#we must approach cautiously and slow blink @ them

[falloutnukabreak]

NOBODY move or we might spook gerard back into hiding again

[totally-not-deacon]

A Late WIP Wednesday For You!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire!! And I'm pretty sure most of y'all have been tagged already, so consider this an open invite to anyone who hasn't yet! Lemme see yo stuff!

So, writing's going slow, but it IS there. Not gonna share from AR this week, cause most of what I have down is really plor-centric. BUT. I've been having a blast goofing off with this silly, self-indulgent epilogue of sorts and getting to write and flesh out Marasa's family. I've also discovered writing kids is really fun. So y'all can have that instead!

Fluff time ahead, baybee!

Chaos erupted as the door swung open, the sound of two small pairs of feet stormed through the entryway, alongside a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks and giggles. Nebarra glanced at her with a mixture of confusion and alarm. She responded with a knowing smirk.

The sources of the noise skid to a halt across the room, two pairs of eyes peering at the strangers in the house. A third, older and taller mer – though still a good head below Nebarra – stopped behind them, a bright smile on his face. The resemblance was uncanny; this must be one of her brothers. Baeren, going by the children in tow.

“Took you long enough! C’mere!”

“Oof–” She was drawn into another bone-crushing hug. This was going to be a common occurrence, wasn’t it? Marasa swatted him away, still grinning. “Ouch, you ghul!”

Baeren laughed, waving the two children over. They both approached cautiously, not sure what to make of all this. “This is your aunt Mar – remember I told you about her?” They nodded, eyeing her. “And this is… er, I’m not sure if I ever caught your name?”

Nebarra introduced himself once again, the name slowly becoming familiar again. Marasa likely never mentioned it in her letters, keeping it to herself as she’d promised years ago. He jumped, feeling something tugging on the leg of his trousers. One of the little ones gawked up at him. A little girl, sandy hair pulled into two long braids and the tiniest nubs of Bosmeri antlers just beginning to show, looked at him in wonder. Should he… say something?

“Wow, you’re really, really tall!” she chirped before standing up proudly, puffing out her chest. “My name is Lorne and I’m almost five years old! Papa says I’m a big girl now. Right Papa?”

The other, a small boy with a mop of wild auburn hair and dark eyes not unlike both Marasa and her brother, stood behind his sister, looking a bit more suspicious of the strange mer. He took the pair of them in for a moment before he spoke up.

“Why are you yellow?” Nebarra blinked.

Marasa burst into laughter, doubling over with her hands on her knees and tears in her eyes. Each time she thought she’d contained herself, his dumbfounded expression just set her off once again. The small boy watched her for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles as well, clearly pleased with himself. So much for not encouraging bad behavior.

“Oh, by Y’ffre – I’m sorry about that. They’ve never met an Altmer before.” Baeren crouched down, gently scolding the boy. “You can’t just ask something like that, Faedon.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s impolite.”

“Why?”

“Ohoho, we are not doing this again – not after last time,” he shook his head. “Took an hour to wear him out, I swear.”

The front door slammed open once again and another pair of footfalls stormed in, however these were much heavier than the ones belonging to the tiny mer in front of them. They, too, were accompanied by raucous laughter, this time distinctly adult – though one wouldn’t guess as such listening to the… colorful story one was telling the other.

“Oh, boy.” Marasa chuckled under her breath.

“What do you mean oh, boy? I don’t think I like tha –”

“Sis!!” called a pair of not-quite-identical twins in unison, each with autumn orange eyes and small antlers, though only one sported the auburn hair most of the family had, the other matched his niece and father. Other than that, however, there was very little difference between them. They were tall for Bosmer – not that it was saying much, in Nebarra’s opinion – made all the more evident when they lifted Marasa off the ground, squishing her between them in a massive hug. She squirmed, getting her hands over her head to yank both of them by the antlers to get them to let her go. Nebarra had to admit it was amusing to watch.

“Ugh, you two smell like a kollopi’s ass! Did you even bathe when you got back into town?”

“Papa!” Lorne yelped, scandalized. “Papa, auntie Mar said a bad word!”

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 99.13

The Tallest try to figure out what the Battalion is up to.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

The Greatest in the Galaxy Part 13

“Attention. This is an announcement from your Irken overlords. Tourney is under lock down. All guests must remain within their houses for interrogation and arrest by Irken guards. Do not attempt to resist. And if you are part of the Earth team, turn yourselves in! Thank you.”

The message rings out across Planet Tourney while the streets are in chaos. Audience members race in a panic, trying to get into their guests houses as Irken guards march after them. They capture any alien they can grab and anyone who tries fighting back gets shocked into submission. In just a handful of minutes, the streets are empty as the Irkens take away anyone they’ve captured and anyone who’s gotten away hides.

An eerie, deafening silence fills the once bustling and exciting city-planet.

In the penthouse of the Irken tower, the Tallest sit on a luxurious couch, staring at a series of screens, all of them black. They’re both getting increasingly more annoyed.

“Status update!” Red barks. An Irken soldier slides in front of them and salutes.

“The streets have been cleared,” he announces, “our prisons are packed with approximately 2000 alien guests.”

“Fine, fine,” Red grunts, “but what about the Battalion?”

“Uh, the remains of the Earth house have been scoured and we can confirm that nobody was inside it when it exploded,” the soldier replies, “the Battalion have not been found and all of the cam-bots are still missing.”

“That’s not an update,” Purple groans, “we already knew that.”

“B-but, you asked...”

“Beat it!”

“Yes, sirs,” the soldier bows before scampering out of the room.

Red and Purple both sigh angrily.

“What a disaster this has turned into,” Red laments, “this is supposed to be a joyous event, celebrating the amazingness of Irkens.”

“And instead it’s displaying our monstrous ruthlessness.”

They turn at the voice to see Rory entering the room.

“Well, yes, I suppose it’s showing our amazingness in a different way,” Purple agrees.

“Rory, what are you doing here?” Red demands.

“I wanted to see how things were going,” Rory replies, “and I see you’re doing what you do best when you panic- ruining everything. Is capturing all of the guests really necessary?”

“Everyone is a suspect,” Red insist, “any one of them could be in on the Battalion’s plan.”

“Which is?”

“Something nefarious, no doubt,” Purple replies.

“Right,” Rory grunts, “well, I will be having no part of this nonsense. If you need me, my bots and I will be in the Massive. Later.”

He gives a cheeky salute as he leaves and the Tallest scoff after him.

“That smeet has our combined DNA,” Purple points out, “how did he become so insubordinate?”

“He’s got a mind of his own,” Red replies, “it’s his greatest strength, and our greatest curse.”

Rory marches through the halls of the tower to the tele-pod that’ll take him to the Massive, which is parked outside the atmosphere. “Civ, Viv,” he calls for his bots, but they don’t rush to his side in their immediate manner. He slows to a stop, glancing around suspiciously. “Civ? Viv?”

The twin SIR units fly down the hall and stop in front of him. “Apologies for our tardiness, Master Rory,” Civ says.

“It’s fine,” Rory replies, “let’s get-.”

“Ah, Master Rory,” Viv says quickly. “We have something we must show you...privately.”

Rory blinks with surprise and glances up and down the empty corridor before nodding. The robots lead him to his private chambers, which are dark with the lights off and the drapes drawn.

“Why’s it so dark in here?” Rory questions and moves to turn on the lights.

“Leave the lights,” a familiar voice orders from within the darkness. “And keep your voice low.”

Rory stops and strains to look through the darkness. He cautiously approaches until he’s able to see who he already knows is talking. “Zim?”

Zim grins as he leans back in a chair. “Hello, Rory. We need to talk.”

---

Devi flips through the competition channels, each one a black screen. After a couple minutes, she groans and tosses the remote aside. “Still nothing.”

Johnny cries out angrily and punches the floor. “What the fuck is going on? How are supposed to know if Squee is okay?”

“And the others,” Tenna adds.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“This isn’t because of the competition,” Skoodge says, “this has never happened before. I bet Zim and the others caused this.”

“So we don’t have to be worried?” Colton asks.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But what are they doing?” Carmen asks, “and why? I thought they wanted to win this competition, not ruin it.”

“We’ve been watching them all week, but we don’t actually know what’s going on in the background,” Maddie points out.

“She’s right,” Devi agrees, “something must’ve happened.”

“All we can do is wait, I guess,” Tenna says.

“Argh I hate waiting!” Johnny barks.

They sit around for another hour, periodically flipping through the dark channels. Devi checks them mechanically, automatically clicking the button, until she flips through one that isn’t black.

“Whoa!” she exclaims.

“What?” Tenna questions, everyone startled.

“I saw something!” Devi replies as she flips back and stops on an actual view.

The cam-bot is high up on a building, looking out at the city. It’s glancing around, as if confused. Then the sound of fingers snapping is heard and it turns around to Squee.

“Squee!” everyone gasps.

On Tourney, the Tallest are also watching and Red pounds the couch’s armrest. “Somebody get his location!”

Zim and Rory are also watching in Rory’s room, as are any planet guests that have evaded capture and at-home viewers waiting for the show to come back. Right now, Squee has the whole galaxy captive.

He’s fully dressed with a pair of black, wraparound sunglasses and some kind of metallic bands on both of his forearms. He doesn’t have any bandages and small burn marks can be seen scattered across the bare skin of his arms and face. He stares at the camera with an emotionless expression before pointing above his head.

