that night, how her lovely eyes burned with betrayal when he sauntered back, covered in ash, dragonless no more—

“—I know Dark Sister sings for blood,” and the taunting words brought Aemond back to see Baela  squaring off towards Daemon. At that same moment, Rhaena noticed him, as if she was drawn to how his blood now burned in his veins. 

Aemond stalked away, quickly and quietly, his ire rekindled. He thought of the patronizing expression that had shown in the lines of Daemon’s face. Arrogance will weigh the dragon down, his sister often sang; Aemond only scoffed at the thought.  

You have lived too long, nuncle.

He heard the footfalls echoing behind, though he did not think they would follow him out to the terrace. Aemond planted his palms to the cool stone of the balustrade, greeted by the sea breeze and the distant rumble of Vhagar. He then felt her presence, that same curiosity from long ago. 

You are lost, princess.

Aemond wished to frighten her, but she did not balk, but remained stance, facing him just as Baela had Daemon. Her gaze was unwavering, analyzing, almost desperate to see what was underneath. His fingers itched to show her, removing the eyepatch but even then she responded in a way that he never thought possible. 

There was no pity to be found, just a genuine remorse that left him shattered—the softness and the warmth of her lips against his marred side, his skin prickling from her touch. 

Back in his room, Aemond could feel the warmth emitting from the embers in front of him, or perhaps it was from the memory of what had followed that kiss, of how she fit against his chest, of how she looked up at him unabashed, unafraid, unwilling to leave him. 

His fingers flexed, balling back into a fist, still feeling the ghost pulse of her erratic heartbeat from the pleasure he had pulled from her… 

His blood simmered, but a soft tap on his door brought his mind back into his room. Aemond moved, a flash of silver to welcome the distraction. When he opened the door, Rhaena slipped in; she was quick to pull it closed behind her, her back pressing against the oak, breathless. 

His every nerve was alight as he drank in the sight of her–her deep breaths, the rise and fall of her chest, her lithe curves pressing the pastel silk of her nightdress and her skin peering through the matching silk robe hastily pulled over. Her silver locs had been knotted back into a long braid, accompanied with a pleasant scent of rose water. 

Her eyes held the same look from earlier, wide and glassy, uncertain but also unwilling to leave. 

Aemond swallowed. 

You came, he wished to say, but his arrogance won his tongue. “So soon, princess?” 

I had to see you, she did not reply, but instead her face shifted into a coy facade. “You told me to come find you if I wished to find satisfaction…” 

Her words ignited something within him and Aemond closed the space between them. His one palm grabbed her hip and the other moved to touch her jaw, gently tilting her head to claim her lips just as he had out on the terrace. Her trepidation from before was gone, now replaced with a warm familiarity as her tongue curled in rhythm with his own. 

Aemond hummed his pleasure and Rhaena pulled him closer until he melded against her, the surge of fire meeting fire with a burning desperation. She gasped softly and he deepened the kiss, drawing the air from her aching lungs. His leg shifted between her thighs with a pressure that made her mewl, softly, sweetly. It trilled the length of his spine, his cock throbbing against the seams of his slacks. 

He pulled back and reached for her hand, her fingers lacing as though they belonged in his grasp. She followed quietly as he pulled her towards the bed, a giggle spilling, gleeful. Then Aemond paused and turned to face her again; his large hands moved to cradle her jaw, holding her gaze, and her skin rippled with gooseflesh from the contrast of his gentle touch and the roughness of his palms. 

“This will only go as far as you wish it too,” his voice was low, his words tinged with a fear that she would simply change her mind and leave. 

But instead hope bloomed with the flutter of her lashes, her lips curling into a smile as she stepped closer to capture his lips. Her hands knotted into the loose fabric of his tunic and she pulled him closer still, smiling. Aemond thrummed from the taste of passion, tilting her head to savor the kiss. 

The silk she had been wearing was now a puddle at her feet, and Aemond discarded his tunic, his hands pausing at the waistband of his pants. He looked at Rhaena, watching her carefully, the black now swallowing the blues and the purples of his one intensive eye, an amber gleam flickering in the sapphire of his other. 

Her smile remained as she took a step back, resting on the edge of the bed. She did not look away from him as his eye trailed over her soft curves, admiring the golden glow of the fire on her brown skin, how it rose with the night air, her nipples pebbling in response. 

Beautiful, he does not say but instead swallowed to wet his throat. “That bastard does not deserve you,” his rasped confession wrenched from his lungs. 

Only then did she look at her hands resting on her plush thighs, and offered a soft hum in return. The boldness that had brought her to his room continued her motion, her hands reaching to grab the waistband of his slacks, her fingers precariously placed above the heady bulge that pressed against the crotch. 

He felt his blood roaring to stain his cheeks as her eyes washed over his bare body, trailing the silver scars now displayed, the lines that cut into his trim waist before she met with his gaze again. Aemond allowed himself a step closer, a heavy sway, moving between her parted thighs until he was close enough for her to softly touch his unmarred side, until he could feel her breathless whisper hot against his skin– 

“Then claim me.”  

And he burned with how each syllable dripped with the honey that spilled from her kiss-swollen lips. “Aōhon ynot sahās,” she said, her eyes locking onto him. 

Make me yours.

His hand covered her own, turning his head until his lips feathered the pulse of her wrist. “Ñuhon,” he growled against her skin, mine, and then he pushed forward until she melted into the mattress, lifting her legs and welcoming him into the cradle of her hips. 

His mouth was hot, ravenous, only allowing her a moment to breathe when he moved his attention to the curve of her jaw and to her neck. His teeth nipped at her skin, leaving dark plumes of color in his wake. 

He could feel her trembling beneath him, her head falling back with a gasp. “Aemond!” 

It was his siren song, those sweet sounds from the terrace. They remained with his steps that brought him back to his room, echoing in his mind until it curdled the marrow of his bones, a dull ache that knotted his lower organs. He wished to draw those same sounds but with his tongue; his hands pressed to open her thighs further, and he sank between them to place an intimate kiss that made her shudder in response. 

She was slick, a taste divine, and his tongue trailed between her folds until he felt her hands knotting in his hair. He feasted between her thighs with a hold that dimpled the softness of her skin, anchoring himself to her core. Aemond pulled her towards a new plateau of pleasure with his mouth, his tongue laving until she tried to writhe away. 

Her back arched with the expanse of her chest begging for air, her hands moving for fistfuls of bed linen to ground herself. Her lips parted with a wordless cry as his dexterous fingers curled within her. “Aemond,” she panted, panicked, but he touched her with familiarity, feeling how her every fiber sang for him: heart thrumming, muscles tensing, desperate for more. 

Aemond hummed against her cunt and the low vibration caused a soft cry, a pulse of her velvet walls around his fingers. “Sȳz riña,” he murmured, adding another finger that met with the tandem of his first. His tongue returned to carve through her sweet lips with an unrelenting pace that pulled her towards her peak. 

It shuddered throughout her, a sob spilling that Aemond moved to muffle with a kiss, his praises soothing against her lips: “Sȳz riña, sȳz riña.” He melted into her warmth, her body pliant and molded against him. His arms caged her to the bed and his cock twitched, the heat from her bare cunt calling and pulling him closer.

Rhaena squirmed beneath him, and he tried to lift his weight but her nails bit into his waist, stopping him. “Aemond,” she was breathless, almost begging. “Please, I–” but she faltered to find her words. He could feel her pulse still fluttering against his chest, and she swallowed thickly. 

“Aōhon ynot sahās,” she repeated, a desperation now touching her tone.

Aemond felt his heart seize in his chest, and he tilted his head for a gentle kiss. “We will begin slowly,” his voice rasped with his reserve, “I promise.” 

She nodded and he was careful to slot his slender hips between her thighs, his swollen cock heavy and pressing against one side. She sighed, and he looked to see her drunken smile splayed on her lips as he nestled against her. His arm weaved between to guide himself, and she tensed from the unfamiliar pressure, his swollen head sliding through her folds and lining with her entrance. 

A muscle ticked in his jaw with his concentration, his slow thrusts sinking into her warmth with a shuddering halt when his hips met with hers. Aemond then stilled, watchful, worried, seeing how her face was clouded. He moved to kiss her, his body shifting against hers, and she let out a small noise that he swallowed. 

“Rhaena…”

Her eyes fixated on him, and he felt the fire in her veins pressing towards the surface. Her head nodded yes, a whispered, “Kostilus,” please, and only then did his hips begin to move. Her tension began to fall away with his slow rut, his rhythm continuing. She mewled softly, canting her hips to meet the snap of his own, sparking something different, something deeper, and he felt her tighten around him.

Aemond hummed, and his pace quickened with the lewd sound of skin-to-skin. The heat curling in his core began to spread under his skin, a bowstring taut to nearly snap at the sound of her breathless cries, the pulsing of her velvet walls that pulled him after. 

He groaned, his hip stuttering, and his brow pressed to her own. He felt her legs wrapping around his waist and  looked at her. Rhaena combed her fingers through the silver hair that spilled from his braid, pulling him close for a kiss. 

“Stay with me,” his voice was low, blooms of red staining his cheeks. “Kostilus,” he added.

Please.

Rhaena kissed him with the promise to stay and only then did he pull away. He pulled on his slacks again, unbuttoned, and moved towards the wash basin to grab a clean cloth. Aemond turned on his heel and saw her, bashfulness now replacing her boldness from before, wrapped in the sheets. Her eyes were wide, glassy, and filled with something he now understood.

Desire, thrumming with the ichor of Old Valyria that ran rampant in their veins. 

He moved towards her and a smile curled on her lips, her eyes falling to the sway of his hips and the silver patch that peered lewdly above the waist of his trousers. His hand reached to pull the sheet away while his other began to carefully wipe away his pearly spend. 

She sighed, different than before, now with contentment and a consideration as her thighs fell open to welcome him again. He burned under her sense of awe as she watched his hands move over her skin; Aemond murmured his questions and she promised she felt fine, catching his wrist and bringing it to meet her lips for a kiss. 

He pulled away a second time–the last time he swore–discarding the soiled cloth and pulling through his drawers to retrieve a silk scarf that had been gifted from across the narrow sea. He watched her hands move to wrap her hair and he shyly offered to knot it at the nape of her neck, pressing a chaste kiss there when he finished. 

With their earlier tension spent and staining the sheets, their exchange was now natural, a tethered bond that seemed to be planted on that fateful night of Driftmark. Aemond climbed beneath the covers and his hands could not leave her, pulling her until her back was flushed to his chest, fitting like a missing piece. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close enough to feel the thrum of his heart. 

Her voice was soft, breaking the quiet that had settled over them. “What will happen now?” 

His hum reverberated through them and he pulled her closer until his lips could touch her shoulder once, twice, following the curve and pressing against the soft spot under her ear, pressing contemplative kisses before he said: “Tomorrow I will petition the king for your hand in marriage.” 

Rhaena shifted in his arms. “What if he says no?” 

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling against her skin. “Vhagar remembers you,” he began, his breath tickling; she bloomed with his words. “If they say no, I will take you to Driftmark and we will have a ceremony anyway, just as our ancestors did.”

“But what–”

“But nothing,” his tone cut through, a gentle resolve, and he pressed another kiss to the nape of her neck. Rhaena relaxed against him. “Iksā ñuhon.”

You are mine.

Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @black-dread @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @hb8301 @snowprincesa1 @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9 @helaelaemond @qyburnsghost @niocel

arcie's hotd masterlist

[annecoulmanross]

So it's been a while. But I couldn't let James Fitzjames Finding Day pass without some celebration—thank you Doug Stenton, Stephen Fratpietro, and Robert W. Park for giving us this wonderful and terrible knowledge. I've made an emotional playlist of all of us currently experiencing whatever emotion this is:

Selected lyrics for each song included below the cut!

Strange Ships | PHILDEL

Strange ships won’t let me sail out Passed by the ice and stone now

2. I, Carrion (Icarian) | Hozier

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

3. Howling | Wild Rivers

Howling out here for the morning light I can’t sing no more

4. The Yawning Grave | Lord Huron

I tried to warn you when you were a child I told you not to get lost in the wild I sent omens and all kinds of signs I taught you melodies, poems, and rhymes

5. Sax Rohmer #1 | The Mountain Goats

Ships loose from their grins, capsize and then they’re gone Sailors with no captains watch a while and then move on

6. Long Wave | Dessa

Starve the guard dog And see what hunger does It’s easy when we’re well fed To talk of love

7. Achilles Come Down | Gang of Youths

Throw yourself into the unknown, With pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold, And see life as a means to a triumph

8. Eat You Alive | The Oh Hellos

I’ve seen the true face of the things you call life The song of the siren that holds your desire Death, she is cunning and clever as hell And she’ll eat you alive

9. My Ego Dies At The End | Jensen McRae

Leave my body and my ego early Kill it kind with a surgeon’s mercy Claim I put it out of its misery

10. Who We Are | Hozier

Darling, we sacrificed We gave our time to something undefined This phantom life sharpens like an image But it sharpens like a knife

11. Devourer | Aidoneus

Beams of light, show me how to feel Light the gloam, find my Achilles heel I will welcome my mortality—let me go

12. Sound the Bells | Dessa

Go lift your sails up For one last swell Go lift yourselves up To sound the bells

13. Your Bones | Of Monsters and Men

Said goodbye to you my friend As the fire spread All that’s left are your bones That will soon sink like stones

14. Wildflower and Barley | Hozier, Allison Russell

This year, I swear it will be buried in actions This year, I swear it will be buried in words Some close to the surface, some close to the casket I feel as useful as dirt, put my body to work

15. These Bones | Azrai, Momo O’brien

It’s a savage sea we’re made to roam Every tide can turn to haunt us But the ocean reaches past these ghosts And I will always sail for more

16. By Way Of Sorrow | Cry Cry Cry

You have come by way of sorrow You have come by way of tears You’ll reach your destiny Meant to find you all these years

17. Gracestone | PHILDEL

When I open my final door I’m gonna sail much wilder seas than your ships were built for I’m turning into dust across that cove You know, I have known enough to not feel owed

18. Glowing | The Oh Hellos

You’ll rise, like land, pulled up at the sound of some strange commandment A moon alight, reflecting fully And I guess it would feel like rebirth, out of some kind of dying To see yourself so glowing

[wolverigrl]

The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

[lives-between-lines]

We gave our time to something undefined - poly!marauders x slytherin reader

─

Summary: Everyone is back from summer break and the rumor mill is buzzing about a certain Slytherin, can our favorite Marauders provide a bit of comfort during trying times?

Notes:  I’m so sorry about how long this took! I honestly wasn’t sure where to go next with their story, so it took me a little fiddling but I’m happy with the direction I landed on and I hope you are too. 

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~8.3k

p.1 p.2

─

I hated summer. It was too hot and there was too much down time stuck with my parents. Maybe if they let me actually visit my friends more, or leave the house for more than an hour at a time I could enjoy it. Maybe if I could have a hobby that was just for leisure and not something else that I had to dedicate countless hours to being perfect at I could have a bit of fun. Instead my summers were occupied with studying to get ahead for the next year, going to stuffy formal events where I recounted how well I did on each of my OWLs, and listening to my parents drone on about all the accomplishments of their friends’ kids. 

One special cloud loomed over me as I stepped away from my parents at the train platform and toward a few months of freedom, but I shook it out of my head and focused on getting to my friends as quickly as possible. 

Having taken one last glance back at my parents, I wasn’t watching where I was going and walked straight into the stiff, muscled back of one James Potter. He turned around and I'd be damned if he didn’t smile at me like we were great friends. My brows furrowed as I scowled at him.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you since─”

“Quite a while, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me,” I sharply interrupted him. Then I shouldered past him before he could say anything else. I knew what he was going to say, and I knew that I did not care for Potter loudly announcing to the entire platform about our encounter over the summer. Even the small interaction just now brought more attention to me than I particularly wanted. 

Andromeda stood just outside one of the train doors and we made eye contact. As I neared her, she glanced back to where I presumed James still stood. “What’s his deal? He looks a bit like a kicked puppy.”

I frowned at her, but forced myself not to look back. “How should I know? Let’s get to our seats, my feet are killing me.” 

One of Andromeda’s eyebrows ticked up at me in suspicion, but she led the way to our usual compartment. 

─

I sat amongst my friends, quietly observing as they recounted their adventures, or similar lack thereof. A part of me felt like a snake had coiled itself around my neck, a heavy weight that wouldn’t let up. 

“Are you feeling quite right?” Narcissa asked me about halfway through the trip. I looked up at her, startled. Suddenly all of the girls in the compartment were staring at me. I tried to take a breath and couldn’t. I opened my mouth to respond and words failed me. 

“Has something happened?” Andromeda asked, her hand reaching out for mine. I jerked away just as a knock sounded at our door. Everyone’s attention was quickly redirected, except for Andromeda who gave me a weary look before turning to see who had interrupted whatever had been about to happen. 

My heart dropped to my feet when I looked up to see Evan Rosier smirking at me. I willed him not to say anything that would inform my friends of the deal our parents had made this summer. It was as if he could read my thoughts at that moment, and knew exactly what to do to rile me up. 

“I believe the snack trolley is making its rounds and I do feel obliged to offer my inamorata whatever her heart desires,” he says with a self assured chuckle. 

The girls look rightly confused before glancing to me and seeing the way I glowered at Evan. 

Andromeda lets out a disbelieving laugh which causes Evan to frown slightly. “What on earth do you think you’re going on about?” 

“Our betrothal of course.” Evan holds out his hand to me. I glare at it until he drops it back to his side. “Oh, don’t be like that, my dearest. Our parents have made the deal and set the date for the second we graduate.” A series of gasps sound around me. 

Arranged marriages weren’t abnormal in our society, they just weren’t often arranged with people as young as Evan and I still were. To plan to be wed as soon as you graduated was unheard of. 

I shoot daggers at Evan for taking yet one more thing out of my hands. I decided in that moment that I hated him. I absolutely hated him and if I truly were to marry him I would make our marriage a living hell for him just as it would be for me. 

“Well. I suppose I’ll leave you all to your gossiping and wedding planning then.” He gave me one last smirk before finally excusing himself. I wanted to scream at him and rip his hair out. I wanted to hex him clear off the train. I wanted to curl up on the floor beneath my seat and hide from the world as I cried out everything I had been carrying with me. 

Instead I sat frozen in place as everyone else simply stared at me. 

“Please tell me that’s not true. You can’t truly be engaged to Rosier. Why on earth would your parents ever arrange such a thing?” Narcissa asked. 

When I swallow it feels like gravel tearing down my throat. “It appears that our parents have decided we would make an advantageous pairing.” It’s a piss poor answer, but it’s the best I can offer. 

“Well I suppose you should be grateful it’s Evan and not his widowed grandfather,” Phoebe Parkinson giggles. The others are quick to agree and start highlighting all of Evan’s so-called dreamy qualities that will make him a great husband. 

As I sit there I can’t help feeling upset that they aren’t mad on my behalf. 

─ 

Two weeks into the school year and the entire school has been murmuring about what I must have done wrong for my parents to plan to get rid of me so quickly. Of course no one wants to ask me anything directly, and Evan has been feeding the rumor mill every chance he got despite my efforts to limit my interactions with him. My friends act like nothing has happened, having gathered quickly the subject was not open for discussion. 

Walking into the Great Hall for breakfast every morning I catch myself looking for something, though I can’t seem to figure out what. 

In the hallways Evan tries to walk me to class and carry my books or hold my hand. I see girls giggling that he’s such a sweet boyfriend and I want to scream at them he’s not my boyfriend. 

In classes he enchants notes to fly to my desk which only serve to get me in trouble with the professors.

At meals he makes a show of placing food on a plate to give me before making one for himself.

One time in the common room he tried to massage my shoulders.

Every bloody chance he gets, he parades around like the perfect boyfriend, making me look like a heartless villain every time I shoot him down. 

─

A little over a month into the school year and people have finally started to move on, but I still feel the weight of their looks when I’m forced to sit next to Evan in class. He’s nothing if not persistent, never giving up his ostentatious displays of “affection.” 

It’s a Thursday evening after classes and I managed to shake Evan when I disappeared into the library. I have a stack of books up to my shoulders as I move through the shelves back to the table I had secured. I think I see a ruffle of golden brown hair turning one corner as I turn the other, but I brush it off. I hadn’t seen anyone worth studying with in the library yet this year.

I make another sharp turn and stop dead in my tracks. I’m frozen in shock and I don’t know why because I don’t care. It doesn’t hurt my feelings, or make me mad, or even feel like an inconvenience at all. 

Rosie Connelly jumps away from Evan Rosier, who in turn pulls his hand out from under her shirt. When he turns to face me he looks perturbed until he realizes it’s me. He’s quick to smooth a pacifying smile over his face, likely ready to say something truly dense. 

I stare back at him, blankly, waiting for whatever his idea of a good excuse is. 

“Well we’re not married yet,” he finally says with a sort of self-pleased laugh. And that truly does me in. I swing so violently from pissed off to heartbroken that this is what my parents want for me and back in a matter of seconds. Evan seems about ready to say something else despotic when his face suddenly falls. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, looking past me. 

I turn to see what has been able to elicit a more reasonable reaction from him at having gotten caught making out with someone he isn’t currently betrothed to. Of course it’s none other than Phoebe Parkinson. A rather nice, well-mannered girl in our year who only happens to be the world’s nastiest gossip. 

I let out a dejected sigh. There’s no threat in the world that could keep her mouth shut for more than five minutes. 

Without a word I storm past her, leaving behind a situation that is only going to exponentially complicate the future my parents plan for me. 

I manage to navigate back to my table, set my books down without toppling any of them, and take my seat. It’s only when I hear someone clear their throat that I look up and come out of my numb daze.

Remus Lupin’s golden brown eyes meet mine and I nearly miss the way he subtly licks his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to say something, then pauses as he analyzes my face. His face drops at whatever he thinks he sees, seeming to be suddenly unsure of himself.

If he isn’t going to say anything, I will. “What do you want?”

He cringes. Okay, maybe it came across a bit harsher than I meant. 

I take a steadying breath. “Forgive me, how can I help you?”

“Dove, you look like shit,” he says bluntly. I gape at him. 

“Well excuse me, it’s not everyday the bastard my parents are forcing me to marry is caught feeling up some Hufflepuff slut by the world’s nastiest gossip,” I snap at him. 

The shock on his face satisfies an angry part of me. A part of me that just wants to lash out at everyone for how bullshit the whole thing is.

Another part of me, the part that cares about Remus, the part that remembers he called me his friend, feels a bit kicked. 

I suddenly struggle to meet his eyes anymore. Instead I choose to stare down at my hands. It feels a bit cowardly to tear into him then turn in on myself. 

I see his hand move in my view, coming close to but not quite touching my hands. 

“What do you say we get out of here? Get some fresh air?” He offers quietly.

“Er─ yeah that sounds nice,” I choke out. Remus hesitates for only a second before loosely wrapping his hand around my wrist. It’s merely a guiding touch, but I could cave at how gentle it is. 

I’m vaguely aware that Remus is guiding me toward one of the courtyards. My thoughts spiral as I wonder what my parents will have to say about the latest development between me and Evan. Would they break things off with his parents? Would they blame me for not playing his blushing bride to be? Would they continue to punish me and make me uphold the arrangement? What would people say about me if I still had to marry him? What would people say if things ended? What would my parents say if people began to pity me because of this?

“Would you like a bit of chocolate, dove?” Remus interrupts my racing thoughts as he guides me to sit on a bench next to him.

I look over to him. My friend. 

“It may not solve all your problems but it can certainly make them feel less daunting,” he explains.

“I think I might be sick, actually,” I say weakly. 

He frowns at me. “Maybe not, then.”

We sit in awkward silence for a few moments. 

“So it’s true? What people were saying about your parents making an arranged marriage with Rosier’s parents?” He finally asks.

“Yeah…”

“Did you even like him?”

“No.”

“Why would your parents make you marry him?” He sounds frustrated on my behalf.

“We make an advantageous pairing,” I murmur the same response I’ve given anyone else who has ever asked. 

“The bloody hell does that bullshit mean?” He scoffs.

“It means I only got an acceptable on my divination OWL,” I say so softly he may not even hear. The way his brow furrows tells me he heard and is still miffed. “I’m a failure and an embarrassment to my family. The only success I can find in my future is as a house-wife, serving an actually great wizard.” My words are void of emotion, merely an echo of the vitriol that was spewed at me by my parents. 

Remus looks actually hurt by what I’ve said. I give him a smile I know is nowhere near convincing.

“Dove, please don’t tell me you actually believe what you’ve just said,” he says, cautiously. 

“What does it matter if I believe it or not? What choice have I ever had? I must do proud by my family. I had one chance to prove myself and I wasted it. I can’t embarrass them like that again, but now Rosier’s gone and soiled everything.” I feel absolutely hopeless. 

“A passing grade on a tremendously difficult test is not an embarrassment. Your family is bloody insane if they truly believe that.” Remus sounds exasperated with me and I hate to think I’ve let down someone else.

“You lied, Remus,” I whisper.

“You have infinitely more than just one chance to prove yourself, you have a million every day,” he continues, ignoring what I’ve said.

“You lied,” I murmur again.

“Your family should be embarrassed for saying such backwards things about your future success,” he grumbles.

“Remus…”

“And if they truly think Evan bloody Rosier is meant to be a greater wizard than you? Well. They are─”

“You lied!” I nearly shout at him. 

Remus looks offended at my outburst. “I’m quite certain I’ve done no such thing, not to you anyhow, but please do enlighten me.”

“You said it would be okay if I wasn’t perfect. You said things would turn out okay.”

He seems at a loss for words.

“It’s not okay, Remus. Things are very much not okay,” I get choked up as tears well in my eyes.

“Oh, dove,” he sighs. Before I know it he’s pulled me into a hug. The dam inside me breaks and I begin to sob into his shoulder. He holds me closer.

Eventually I begin to calm down, at least enough that Remus pulls away and begins to wipe my tears. 

“Darling, I’m terribly sorry that things are looking dreary, but I don’t believe for one minute that this is truly to be your destiny.” He pauses. “In fact I know that things will turn around for you because you are strong and capable and a very, very powerful witch.”

I look up at him, feeling forlorn. “I don’t feel strong and capable and very, very powerful, though. I feel… defeated.”

Remus pulls me into another crushing hug. There is one thing that I am becoming very aware of and that is how powerful of a hugger Remus is. He smells like cinnamon and firewood and with how firmly he holds me I feel as though I can relax and I won’t completely fall apart. He rubs circles between my shoulder blades and I nearly melt into him. 

“You are not defeated,” he whispers to me in a serious voice. “I simply will not allow it.”

I pull away to look into his honey brown eyes. They hold so much warmth in them. 

“You take your time, build yourself back up. But don’t you for one minute give in and accept your parents words as the truth. You are too wonderful to succumb to their hate.” I try to stop the tears that spring back into my eyes. “James and Sirius and I will help you, you know. With anything.” I give him a weak smile and start to politely brush it off. “No, I’m serious. Anything you need, dove, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble.

The dinner bell starts to chime. I clear my throat and start to gather my things. 

“I suppose I should probably─”

“If you’d like to, we could─”

Remus and I speak at the same time. We pause and a grin wiggles onto my face.

“I─”

“Sorry─”

We do it again and I can’t stop from laughing at us.

Remus’s eyes shine with mirth as he mimics zipping his lips shut.

“No, you go ahead,” I urge.

“Well I was just going to offer if you’d like me to grab James and Sirius and we could have dinner together, maybe out here even.” He seems uncharacteristically shy as he asks. I consider what it might mean to skip the Great Hall and all the rumors it will be turning tonight. It’s very tempting, but I’ve never been one to back down from some hearsay spread by bored teenagers. And I certainly don’t want anyone to think I’m hurt over Evan’s actions and hiding from them.

“I really appreciate the offer, and it is very tempting, but I should probably face the music.” 

He seems dejected for only a second before masking it. “Right, I understand.”

“My friends likely have plenty to say about matters and avoiding them doesn’t usually go the way I’d like,” I further explain. 

“Of course. I can certainly relate to that.” He gives me a knowing smile. 

He starts to reach for his own bag. “But perhaps─” I stop myself, uncertain of what I even want to say.

Remus watches me expectantly. When I don’t say anything further he prompts me. “Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps we could─ you, me, Sirius, and James that is─ well… We could meet out at the lake after dinner?” Suddenly I’m the one who’s gone shy. 

An almost smug smirk seems to settle onto Remus’s face. I fear for a second he’s going to make fun of me.

“That sounds great, dove. I’m sure they’d love to.” The smile he gives me is genuine.

“Great,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. “I’ll see you out there after dinner, then.” 

Remus nods in confirmation. “I can’t wait.”