The cam-bot looks up to see a large digital billboard in the distance cheering for the Irken team. But it’s been graffiti-ed with a smiley face in purple spray paint.

Squee lifts his hand into view and wiggles it before snapping his fingers. The spray paint explodes, rendering the billboard into smouldering dust that crumbles to the ground, shocking everyone watching and even the cam-bot.

Squee grabs the camera and lowers it so it’s looking at him. “Follow me while I destroy every last bit of Irken propaganda on this planet,” he says darkly. “Catch me if you can.”

He suddenly shoots off the screen and the cam-bot turns to see him flying off the edge of the building, cheering. It rushes after him.

“He’s having fun,” Zim remarks in Rory’s room.

“What was that?” Rory demands, “what’s Squee doing? What’s going on?”

Zim grins hungrily. “Revolution.”

[higaneion]

Slowly, Lilina begins to speak now with Weiss, absorbing her conversation with Corrin. "Lysander spoke of... beasts and cave-ins as I recall." Though it seems awfully quiet, for now. 

She takes a moment to pause, brows furrow as she begins to piece every bit of information they have together. Rules set in place by some other form of authority. To protect Weiss specifically, but if that were the case, then why had she been allowed to come with them? Though she had just met her, she would come bearing news of a family loss. Finally, she looks back up to her, expression stoic and determined.

"Weiss... I will do everything in my power to return you back home safely, but in the event things go awry... do you know how to fight? Or at the very least will you be able to run?"

Weiss blinks, and then nods lightly - vague acknowledgement of Lilina's promise. She pats the tome at her waist. "I am adept in magic. I need not run." Then, after a contemplative pause: "I will be all right. You need not worry. I am to guide you. Was there anything you wanted to look at, or shall we move on?"

A mage. Though instinctively, she wants to scold lightly by commenting if you say so, she knows better than to doubt someone else’s abilities until proven. 

“...Let us move on then,” she says, nodding decisively.

The group continues on, entering a second chamber hosting several large and deep basins. There are a few uncovered and if she were to lean a little closer on her toes, she would see a crystal blue substance inside. She couldn’t help but notice how similar the color is to the shade to the cavern and gems they had seen just prior.

She slows to a halt in front of one of the basins, staring up at it. Her gaze catches onto a ladder leading up to the opening and she climbs upon it. So there was life down here after all… Surely it must be somewhat safe to investigate further. 

When she reaches the top and gets a better view, the scent is nothing too pungent, but not what she was expecting either. From the looks of it, she suspects it would smell synthetic, but it has an earthy, slightly sweet aroma gently emerging from it. Regardless of how harmless it seems, she errs on the side of caution to reach out and touch it. Her hand retracts momentarily as it feels smooth, squishy, somewhere between solid and liquid.

“What is this?”

Weiss shakes her head. "I've never seen it before." She blinks, looking at it closer from another vat. She, too, climbs up a few steps, but instead of a cautious approach, just sticks her arm right in up to her shoulder. "Feels weird. But familiar." Swish, swish."

"Familiar in what way?" Her brow raises toward her first, then at back down at the material. If she could stick her arm so casually in it, she either was fearless or it was truly harmless. Lilina cautiously follows her lead and grabs a hold of a chunk of it where her reflection used to be, breaking the once perfectly glossed over top. 

"... Like something from long ago. I can't remember..."

"Perhaps we should take a sample... just in case." Lilina hops down and offers a hand to Weiss if she wants it, adding, "What would something like this be doing in a mine?" She kneads the substance in her hand, "unless the crystals we saw earlier are made from... this?" 

Weiss pulls her arm out, substance falling from her. Strangely, it doesn't seem to adhere to her as much as to Lilina - a quick shake and flick of arm and wrist and she's unencumbered. She too hops down, only noticing Lilina's outstretched hand after the fact. She blinks. Doesn't comment on it. "I think that is a safe assumption to make."

What this means, she isn’t sure, but she pulls a small tin container from the rations at the campsite and stores their new find in there for the time being. 

@hresvelged

hidden in the hillsides

[starlight-loki]

Precautionary Surveillance (Loki x Reader)

Or, That Time You and Loki Became Friends

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none :)

A/N: this is platonic (and gender neutral! :D )

As this is my first imagine, I kind of just wanted to establish how the reader first meets Loki, but I’ve got plenty more fluff in the works! ;)

also this takes place post-Ragnarok, but Infinity War doesn’t exist here, shHHHH

Despite the long list of risks and expectations that came with living with the Avengers in their compound, you never thought that babysitting Loki would be included. And yet, a mere two weeks after having moved into the compound, Tony sheepishly approached you with the news.

He didn’t word-for-word call it ‘babysitting’ of course, but you knew it was definitely implied. 

“Think of it as... precautionary surveillance.” Tony had explained to you that morning as he packed a small backpack, supposedly containing enough supplies to last for a week-long mission. “Or if that’s too much, just be normal roommates. But check in on him every few hours. Make sure he’s not destroying anything. And don’t let him go out. Or to my lab. Or Bruce’s. Or the roof-”

“Okay, I get it Tony,” you rolled your eyes as you heaved out a sigh. “You want me to babysit Loki.” 

Tony shrugged, and patted your shoulder empathetically before zipping up his backpack. “Your words, kid. Not mine. Like I said, it’s just precautionary surveillance, we’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just bring him along with you!” You protested, throwing your hands up in the air. “His fighting skills and abilities would be really useful for your mission, you know that right?”

You were fine with the fact that Tony and Steve weren’t confident enough in your fighting abilities to bring you along on missions just yet -- frankly, you were completely happy staying behind and burying your nose in a book. But now Tony wanted you to babysit Loki, going so far as asking you to log any ‘suspicious activity’ from the god. You thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

“You know why, Y/N.” Tony began sternly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and starting towards the quinjet hangar. He was walking briskly, and you scowled as you had to practically run after him. “The New York Incident? The two-hundred or so times he’s betrayed Thor? That time he stuck his dad in an old folks home here and just paraded around Asgard in disguise for two years?”

“New York was nearly ten years ago!” You protested. “Look at him now, all he does is putter around the compound in sweatpants because you won’t let him out-”

Tony sighed loudly, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Look, I know you’re new here and you mean well, but we don’t trust him Y/N. Thor dragged him here because Asgard’s gone and there’s nowhere else for them to go, but Loki is not one of us. It’s going to be a damn long time before any of us think anything different of him.”

You glowered at Tony, fighting the tiny glow of anger that sparked in your heart when you heard him talk about Loki like that. 

You had stolen glances at Loki last week when he thought no one else was looking, and you knew he was far from the dysfunctional maniac who tried to take over New York all those years ago. Sure, the dysfunctional part may still remain, but he was far from a maniac -- you could see that in his features when he sat on the couch alone that day, flipping through a small worn book. 

He looked... lost. Empty almost, as if any possibility of a joyful life had been stripped from him. It hurt your heart to see someone sit with their own melancholy the way Loki did. The fact that no one else in the Compound trusted him -- evident from the fact that you were being put on babysitting duty this instant -- didn’t make things any better. 

“Take care of yourself, kid.” Tony said, pulling you in for a fairly awkward one-armed hug. “Keep an eye on Loki, but don’t do anything stupid.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?” 

“Just... keep your distance from him.” 

Tony’s words brought the image of Loki sitting alone in sadness back to the front of your mind, and you decided right then and there that you were going to do exactly the opposite of what Tony was suggesting. 

The first day felt like an eternity. Loki remained in his room with the door shut, and with no one else to chat with and pass the time, time seemed to crawl at an eerily slow pace. 

You made pasta for dinner. You figured the sound of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils clanging every now and then as you cooked would summon the lonely Asgardian out of his room to eat at the very least, and you couldn’t help the little sting of disappointment that appeared when you finished your meal as alone as you had been earlier. 

After placing your own bowl in the sink, you grabbed Loki’s portion you had set aside and padded down the hall to his room. You tried to ignore the slight tremble in your hand as you knocked on his door. 

“Loki?” You asked gently. “You there?”

You were greeted with a faint shuffling noise, but otherwise there was nothing but silence. 

“I made you dinner. I haven’t seen you all day, you must be hungry... um... I mean, you don’t have to eat of course if you don’t want to, but I’ll just... I’ll leave this here at your door if you want it. No pressure.” 

You felt fire rush to your cheeks as you cursed yourself silently for rambling, and carefully set the bowl of pasta on the floor. 

“If you want anything,” you added quickly in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. “More food, tea, some company... I’m in the other room.” 

You stood frozen at Loki’s door for a moment, waiting for any sort of response. Earning nothing but more silence, you nodded to yourself before turning on your heel and heading back for the kitchen. 

You looked back over your shoulder before you rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and the pasta bowl was gone. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

The second and third day passed much like the first. If it weren’t for the fact that Loki was constantly on your mind, it would’ve felt like you had the entire place to yourself. You would have enjoyed the quiet, but there was a part of you that couldn’t stop worrying about Loki. 

After the god failed to leave his room once again, you brought dinner to his door which was hastily accompanied by another short little babble of an invitation to join you in the living room if he wished. Just like day one, you were greeted with silence and a meal that vanished out of the hall just before you turned the corner. 

On the fourth day, you couldn’t get Loki out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Was he lonely? Bored? Did he sleep the entire day? Did he even sleep at all? The rooms in the Compound were just about the same: spacious, yet minimal in decoration. Everyone got a TV and a small bookshelf in the corner, but that was about it. Judging by the fact that Tony and the rest of the Avengers weren’t allowing Loki to leave the Compound, you figured he probably didn’t have much for entertainment. 