We stand to part, me to go clean up before going to dinner and him likely to go find his friends. 

“Oh, err─ just one request if you will?” I ask before he can walk away.

“Sure thing.”

“Maybe don’t tell a bunch of people?” He looks confused at my request. “I’m sorry I know it’s a bit strange, but I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea considering what Rosier’s been doing.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll make sure to stay discreet and let the boys know to do the same.”

“Thank you, Remus.” We share an almost conspiratorial smile before finally departing.

─

Dinner seems to take forever as my friends pointedly avoid bringing up what the whole school is already talking about. Evan sits further down the table than he usually does. I think him a bit cowardly for not trying to talk to me about it, but I also appreciate that I don’t have to deal with him just yet. 

My friends start toward the Slytherin common room after dinner, as is our standard routine.

I catch Andromeda and Narcissa’s attention. “I’m actually going to go back to the library to study a bit more before bed today.”

They share a confused look. “Oh, okay. Would you like us to join you?” Narcissa asks.

“No, that’s okay. I think I just need some space tonight. Might try to draft a letter to my parents,” I explain. I tug at the sleeve of my robe. 

“Right, of course. It’s good to keep up with them,” Andromeda says, treading lightly around the idea of me telling my parents what happened today. 

“You know where to find us if you need anything,” Narcissa offers.

“Thank you, I’ll be fine,” I promise before departing.

I make my way out to the lake without running into anyone I fear will be keeping track of my whereabouts.

I don’t see the boys anywhere yet so I settle down under a tree and practice levitating a branch. I’d left my book bag back in my dorm, otherwise I would take the time to pull out my divination textbook that I’ve been studying extra hard since we got back. 

“There she is, the prettiest Slytherin princess,” I hear Sirius say from somewhere behind me. I turn to him with a scowl. 

“Aww, don’t worry, darling,” James coos as he walks next to Sirius. “You’re the only Slytherin princess we care about.” Him and Sirius laugh at his stupid joke and I roll my eyes at their antics.

“I’m not a bloody princess,” I grumble as they sit on either side of me.

“Sure you are, dove,” Remus says as he sits across from me. “Doesn’t make you a ‘simpering girl in need of a man to save her,’ just makes you special.”

“If that’s how you feel then I cannot relate to you at all, princess,” Sirius starts. “I am most definitely in need of a big, strong man to save me.” He pretends to faint, falling into Remus.

“Oy, pester Jamie with that hero shit. I haven’t got the time.” Remus pushes him off. 

“Hey! What’re you volunteering me for? I’ve saved his ass enough times already, I’m nearing my limit,” James argues. 

“What the hell? Who’s going to save me then?” Sirius asks, pretending to be outraged.

They each glance at me.

“Well I suppose I could spare a bit of time to save you, but my time is precious to me so I expect to be fairly compensated for my heroic efforts.” I try to play along, but I’m not entirely sure I’m doing it right.

Sirius grins at me. “Why yes of course. I don’t suppose some chocolate frogs would do the trick?”

“Five chocolate frogs and two cauldron cakes,” I counter-offer.

James laughs. “Is that the going rate for princess-saving these days?” He jokes.

“I’m afraid it is, though I hear it goes up for each occurrence,” I explain.

“You drive a hard bargain but considering my limited options I suppose I have no choice. What’s a princess to do these days?” Sirius laments dramatically. 

“Damn, if I knew I could be getting sweets out of you for saving your ass I would’ve been cashing in on that this whole time,” Remus quips. 

The evening continues on with wise-cracking banter and the boys sharing silly stories about each other. I try to share my own stories in return, but it becomes jarringly apparent to me that me and my friends have significantly less fun outside of class than the boys and their friends. I try not to think so hard about why we’re all so serious all the time.

All the while that we’re talking, James picks at and fiddles with the grass. Occasionally, he switches to picking at a scratch on his arm, and Remus gently guides him back to playing with the grass. I think they think I don’t notice, so I don’t say anything about it.

At some point, Sirius’s hair starts to go a bit everywhere, frizz making him look a bit frantic. He keeps trying to brush it out of his face, but I can tell it keeps bothering him still. 

I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but suddenly I ask if he’d like me to braid it back for him. Each boy wears their own look of shock at my offer and I worry I’ve crossed a line.

Once the shock passes, Sirius’s eyes go round and he just nods in response.

I have a spare hair-tie on my wrist, so I move to kneel behind him and start combing through his hair with my fingers, gently working out the couple of tangles I snag on. His shoulders start to sag as I work my fingers through his hair, so I continue to comb through it a couple moments longer than necessary. 

James and Remus are talking about one of their assignments they haven’t quite finished that’s due in a couple days, but I focus in on Sirius’s hair. It’s quite soft, and very thick. I notice that Sirius doesn’t try to make any conversation with James or Remus as I work on french-braiding his hair.

I can’t help feeling almost sad as I near the end. I liked the excuse to be close to him.

As I secure the hair-tie at the tip of the braid I let him know I’ve finished. He lets out a sad sigh. I move back to my original spot, although maybe a bit closer to him still. 

He gives me a glum smile. “No one’s ever done that for me before,” he explains, softly. “It felt quite nice.”

“How long have you been growing it out?” I ask, matching his tone. 

“Last three years or so. It practically grows overnight, though.”

I reach out to fiddle with the end of his braid. He leans closer to me in response. I study the contours of his face. It really is a nice face. Part of me wants to cradle it between my hands. My eyes drift down to his lips and I wonder what they might taste like. I look back up into his piercing grey eyes and try not to betray what I was just thinking about. 

“Christ’s sake, James, quit picking at your arm,” Remus exclaims, breaking Sirius and I out of our reverie. 

Sirius and I look over to where James has started to make himself bleed just a bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice I was messing with it again,” James says, looking stressed. Sirius gives him a sympathetic look. 

Remus mutters under his breath, exasperated, as he digs around in his bag before pulling out a bandage. 

“I’m sorry, Remus, I really didn’t mean to,” James insists as Remus gently presses the bandage over the re-opened scratch on his arm. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. Just try to stay more aware, yeah?” Remus speaks softer this time, giving James’s hand a reassuring squeeze. James nods.

Sirius asks them about the assignment they’d been talking about when I started braiding his hair, swiftly changing the conversation to more navigable territory. 

The rest of the night seems to go on without a hitch. The sun eventually sets and the stars are bright in the sky. 

I start to feel sleepy, but don’t say anything, not wanting my time with the boys to come to an end. In the end my yawns betray me, and Remus calls it a night on my behalf. They walk me back into the castle before bidding me a good night as I go toward the Slytherin dorms and them toward the Gryffindor tower.

─

I’m fixing my hair for the night at the vanity in our dorm when Andromeda breaks the silence. “You were gone quite a while, is everything all right?”

“As much as it can be,��� I reply. “Sorry if I worried you, but I feel better after having some time to think.” 

“It’s okay, we understand,” Narcissa is quick to say. 

“We heard about what happened in the library this afternoon,” Andromeda speaks plainly. Narcissa looks shocked that she brought it up.

“I figure most people would have by now,” I say neutrally. Andromeda moves to stand behind me and look at me in the mirror. “Look, Andy, it’s all fine. Really. You both know I didn’t want to marry him anyway. I don’t know what my parents will have to say about this, but I can tell you one thing for certain, I am not marrying that lowlife.”

Andromeda holds my gaze in the mirror before giving a sharp nod, then going to finish getting ready for bed.

Later on as I lay in bed I can’t help but remember the night my parents told me about the deal they had made. 

─ 

“It doesn’t matter if you love him or not, you don’t even have to like him, but you will be cordial and respectful. Your future relies on it now,” my mother spoke harshly to me. Then she instructed me to get dressed for the gala we were attending that night. “Do up your makeup, too. The Rosiers will be there and you’ll want to make a good impression as Evan’s new bride.”

I nearly gagged hearing the word “bride” uttered in relation to Evan Rosier. I remained composed and replied with the proper “yes, ma’am.” 

The dress my father had picked out was truly horrid. The seams were itchy and the fabric clung to my skin in a way that made me sweat. It was the kind of dress that made me look older than I am, something that my mother would wear. I did my makeup in a way that I thought matched, but it felt heavy on my face. 

I came out when my parents called out that it was time to leave. My father inspected me carefully. “Fine,” he said, sounding bored.

At the gala my parents forced me to socialize with nearly every person there. For the most part I was there to be seen and not heard. I listened to the grown-ups drone on for ages about politics and the economy and snide remarks they pretended didn’t count as gossip. 

Eventually I managed to sneak outside, under the guise that I was using the women’s powder room. I hoped the fresh air would do me some good, maybe give me a bit of strength to power through the rest of the horrible evening.

“Not having fun in there?” A familiar voice asked. I turned to see James Potter. I hadn’t realized he was here tonight. In fact, I hadn’t realized anyone Hogwarts-aged was here besides me and Evan. I gave him a confused look. “I mean, it’s always been my dream to be paraded around like cattle,” he joked.

I let out a weak laugh and opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. 

“I’m sorry, you’d probably like to be alone right now, I can leave.” He starts toward the door to go back inside. 

“No it’s okay, you were here first. I can go back in.”

James pauses next to me. “I don’t mind the company if you don’t,” he offers. I consider him for a moment before deeming him harmless.

“I suppose as long as you’re sensible company,” I tease.

We stand together in silence for a moment.

“I know it’s a bit different, running into each other here, but you seem a bit… despondent tonight,” he says hesitantly.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve uh… Well if I tell you you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” I really shouldn’t trust him while I feel so vulnerable but the look in his eyes convinces me I can.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, taking a step closer to me.

“I really don’t know,” I admit quietly.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he swears.

My brows furrow and I can’t stop my lip from quivering. James takes another step toward me.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he offers.

“My parents are forcing me to marry Evan Rosier when we graduate,” I whisper. 

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh… I see.” I give a small nod. “I think I would feel rather despondent myself if I were in your shoes.” 

“I feel… as though a great axe has cracked into my chest and everything that I am is pouring out and every move I make to stop it the axe just tears into me more.”

“Oh, darling,” James says so softly it tears through me in a twisting pain.

“Please, James, you can’t tell a soul about this,” I nearly beg him. “I know that people will find out soon enough, but I just need some more time to come to terms first.” 

He nods in reassurance. “I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” 

We take in the night air for a few moments. The full moon is bright in the sky. James seems to revere it with disdain. 

“I know why Evan and I are here tonight, but not you. It seems everyone else is at least fifteen years our senior,” I say after a while.

“My dad is considering selling his business, I’m meant to be helping him scope out prospective buyers,” he explains. “Not so sure I’ve got his business acumen, or that I’m quite the right fit for modeling his product.” He gives me a goofy smile as he further ruffles up his hair. It somehow doesn’t look any more or less wild than before. I can’t help but smile back. “Usually my mum can help him charm the room, but she had to stay home tonight.” 

“Is she feeling alright?” I ask politely.

“No, yeah, she’s just fine. Sirius came down with a cold, though, and my mum wanted to stay home to take care of him.” 

I give him a confused look.

“Sirius, he… well he ran away from his parent’s last summer and he’s been staying with me and my folks since,” he clarifies. 

“Oh, I see.” I had known Sirius had run away from Regulus, but I didn’t realize he’d been staying with James’s family. “It sounds like he’s very lucky to have you and your family.”

James gives me a sad look because just like Sirius he understands. He looks like he’s about to say something, but I don’t know if I’m entirely prepared to hear whatever it may be.

“I should probably head back in,” I say quickly.

“Right, I should probably find my dad,” James agrees.

─

The next morning at breakfast I walk into the Great Hall and my eyes catch on the Marauders over at the Gryffindor table. Sirius’s eye catches mine and he gives me an encouraging smile. 

Evan sits next to me at the Slytherin table and I entirely ignore his existence. 

History of magic is my first class for the day and when I take my seat a note falls seemingly from the ceiling. It’s on a different type of paper than the notes Evan sends me, and there’s only a handful of other students in the classroom, so it's not flashy enough to be Evan. I peel it open to find an invite to meet at the green houses after classes, signed by James, Remus, and Sirius.

I quickly tuck the note into the pocket of my robes, but can’t help the smile I wear throughout the day, waiting for my rendezvous with the boys. 

─

I don’t know what to expect when I get there, but the boys are already waiting for me.

“What’s this about then?” I ask as I approach.

“It’s about having a bit of fun before you give yourself a hernia,” Sirius jokes.

The boys guide me through preparing a prank on the plant Evan has been growing for his herbology assignment. 

“This is so wrong, we could get in so much trouble for this,” I complain.

“But not if we don’t get caught, so move quicker, darling,” James says.

“Don’t you lot have another friend who usually helps you pull these foolish shenanigans off with?” I ask.

“You mean Peter,” Sirius confirms. “He’s been all head over heels for his new girlfriend Mary and she’s convinced him that pranks are childish.”

“They are childish,” I argue.

“Then why’re you helping?” Remus teases.

“I really shouldn’t be,” I start to set down the packet of seeds that I’d been sprinkling into the pot of Evan’s begonias. 

“Oh, but princess, he really deserves it,” Sirius says as he wraps his hand around mine to make me pick up the seed packet again. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm from his touch but I do my best to ignore it.

Several moments later I have thoroughly spread grass seeds into the soil. James reaches around me to pour some sort of quick-grow potion over the seeds. His chest brushes against my back and I pick up on the way he smells like fresh-cut grass and lemon verbena. I nearly lean back against him to smell more of it.

After our prank has been executed Remus places Evan’s pot back on its shelf exactly as it had been. Tomorrow when he comes to class he’ll find his begonias have turned a sickly brown and become overwhelmed with weeds. We sneak away and go a roundabout way to the castle so it doesn’t look like we’ve just come from the green houses.

A part of me knows that I really should split off now to go study, but I’m having so much fun with the boys that I walk with them through the castle as they banter back and forth, giving each other silly dares. I’ve lost track of time when the dinner bell rings, and I realize that I really should depart from them now.

Back in the Great Hall I take my usual seat and try not to look too happy. It becomes all too easy when Evan sits next to me again. 

Andromeda scowls at him and Narcissa gives me a nervous glance. 

“Will you just talk to me?” He asks, frustrated.

“What, like how you were talking with that Hufflepuff? I don’t think so,” I snap.

He clenches his fist around his fork. I don’t have to look around the table to know that we all pick up on it. 

“I don’t know why I even tried with you.” He rolls his eyes.

“I never asked you to,” I said coldly.

“It’s not like I asked either, you know.” My eyes dart around the table to see that everyone is listening very closely, while pretending to be focused on their meal.

With a sigh I turn to face Evan. 

“Then you should be glad to hear I won’t marry you.” His jaw clenches and I wait for him to blow up at me. He glances around the table himself to see all eyes on us. 

With a scoff and a muttered “whatever,” he storms off.

─

That night I toss and turn in bed before accepting that I won’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. I slip out of bed and pull my sneakers on. Something draws me to the night sky tonight and I want to get as close to it as possible, so I decide to sneak up to the astronomy tower. As I approach the landing I hear soft voices, and I worry there’s a class being held. I move quietly up, curious to see what’s going on. When I poke my head through the doorway I’m shocked to have run into familiar faces.

“Is that dovey?” Remus asks from where he sits, leaning against the half wall. I glance behind me, confused if he means me. When I look back he’s got a tired smile on his face. James is lying between his legs, resting his head on Remus’s thigh, and Sirius is wrapped around his arm with his head on Remus’s shoulder. They’re altogether a big tangle of long limbs and cozy embraces.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was up here,” I say quickly. It must be too loud because Sirius quickly shushes me. He then points to James’s face and I realize he’s actually asleep. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry,” I whisper. 

“S’all good,” Remus mumbles. “He’s probably already too heavily asleep. We’re lucky he isn’t snoring.” 

I let out a soft laugh. Remus and Sirius observe me and I feel awkward under their scrutiny. I’m just in an old pair of flannel pajamas. Thankfully the air hasn’t turned to crisp yet, but up this high a chill settles over my skin. 

Sirius tsks when he notices me rubbing my arm. He untangles himself from Remus and sits up a bit straighter. “C’mere, princess. I’ll keep you warm,” Sirius offers, holding his arm up for me to presumably sit next to him.

It must be the exhaustion finally wearing on me that has me lowering my inhibitions, but I sit next to Sirius albeit a bit stiff. He wraps his arm around me and jostles me a bit to lean into him. I can’t help the yawn that escapes me. With his other hand he reaches up to nudge my head until it's leaning on his shoulder. 

“What’re you doing up this late, princess?” Sirius asks. 

“M’not a princess,” I argue.

“You’re too pretty not to be,” he argues back. 

I’m taken aback by his words and am too tired to think of a witty response. “What’re you lot doing up this late?” I ask instead. 

“Tomorrow night’s a full moon,” Remus says on the other side of Sirius, as if it’s a perfectly logical explanation. 

“Does that make it a good night to stargaze?” I ask for clarity.

“Makes it a good night to be alive and not in pain,” he grumbles.

“What…?” I’m at a loss of words, entirely unsure how to respond.

“See that bright one, right there?” Sirius interjects. I accept his redirection without complaint considering Remus sounds like he might be about to fall asleep too and could be saying any sort of nonsensical things. 

“That one?” I point at the brightest star in the sky.

“Yeah, that one. It’s mine,” Sirius tells me.

“It’s yours? How’s that?” 

“Well it’s named after me.” His voice is mirthful as he says it.

“Being named after a star and having a star named after you are two very different things, Sirius,” I joke. 

“Nah, one and the same to me,” he teases back. 

“Whatever,” I murmur. My eyes start to droop and I can’t help leaning on Sirius just a bit more. A bit of his hair tickles my face and I notice the way he smells like sandalwood and violet. It feels safe, here with the boys.

Sirius says something back to me but it’s a distant, muffled sound as sleep pulls at the corners of my consciousness. 

I don’t know how long I’m asleep before I’m being gently woken up by James who kneels in front of me.

“Hey, there she is.” He gives me an encouraging smile. I give him a confused look and try to blink away the hazy edges of my vision. 

“Come on, princess, we ought to get you back to your dorm so you can have a proper sleep in your comfy bed,” Sirius says and I realize that I’ve been sleeping practically on top of him.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry.” I push off him. James helps me to stand up, then reaches down to help Sirius up. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask, stretching out a slight crick in my neck. 

Sirius glances at his watch. “Maybe half an hour. I was fighting to stay awake myself when Jamie woke up and started complaining about his back.”

I look up at James who makes a guilty face.

“Oh, don’t blame the poor boy,” Remus coos. “The concrete floor must not have been very comfortable.”

“Well why did he lay down like that in the first place then?” Sirius chides.

“It had felt comfy at first,” James says shyly.

“Please, you just wanted to be between Moony’s legs,” Sirius laughs. James and Remus both look shocked and glance nervously at me. My brows furrow in confusion. “Ah, shit, I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?” I ask. Suddenly I realized just how comfy the boys had been laying together before I interrupted. My cheeks flare up. 

“Dove…” Remus seems hesitant to say anything.

“Are you guys… what exactly were you guys doing up here?”

James’s winces and glances to Remus.

“Nothing like that, Sirius was just joking,” Remus says carefully.

“But you guys are comfortable together like that? Aren’t you?” They glance at each other, unsure how to proceed. “Were you guys on a date and I interrupted?” I ask, slightly horrified. “I am so, so sorry. I should─ I should go, I can’t believe I ruined your night.” I start to rush away.

“Wait, princess,” Sirius calls out and just manages to grab my wrist to stop me. It’s not a tight grasp, just enough to get my attention. I look into his grey eyes that seem to reflect the starlight back at me. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he promises.

“But you all were on a date?” I press.

He hesitates.

“I wouldn’t─ I won’t tell anyone.”

He glances behind me at Remus then back to me. 

“Yeah, we’re… The three of us…” Sirius doesn’t seem to know how to say it. 

“We’re together,” Remus says finally. Sirius drops my wrist. I move so that the three of them are all in front of me.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize any sooner,” I say, laughing at myself. They seem relieved by my reaction.

“Well that’s kind of the point,” James giggles.

“Oy, don’t be cheeky,” Remus chides. They all pause to observe me before seeming to all come to a conclusion. “Thank you, dove.”

“What for?”

“For… not freaking out, I guess,” Remus clarifies.

“Oh, well I mean yeah. The three of you are clearly happy together. I’m… I’m glad that you have each other.” They each give me a winning grin. Something pangs in my heart to realize they’re all already taken, and so clearly happy together, but I try to brush that off. 

“We should get you back down to your dorm,” James says after a moment.

Remus and Sirius are quick to agree and even though I want to argue I can get back to the dungeons on my own perfectly fine, I agree to let them walk back with me. A selfish part of me just wants to spend more time with them, even despite what I’d just learned.

─

Over the next month I find myself spending more and more time with the boys. Always in private, invited by an unsuspecting note. It doesn’t feel weird like I worried it might now that I know they’re all together romantically. In fact, it actually feels more right the more time I spend with them. 

About a week after Evan was caught macking on the Hufflepuff in the library, I got a letter from my mother that simply said the engagement was off. I don’t know how they found out as I never had written them, but I don’t question it with them anymore. That night the boys and I celebrated in their dorm by gorging on sweets from Honeydukes. Evan thankfully left me alone after that and would only occasionally interact with me, similar to before the engagement. 

If my friends thought my distance from them lately was weird they never gave any indication. Andromeda would inquire about my whereabouts, but I easily brushed it off as needing time to study in the library. 

Occasionally the boys will rope me into a silly prank, but for the most part we meander low-traffic areas of the castle and talk and play weird muggle games that Remus teaches us. 

Whatever weird emotions I had felt about learning that the boys were in a relationship together had worn off quickly. It must have merely been a bit of jealousy that they found something that made them happy, when I had almost been trapped in something that would make me miserable. 

─

The morning after a late night escapade to the lake with the boys I make my way to potions class. I’m barely staying awake, but excited for the day’s lesson. When I walk through the door I see that Amortentia has been written across the blackboard.

The whole class is abuzz while we work to brew our potions, everyone excited to see if their potion will work. Slughorn carefully supervises as we mix and stir. This is one of the classes I share with the self-proclaimed Marauders and I keep a careful eye that they don’t do anything tremendously wrong, but Remus is very careful in following the directions. I notice each of them stealing glances my way in turn.

Eventually, Slughorn makes his rounds to inspect our completed potions. Andromeda and I get the highest score in the class.

“Now do share with us what you can smell,” Slughorn instructs.

Andromeda goes first, leaning in to carefully smell our potion. “Hmm… It smells like cedarwood,” she pauses to smell it again, “juniper berry… and pineapple!”

“Ah! How exciting,” Slughorn proclaims. “And you?” He prompts me.

I lean over the cauldron to inhale deeply. “It’s very clean smelling,” I start. “And also florally, I’d say like violets and cut grass.” I breathe in again. “And it’s a bit… err─ I can’t quite place it,” I explain. I force myself to keep my gaze on Slughorn while the whole class watches me.

“Very good.” Slughorn gives a sharp nod. “Fifteen points to Slytherin.” 

He turns then to the table next to us and everyone’s attention shifts. I can’t help but glance toward Remus, who’s already staring straight at me.

He knows. 

Bloody hell he knows.

He knows that Sirius smells like violets and that James smells like cut grass.

Merlin now he’s going to think I’ve got feelings for his boyfriends. 

But it's worse than that because the last thing I could smell was cinnamon. Cinnamon like how Remus smells like cinnamon. 

Because I’ve got feelings for all of them.

[oaksgrove]

The Captain and the Captain; Mission Parameters: Undefined

pairing: Captain John Price x Captain!female!reader

synopsis: Task Force Echo joins forces with the legendary 141, leading to a whirlwind of first impressions, professional clashes, and undeniable chemistry. As Echo’s captain, you’re determined to hold your ground and prove your team’s worth—but the quiet intensity of one Captain John Price might just throw you off balance. Amid the tension of a high-stakes mission, connections begin to form, and you can’t help but wonder—what happens when the mission ends?

word count: 1619 

warnings: slow-burn romance, mutual pining, and plenty of team banter.

Team’s Diary – Entry 42

Captain [Your Name]

Task Force Echo

Date: Classified

Location: Joint Base with Task Force 141

Dear Diary (It’s still childish how we address this. But Hayes forces us to…),

Well, where do I even begin? Today was a whirlwind. For starters, Echo is officially working with 141. Yes, the Task Force 141. The legendary team with their notorious reputations. And let me tell you, first impressions were… let’s just say memorable.

The initial briefing was tense. You could practically cut the air with a knife. I could feel Price’s eyes on me as soon as I walked into the room. It wasn’t hostile—more like curious. He’s got that air of authority, like he’s sizing you up without saying a word. I wasn’t going to back down, though. Our task force has earned its stripes just like theirs, and I’ll be damned if anyone thinks otherwise.

The introductions were quick, and somehow it still felt like a standoff. Lieutenant Hayes, ever the charmer, gave Soap a wink that nearly had me rolling my eyes out of my skull. Soap, to his credit, looked delighted. He leaned toward Ghost and whispered something, probably cheeky, judging by the smirk that spread across his face.

Speaking of Ghost… God, that man is intimidating. He loomed silently in the corner like some specter, his unreadable mask fixed on us the entire time. If I hadn’t caught Sergeant Holt’s subtle side-eye, I would’ve thought I was the only one unnerved. “He’s just a bloke in a mask,” I told myself. Yeah, right. A bloke who feels like he could break the world in two if he wanted.

And Gaz? He was the warmest of the lot, polite and curious. Lieutenant Miller was quick to match his energy, chatting about anything and everything—well, as much as they could while keeping it professional. If anyone’s going to become fast friends, it’s those two.

I won’t lie, Diary: this is going to be a challenge. Task Force Echo has always been about precision, discipline, and efficiency. We don’t waste time on bravado. 141, on the other hand, seems to thrive on controlled chaos. Soap was cracking jokes left and right, and while I hate to admit it, even Hayes was snickering.

Price seemed to watch it all with a quiet kind of amusement, but when it came time to plan, he was all business. The man has a presence, I’ll give him that. And his strategies? Sharp. He doesn’t miss a beat.

Still, there was this moment—when we were discussing infiltration routes—where our hands brushed as we reached for the same map. It was nothing, really, but I caught him looking at me. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made my stomach do a little flip. Pull it together, Captain.

I think Hayes is going to fall head over heels for Soap, if she hasn’t already. I caught her laughing at one of his awful jokes during lunch, and I swear I haven’t seen her laugh that hard in months. It’s endearing, really.

Holt is harder to read, but I think Ghost intrigues her. She’s always been drawn to the quiet, mysterious types, and he certainly fits the bill. She didn’t say much, but I noticed the way her gaze lingered when he spoke during the briefing.

Miller, bless her, is already planning to adopt Gaz as her new best friend. They bonded over a shared love of tea and British sitcoms within five minutes of meeting.

And me? Well, I’d be lying if I said Price didn’t leave an impression. He’s so steady, so composed—it’s hard not to respect that. But it’s the moments in between, the small glances and the way his voice softens when he addresses me, that stick with me. I don’t know what to make of it yet, and I doubt I’ll have time to figure it out.

This mission is going to push all of us to our limits. Echo and 141 are two very different beasts, but maybe that’s a good thing. We complement each other in ways I didn’t expect.

For now, I’ll focus on the mission. But Diary, I can’t help wondering—what happens when the mission is over?

-

The soft scratch of your pen came to a stop as you finished the entry. You leaned back in the chair, your eyes lingering on the last line. What happens when the mission is over? You closed the diary gently, running your fingers over the worn cover. Hayes might tease you about writing these entries, but it gave you clarity—a way to navigate the chaos of your work.

Sliding the diary into your desk drawer, you straightened your shoulders and took a steadying breath. Echo’s bunk area was quiet, save for the hum of voices drifting in from the common room. The sound pulled you out of your thoughts, grounding you.

As you walked into the main area, the scene that greeted you was both familiar and oddly comforting. Task Force Echo and 141 were scattered across the room, a mosaic of personalities and energies. Hayes was seated on the arm of the couch, leaning a little too close to Soap, who looked far too pleased with himself. Gaz and Miller were deep in conversation, their shared laughter punctuating the room. Holt sat nearby, her expression unreadable, though her gaze occasionally flicked toward Ghost, who loomed quietly at the edge of the group.

And then there was Price.

He stood near the corner, his hands resting on his hips as he observed the room with a quiet intensity. The light from the overhead fixture cast warm tones over his features, highlighting the streaks of silver in his beard. He turned his head slightly, and his eyes met yours.

You froze for a moment, caught in the gravity of his gaze. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the weight behind it. Steady. Calculated. Like he was seeing more than you meant to show.