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you dashed off to your beloved little bookstore in the city. You ransacked the shelves for anything you felt Loki would’ve liked, as well as books you adored and would’ve wholeheartedly recommended to anyone else. If Loki was going to spend all day in his room, he deserved to have new books to keep him company, at the very least. 

Two hours later you returned home, your shoulder aching from the countless books that were weighing you down in the best way, and to your surprise you found Loki with his back to you in the kitchen. 

Was he... doing the dishes for you? 

You dropped your tote bag of books to the ground in surprise, and Loki flinched almost imperceptibly at the dull thud that echoed throughout the open space of the Compound. 

“Hi,” You managed breathlessly as the god turned and looked at you with wide eyes for the briefest second. You blinked, and just like that Loki had regained his cool composure. “You’ve finally come out of your room.”

Loki opened his mouth to reply, his eyes scanning the room as he searched for an excuse. After a moment of silence, he sighed. 

“Thank you for the meals. I appreciate it.” 

You took off your coat and hung it on the chair as you approached him. Your heart sank ever so slightly as you caught Loki take the smallest step back. 

“Of course, I mean... we all gotta eat right?” You laughed quietly and looked away as you ran a hand through your hair. “You don’t have to clean up, I can do that.” 

“It was the least I could do in return.” 

The silence that grew between the two of you seemed to amplify with every passing second. Loki nodded, almost out of resignation, and began to walk back to his room without a word. 

Now was your chance, if you wanted to make him feel welcome like you had hoped to. 

“Wait!” Your voice came out more as a squeak and you tried your best to ignore the fire that rose to your cheeks. “I, uh, I got these for you.” 

As you bent down to retrieve your fallen bag of books, you heard quiet careful steps as Loki approached you cautiously. He kept his distance, but leaned a little closer to you as you began laying all the books out on the table for him to see. 

“I picked out a few books I’ve read and love dearly. I figured you could give them a try. And... I, uh, saw you reading Shakespeare last week, so I thought you might like these two.” You gestured to the novels closest to him. “They’re  Ancient Greek tragedies.”

You glanced at Loki, and noticed how he picked up Oedipus Rex and began flipping through the pages carefully, as if the book were to vanish from his hands at any moment. 

“I’ve never read this one before,” Loki mused quietly. Your heart skipped a beat as his steady gaze moved to meet your eyes. “When would you like me to return these to you?”

You blinked in surprise. “They’re for you to keep.” You smiled. “I bought them for you.” 

You watched as gratitude, then confusion, then what almost looked shame flash across Loki’s features. He almost seem to clutch the book tighter in his grip.

“...Why?”

You pulled out the chair that you were leaning against and sat down with a sigh as you looked up at Loki. 

“I don’t like how everyone’s been treating you.” You admitted quietly.

“So this is out of pity?” Loki asked cooly, nodding at the books on the table with narrowed eyes.

 “No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head rapidly. “No, Loki, that wasn’t my intention at all. I mean, I’ve only been here two weeks and I could see immediately that everyone keeps their distance from you. You’re not allowed on missions-”

“Neither are you.” Loki cut in. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. 

“Yeah, but I’m the weakest link at the moment. I don’t count.” You replied quickly, trying your best to ignore the intrigue on Loki’s face as he gazed at you. “I saw you last week, reading your book. You looked so lonely. I thought maybe you just wanted some space, but I’ve noticed how the others treat you. Tony and everyone else, they leave you out of everything! They don’t try to include you in conversations at dinner, you wear the same two pairs of clothes everyday because no one’s bothered to get you any decent clothes besides sweatpants. Hell, Tony kept me off this mission to babysit you and it makes me so mad! You’re an adult! You deserve your own freedom, Loki!”

You slammed your hand down on the table in frustration, and winced as your words replayed in your head. You definitely went overboard this time. You should’ve just given Loki the books and left.

You were certain Loki was going to retreat back to his room as he moved away from you and around the table, but to your surprise, he sat down in the chair across from you, his hands clasped carefully together.

“Perhaps Stark is right, this is what I deserve.” He said quietly, breaking the silence that resided between the two of you. “I haven’t exactly been... welcoming to anyone.”

You shook your head. “You lost Asgard, your family... Thor brought you here with the intention of this being your new home. The least everyone could is treat you like a person, not a hostage. This isn’t a prison. You deserve so much more than that.” 

“They don’t want me around.” Loki said simply. 

“I do.” You held his gaze unwaveringly, and reached out to place your hand gently over his. To your surprise, he didn’t pull away. “I want you around. You matter to me.” 

Loki sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as he took in your words. 

“Thank you.” He spoke slowly. “Your words -- and your actions -- mean more than anything Stark or anyone else has done in the time I’ve been here.”

You smiled in response, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pushing his books towards him. 

“You’ve got plenty of things to do while you’re in your room now.” You grinned nodding towards the books on the table. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but you caught Loki return your smirk for a split second. 

“I think I would prefer to read my books out here... with company.” 

The following day was nothing like the others. To your surprise, Loki greeted you with a small smile from his spot on the couch as you trudged bleary-eyed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“You look tired.” He remarked quietly as you began searching the cupboards for something to eat. You managed a shrug.

“I don’t sleep that great most nights.” You admitted. You heard Loki get up from the couch, setting his book down on the coffee table gently before approaching you. He still kept some distance -- the kitchen counter did a good job of separating the two of you -- but he leaned in, almost grateful to be in the presence of someone who truly saw him. 

“Me neither.” Loki chuckled. “Thor sleeps like the dead, but I rarely sleep well. That’s how my love for books began, actually.”  

“Me too!” You exclaimed excitedly. “I’d stay up reading till 1 or 2 AM some nights as a kid. I’d have to use a flashlight and hide under the covers so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Loki, whose smile suddenly began to look like sunshine in your eyes. 

“I used magic to see in the dark, but hiding under the covers was the only way I could read at night without waking Thor up.”

“You shared a room with Thor?” 

Loki nodded, scoffing a little. “My mother thought it would help reinforce our bond as brothers. A lot of good that did.”

You leaned in towards him, your posture mirroring his as you rested your arms against the kitchen counter. 

“Thor still loves you.” You said quietly, a small smile touching your lips for a brief moment. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure he does.”

“No, really. He wouldn’t have brought you here to live with him if he didn’t. You guys got here before me of course, but I’m sure he had to pull a lot of strings to get Tony to agree to have you live in the Compound.” 

There was that silence again, like the day before, settling down gently between the two of you. You lowered your gaze to your hands. 

“Sorry. I meddle too much. I should stop.” 

This time, it was Loki who placed his hands over yours gently. 

“No,” he replied softly. “You speak your mind, I admire that. It shows you have strength.” 

“I don’t always feel strong.” You admitted quietly. 

“Only the foolish admit their own strength.” Loki whispered.

“...Does that mean Tony’s a fool?”

“Your words, not mine.”

A laugh bubbled up out of you at Loki’s words, and as your eyes met his, you noticed the loneliness you had seen before was gone. 

In their place was the warmth of a thousand suns. 

The two of you stood there, hands intertwined almost as if to keep the other afloat. Loki’s hands made yours seem small, but his were warm and soft and surprisingly gentle.

You closed you eyes, taking as much of this moment in as you could.

“I wish they’d let you outside.” You sighed quietly. “There’s so many shops and restaurants I think you’d like. You’d love Central Park, too.”

Loki frowned. “When is everyone due back?”

“In two days. Why?” 

You got a smirk in response. “Let’s go now.”

You let out a surprised laugh at Loki’s suggestion. It thrilled you to see this side of him.

“We can’t! Tony’s got cameras around the building, he’ll see us if we leave.”

Butterflies filled your insides for a brief moment as Loki suddenly winked at you. He raised his hand, which had begun to glow with a green hue, before snapping his fingers. Green sparks flashed briefly from the windows as he did so. 

“I believe Stark will be needing to replace his cameras once everyone returns. Where do you suggest we go first?” 

[soft--dragon]

Tree House Bros

Based on the headcannons some lovely people on discord and I discussed at an ungodly hour and I wanted to write something because the ideas we thought of were too adorable not to :D Jam and Anakin, this one’s for you guys ✊✊✊ Let’s goooooooo

Word Count: 1,964

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Charlie wouldn't be ashamed to admit that he has grown closer to Tommy. The boy was the human embodiment of sunshine, putting up a facade of brashness but really being soft underneath. He loved physical affection from his friends, something Charlie had been ecstatic about finding out. Hugs, hair ruffles, cuddles, Tommy was always willing to accept them. Charlie also discovered that praise would make the boy glow happily, so he took it upon himself to make sure he complimented the boy whenever he interacted with him. 

Charlie once proudly swept the boy up in a bear hug, yelling "LOOK AT THIS CHILD! THIS CHILD IS AMAZING!" All the while Tommy was flushed red but laughing at Charlie's loud claims. 

Charlie adored the teenager he'd managed to get so close to lately, to the point where he considered him his little brother. He'd been careful not to outright say that however. Wilbur always got scarily overprotective of Tommy whenever someone dropped the sibling bomb. His was more terrifying than Techno when he was in 'Big Bro Wilbs' mode. 

Still, Charlie thought of himself as Tommy's brother figure, alongside the multiple other people Tommy had cluelessly managed to adopt as siblings. And being a brother figure means there are certain rules and requirements you need to meet. 