You nodded at him, a small acknowledgment, and his lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. It was subtle, so fleeting you might have missed it if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

“Oi, Cap!” Soap’s voice broke the moment, pulling your attention. “Come join us. We’re just getting Echo to spill all their embarrassing stories.”

You arched a brow, smirking as you made your way toward the group. “Good luck with that, Sergeant. Echo’s tight-lipped.”

Hayes shot you a mischievous look. “Don’t listen to her, Captain. I’ve got plenty of stories about her.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you warned, but there was no heat in your tone.

The room buzzed with easy camaraderie, a surprising blend of Echo’s precision and 141’s controlled chaos. Yet, even in the midst of the chatter, you felt the pull of Price’s gaze.

He hadn’t moved from his spot, though he was now nursing a cup of tea. Every so often, his eyes would flick to you, as if he were cataloging your movements, your words, your presence. And though you tried not to, you found your own gaze drifting back to him.

Gaz noticed first. He elbowed Soap, nodding subtly toward the two of you. Soap’s grin widened, and he leaned closer to Hayes. “Looks like your Captain and ours have a bit of a staring contest going on.”

Hayes followed his line of sight, her brow lifting in realization. “Really? That’s... interesting.”

You caught the tail end of their hushed conversation and narrowed your eyes. “What are you whispering about over there?”

“Nothing at all, Cap,” Soap said, far too innocently.

“Right,” you drawled, crossing your arms. “You’re all far too quiet for my liking.”

Miller chimed in, her grin conspiratorial. “I don’t know, Captain. It seems like some people are more focused on certain... individuals in the room.”

The implication was clear, and your face heated slightly. “Focus on the mission, Lieutenant,” you said firmly, though the corner of your mouth twitched with amusement.

Price cleared his throat from across the room, drawing everyone’s attention. “Enough,” he said, his tone calm but commanding. “Leave your Captain alone.”

The room fell silent for a beat before Hayes let out a low whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely defending her.”

Price shot her a warning look, but there was no denying the faint amusement in his eyes. He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before taking another sip of his tea.

The conversation shifted after that, the teasing dying down as the groups broke off into smaller clusters. But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Price’s gaze, nor the warmth it left in its wake.

As the room began to clear, you found yourself lingering, tidying up stray cups and papers. Price approached quietly, his steps measured.

“You handled that well,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “They’re a handful, but they mean well.”

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and resonant. “That they are.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you thick with something unspoken.

“You’re a good leader,” he said finally, his gaze steady. “Echo’s lucky to have you.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a high compliment,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended.

His lips curved into a faint smile. “Just speaking the truth.”

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. And as you stood there, the distance between you narrowing ever so slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder if the mission wasn’t the only thing worth pursuing after all.

part 2 here!

[djarin]

@usergif new year, new fonts: day 1 – layer styles

You and I burned out our steam Chasing someone else's dream Darling, we sacrificed We gave our time to something undefined

[thought--bubble]

Aemond Fic Recs

This one will be kind of long but all of these stories are really good!

Back to my Masterlist

Aemond fic recs

Page 1,

☣ @arcielee☣

We Gave our Time to Something Undefined

Zȳha lyks

☣ @marthawrites☣

Knees

Greed

Darkened Corridors

A Ladies Thrill

Teaching a Dragon New Tricks

Red Lions and Hidden Dragons

A Surprise in the Library

☣ @sepherinaspoppies☣

Whatever May Come Series (Dark Aemond)

Only if for a Night (AU Aemond)

☣ @barbieaemond☣

Iron on Silk

Lykiri

☣ @vsnyarbll☣

I Never Want This to End

The Wound on his Hand

☣ @namelesslosers☣

How long can we be a sad song

A Moment Everybody Knows

A Worthy Exchange (Aemond / Hunger Games AU)

☣ @targaryen-dynasty☣

A Caution for Young Girls

Depravities

Sinful Revenge (Aemond/Aegon)

Lechery

A Dragon to Share (Aemond/Aegon/Daemon)

The Curse of Curiosity

To Stoke a Flame

Dragon Dreams

Rewrite the stars

Forbidden Temptation

Serenity & Can you stay up all night?

☣ @troublesomesnitch☣

Uneasy Lies the Head (Aemond/Aegon)

☣ @the-dendrophile-bookdragon☣

Knife Play

Braids

☣ @aemonds-fire☣

Lady, Wife, Whore, Woman

The Sapphire Spell Series (Ghost Aemond)

Your exquisite suffering calls to me

☣ @happilyhertale☣

Emerald Eyes

Battlefield of Women

Morning Delight

☣ @sylasthegrim☣

To Love and Cherish

Solace in the Silence (Aemond/Otto)

The present is an interlude

The Romance of certain old clothes

☣ @tumblin-theworldaway☣

Heir

Prey

☣ @st-eve-barnes☣

By Your Side

☣ @adragonprinceswhore☣

Warm Me Up

☣ @flowerandblood☣

Stay and Love, Leave and Die

Flowers & Thorns & Hopes and prayers(sequel)

☣ @zaldritzosrose☣

Sanguine Obsession

☣ @almondmilktargaryen☣

A son for a son (a debt paid)

☣ @ewanmitchellcrumbs☣

NSFW Alphabet (Headcannons)

Cockwarming Drabble

Asshekhqoyi Vezhvena

Fall Into Me

Relaxing Drabble

Choiceless in Grief

☣ @anjelicawrites☣

Nipple Piercing drabble (Osferth/Aemond)

☣ @exitpursuedbyavulcan☣

Studious

☣ @sapphire-writes☣

Flowers

☣ @venmondiese☣

Playing with fire & Burning Fire

☣ @ladythornofrivia☣

My Scavenger (Star wars Crossover)

☣ @wackyharpy☣

A Small Appetence

☣ @fairysluna☣

Truly Yours

☣ @madame-fear☣

Chasing the flame of my desire

☣ @superprincesspea☣

Ghost

☣ @kckt88☣

Demon in my dreams

☣ @cluz1babe☣

NSFW Alphabet

☣ @youraverageaemondsimp☣

Incomprehensible Horror

☣ @kate-mccannon☣

The Art of Intimacy

Last Updated 2/15/25

[selineabanto]

we gave our time to something undefined

[the-depths-au]

Thank you guys so much!! It’s been a little under a year since I started writing the depths and I am forever grateful and touched by the response to this story. I wanted to do a follower milestone that celebrated the origins of this story—the mini comic for linktober 2023. Music is a big part of my creative process and I have an entire Spotify playlist for this story, so I thought it might be cool to do art featuring lyrics from a song I’ve linked to a part of the story or a character’s arc…and you guys get to pick! Choose wisely… you might get a sneak peak at things to come!

I’ve included the lyrics I would focus on under the cut for reference!

Featured lyrics under cut!

Where is my home?/ I don't recognize the faces anymore, no/ Where is my friend?/ The one I've known since I was only just a kid/ I think it's time to say goodbye/ Goodbye, goodbye

“Goodbye”–Ramsey

You got a lonesome road to walk/ And it ain't along the railroad track/ And it ain't along the blacktop tar/ You've walked a hundred times before/ I'll tell you where the real road lies/ Between your ears, behind your eyes/ That is the path to Paradise/ Likewise, the road to ruin

“Wait for Me (Reprise)” – Hadestown

You and I burned out our steam/ Chasing someone else's dream/ How can something be so much heavier/ But so much less than what it seems?/ Darling, we sacrificed/ We gave our time to something undefined/ This phantom life/ Sharpens like an image/ But it sharpens like a knife

“Who We Are” – Hozier

This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow / I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope / I know it's my fault that I'm here all alone / This world is a wasteland / Please let me go

“Wasteland”–Royal and the Serpent

[apeninastory]

ivan as a tragic-love character (pt.4c?) (nowhere edition)

Part 2 here. I RE-READ THIS A COUPLE OF TIMES BUT HONESTLY MY BRAIN IS SO FRIED I AM NOT SURE WHAT THIS POST CONTAINS. i may have exagerated and also forgotten something, but there is at least another post abt ivan waiting, soooo...

omg i feel like i could write a whole book abt ivan, i swear. i am finally where i wanted to be - the new song, the one that took over my brain and that i kinda want to listen to in repeat for the rest of my life.

and mind you - this is "Ivan Part 1". PART. 1. WTAF.

9] nowhere.

this is probably the moment nowhere is born. ivan's hypocris and dissonance gave birth to this - which may be why the lore of this CD tells us it was found by chance, stored in Anakt Lost and Found Center and recorded as sold by an unknown donor. that means, he probably composed, wrote and recorded nowhere back in anakt, before graduation - though i like the idea of ivan composing this after it, in the period of time he didn't see till, mizi and sua, a period where memories might have taken over his mind and made him nostalgic, restless.

[who is the unknown donor and why is it ivan himself?]

i feel like it is much more personal and raw than black sorrow, and since i am obsessed with ivan, i can't resists its call - it is now my favourite among all the alnst tracks.

the cover.

this is, like, the first step. where the tears start.

it is not our first time seeing little ivan from the slums-arc, but every time, it feels like a punch on the face. the little snaggletooth is there, he is dirty and wears worn out (lab?) clothes and his eyes are so so empty, i can barely stand looking at him without crying.

another important element: the small feet belonging to one of the kids - toes are missing. did those, dunno, froze and got removed? did adults/aliens remove them to torture the kid/make him incapable of running away/as a punishment of sort? no idea. as i said, i love the idea of ivan being born in an illegal factory for pet humans - it would fit so so well - born as a commodity from the very beginning.

like, how much more miserable do i want my baby to be? yes.

the title.

it's nowhere, but for the cover they went like "no, let's play something" and split it in now here. obvious question: why?

nowhere is undefined - it's a no-place, it means "not in or to any place; not anywhere". it might suggest ivan's lack of a sense of belonging, again, the insecurity that comes with not having a stable life - practically and emotionally.

now here is a bit more defined - here is a place, but where, exactly? and is it only a place or more a situation, a moment, a condition? probably both - like, "now i am here, doing this, being this, within this situation and that's it". the song should tell us more!

the lyrics.

and then the music starts.

In love with you When you were mine In love with you (reverse?) In love Love Love always You In love Love always

wow. just - mindblowing.

this is Ivan's solo, his own song, like hyuna's drunk & party and love & peace. the appearance of the world love is incredibly important, but i don't think it defines the theme of the whole song.

what it does is set the pov - this song is written/composed in a moment where ivan: already knows this word + thinks he knows what it means (and links it to till).

the fact that these verses sound radio-like, distant, as if ivan is listening to them instead of actively singing. it creates a gap between them and the rest of the song. it feels like he is composing the song in a moment when he already knows is love is doomed, so he rewinds back to his own origins and speaks abt himself. the song is written by a Ivan who already knows everything, so we can find traces of "future events" in verses of the song that are supposedly about the past.

these words also sound distorted - love is not sweet sounding and charming and light, like my clematis, nor it is energetic and hopeful like unknown until the end, with till wishing to know more and singing abt his resilience. no. in nowhere, love is raspy and numb and has darker hues - it is obsessive, haunting, just like how these verses resound for the entire song in the background.

they sound like a condemnation and a reminder: ivan loves, can't help but love, has no choice but to love, is condemned to love, chose actively to love. they also sound like he is drilling the word into the listener's head by repeating to it non-stop, in an obsessive cycle.

Nowhere, from beginning to end a stained history It freely chatters away That always happens to me

Key words: history, beginning to end. i already said many times, but ivan is a narrator. this is the starting point of ivan's story, ivan's realities, both the one he begins to write abt himself (or tries to) and the one from where we can glimpes at the real ivan. the lyrics might have started with "once upon a time there was a black-haired boy..." and get the same effect. he recounts a history (his own) that is real to him, that mirrors his life - but we can't totally believe him. let's keep this in mind!

we know this story ends in black, with an empty spot and blood (black soooorroooooow), but how does it start? this song has references to ivan's past and life at anakt, so it was probably written slighlty before graduation (since the CD was found in anakt warehouse and an unregistered track - how ivan recorded it is a mystery, but we know he has knowledge and priviledges other do not have). either that, or after graduation/before alien stage, and he somehow found a way to sneak the CD there.

that is probably why he writes "from beginning to end, a stained history": he remembers the beginning and is in a position where he can already predict the end of the story - stained, never pure, since the very start, as if his life was destined to be like that.

what abt the "freely chatters away" verse? i'm not sure, because how can someone's history chatter away? i think we can see it as "it freely chatters away from my mouth", like this story spills from ivan easily, like he can easily build lies for the sake of keeping this illusion, this mask he has, going. the expression apparently indicates someone speaking fluidly, in a relaxed way, but also rambling for a long time. it may suggest that, while from the outside ivan looks smooth and collected, from his point of view this is all rambling, it's the fictional-ivan he created for the sake of the society he lives in - a ivan he needs and uses and maybe resents.

"that always happens to me" reinforces the "beginning to end" part of the song - he is singing abt a common theme in his life in a dejected tone, resigned, like he knows/feels he can't do anything abt it and is okay with it. the stain is permanent and he is destined to "that".

Nowhere, rose-tinted rigid dream and hope It's stained with blood That's just how it is That always happens to me

this is where it gets super super interesting. if in the previous part ivan was warning us abt this being a story (his story and/or the story he is writing abt himself), we are now within ivan's narration.

ivan is still nowhere, but we have some coordinates: a "rigid dream and hope" dyed in rosy hues. he tells us about the existence of a dream immersed in a light, delicate color - the color of stereotypical love/affection (?), of beautiful things. also, this dream/hope is rigid, which is not very dream-like or hopeful.

contrasting images, how fitting for our living oxymoron!

a dream may be something that is commonly regarded as beautiful and ideal (a dream), but that for ivan is rigid - forced? unnatural? a dream he has to fit in in order to survive/blend in/function in the society he finds himself in, perhaps. i explained how other kids at anakt see him and how he makes himself friendlier and smilier. this may be it.

we could also make it abt romantic love. maybe ivan is trying to fit into a vision of love he can't fully embrace/mirror, so he perceives it as stiff. i hope i'm about to phrase it in the right way, but a nice example might be the contrast between mainstream and/or hetero depiction of love vs lgbt depiction of love. ivan being (canonically?) gay gives this idea even more credit - in a normal world, without aliens, surrounded by ways of loving ivan doesn't identify in, this sentence presents his discomfort abt not fitting in stereotypical love.

of course alnst!ivan doesn't have that benefit, but i think this discourse may work as some sort of parallelism: ivan can't love the way he sees other people love. take mizi and sua, for example. in ivan's eyes, they fit the "rose-tinted dream and hope", it is not "stiff" if he puts them in it, then he thinks about himself, abt how he loves (loves till) and it doesn't work anymore.

[we could associate it to till's depiction of love - the rosy hues of this dream are not to be intended as stereotypical, but as the ideal love till wants (sees in mizi) and ivan can't give - perhaps, but i'd like to focus on ivan]

"it's stained with blood", here we come to the stained history from before - stained with what? eh. ivan's life started with blood and ended with blood (his own), but also the blood of humanity, of the people he meets, also destined to a bloody end because of the world they live in. a rosy dream, a rosy hope, the blabbering wonders of a young mind end in red, in blood, and the contrast is as good as it is painful. what is the point of trying to fit in an illusion like that when he already knows what the end will be? that's why his story was stained from the beginning - the end was clear as day since ivan's first opened his eyes.

yeah. "that's just how it is", after all, from ivan's pov. he is resigned to it, so the illusion gives him no comfort, prevents him from fitting in. and again, it is something that always happens to him. what is it? not belonging. he is nowhere, in a story written by him that is stained since the beginning (his birth) to the end (his death), a story with no hope of redemption or finding better condition - a story where not even a dream can give him hope.

My sky, shaped by the world doesn't even let me stand under it I lay down and look at yesterday's daydream, all torn up

i love this part. okay.

"my sky" - the sky is something everyone has above their head. it's just there, no matter the planet. adding "my" kinda gives it something poetic abt it, as if the narrator is not reffering to the sky, but a particular something/someone that can be equated to the sky. while this is a possible interpretation

[again, the sky and the color teal resonate with each other, it is an interesting way of fitting till here, but it's not only that!]

we need to dig a bit more. how many skies did ivan see? the one in the slums - glimpses between rundown buildings -, the night sky before his auction, the fake baby blue at anakt, the red metor shower sky with till, the (fake?) one above the stage he died on. what do the have in common? all are concessions/creations given to him by others. adding "my" makes it interesting, because the sky is not something that can belong to a person, but we know ivan feels a connection with what the sky holds.

"shaped by the world" - that's why he added this. it is "his" sky in the measure which it was shaped by someone/something else. his birth, aliens, till, these are all entities that influenced the "sky" ivan claims as "his", as if to say "i can't have the whole thing because so many have taken it away from me/have limited the sky i could reach".

"doesn't even let me stand under it" - not only that, not only the slice of sky he can have is limited, his sky (this remaining slice) doesn't even accept him. how heart-breaking is this? because we know the sky isn't guilty - this is how ivan perceives himself. he feels rejected by people and by the world, as if it was saying to him that he shouldn't have been born. after all, if the sky does't let him stand under it, what place does ivan have left?

this speaks to me abt his authentic inability to belong. while i think we can say that it is not true that he is unwanted, it is not true that the world rejects him, i can sure understand why he sees himself like that - abandoned, ill threated, sold off, "unloved", used as a commodity. his view of himself, crooked as it is, is not baseles.

he can't have a physical place - so he creates his own reality.

saying "I lay down and look at yesterday's daydream, all torn up" makes me think abt little ivan, back on the ground, staring up the same way we would lay on grass and watch the clouds move.

"yesterday" - we can take it literally, so the day prior, of more figuratively, it may refer to the past. the story progresses: there was a time when ivan used to have dreams, maybe rose-tinted, maybe those same dreams he can't fit in now, and he regards them now as something from the past, from which he now distance himself

"daydream" - these were not unconscious dreams made at night, but dreams he conjured willingly, his own narrative, the story of the ivan he wanted to be all tangled in this song.

"all torn up" - like he knows better, now, than to abandon himself to them. they are all torn up, probably by the awareness that they are dreams, and that ivan can't fit in.

ivan is talking abt the attempt at dreaming he made when he was young, and abt his discovery/awareness that it doesn't work for him. let's think of the meteor shower event with till. by escaping with him, ivan tried to fit into till's dream (freedom), but failed. so he stares at this, at his "yesterday's daydreams", and replays them in his mind.

does this mean he stops dreaming? honestly, i don't think so. ivan is a hopeless romantic (not strictly related to love, but "of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality"), a drama queen, a narrator. part of the frustration this song suggest may be related to the fact that despite knowing it is useless, he can't help but doing it.

welcome to humanity, baby! human beings and their souls crave for art.

Fly far, far away Never, never again Come back to me Because it's easier to forget It's so typical Typical to me

although not explicitly said, it appears that here ivan is not talking to himself, seems to be referring to a "you". he doesn't have problems with mentioning himself in the lyrics (happens to me, my sky, I lay down), so it must mean something!

i am a bit torn, here, because it could still mean that he (present ivan) is speaking to little ivan. like he wants to chase away his vulnerable and inexperienced past self, so distant from the ivan he became and needs to be in order to live in relative peace until the end. "fly away from my mind, don't let me reminesh, don't let me remember, forgetting is easier, safer, as i am used to force myself to live survive in ignorance". he could also be asking him(self) to escape, at least within the dream - to go far, far away, in a safe place, so not to experience what he had.

but. in love with you, when you were mine. daydreams and hope and blood stains, a sky that doesn't want him... it feels like ivan isn't only at war with himself, but with a different stain, a different imprint, a different someone. the robotic voice is still there, in the background, like a reminder that this is not only about the ivan-self.

ivan is trying to get rid of something.

he is inviting that something to go away, or maybe chasing it away from him, to safety. imagine that something is a someone. imagine that someone is till. now take these words and make them abt till: "fly away from my mind, don't let me reminesh, don't let me remember, forgetting is easier, safer, as i am used to force myself to live survive in ignorance". what if he is telling till to go away becausse he doesn't want to hurt him with his words and behaviour anymore? what if he also doing it for himself? because if ivan doesn't think abt till, if he doesn't think abt the meteor shower, if he doesn't think about alien stage being the place where one of them will probably have to die, he can put all his efforts into his performance and win. we know he can - r3 ended with him making 90 points. till is good, but r6, absent-minded till? ivan could win. it's just that in the end, he can't.

i like both interpretation, because they both force ivan to face parts of himself he probably doesn't like or can't accept or even better, can't understand.

Wake up, wake up In my overwhelming daily life Is it for real? An existence like dust I can't stand to look at it Close my eyes And my mind

"wake up" - he is talking to himself now. as i said, i don't think adult ivan stops dreaming just because he can't abandon himself to his daydreams the way others do. the point his, waking up is like a slap in the face for him - his daily life is overwhelming: medical experimentations, lessons, alien stage awaiting him, songs to record, death, and what remains of him? "an existence like dust"

he can't stand the idea of keeping his eyes on it. he can't find refuge in the dream (so he turns off his mind), he can't find solace in reality (so he closes his eyes). are you starting to get why the song is called nowhere?

Worse and worse This painful wound I become more and more numb In the dark City lights I Can't find anyone Anyone Anyone

the "painful wound" can be a a trauma (his past, threatment at anakt, meteor shower) or simply a mix of everything - it can be his whole life, perceived as a festering wound he can't heal from, that makes him number and number to everything, both dream and reality. the darkness has lights, but no one in sight.

Nowhere, from beginning to end a stained history With that revolting tooth That always happens to me

the chorus repeats, but with a variant - "With that revolting tooth", the saggletooth we and the alien public all love.

hatred toward himself - ivan is incredibly critical of himself, but not in a neautral, objective way. he finds this detail of him "revolting", which is too strong a word and confirms that he cannot be objective when it comes to himself. baby, you are beautiful???? NOTHING is revolting abt you. what the hell.

it may be a reminder of something that happened to him in the slums, though. a trauma, a critica, tortures? i wish i knew!

Nowhere, seeped in purple rigid dream and hope It's stained with blood That's just how it is That always happens to me

his dream and hope take a different hue - purple. it is getting darker, if we think they were initially tinted in a rose-colour. it feels like his daydream is maturing, that there is a temporal shift, so while his first daydreams were rosy, growing up they became purplish. heading toward black?

That's just the kind of kid he is, so laugh Laugh, because he can't do anything No one cares about someone like him There's nowhere in the world for him to rest That's just how he is

another super interesting part. look at the change in subject: he.

i wrote abt ivan's dissonance, his splitting in two, the frustration he feels with himself. i also said he is trying to get rid of something, and it makes a lot of sense that that something is the side of himself he resents/can't understand/can't reason with.

notice how the way he sings this and the next part gets quicker, more raspy, less elegant. it feels like a punch in the face with how intense it is. ivan sounds resentful. not angry, maybe - his voice is soft, haunting, resigned for most of the song, but here? he is letting it all go. he is venting, releasing. "there is nothing to do, kid, things are bound to stay the way they were, the way they are, so just laugh and keep smiling because no one will ever care about you. don't even try, don't look for a place to be, this is how things are and no amount of dreams/efforts will change things up."

so. he is talking to himself. nowhere is a letter to his past self - little ivan, lost between the slums, his daydreams and the hope to be loved. his tone grows louder, more livelier for a moment, because he is feeling it all.

He's smooth, flexible, quite easy Just go past it like it doesn't bother you It's nothing, shake it off and stand tall Again, it's nothing, shake it off and stand tall Like nothing happened

and after talking to himself, he mentions till. i can't fit the English sentence here as something ivan tells himself/kid ivan, it is far from how he perceives himself. the sentence is also in English, so it's like he is highlighting the change in subject.

that's why he reminds himself "don't bother, don't think, ignore it all, forget that it all happened". what? the meteor shower. it comes back to that as a moment where not only till, the whole dream of ivan being able to fit in splits and falls apart - the starting point of the dissonance that will lead ivan to composing this song.

Wake up, wake up In my beautiful life Is it for real? An existence like dust I can't stand to look at it Close my eyes And my mind

the dream has collapsed, so back to reality - the reality he built for himself, where he can control things. this life is beautiful, but it is obviously a lie, because his existence is still like dust, and he still needs to keep eyes and mind closed.

the wound keeps festering - the reality he builds for himself is to have the illusion of a place to stay, but not a mind-numbing one. he knows he doesn't belong, doesn't pretend to find a place for himself, that's why the rest of the verses are the same. it's still him and he is still aware, but there is a disillusioned acceptance to his role.

Nowhere, from beginning to end A festering histerie With these cruel lips That always happens to me

this is also where the anger and loathing he feels toward himself most emerge, i think.

"festering" reminds us of the wound ivan lives with, the one that keeps hurting and keeps him numbed to the pain, but here it is linked to hysteria ("exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement"). so it really is something ivan feels he can't keep under control. perhaps, the process of putting all this darkness in a song was meant to be cathartic.

"with those cruel lips" makes me wanna scream. because even though i logically link this to ivan and to what he said abt himself in this comic, the song keeps presenting us with instances where we can link some verses to till instead - ivan has been cruel to him, from ivan's pov, but maybe, a part of ivan also blames till for cruelly ignoring him and his sorrow.

Nowhere, seeped in black rigid dream and hope It's stained with blood That's just how it is That always happens to me That always happens to me That always happens to me

"seeped in black"!!!!! darkness fell, ivan's heart is still once more, he is once again in control - resigned to his fate, or better, the fate he assigned himself.

"black" winks at black sorrow - and perhaps this is the moment ivan began to plan his willing demise.

this may also be why the cover says "now here": ivan is here, in pre-alien stage, with this song in his hands, with these memories freshly extracted from his mind, freshly recollected. he disposes of it all and goes back to the short life that remains him, the chaos in his head appeased, the confusion numbed, ready to head toward the black end.

° * °

ivan is presented with all these contrasts and complications and differences between what he would have wanted to be (his dream) and what his reality has to offer (till loving mizi, ivan loveless and unlovable, a death game with an inevitable ending).

i thought nothing hurt more than black sorrow, but this song is painfully ivan. it couldn't have gotten more personal than this, and it makes my heart ache so much.

this is the song the pictures ivan most perfectly. this is also the song ivan never wanted us, everyone, to find. the dissonance and hypocrisis in himself grew to a point that he probably needed to let it out - and what's the best way to do it for someone like ivan who seldom even feels like needing to let it all out? music. he has been studying it profoundly, knows it can be cathartic - has seen his friends, especially till, use music as a medium for emotions, both controlled and bottled up.

he composes and writes this to be abt himself - maybe abt his friends, maybe against the system -, but he does and narrates himself the way he sees himself, the ivan that he thinks he is. we know he is an unreliable narrator, and the song tells us exactly that: this is ivan, someone who can't be trusted when describing himself, so in a way, the unreliability is ivan's most accurate portrait.

he probably felt naked after recording this, so i have a strong feeling ivan himself disposed of it - that is why it was "found" in a warehouse - as the song is ivan's story, but also a cry against the system for making him like this and a love/hate letter, to till and to himself. he couldn't let anyone find it before his death, now, could he?

PART 4!

[deerest-deer]

darling, we sacrificed

we gave our time to something undefined

this phantom life sharpens like an image

but it sharpens like a knife.

[arcielee]

My House of the Dragons masterlist. Please be mindful of each story's tags and warnings!

modern Aemond masterlist modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Warnings: Please be mindful of the warnings for each story! Author’s Note: Just a masterlist of my ever-growing modern Aemond Targaryen stories. Enjoy! 💜

A love that burns. Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader [third person] Summary: Aemond is a man obsessed and you are the object of his unwavering devotion.

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Ābrazȳrys dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader Summary: Aemond goes to see is the king is truly dead and finds his wife instead.

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dōna mandia Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader x Aegon Targaryen [third person] Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game.

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Hae iksā Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Summary: Aemond has been tasked to find himself a wife.

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ilībio Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: Aemond finds comfort in your cunt.

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Zȳha lyks Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Summary: You find an ally with the second son of King Viserys.

She Walks in Starlight Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone Summary: Greek mythology HotD AU, some Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone slow burn.

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The Dragon and the Wolf - WIP Aemond Targaryen x Stark!reader Summary: “...perhaps the fire of a Targaryen prince is what is needed to thaw out your heart.”

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Ours never knew peace. Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader [first person] Summary: On the morning of the Great Tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna Stark's granddam visits to give her an heirloom, a necklace with a sapphire stone...

There's not one thing that I would change. Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader [first person] Author's Note: This is what was implied, the smutty interlude that granddam could not read out loud to Lyanna.

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Quietly, it slips through your fingers - Part 1 Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen Summary: Rhaena confronts Aemond after dinner.