One of which is knowing how to deal with a sad Tommyinnit. 

Charlie had started developing what he liked to call a 'Tommy Is Sad' radar and found the boy crying underneath a tree. He'd done what any good brother would and pulled him into a hug, comforted him, then helped him fix the issue that was causing him to be upset. Once that had been cleared up, Charlie had looked at the tree they were sitting under and decided right then and there that this would be the spot for them. 

The look on Tommy's face when Charlie revealed the tree house sitting in the oak tree branches would be a forever treasured memory. He'd hugged Charlie tightly, on the brink of tears that he quickly reassured the older they were purely from joy. The treehouse became their official meet up area. Anytime they needed each other for comfort, to vent, or to just hang out, the treehouse was the place to go. It had a massive slime plush that worked a beanbag for them, a large fluffy rug covering the floor and golden lanterns hanging from the ceiling. A chest sat in the corner stuffed with snack foods and drinks, their favorites of course. The treehouse was a treasured place for both of them. 

One day, Charlie was talking with Eret, then suddenly went stiff as a rod. 

"Charlie?" Eret blinked, "you good?"

"My T.I.S radar is beeping" Charlie said, turning on his heel and scanning the land quickly. 

"Your...your what?" Eret asked incredulously. 

"My brother needs a hug" Charlie rushed out his explanation, his eye catching a red and white shirt a little ways away. "Bye Eret!"

He bolted straight towards the sight of the bright sleeved clothing, leaving a very confused and slightly amused Eret in his wake. Charlie quickly approached the small cluster of trees where he spotted Tommy, slowing down so he could scan the area carefully. After walking a little further, he finally found the boy. He was curled in a ball underneath one of the tall trees, arms wrapped around his knees tightly and shoulders shaking. 

"Tommy?" Charlie crouched in front of the boy, cautiously reaching out to the boy. 

The boy flinched at his voice, tightening his grip on himself. "G-Go away Charlie" his voice shook with the broken, scared request. "P-Please I don't want to s-see anyone right now…" 

Charlie's heart ached when he heard a choked sob, Tommy hunched in on himself as he tried to muffle himself. Charlie bit his lip, looking down at the teen worriedly. He was clearly distraught, 

"Buttercup, can I pick you up?" Charlie asked softly, praying the boy said yes. He desperately wanted to hold his baby brother close and never let go until his tears had disappeared. 

Tommy raised his head slightly and Charlie felt his heart drop. Tommy's eyes were red and brimming with tears, his lip dented with bite marks and cheeks streaked with tear stains. He took a shaking breath in then nodded, slowly uncurling from his ball to raise his arms out to Charlie. The man gently looped the boy's arms around his neck and hefted him up. He held Tommy close who instantly pressed his face into Charlie's neck, taking in shallow breaths.  

Charlie's worry spiked further and quickly made his way to their treehouse. If anywhere could help the boy calm down it was there. 

Charlie was more than grateful they installed a pulley lift as the way to get into the treehouse. He gently set Tommy down on the large slime plush, placing his hand on the boy's head and brushing his thumb over Tommy's hair. 

"I'll be right back, gonna get you some water and snacks okay?" 

Tommy only nodded, curling in on himself again, sinking into the plush. Charlie dropped down to the chest and took out some cookies and water, quickly returning to his brother. Tommy was trying to dry his tears, only causing them to spread across his already stained face. Charlie dropped down in front of him, taking out a washcloth from his inventory. 

"May I?" He asked gently, holding up the cloth. 

Tommy studied it for a moment then nodded slowly, lowering his hands from his face, sniffing. Charlie placed his hand underneath Tommy's chin to tilt his head up. With gentleness only a brother could possess for his sibling, he carefully washed the tears from Tommy's face, apologizing softly when Tommy flinched slightly at the coolness of the damp material. 

Once Tommy's face was cleaned, Charlie offered him the water and cookies. They sat silently, Charlie keeping some distance between himself and Tommy in case he wanted space. Tommy nibbled on the baked goods, sniffing occasionally. 

"Are you gonna be okay?" Charlie asked quietly. 

Tommy swallowed his mouthful and flicked his slightly bloodshot eyes over to Charlie. 

"Yeah...no...I don't know…" he mumbled, subconsciously making himself smaller. "I don't know why I just broke."

Charlie looked at him sympathetically. "Some things can just pile up sometimes, it's nothing to be ashamed of Buttercup, it happens." 

Tommy smiled a little at the nickname but it disappeared as soon as it came. "Yeah it just never usually happens to me." 

Charlie watched his brother for a moment then opened his arms, holding them up. "C'mere." 

Tommy shuffled into the embrace, clinging to Charlie tightly once he leant against the older. Charlie wrapped the boy into his arms, holding him securely and firm but with the warmth and love Tommy deserved. 

"It happens to everyone Buttercup" Charlie reassured quietly. "It doesn't matter if it's common or not, breakdowns tend to sneak up eventually and it's healthy to have a bit of a cry every once and awhile." 

Tommy squeezed Charlie to him, nodding into his shoulder. "I don't like it though."

"And that's okay, I'd be a little concerned if you did" Charlie promised, then smiled and put on a Texan accent. "Have to lock ya up in the old prison cell for liking da breakdowns aye mate? Lil bit coo coo in the nogan for that one if ye ask me." 

Tommy giggled slightly into Charlie's shoulder making the older internally coo. The boy's giggles were the sweetest things you could hear. 

"What's got ya giggling like a hyena Tommy? Was it something I said? Nothin' funny about being thrown in yee ol' cell is there?"

The reply only got Tommy giggling more which in turn made Charlie chuckle. 

"Oh no! Seems I got a case of the giggles too! It's an infection! Tommy you're spreading a giggly disease! This is terrible! I must find a cure before it takes over the server!"

He gently spidered his fingers over Tommy's stomach and lower belly, grinning at the muffled squeal Tommy gave. 

"I think I've got it Tommy" Charlie began dramatically, "I think the cure is to tickle all the giggles out of you."

Tommy's laughter went higher at Charlie's words. "Nooooohohohoho" he groaned but his light hearted tone peppered with giggles let Charlie know he was okay. 

Charlie kept it relaxed and gentle, wanting Tommy to feel comfortable right now. Though he wanted the boy to laugh, he didn't want to exhaust him further by wrecking him. He gently pulled Tommy's back to his chest, hugging him from behind and softly scratching around his lower belly and sides. Tommy melted into the tickles, tipping his head back to rest against Charlie's shoulder as giggles spilled from his lips. 

"This okay?" Charlie asked, running his nails over Tommy's stomach. 

Tommy's giggles picked up slightly, sinking further into Charlie's chest. "Yeheheah" he murmured, "fehehehels nihihihice." 

Charlie felt his heart melt at the boy's words. How could one teenager be so cute?? 

Charlie massaged his fingers into Tommy's ribs, smiling when he squeaked through his giggles. He pressed into the divots and muscles of his ribcage, chuckling as Tommy squirmed against him. 

"Lehehess plehehease" Tommy pressed out between his heightened giggles.

Charlie complied instantly, moving back down to the sides of Tommy's stomach, wiggling his nails gently. Tommy melted into the touch, giggles calming again. 

"Thahahanks" he smiled up at Charlie. 

Charlie nudged Tommy's head with his cheek. "Of course Buttercup, only gonna do what makes you comfortable."

Tommy flushed slightly and a warm feeling blossomed in his chest at the genuine consideration for his feelings. Instead of answering he pressed his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, trying to hide his red cheeks. Charlie seemed to catch it however and cooed. 

"Naww, gotten a bit pink there Buttercup, you are so precious."

Tommy shook his head. "Nohohoho" he groaned, "I'm not." 

Charlie chucked, Tommy able to feel it rumbling from how heavily he was leaning on Charlie's chest. "I think everyone on the server would disagree with you on that one Buttercup, but whatever you say." 

He took a hand from Tommy's midsection to run it through the mop of curls on Tommy's head. Tommy arched his head up into the touch like a cat, a content hum emitting from his throat as his eyes fluttered closed. 

Charlie smiled at the sight. "Sleepy Buttercup?" He asked softly. 

"Mmmm" Tommy slurred, cuddling closer to the older. "Sleepy time?"

"Of course, I'll be here when you wake up" Charlie promised. 

Tommy smiled softly and nodded. "Okay...night Big C..."

"Sleep well Buttercup." 

It was a peaceful silence for a few minutes. Tommy leaned further into Charlie as his breathing evening out. His previous crying episode tiring him out and the gentle tickles easing him into sleep. Charlie kept gently carding his hand through his hair, messing with the blonde curls. 

'Suck it Soot' Charlie thought with a fond smile, 'bet you've never seen Tommy like this before.' 

Charlie opened his communicator and sent through a photo of Tommy sound asleep against him to Wilbur.

Pollen Boy

*Image file*

Hehehe look at himmmmm

He's so sweet Wil no wonder you adopted him as your little brother

Wiblur Scoot

Stop stealing Tommy Charlie >>:(

Pollen Boy

No <3

Wiblur Scoot

He's meant to be my Tommy

Pollen Boy

Sharing is caring Wil

Wiblur Scoot

He's my little brother

Pollen Boy

I like to think he's our little brother :D

Wiblur Scoot

Don't even think about it

Pollen Boy

Too late

I'm gonna get us matching hoodies

Wiblur Scoot

d o n t u d a r e

Pollen Boy

:3

I'm gonna get him socks too

Wiblur Scoot

CHARLIE NO

[fantasia-monogram]

Happy birthday (the cupcakes are ruined)

♥️ Jaeyoon x gender neutral reader.