We gave our time to something undefined - Part 2 Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen Summary: Aemond receives a late night visitor.

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Only If For A Night Aemond Targaryen x Female! Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You find comfort in your husband's brother.

The Sapphire Prince Aemond Targaryen x OFC!Stark Summary:  A Targaryen prince falls for Cregan Stark’s sister and it sets to tear apart the Hightower’s devise.

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Call It Dreaming Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: You have a delightful sex dream.

modern Aegon masterlist modern Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Warnings: Please be mindful of the warnings for each story! Author’s Note: Just a masterlist of my ever-growing modern Aegon Targaryen stories. Enjoy! 💜

Call It Dreaming Aegon Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: You have a delightful sex dream.

+ + + +

Only If For A Night Aemond Targaryen x Female! Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You find comfort in your husband's brother.

dōna mandia Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader x Aegon Targaryen [third person] Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game.

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Fare Well Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends.

dōna riña Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x Female!Reader Summary: You are enraptured by the prince and princess.

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ānogar Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader Summary: Your husband helps comfort you.

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Aōhon iksan Daeron Targaryen x Female!Reader [third person] Summary: Daeron has come back from Oldtown to play his role in King’s Landing and marry one of the Four Storms.

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At last, when all of the world is asleep Ser Erryk Cargyll x Dornish!Reader Summary:  A Dornish princess is the siren call to break the vows of the Kingsguard.

Devotion Ser Erryk Cargyll x Targaryen!Reader Summary: You are a Targaryen princess with an infatuation on a certain White Cloak.

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A night of pleasure. Ser Gwayne Hightower x Female!Reader Summary: Ser Gwayne decides on you.

gifs by @mojogifs || arcie's navigation

[playbucky]

Navy Boy, Army Girl // 2

Three army medics have been stationed on the ship that Hangman and Rooster have been stationed on for the past month. Y/N and her team have been placed in the middle of the ocean as a half-way marker for any seriously injured soldiers.  Characters – Reader (Ghost), OC Abi, OC Jenkins, Hangman, Rooster, Phoenix.  Word Count – 2.9k. Part 1.

Fourteen Months Later.  ‘Sergeant Major.’ He called, your head lifted, and you looked at him.  ‘Yes Sir?’ You asked. ‘The trainees are here.’ He announced, you arched an eyebrow and straightened.  ‘Trainees?’ You quizzed.  ‘The navy, you’re in charge of them and the training they need to complete.’ He said, you rubbed your lips together before you nodded. He gave you a stiff nod before turned and walked away. You sighed and tilted your head back, the gruelling sun shone down on you.  ‘Lieutenant.’ You called when you spotted the younger man, he stopped and turned to you.  ‘I have check to complete, could you take them to the camp please?’ You asked him, he nodded.  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He replied, you gave him a polite smile.  ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Sergeant Major, huh?’ The familiar voice said, you raised an eyebrow as you turned to him.  ‘General Lieutenant, huh?’ You replied back, he smiled wide before he brought you in for a hug that you greedily welcomed.   ‘I thought you had been discharged?’ Jake said, you shrugged a shoulder.  ‘I didn’t go through with it, Sandra had a stern talking to me.’ You told him, he arched an eyebrow and nodded, ‘I got better and worked part time at that hospital, before I was put to work again.’ You explained, he hummed.  ‘Should I dare ask the question how long your back for?’ Jake asked, you pursed your lips together as you looked around your home for the undefined amount of time.  ‘No idea, I’ll be here until the war doesn’t need me.’ You told him, he smiled.  ‘That could be a long time, war doesn’t seem to stop.’ He commented.  ‘Yeah, but it’s both what we signed up for, right?’ You asked, he hesitated in nodding.  ‘You look good.’ He changed the subject, you smiled.  ‘Thanks, the scars healed up good.’ You tilted your head to the side so he could see the scars that had died down drastically after fourteen months.  ‘What’s up that you’re on my turf now?’ You asked, already knowing the answer but you wanted to delay moving on.  ‘Our next mission, it -,’ he trailed off, ‘we need to refresh our ground skills.’  ‘Well damn.’ You commented.  ‘Yeah.’  ‘Is the whole group here?’ You asked, he nodded and jutted his chin.   You turned and looked at the group making their way over, they were talking to each other before Rooster said something and Phoenix’s head snapped up, her smile wide.  ‘Y/N.’ She greeted you, carefully wrapping an arm around you, as to not trap the weapon between you.  ‘Phoenix.’ You said, glad that you were seeing her again.  ‘Guys.’ You greeted the others, resting your hands on the handle of your weapon.  ‘How’s the training going?’ You asked, looking over the group that had bags under their eyes, and were scuffing their feet along the sand. The heat would be getting out them, it got to everyone the first week they were on ground.  ‘I think we’ll be sore tomorrow.’ Bob commented, you smiled and nodded. ‘Normally are.’ You commented, a low whistle came, you moved your helmet to the other arm.  ‘Where are you off to then?’ Payback asked, you motioned behind you to the group climbing into a humvee.   ‘About to head out on a ride around, check the perimeter.’ You told them.  ‘Ghost.’ Someone behind called, you looked over your shoulder and gave them a thumbs up.  ‘I’ve got to go but if you’re still here when I’m back we can grab a drink or late dinner.’ You told them, they nodded as you pulled up the face mask that revealed the painted white jawbone and teeth. 

You jogged across the sand, having gotten used to the small grains invading your shoes. You reached the back of the convoy, stretching an arm up and grabbing the pole before you yanked yourself up. You fell into your seat next to Sage and Magpie, who smiled at you.  ‘What are you two smiling like that for?’ You asked them voice slightly muffled by the fabric, they shook their heads.  ‘They’re talking about the eye candy from the navy.’ Spartacus said, you arched your eyebrow and looked at them.  ‘That so? I can hook you up if you want?’ You offered, they shook their heads.  ‘No thank you but we want to know what is going on with you and the navy boy?’ Magpie asked, the entire team all turned to look at you.  ‘What?’ You asked.  ‘Blondie, he can’t take his eyes off you.’ Magpie stated, the corner of your lips curled up as your shook your head.  ‘Hangman, we’re friends, he was on the ship and then he helped when I was in hospital.’ You informed them, Spartacus leaned her head back.  ‘So, it’s him we’ve got to thank for letting us see you?’ Spartacus asked, you nodded.  ‘Yeah, him and Sandra, knocked some sense into me.’ You informed them.  ‘That’s good, think I’ll get him a lovely and warm beer tonight.’ She said, the sarcasm rippled off him.  ‘Don’t be stupid, I put it in the fridge.’   ‘You’re my hero.’ She said, resting a hand on her chest as you laughed and shook your head. 

‘You still up for dinner?’ Phoenix asked, you nodded as you removed your helmet.   ‘Give me five minutes to take everything off.’ You told her, she smiled and watched as you removed the mask.  ‘I’ll gather the boys.’ She informed you, you nodded as your started to unfasten the weighted vest.  You let out a groan at the cooling air brushed your back, the sweat from the ride around chilled to further and caused goosebumps to appear. You set the vest on your bunker, the covers wrinkled before you unfastened the long-sleeved shirt, sliding it off you looked at the white and pink scar that covered your arm. You quickly folded the shirt before pulling the soaked t-shirt off, leaving you in the black sports bra.  ‘Shit. Sorry.’ The familiar voice said, you looked over your shoulder.  ‘You’re fine, Jake.’ You said, he nodded but still adverted his gaze.  ‘A gentleman never looks.’ He said, you scoffed as you pulled the fresh black T-shirt, tucked it into your trousers as you turned to him.  ‘Why are you here anyway?’ You asked him whilst you folded the dirty t-shirt up and set it on the bottom of your bed.  ‘Phoenix ran away from here.’ He stated, a thumb pointed behind him.  ‘And you thought I had turned into the beast?’ You questioned, he started to shake his head.  ‘No, I -,’ he stuttered to a stop.  ‘It’s fine, don’t get much privacy out here anyway.’ You told him, you noticed as his eyes looked over you before his gaze got caught on your arm, where your scars continued down to your forearm. You watched his face twist before he noticed you.  ‘Do they hurt?’ He asked, you wriggled your fingers and looked at the arm he had looked at.  ‘Not anymore,’ you rubbed your arm, ‘sometimes they’ll tingle but not much.’ You truthfully told him and slid your radio onto your waist.  ‘Let’s go then.’ You gestured to the flaps that he had walked through, he nodded and turned around before you grabbed your holster, you fastened it around your thigh and slid the gun in. 

‘Shit.’ You noticed a thick cloud of sand and dust swirl into the air, you straightened to get a better look before you raised your wrist and looked at the time, brows furrowed.  ‘What’s happening?’ Phoenix quizzed, Sage stood up and moved as did Magpie.  ‘Get into the bunkers.’ You pulled your radio off your hip as you looked at the cloud of dust rising that wasn’t from a sandstorm, ‘Now.’ You commanded, they quickly crossed the sand and slid into the large tent that had been their home for the last six days.  ‘Actual one?’ You asked, you bent your knees but kept your gaze on the growing cloud as you pulled your weapon out.  ‘Go ahead.’ The crackled voice replied.  ‘We’re under attack here.’  You informed them, stretching your gun out and watched the vehicles appear in the dust.  ‘Who’s there?’ Actual one asked, a round of bullets was fired. and you ducked.  ‘Myself, Sage, Magpie and the Navy team.’ You said, the radio cracked.  ‘Then you three need to protect them. We’re ten clicks away.’ He said, you closed your eyes, and tilted your head back and sighed.  ‘Understood.’  ‘Sage.’ You called, the radio placed on your hip once more.  ‘Here.’ She appeared at your side.  ‘We’re under attack.’ You said, more bullets were aimed at the base.  ‘Really I thought it was fireworks.’ She commented whilst you rolled your eyes.  ‘The navy team are still here, back up is ten clicks.’ You informed her, her face dropped and she nodded stiffly.  ‘Ten clicks?’ you gave a stiff nod, ‘shit.’  ‘Yeah.’  ‘Teams location?’ Sage questioned.  ‘In the bunkers.’ You said, flinching when a handful of bullets landed in the sand next to you.  ‘I’ll meet you at the bunker.’ Sage said.  You gave her a nod as she pulled away from you, you marched over to the small wall that had been built up of sandbags. You widened your stance and pulled your mask up to cover your mouth and nose, the sand was horrible if it stuck to the back of your throat  ‘Copy.’ You rested your gun against the makeshift wall, lining your eyes up, and you fired, taking out a couple of assailants.  ‘The groups big.’ You said, Magpie tapped your shoulder and you pulled away.  Both of you moved, your backs almost touching as you crossed to the bunkers, the sand sliding under your feet. You reached the bunkers, the cotton door was open, you could just make out the team, huddled together.  ‘Coming around West.’ Sage announced, you kept your gun aimed ahead before the solid pat on your shoulder alerted you.  ‘Nice that you could make it.’ Magpie said, she shrugged.  ‘You know I love attending surprise parties.’ She commented, you smirked and shook your heads.  ‘Why now?’ Sage quizzed as they both glanced at you.  ‘We’re empty and they’ve probably got information that they’re here.’ You said, gesturing your thumb backwards.  Magpie and Sage turned to look at the group, they were sat together and watched them closely, their faces tight as they tried to hide their panic. They knew that being up high, dealing with it and being on the ground was different.  ‘Who knew they were coming?’ Sage asked, you looked out, three black jeeps were pushing their way through the sand, the cloud growing behind them.  ‘They’ve got a rocket launcher.’  ‘They wouldn’t use that right?’ Magpie asked, they knew the odds.  ‘Get in.’ You said, Sage moved backwards, and Magpie followed before you straightened, bullets coming from the East.  You jerked back and lowered your gun before you pulled the binoculars out. Leaning around the edge of the building you tried to find him, you came up empty until the small flash of light gave away his position.  ‘Magpie, East, one point five clicks.’ You said, another bullet was fired at you.  The team watched as Magpie moved to the window, she set her gun up on the ledge and focused through it. The handle rested on her shoulder and she calmed her breathing down.  ‘Upper ridge, every third seconds he reloads and gives his position away.’ You explained, you stepped out from behind the ledge and allowed him to shot at you.  

‘Got him?’ You asked, the room stayed quiet before she pulled the trigger, the team jumped at the loud pop.  ‘He’s down.’ She said.  ‘Copy.’ You replied.   ‘Y/N.’ Sage called out, a hand wrapped around your shoulders and yanked you back.  ‘Stay.’ You yelped out.  The shook caused you to tumble backwards, the attacker took that to his advantage and straddled you, he pointed his gun at you but it was empty. He quickly recovered and flung it to the side, sending a punch into your face. With a grunt you tried to buck your hips but he didn’t budge. He managed to get a punch into the side of your chest, a sharp pain spread through your chest, briefly closing your eyes as you guessed it was a broken rib.   Opening your eyes and looked at him, wrapping your legs over his calves you swung your arm forward and connected with his throat. You managed to get enough force that he gasped for air, using this to your advantage you flipped him over. His back collided with the sand as you held onto the soaked shirt. You continued to punch his face, when he stopped fighting, you looked down. His face was red and swelling as some parts were turning purple. Sitting back on your feet you took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeat before a force slammed into your chest. ‘We need to help her.’ Jake said, as he watched the second attacker pin you to the ground, Sage moved and blocked his path.  ‘We’ll be shot.’ She said and sent a look to Magpie, they knew the only reason you hadn’t been shot was because you were being attacked. You reached to the side, your fingers just brushed the top of your boot. Grunting you twisted for the side and pulled the handle out, the sharp blade followed, you rotated it hand your hand before you brought your hand up and sliced his throat. The dark blood sprayed out from the wound and leaked into your uniform, you watched as your attackers faced paled but you bucked your hips and he tumbled to the side. You dropped your head back and sighed before you rolled onto you side and held your side as your climbed to your feet. ‘How the fuck did they get that close?’ You asked, the team turned to you. You were a sight, your entire outfit was soaked with blood as it seeped into your outfit. You were breathing heavily and you grip on the blade hadn’t eased up. Sage and Magpie spun around and you raised a knife at the quiet footsteps sounded behind you.  ‘We don’t know.’ Spartacus said, you narrowed your eyes at her then you looked to Hangman and the team, your shoulders slouched.  ‘Where were you going?’ You quizzed.  ‘Perimeter check.’ He stated, you shook your head.  ‘No, you were too far away.’ You said, brows furrowed as you folded and slid the knife back into your boot.  ‘Major said to expand it tonight, credible threats.’ Spartacus stated, you shook your head.  'Shit.' You cursed.