♥️ Smut; just 2k words (!) of what I'd call comfort porn, lol. It's Jaeyoon's birthday. An awkward first time handjob with a little sprinkle of oral happens. Jaeyoon is a total sweetheart and the reader tries their best! You could almost take it as a crack fic, I guess I can't take anything seriously (and I imagine sexy time with Jaeyoon must be fun anyway).

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how he is in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

Baking cupcakes, decorating them, waiting for Jaeyoon to come back from work, then cuddling together and, if it escalated, an extra surprise the mere thought of made your heart beat faster... Through the three months of your relationship, you’ve already figured your boyfriend wasn’t big on celebrations, and his busy work schedule didn’t leave much time to elaborate plans anyway. That’s why your idea for the night was fairly simple.

Except, here you were, staring in disbelief at the burnt cupcakes. You could swear you only left the kitchen for two minutes, long before the set baking time. You carefully peeled each cupcake one from the silicone mold in hopes they could, somehow, still be salvageable. Well, you were in for a disappointment, as the burn had already reached way below the crust the moment you turned off the oven.

The sound of the front door opening caused you to hold your breath in horror.

“Baby, I’m home,” you heard Jaeyoon announcing. His voice was noticeably tired.

You froze, still holding one of the silicon molds, unsure of what to do.

“I’m gonna shower first, okay?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, instead going straight to the bathroom.

Two rooms away, you were trying to think of something. You must have lost track of time again, because it felt as if your boyfriend finished showering in seconds.

The moment you caught him standing in the doorway, you threw a kitchen towel over the tray and, for safety measures, moved to the side in a way that made you cover any proof of your failure.

“Happy birthday!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “By the way, the cupcakes are ruined.”

Jaeyoon blinked a couple times, then snorted, visibly amused.

“It’s fine, baby. Thank you anyway,” he said with a smile, approaching. He sneaked his arms around your waist, glancing over your outfit, which was a very bold word, considering it consisted of baby pink briefs and an oversized white T-shirt.

Another thing he wasn’t big on was wearing clothes at home. You were still warming up to the idea, so you always had to throw something on top (comfy sweats or T-shirts were acceptable, and he wasn’t really a fan of fancy underwear either - you appreciated that greatly). Jaeyoon, however, unashamedly walked around in briefs only. God, it wasn’t easy for you. You couldn’t say you didn’t like what you saw, but it was so distracting it almost forced you to keep eye contact with him.

Looking anywhere else would make you blush profusely.

You snatched his attention away by placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“There is still one more present I have for you…” you started, looking up at him.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling. Damn, those cute dimples…

As an answer, you glided your hand from between his exposed pecs, down his abs and happy trail, stopping at the edge of his underwear, cautiously hooking a finger under it.

“Hey, we don’t have to.” Jaeyoon kissed your forehead, lightly grabbing your wrist. “Haven’t you told me you don’t feel ready yet?”

“I’m not ready to go all the way,” you explained, looking to the side, “But I wanna take a little step forward tonight.”

You pulled out of his grip and, biting your lip, placed your hand on his already impressive bulge. You didn’t expect it to be so warm to the touch.

“Okay, maybe not so little”, you snorted.

“Are you sure?” Jaeyoon uttered, sounding a bit out of breath.

You nodded with a smile on your lips.

Your boyfriend, despite very obvious physical attraction to you, has always been a total sweetheart when it came to reaching next levels of intimacy. He knew you had no real experience and never pushed you into anything. It took you over a month to get from shy smooches on the cheek to actual making out, and even then, whenever he’d get too aroused, he’d stop in his tracks and ask you to let him cool down a bit. You almost couldn’t believe his patience, even though he’d insist he was just being a decent human being everytime - that wasn’t the experience you had with your exes, though.

This time, you had no intention to leave him with nothing.

“Do we go to the bedroom, or…” you stopped mid sentence, courage leaving you all of sudden.

“I don’t mind just staying in the kitchen,” he replied, planting another kiss, this time on the side of your neck. “It’s so nice and toasty in here after all that baking.” Another one. “Or maybe it’s just because I’m excited for your present.”

You felt a warm shiver spreading through your body. You motioned Jaeyoon towards the counter before the arousal could haze your mind completely.

A makeout session with a lot of tongue followed, with him leaning against the edge of the counter while you trapped him in place with your arms. You really felt in control despite the height difference, plus, it gave you a nice opportunity to squeeze his glorious butt from time to time - he seemed to like it a lot, moaning into your mouth each time you did that.

One particularly low moan encouraged you to slide your hands to his front. He kept you so occupied with his kisses that you pushed his briefs down almost absentmindedly, while you two stayed pressed tightly against each other.

The weight and warmth of Jaeyoon’s hard cock, that you could feel against your stomach even through the fabric of your shirt, made you break the kiss with a surprised gasp.

Jaeyoon giggled sweetly.

“I guess I did get a bit too excited, after all.”

He pulled back (not without pecking your cheek for a good measure) and carefully sat on the floor. After a short hiss because of the direct contact with the cool tiles, he leaned against the cabinet door below the counter.

Not breaking eye contact, he shamelessly spread his legs.

“So, what are we doing?” he asked with a wink.

Doing your best to hold back a nervous laugh, you sat in front of him, the lewd sight of your boyfriend sprawled for you like that making your head spin with desire. You never felt like this for any of your previous partners, but Jaeyoon absolutely deserved to take all of your firsts.

“I was… thinking…” you mumbled, finding it hard to not glance at his dick every now and then, “I just wanted to focus on you tonight… Maybe I could use my hands?”

You hesitantly looked into Jaeyoon’s eyes. The tender gaze he gave you caused your heart to swell with love.

He reached for your hands and held them delicately.

“Can’t wait, baby,” he whispered, “I’m going to guide you, okay?”

A chuckle escaped your mouth. He really couldn’t give up on any chance to hold your hands.

Not wasting any more time, you looked up at the counter. Conveniently, a jar of organic coconut oil was within your reach, so you grabbed it together with a spoon placed nearby.

“It’s fine to use this as lube, right?” you made sure, uncapping the jar. “I’ve read it somewhere over the Internet.”

“It’s more than fine,” Jaeyoon reassured you, tactfully omitting his amusement over your possible research.

Well, your search history was already messed up. It better be worth it.

Jaeyoon’s face was getting flushed; you’d find it cute if not for the situation you found yourself in.

You spooned a hefty amount of oil. After moving the jar out of the picture, you slathered the makeshift lube all over your palms.

“Where do we begin?”

In a matter of seconds, your hands were in Jaeyoon’s again. He guided your left hand to hold his cock at the base. The sight was mouth watering --- your palm looked so small against the thickness of his shaft, but you did your best, holding it firmly with the pressure suggested by Jaeyoon himself.

He made you circle your right hand around him, with your thumb resting against the underside. Here, the pressure applied wasn’t as hard, so your boyfriend started guiding you through the entire length with slow, careful strokes. The whole experience was so intense for you, even though you were the one pleasuring your boyfriend; his cock was so hard and hot, you could feel all the veins under your fingers, and the gentle guidance only made it feel even more intimate.

The strokes became faster and more desperate. Jaeyoon would let out a breathless moan every time you squeezed his cock near the top. Soon enough, when you brushed your thumb over the head, you noticed pearly droplets of precum smearing along with it.

You didn’t even realize how fast your breathing has become. You caught yourself letting out a quiet, breathy moan from time to time, now unable to look away from the filthy sight in front of you.

The best thing about it? Jaeyoon’s whines were becoming louder and more prolonged with each jerking move now. You could see his arms and thighs shaking.

“Let me…” you whispered, your voice hushed by the weight of your desire.

Jaeyoon let you take control, his hands now squeezed into fists, resting on his thighs. Since you got the gist of the stroking already, you dared to glance at your boyfriend’s face.

He looked divine and so vulnerable at the same time: his head thrown back, image of pure bliss on his face. His sculpted chest heaving for air. His abs quivering.

You couldn’t believe it was you who turned him into this gorgeous mess.

“Oh God…”, he moaned, eyelashes fluttering, heart-shaped lips just slightly open. “You’re doing amazing… Baby…”

You couldn’t hold back a giddy smile that beamed across your lips. Turning your gaze back at his cock, you saw - and felt, oh, you felt it so well - it twitch.

As another motion reached just under the crown, Jaeyoon’s hands were back on yours, this time stopping you from any movement.

“Stop... Wait...” he pleaded, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his chest. “Gonna cum…”

“Isn’t that like… the whole point?” you asked innocently. Jaeyoon looked back at you, wide-eyed.

He didn’t want you to move your hands anymore? Fine.

You licked your lips and leaned towards his shaft. Mustering up your courage, you kissed the tip tenderly, making a soft, wet sound.

Things happened quickly. You didn’t even get a chance to fully lean back to your previous position when you heard Jaeyoon whine loudly. You felt him tighten the grip on your wrists. Next thing you knew, he came in thick spurts on your chest and neck, some of it even hitting the lower side of your cheek.

You froze for a moment. Did you just really… bring him over the edge? With so little touching?

Jaeyoon’s long sigh snapped you out of your musings. He finally let his hands slide off yours. You let go of his spent cock, putting it down as gently as you could.

Your boyfriend tucked his fingers under your chin. He raised it so you could face him.

His relaxed smile was a tell-tale sign you did an amazing job.

“There is my birthday cupcake,” Jaeyoon murmured, smearing his cum on your face with his thumb, squishing your cheek a bit too much in the process. “With icing and stuff.”

You tried to playfully squirm away, but he firmly held your chin in place and leaned down to give you a deep, messy kiss.

Jaeyoon backed off a little to look into your eyes again. His gaze dropped down theatrically. You followed it, only to discover there was a wet spot on the light pink fabric of your briefs.

“It’s a moist one, too.”

Before you even thought of getting embarrassed, he hooked his arm tightly around your waist. He easily lifted you off the floor, only to seat you on the kitchen counter.

He situated himself between your spread legs.

“I better eat it before it gets all soggy.”

[artificialdaydreamer]

A somewhat late fic for @jonsimsandcats day.

Jon is a god of cats whose cat followers report that a beast has taken up residence in the wood outside of town and is causing trouble. Jon, unable to say no to helping cats agrees to get rid of this beast only to run into Martin, who is also searching for it.

Warnings for mild injuries to animals and people

—

Jon woke to find a pair of slitted eyes staring at him. It was not an unusual occurrence, he couldn’t go anywhere without the local cats greeting him, or letting him know of problems they were having. He was, after all, the god of cats. They were his followers and his messengers, and in return he gave them protection and knowledge. It was more unusual to not wake up with several cats sleeping on top of him. The tabby blinked slowly at Jon, he blinked back, and it settled on his lap, its fluffy tail swishing from side to side.

The building he’d fallen asleep in was technically a temple to him but humans rarely visited it so it had fallen into a state of disrepair. It was still a sanctuary for cats, they knew that within its walls they could be safe and warm while they slept, but the only other being that really came inside it was Jon. He tried to keep the fireplace lit in winter and set out bowls of fresh water, but there was only so much he could do. It wasn’t like he could fix the cracked windows and provide an unlimited supply of food, he just wasn’t that powerful.

The God of Cats and Curiosity was not a god people often prayed to, not until winter fell and mice invaded grain stores. Cat owners would occasionally set something on their mantle in offering to him, a saucer of milk or a piece of dried meat, but more often than not it was the cats themselves who honored him. He could understand what they said, and sometimes they were the only creatures he talked with for years. In a world where belief was what made a god strong it was a miracle he hadn’t faded away altogether.

“Hello, master,” a voice sounded inside Jon’s head as the cat purred. He stroked its ginger fur and it rubbed its head against his hand. “I have news from the others in town.”

“Oh?”

“They say a beast is lurking in the forest, it has already affected the supply of prey, and several cats who stumbled across it were wounded by it. If we cannot go hunt in the woods we won’t have enough food.” This was news to Jon, a beast in the forest? Not only was it killing animals it had hurt some of his followers, those he’d sworn to protect. His stomach churned at the thought of how they must have felt, had they prayed to him for help? Had he been too far away to hear them?

“Take me to them.” He started to get to his feet, the cat jumped off his lap as he straightened his clothes, making sure the hood of his blue cape covered his pointed ears completely. Despite being a god he couldn’t change his form, or hide the ears and tail that revealed what he was, so he relied on human clothes like skirts and hoods to disguise himself.

The tabby wound its way between his legs before heading towards the door, and Jon followed. The street was quiet, a few humans passed them but it seemed early enough in the day that a lot of them weren’t up. Turning down an alley he saw a pile of crates had been left in a niche and several cats had made themselves comfortable in it, there were even a few blankets and pillows. On one threadbare cushion lay a female tortoiseshell with cuts on her back, the wounds had scabbed over but dried blood streaked her fur and she couldn’t move without hurting.

“You poor thing.” Unwrapping the cloth belt from around his waist Jon dipped it into a dish of water someone had laid out nearby and began to dab at the cuts. The cat hissed, pupils narrowing into slits, but she didn’t scratch him. She knew who he was and what he was doing here. It took hardly any effort to soothe the tortoiseshell, to numb the pain as he cleaned her wounds. The last thing he wanted was to heal the cuts only to have her get sick because he hadn’t ensured they were dirt-free first.

“Thank you, master.” The tortoiseshell butted his hand with her head. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, I apologize for letting you get hurt in the first place.”

“That was not your fault, master. You could not have known the beast would start lurking in the forest.” The cat shook her head, her tail sticking straight up. “The world is a dangerous place, you cannot be everywhere, even if you are a god.”

Sighing, Jon nodded, his own tail flicking from side to side in agitation. She was right, but it still hurt to know that he could not protect all of his followers from harm. Despite being a god he wasn’t very powerful, people just didn’t pray to him enough. He could look through the eyes of other cats nearby and bless them with safety for a limited time, but his power was finite. Anything more than a league away from him was hard to sense, although it hadn’t always been that way. “I’m looking for the beast, would you mind telling me where you encountered it?”

“I can show you.” Getting to her feet the tortoiseshell stretched deeply.

“Lead the way.”

—————

The forest was dense, trees crowded tight together and thick grasses that made it hard to maneuver, if it wasn’t for the narrow footpath made by other travelers Jon would be miserable. A short distance ahead of him the tortoiseshell cat led the way, showing no sign that her earlier injuries were still paining her. Every so often sunlight would find some way through the thick canopy of branches overhead and illuminate their surroundings, although they both could see in the dark just fine. Jon wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking, but when huge pawprints had been practically gouged in the path he insisted the cat ride on his shoulders for the rest of the journey.

“What kind of animal is this beast?” Jon muttered, ihe tracks were bigger than his hand, and while they appeared to be made by some kind of dog they were far larger than most he’d seen. As they progressed Jon saw several trees with claw marks on them and he started to feel anxious. Sure, he was technically a god, but he’d never really been in a fight before. He wouldn’t necessarily die, not from physical wounds, and he did heal faster than the normal human but that didn’t mean he wanted to get hurt. He didn’t even have a weapon to defend himself.

Somewhere in the trees ahead of them a branch snapped, then another. Jon braced himself as he heard footsteps approaching him, growing faster and louder until he saw a huge brown thing burst out from behind a bush and race towards where he stood. It was all he could do to cast a simple protective spell on the cat and drop her on the ground before the thing knocked him over. His head hit hard-packed earth and the world went dark.

“-right?” A voice sounded from somewhere nearby, sounding concerned but Jon was in too much pain to register much more. He willed his body to heal itself, to reduce the swelling and stop his head from throbbing with every beat of his heart. Slowly, agonizingly slow, he found that he could open his eyes, although the world itself was a blur of green and black. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

Just as his eyes adjusted he saw a face staring down at him, their expression worried. A human? Sitting up so fast his head swam Jon checked to see that his hood was still in place. It had shifted somewhat when he fell, but his ears were thankfully still covered. The human had curly orange hair and a round, friendly face, although they still looked anxious. Next to them sat a dog, a huge fluffy thing, even sitting it came up to Jon’s chest, with light-brown fur everywhere but its face and ears, which were black. Was this the beast?

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” The human’s voice was high-pitched and laced with concern. Jon shook his head slightly, but winced as pain sparked behind his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Regardless of how worried this human was, Jon didn’t want them looking at him too closely, the last thing he needed was for them to find out just what he was. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” They looked surprised. “I was looking for my dog; they ran off and, well, it’s not like I can stop him if he wants to go somewhere.”

“You own this thing?”

“Well, I guess you could say that. His owners couldn’t take care of him because they had another baby on the way and...” The human trailed off, freckled cheeks flushing pink. “Anyway, I’ve taken in strays before so they felt comfortable giving him to me.”

Jon didn’t really care about where the dog came from, but looking at the size of its paws gave him an idea. “I’ve been told there’s some sort of beast attacking animals in the woods, and I found tracks and claw marks on the path-”

“It’s not him! I know what you’re talking about- I’ve had to take in a whole bunch of wounded animals recently- so I came out here to try and find this ‘beast’ too.” Their voice rose an octave, eyes widening with fear. “I brought Silas with me because I thought he could maybe track it somehow? I know he’s not really a hunting dog but still...”

“Has it?” He scanned the ground nearby and found the tortoiseshell cat hiding behind a tree just off the path. Kneeling down Jon held out a hand to her. “I’m sorry, darling. Are you alright?” The cat approached him cautiously, eyes darting to the dog every so often, and he scooped her up in his arms.

“What?”

“Has it tracked the beast?” It was hard to keep from rolling his eyes, Jon didn’t care much for rambling when he had something to do. He absentmindedly stroked the tortoiseshell’s head, trying to reassure it.

“N- No... I thought he had but he just found you.” The human gave a shy smile. “How do I know you’re not the beast?”

Jon stiffened, his ears flattening against his hair and his tail bristling. In his arms the cat hissed angrily. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Calm down, let me handle this.” It was clear this human had no idea they’d just insulted a god, but as much as Jon wanted to curse them for the accusation he was here for a different reason. “If you don’t have anything helpful to say then this is where we part.” He continued to comfort the cat as he pushed past them and continued on the path.

“W- Wait!” Glancing over his shoulder Jon saw the human was following him. “I mean, we both have the same goal, don’t we? We both want to find this beast and stop it from hurting the local animals. Why don’t we look for it together?”