[starlight-soup]

"so much of our lives is just carving through the dark / to get so far and the hardest part / is who we are, it's who we are" shut the FUCK up. "darling we sacrificed / we gave our time to something undefined" i'm SOBBING on the floor. "you only feel it when it's lost / getting through still has its cost / quietly it slips through your fingers love / falling from you drop by drop" i'm being BURIED in the ground

[itsclydebitches]

There's something I find pretty messed up about Little's part of the story. Penny is dead. The story puts focus on this and how it's effecting Ruby and is why Little's death is what breaks Ruby. The volume ends though with Little coming back so it's a happy end, right? Except Penny is still dead and never coming back. And they are going back to a world where people die when they are killed. It's like "Forget about your dead friend cause we got one where your actions don't have consequences."

Yeah, that's an issue with the Ascension arc as a whole. As discussed previously, we're already starting from a place of confusing messages because the world can't decide what Ascension exactly is. Some beings lose all their memories and (arguably as a result) their sense of self. Some just seem to get cool upgrades. Some change in such monumental ways they probably can't go back to their old life even if they wanted to (can Somewhat ever live with the other mice again now that they're like fifty times their size?). And some, Like Ruby, undergo no changes at all except a convenient and ambiguous ~emotional clarity~

So Ascension is a catch-all "Anything could happen" situation where all options, no matter how shady they appear to the audience, are eventually presented as #good by the show... except I'm 100% sure they only come across that way BECAUSE they happen to side characters we're not invested in/are leaving behind. Would people honestly have been happy if Ruby:

Completely forgot who she was (King)

Got some crazy physical upgrade that would fundamentally change the power dynamics of the show/other her in Remnant/imply that she's a faunus to strangers if she got some animal trait (the Caterpillar/Somewhat)

Came away with a new "purpose" and decided she didn't want to be a Huntress anymore (the Paper Pleasers)

There's a reason Ruby did not change except to inexplicably regain her confidence because the show and on some level recognizes that these options are indeed an awful kind of "death," something that would be bad to do to your main character (baring a monumental shift in the show). When we talk about the importance of growth (in real life and in fiction) we're referencing a context in which a person changes slowly over time, adapting to each change in a natural way, all of it a combination of environmental factors and personal agency. To just have some magical tree instantly change you without consent, making you "better" by its own, undefined parameters... that's not wonderful, that's horrifying! But as you say, even if we overlook all that and come at Ascension from a direction the story wants, accepting and praising such an aspect of this world... Team RWBY doesn't live in that world. What did they learn from this then? Yay for people who live in alternate realities because they get to become "better" rather than dying? Good for them, but our friends are still dead and our lives are still on the line.

If RWBY wanted this arc they not only needed to reeeeeally clean up what Ascension is/how it works, but decide on the message they're trying to impart. Because what we got, on a literal level, is Ruby being depressed enough to choose ending (that version of) her life, instead being rewarded for that choice by a pantheon she's kinda fighting against (in a way that both skips her development and ignores every other implied rule of Ascension), and is returning to a world where none of this matters because death is a Permanent Thing That She's Going to Be Seeing a Whole Lot More of Soon.

Penny is dead. Many other allies are dead. Weiss' Kingdom is gone. Salem is set to exterminate the rest of Remnant, and instead of dealing with any of that Volume 9 gave Team RWBY a (literal) fantasy world where everything is just fine, actually. Wouldn't it be cool if no one actually died and whenever it seems like they did they'd just come back as an upgraded version of themselves? Yeah! Too bad that's not the reality they're heading back to.

Honestly, the way to clean up all of Volume 9 for me is to slap a "It was just a dream" disclaimer on it. Volume 10 we learn that Ruby had a crazy, contradictory fever dream post-battle in which the biggest trauma she's ever faced is magically fixed by her subconscious? Yeah, that tracks. More than taking Volume 9 at face value.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 23

Fic masterlist

I’ve been writing this chapter amidst chaos and I was obsessed while planning this spicy scene. I hope you like it? The writing process wasn’t half as sexy, considering I have terrible flu 🤧

Warnings: NSFW

Words: 2,2k

The groaning creak of Aelin’s rusty window being opened jolted her awake. She shot up in bed, heart racing, only to register Rowan’s hulky figure invading her bedroom.

She threw herself back in bed, relieved and slightly less annoyed. “Alexa, what time is it?”

“You already know you’re late. The time is 6:42 a.m.”

Rowan sighed, finally inside, and closed her squeaky window. “I forgot how sassy your Alexa is.”

Rubbing both eyes, she slowly processed whatever was going on. Yesterday’s fight over Fleetfoot the Dog. Aelin’s late—and depressingly lonely—wine night. Rowan showed up here when she specifically told him not to.

“I took Maisie to Aedion’s, they’re going to the pool.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Where’s the key I gave you?”

“I didn’t know how you’d feel about me using it now.” After their fight, he meant.

“So you’d rather break into my house through my bedroom window instead?”

Rowan eyed her reading armchair, but decided to pace instead. Aelin could barely pay attention to him, only thinking about how she asked him for time to process the situation, but instead he decided to wake her up right after dawn to talk.

Aelin adjusted her pillows to sit by the headboard. “Did Maisie wake you up early today?”

“I didn’t sleep.”

She ran both hands on her face, trying to recall her last thoughts regarding the doggie situation. If Rowan wanted to make decisions alone rather than considering her opinions as a couple, she could go with it. “I want 50/50 custody of Fleetfoot, same co-parenting arrangement and shared expenses as we do with Maisie. I already made a new expense spreadsheet.”

“So you want the dog?”

“Oh my God.” Aelin leaned her head against the headboard, looking up. “Rowan, this is not about the dog!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes carefully assessing her, and that’s when she realized he was lost.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to phrase her feelings in the clearest way possible. “If I’m Maisie’s mother, if we’re together, and if you see yourself living with me within the next decade, I don’t understand why you’d get her a dog without talking to me first.”

“Very well.” His body tensed, both hands on his hips. “Another 50/50 custody. That’s what we’re doing, then?”

“Yes. That’s how I deal with things when I ask for time to think and you don’t give it to me.”

He resumed pacing around the room, one hand on his hip while he gesticulated with the other. “Look, I want to give you space, but I can’t sit and do nothing while you rethink our relationship.”

Aelin tilted her head, eyes squinted at him. Now she was the one who was lost. “While I do what?”

Rowan huffed, a hard look aimed at her. “You know…”

“I really don’t.”

“You pushed me away because you didn’t trust me.” Rowan sat on her armchair, eyes narrowed at a random point. She gave him time, knowing he wasn’t great at expressing himself or his feelings. “Now you gave me a second chance, and things are still delicate because I’m still proving myself.”

“Proving yourself…?” Aelin trailed, trying to understand his train of thought.

“That I deserve your second chance.” His voice slowed down as he sensed her confusion. “That you can rely on me in a way you didn’t before.”

Aelin’s mouth opened. And closed. It was a rare feat to make Aelin speechless, but Rowan did it this time. Had he been thinking like that for the past month?

“I was in a very vulnerable place five years ago, and our relationship was too undefined. I barely had the energy to think about something romantic between us, let alone fight for it.” Aelin fiddled with the corner of her blanket, feeling Rowan’s gaze on her, hanging on her every word. She continued, “That’s not the case now. I told you why I pushed you away back then because the situation called for it, but I don’t want to torment you over something you did so long ago.” She sent him a close-lipped, hope-to-be-reassuring smile. “Besides, I already know I can trust you. Did you ever fail with Maisie?”

A bitter chuckle. “Yes. Several times.”

Aelin left her position on her bed to straddle him at the armchair, her chest filled with warmth. “Well, you wouldn’t be a parent if you didn’t.” She combed his hair off his face with her fingers. Her fussy Buzzard, always thinking too much. He’d just started therapy, and Aelin knew it’d be a long process until the worst of that weight fell off his shoulders, but she’d be right there with him the entire time. “Your very chivalrous theory about needing to prove your worth was totally debunked, being Super Dad and all.”

“I was a terrible co-parent to you.”

“Me too.” Aelin put both hands on her hips, eyes squinted at him. “Are you putting me on a trial test?”

“I would never—“

She raised both eyebrows, silently begging him to think this through. Yeah, buddy, it goes both ways, she hoped her face conveyed.

“So, just to be sure, you’re not breaking up with—“

“Gods, Rowan!”

“Alright, alright.”

He held her close, face resting near her neck while he breathed her in. Aelin kissed his head, squeezing him into her embrace. Sometimes, when she’s with Rowan, no amount of touching feels like enough. Right now, she felt like melting and merging their bodies completely so every cell of her body hugs every cell of his. It was so silly, but it did feel like heaven to hear his mocking groans, as if Rowan hated being squished to death.

Aelin grinned down at him, still straddling his lap, and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re mine.”

He kissed her palm. “I’m yours.”

“And you love me,” she said. Not a question.

“To whatever end,” he breathed.

She leaned to kiss him, meeting him halfway. What started as a tender kiss soon turned molten. Rowan’s hands traveled down her torso, hungrily grabbing her, as Aelin ravished his mouth, full of need while grinding down on his lap from how much her body burned for him.

Rowan hooked both hands under her thighs and lifted them up from the armchair, carrying Aelin to her bed. He dropped her in a seating position and caged her with both arms, still standing while pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re mine.” His eyes were glued to hers and so close, she felt the claiming in her bones, her soul.

“I’m yours.” Her answer was as truthful as the throbbing between her thighs—very.

“And you love me.” Such hope and quiet joy in his eyes, beneath all that fierceness.

“To whatever end.” Beaming at him, she radiated with the intensity of that moment and needed to show him how much she meant it.

Rowan kissed her again, dragging the moment until Aelin nipped his lip. He opened his mouth to protest, but when she felt him through his pants, it melted into a hiss.

Aelin dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Baby, you don’t have to—“

He cursed when she pulled her pants down. Aelin kept eye contact while she pumped him, trying to hide a smirk. The words died on his throat, mesmerized by the sight of her face and his cock so close. He held still while she licked the head, but Rowan’s eyes closed, his head lolling back when her tongue ran over his full length.

Aelin knew she didn’t have to but, fuck, she wanted to. She pumped his heavy, veiny length, panting, entranced. How a guy used his cock had always been something she valued more than the member in itself, but it was definitely a flex that her boyfriend came with both traits. Her need to be filled was driving her mad, but Aelin was dying to worship him too.

One more swirl of her tongue and she took him deep inside her mouth, quickly finding a rhythm. Cheeks hollowed, Aelin also worked him by massaging his base and his balls—it was near impossible to swallow all of him, no matter her attempts to deep-throat his cock.

Rowan’s eyes were glued to the way he disappeared into her mouth, and he kept praising her, guiding her head with his fist and hissing when he hit a particular spot near her throat, then again calling her a good girl that sucks his cock so well.

“Fuck, baby.” Rowan thrust into her mouth, and she was growing almost feverish with the sight of him using her for his own pleasure.

One of her hands disappeared between her thighs without interrupting his ministrations, but it only worsened the burning feeling she tried to soothe. A moment later, Rowan cursed at how wet it came back to toy with his balls.

“Baby.” He caressed her jaw, holding her gaze. “Fuck. The things I’m doing to you after this…”

Aelin moaned around his cock, almost losing her rhythm. His hips jerked, making him grip her hair harder.

He growled, “You have no idea.”

˜˜

“Must you tell her everything?” Rowan politely complained, jaw tight.

Aelin gaped. “But she’s our therapist!” Her defensive remark had a slightly higher pitch.

Yrene had her lips pressed tight to hide her amusement. Her job was to meddle in their relationship, but sometimes she chose not to—especially during a small bicker.

The woman cleared her throat. “It looks to me that you both communicated your thoughts and feelings on your own, mid crisis, while shielding your daughter from it." Yrene had a satisfied, close-lipped smile on while she typed on her computer. "That’s impressive progress. In fact, I feel like we’re ready to space out our sessions, so we can gradually transition you two out of therapy.”

Aelin felt a lightness inside, and her grin was almost too much. Hell yes, she was more than ready to cut off some sessions—if she counted her individual ones as well, Aelin saw Yrene way too much.

However, Rowan frowned, not looking convinced. “But we just had a fight.”

Their therapist waved him off. “You will from time to time. The important thing here is to identify when you’re falling into an old pattern, and to revisit conflict management skills when—not if—needed.” Yrene tilted her head, carefully studying Rowan. “But I can wait more to space out sessions if you don’t feel ready yet, even if I’m not discharging you immediately.”

His eyes darted between the two women, unsure.

“Baby, I think we’re good.” Aelin squeezed Rowan’s hands. She worked with a whole different way of looking inside her patients, but she knew how successful this case was.

“We won’t be working on new skills from now on, just maintaining what you already learned,” Yrene added, focused on Rowan. “Besides, I already consider your case successful. Couples don’t often get back together, let alone in a healthy relationship—sometimes, I’m only trying to prevent murder.”

The corner of his mouth quivered, and he squeezed Aelin’s hand back. “Alright, then. How often is it gonna be for now?”

˜˜

“Gods, I feel so spiritually evolved.” Aelin matched her boyfriend’s grin outside Yrene’s office, in the building’s hallway. “Every time a therapist praises me, I feel like lighting incense and doing yoga.”

Rowan hummed, wrapping his arm around her while they waited for the elevator. “Yoga’s nice. We could try it out—“

“Fuck, no. You promised me chocolate cake.”

“I didn’t mean now.” He studied her from the corner of his eye. “Tomorrow?”

“Nope.” Not ever, if she could help it—Aelin doing exercises about balance while having a giant bump that messed her center of gravity up? Scarred her to death. “I have a hip replacement tomorrow. Did you know that performing those is worse than CrossFit?”

“No, it’s not.” Rowan snorted. “You told me they were super easy when you were pregnant with…”

Realization made him lose his words. To Aelin’s defense, it was just a little white lie she told so he wouldn’t lose his mind with worry. Rowan’s eyes widened, and Aelin was saved by the elevator arriving at that exact moment. She hurried past him inside and watched him slowly enter, still staring at her.

The elevator moved, restarting him as well. She shook his head and stood behind her. Noting that they were alone in that metal box, Rowan grabbed her hips with both hands and whispered, “I’m punishing you for that later.”

Aelin shivered with his words fanning against her ear, feeling a whisper of his smirk when she trembled under his fingertips. Slightly pressed against him, she breathed, “I bet you are.”

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