“I can’t stop you from following me.” Jon sighed and tugged his hood farther forward. He had a feeling that he’d made the wrong decision, but he’d spoken the truth. Besides, this human was larger than he was, with them and the dog he might stand a chance against this beast.

They walked in silence for a while, but like all good things it didn’t last. “I just realized I never got your name; I’m Martin, Martin Blackwood.”

“Jon.” He didn’t feel much like talking, especially since he was trying to listen for any strange noises.

“Just... Just Jon?” The human- Martin- seemed dissatisfied at his answer.

“That’s all I’m willing to share with you.”

“Right, that’s fine,” A pause. “Are you a man?” When Jon glared at them Martin turned bright red. “It’s just, I don’t want to misgender you, that’s all. I’m a man, he/him pronouns.”

“I don’t really see the point of gender.” Jon sighed, pulling on his hood as his ears were flicking enough from irritation he feared it might fall down. “He/they, I guess.”

“Got it.” Martin was a few paces behind, his footsteps louder than Jon’s. “I’m guessing you’re also an animal lover, given that you’re also searching for this beast.” Jon wanted to scream, could this human not be quiet for five minutes?

“Yes, which is why I’m trying to track it. That being said, if it makes noise I will be unable to hear it because you keep talking.” Glancing over his shoulder Jon saw Martin stiffen, his cheeks still flushed from embarrassment. Thankfully he didn’t say anything though, and Jon could have cried from relief.

They continued on, neither of them making a sound as they trudged through the woods, occasionally the dog would run ahead and sniff at a tree or patch of earth but thankfully it didn’t bark. Eventually they arrived in a clearing only to find more tracks in the dirt, the same ones Jon had seen on the path. He was about to say something to Martin when some bushes rustled and a giant wolf leapt towards him.

Having a huge animal knock him over once already that day Jon was more alert, and while he managed to avoid the worst of the beast’s attack its claws still managed to slash through his tunic and he could feel hot, sticky blood running down his side. The pain would come later, once the shock went away, but he was glad to have only gotten minor injuries as he stumbled backwards, clutching the cat to his chest and making sure his hood hadn’t fallen off. His ears were flattened against his hair again and his heart was racing.

“Jon!” Martin rushed to him, blue eyes wide as he took in the wound. Jon pushed him away, staring at the wolf in horror. The beast was as large as a horse, its fur so streaked with dirt and blood, mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Still, even as his skin knit back together and his heart pounded in his chest he sensed something off about it. Not just its size, but something about its essence was wrong.

Martin had grabbed a broken branch and was holding it like a club, the dog was growling and looked ready to attack the wolf, but Jon held out a hand. “Don’t!”

“That thing nearly killed you!”

“It’s cursed, Martin, it’s not doing this because it wants to.” Placing the tortoiseshell on the ground he took a few cautious steps towards the wolf, one hand outstretched. It snarled at him, crouching down as though preparing to strike again, but Jon tried to reach out with his powers. He was a cat god, but he hoped he could at least calm the thing down from whatever blind rage it had succumbed to. As he drew nearer he saw something wrapped around the beast’s neck, a leather cord so dirty it was almost indistinguishable from its fur. The energy emanating from the cord was the cause of the strange feeling he’d sensed, could that be the source of the curse? “We need to get the cord off its neck.”

“How are we supposed to do that? I doubt we can get close enough.” Martin frowned, but at least he didn’t seem like he was going to attack the wolf.

“Do you have a knife of some sort?” Jon supposed that being the god of cats it was unusual for him to not have “claws” of some sort, but he didn’t like hurting living things. In the future he might start carrying something around, just in case he needed it.

“Oh, yeah! Hang on.” Martin dropped the branch and fumbled at his waist before tossing something to Jon, who barely managed to catch it. Fortunately the knife was still in its leather sheath, the wooden handle was worn but the blade gleamed as though it had been freshly sharpened. Upon seeing it the wolf snarled, baring its teeth and crouching down as though readying to pounce.

“That’s what I was worried about.” Jon sheathed the knife again and approached the beast slowly, trying not to startle it. Fortunately the wolf did not attack, but it didn’t relax either, its ice-blue eyes focused on him.

When he was in front of it he grasped the leather cord in one hand and had to resist the urge to cry out in agony. Jon wasn’t the target of this particular curse, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the malice that had gone into it. A deer, sacred to the Goddess of the Wild, had been slain by accident and the hunter had been turned into a bloodthirsty monster in return. The wolf howled, out of pain or sadness he didn’t know, but he managed to pull out the knife and cut the cord. It fell to the ground, turning into a pile of ash, and Jon felt his knees buckle.

When his vision cleared Martin was kneeling next to him, and before him lay a woman. Her clothes were tattered, caked in blood and dirt, her blond hair coming out of its messy braid. The dog sniffed at her prone form, occasionally nudging her cheek with his nose or pawing at her as though it was concerned. Jon could see that she was breathing, but no doubt she was exhausted from whatever the curse had done to her.

“This is the beast?” Martin looked taken aback, that the monster who’d slaughtered and wounded animals was just a human. “She looks so... innocent.”

“Everyone looks innocent when they’re asleep. She’s a hunter, but she accidentally chose the wrong prey and angered a god.” Jon sighed, getting to his feet and once more checking his hood.

The cat wound its way between his legs, rubbing up against them and purring. “You did it master!”

“I can carry her back to town.” Jon blinked, not sure he’d understood Martin. “What? We can’t just leave her here, it’d be best to bring her to a healer so someone can take a look at her.”

“Right, of course.” He’d forgotten that humans were so fragile, although Jon could sense that some part of the curse had not left the woman. She had been changed by it, marked by the wild.

The trip back through the forest was quiet, neither of them felt much like talking as they picked their way through the trees. The sun had started to set and Jon had to rely on his night vision to guide them, all the while hoping that Martin wouldn’t ask how he could see so well in the dark, or notice the unusual shine to his eyes. Once they’d entered town a handful of cats approached him, all of them thanking him for getting rid of the beast.

“Wow,” Martin gaped at the welcome party. “Cats really like you, huh?”

“You could say that.” Jon replied, unable to hide his smirk.

It was fortunate that the healer recognized the woman and agreed to treat her free of charge because Jon had no money whatsoever. His followers were mainly cats, and it wasn’t like they were in the business of giving him spare change. The healer called the woman “Daisy,” although the name didn’t seem to fit the huge wolf she’d been mere hours ago. Then again, Jon wasn’t exactly the best name for a god of cats and it was still his name.

It was only when Martin stopped at a crossroads and pointed down one of the streets did Jon remember that their partnership had been temporary. “I live down that way, I’m sure if you ask someone they’ll be able to point you in my direction.”

“Right...” It was strange, he’d only known Martin for a short amount of time and yet he felt a pang of sadness in his chest. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Goodnight, Jon.” Martin smiled and began to walk away, the dog bounding off down the street.

“Goodnight, Martin.”

When he returned to his temple and settled down on the pile of blankets he called a bed Jon thought about his day. While he’d originally set off to find the beast because his followers had asked it of him, he hadn’t actually done anything godlike. Sure, he’d figured out that the wolf was cursed and managed to break the cord, but it hadn’t really been that difficult. Apart from getting injured twice, that was. Jon thought of Martin’s kindness when the dog had knocked him over, of his flushed face when he was embarrassed, of his bravery when preparing to fight the beast. As his eyes drifted shut he considered how odd it was, that after being a god for so long it only took one day for him to suddenly feel so very human.

——

One day I will not get ideas for an event the day of said event. Credit to the Magnus Writer’s server for the plot bunny, and thanks to @ravendarkwood for the beta!

[marmosa]

evenings with you.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: none!

A/N: harry potter won’t be the only thing i write about, but for now it might be since a few of my friends are really rekindling my love for the universe (not jkr tho, fuck that bitch).  

***

The common room buzzed with people running about, chatting among themselves and waiting impatiently for their slower friends so they could make their way down to the stand for this week’s Quidditch match. The fireplace crackled nearby, a sharp undercurrent beneath all the busy conversation. 

“You know [y/n],” Evie spoke up, leaning her head back over the armrest of the couch, “red eyeliner really suits you, you should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you darling, I’m not so sure it’ll become a regular part of my attire, but it sure does make spirit wear even more fun to wear,” [y/n] chuckled, glancing at her reflection in the tiny handheld mirror she kept with her at almost all times. 

“Whatever you say. I personally think that that Weasley boy you fancy is going to love it, he does seem like the type to enjoy bold colors,” Evie hummed pretending to ignore the daggers being shot at her form [y/n]’s eyes. 

“Would you quiet down! What if he hears you? We’re all Gryffindor’s you absolute fool,” [y/n] hissed, reaching forward and imitating a strangling motion. 

“I’ll start quieting down once you two go on a proper date, it’s so boring that you’re still taking this long to have finally made a first move,” Evie drawled, pushing herself into a sitting position, “besides-,” she paused and small smirk drawing onto her features, “speak of the red-headed devil.” 

[y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she quickly composed herself, panicking on not only what she planned to say but why he’d decided to approach them in the first place. 

“Hey Evie,” Fred chimed cheerily, turning to [y/n] with a more reserved gentleness, “hey [y/n]. You two heading down the pitch yet? The game starts soon and we’re gonna need as much support as we can get.” 

“You boys don’t need the flattery, your ego’s already too big from the last two games you absolutely crushed,” Evie scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully at Fred’s request. 

“Hey, you never know how things can turn out. One wrong move and our winning streak could fall apart!” Fred feigned offence at her remark, placing his hand over his chest. 

“If you really need a good luck charm, I heard [y/n]’s kisses are one of the most lucky charms there is,” Evie teased, sticking her tongue out at her now hot-faced friend. 

“I’m not kissing anybody, especially not a quidditch player, it’ll go straight to their head,” [y/n] muttered, tipping her head up in pride to prove her point, “besides, Fred here does just fine without any sort of charm.” 

“Now don’t be that way [y/n], that’s just rude. You know I’ll take any luck I can get though, if the offer still stands,” Fred teased, plopping down on the sofa next to her and tapping his cheek suggestively. 

“Watch it,” [y/n] grit, elbowing him in the side.

“Hey! Careful with the merchandise! I have a match to win,” Fred frowned, holding his hands up to protect himself from any other preemptive attacks. 

“Whatever,” [y/n] muttered, rolling her eyes, “If you so desperately need a good luck charm, here.” She reached behind her and un-clipped her necklace, dangling the golden pendent with the heart charm at the end in front of him. 

“Are you sure,” Fred whispered, eyeing the chain cautiously, “I wouldn’t want to break it.” 

“It’s not fragile, besides, you can repair it with a quick spell can’t you?” She grinned, letting the chain sink into his palm. 

He pressed his lips together to hide his smile, making quick work of putting on the necklace and tucking the pendent under his collar, grinning widely at an amused [y/n], “I have a good feeling about this match.”

“You say that about every match,” [y/n] teased. 

“I mean it this time,” Fred beamed, looking up as Oliver called his name from the portraits entrance, “Well, I must take my leave. Send me your luck from the stands ladies, I bid you adieu,” He nodded before jogging off, scooping his helmet off a nearby table as he ducked out of the common room. 

Before [y/n] could get lost in her thought, Evie squealed loudly and nearly pounced on her, squeezing her arm, “You two were so flirting! That has got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen, I can’t believe you two haven’t made out already!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” [y/n] bit back a smile, leaning her head onto her friends shoulder as she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of their small interaction, “Anyways, we have a match to go watch, up and at it now, yeah?” 

“Hot chocolate and gossip afterwards?” Evie asked, shimmying excitedly. 

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else,” [y/n] grinned.

***

“YOU COULD’VE HIT THAT, FOCUS WEASLEY, FOCUS!” [y/n] screamed from the stands, her cries probably getting drowned out among the other student’s commotion. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have teased him so much, it might’ve rubbed off,” Evie sighed, nudging [y/n] slightly, trying to gain her attention. 

“Probably,” [y/n] muttered, furrowing her brows as she eyes the scoreboard, the players, and the commentators, “should’ve given him that kiss,” [y/n] continued, more to herself than anyone else. 

The game continued on, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff holding their own as the time ticked by to the end. As soon as it had started it had finished, Gryffindor scoring the victory by less than 15 extra points, relief flooding over the students packing into the stands. 

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” [y/n] called out from the stands, as the students jeered and began making their way out of the stands and back into the castle.

Fred caught her eye as he soared around on his broom, beaming wider than she could’ve hoped for, waving at her frantically and nearly falling off his broom in the process. She laughed to herself, muttering a few insults under her breath as Evie dragged her along, insistent on getting their favored spot in the commons before anyone else could. 

The Gryffindor victory did nothing short of energize the entire house, the common room nearly shaking with joy and pride, drinks and snacks alike being shared like the last supper they’d ever have. 

Evie cheered with everyone else, still bounding on the same adrenaline high everyone else was. She plopped back down on the couch, wrapping an arm around [y/n]‘s shoulder, “Have you seen Weasley yet?” she questioned as quiet as she could against the deafening noise of the common room. 

“Nope, not yet, he’s probably off doing something stupid with the boys,” [y/n] shrugged, a little bummed she didn’t get to see him, but still overjoyed with the outcome of the match nonetheless. 

The night passed by in a blur. A few hours packed full of speeches, songs, jokes, stories, and food, everyone eventually falling upon the inevitable crash of exhaustion. Nearly everyone but a few stragglers had retired to their rooms for the night, the common room surprisingly clean for how much chaos had already ensued. 

“I’m heading to bed, you coming?” Evie offered, pushing herself off the couch and onto her feet, sore from the hours of insistent standing. 

“I think I’m going to hang around for a bit, you head up. I’ll make sure I’m as quiet as mouse when I return, won’t wake a soul,” [y/n] promised, waving goodbye to her friend as she snuggled into the couch, the crackling of the fireplace becoming the background to her nightly pondering session. 

She remained engulfed in thought as she recalled the events of today, he face running hot as she remembered Fred’s witty remarks along with the thought that he was indeed wearing her necklace. Her mind reeled enough that she didn’t notice the mop of red hair rapidly approaching her as silent as could be. 

“[y/n]!” Fred whisper-yelled, startling her out of her reverie.

“Shit-! Fred? Don’t scare me like that you moron,” She hissed, shooting her leg out to kick at his defenseless legs. 

He hopped backwards and situated himself on the couch as soon as she’d stopped kicking, “Still got some fight in you huh, the party didn’t wear you out?” 

“Of course it did, I’m just,” She shrugged, unsure of what to answer, “congrats on the win today. You did a,” she paused, pondering her words, “average job. Could’ve been better.” 

Fred’s mouth dropped open as he absorbed her words, shocked and amused that she’d jab at him like that, “You are just being a little spitfire today, aren’t you?” 

“And what’s it to you, Weasley,” She hummed, turning her body to face him, knees still hugged tightly to her chest. 

“I’m starting to think you hate me,” He mumbled, pouting and leaning his head onto the back of the couch. 

“Close but not quite. You can be charming,” She smiled, “sometimes.”  

“You know what,” he sighed, “I’ll take it. Perhaps me keeping your necklace in tact will earn me a few points?” 

He pulled the charm out from under the collar of his hoodie, holding it out like a medal of honor. [y/n] leaned forward and held the pendant in her palm, examining the gold heart for any dents or scratches. Fred held his breath, batting his eyes a few times at how close she was, the smell of cinnamon and sugar heavy coming faintly from her. 

“It seems you did keep it in tact, I’m impressed,” She grinned, letting the pendant swing back onto his chest, tapping it reassuringly with her fingertips. 

“I-uh, thanks,” He stumbled over his words, still recuperating from her closeness, “Do you- do you want it back?” 

“Hm? Oh no, you can keep it. I have a feeling you could use some luck on your side,” She hummed, leaning her chin into the divot between her two knees, looking up at him with inviting eyes. 

“I’ll cherish it until my dying day,” He proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulder for a moment to enlarge his frame. 

“I have no doubt in my mind that you will,” she giggled, her heart being overtaken by a fuzzy feeling, head lolling to the side. 

Fred glanced down at her sleepy face, her eyes blinking in a slow manner and her body moving sluggishly, “I think you’re ready for bed.” 

“Says who? I’m not even tired,” [y/n] yawned, defeating her entire point. 

“Here, I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll give you my hoodie, just like you gave me your necklace, if you go to sleep right now,” Fred offered, heart hammering in his chest as he realized just how direct he was probably being with such a request. 

Her eyes widened slightly before sinking back down, a lazy smile pulling its way onto her lips, “It’s a deal.” 

Fred grinned widely, yanking his hoodie off by the back of the collar, stretching his arms up and over his head to get it off. 

[y/n] couldn’t help but catch the quick glimpse of his toned abdomen that wormed its way into the open as he forced off his hoodie. She quickly composed herself, trying to not let him see how her eyes were nearly ready to pop out of their sockets. 

“Here, I hope my cologne isn’t too overbearing,” He handed her the hoodie, the locket now on display in the center of divot in his neck. 

She took it graciously and inhaled his scent out of curiosity, her brain going fuzzy at the lovely smell of ceder-wood, evergreen, and mint that filled her nose, “It’s actually really nice, keep buying whatever cologne this is.” 

“Why thank you, that’s actually very kind of you,” Fred smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” She smiled, “well, a deal’s a deal. Off to bed I go.” 

“Yeah, Of course.”

The two of them stood up, [y/n] pulling on the hoodie and basking in the glow that was Fred. He looked down at her as she fiddled with the sleeves, turning side to side to get a feel for it, the gesture itself making Fred’s face burn red. 

“I think I look ready to take on the world, what’s your take?” She chuckled, being slightly taken aback when she looked back up to see Fred covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, the tips of his ears burning red. 

“It, yeah, it looks great. Grey suits you, you should wear it more often,” he nodded, still refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] nodded, suddenly embarrassed to have even agreed to take it in the first place, “Well, goodnight Fred.” 

“Goodnight [y/n],” he passed her a tight-lipped smile as she shuffled off to her dormitory, he mind suddenly clouded with doubt. 

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” Fred muttered to himself, watching her disappear around the bend, cursing under his breath and heading off to his own dormitory. 

***

“HE GAVE YOU HIS HOODIE!” Evie shouted, shaking [y/n] awake as their other two roommates chuckled to themselves, running around as they got ready for breakfast. 

“That he did,” [y/n] replied in a groggy voice, stretching out her limbs as Evie paced back and forth next to her bed, going on about “a date not being far behind” or something of the sort. 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll there chief,” [y/n] sat up and rubbed at her sunken eyes, “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Evie stopped dead in her tracks and turned to look at [y/n] with complete disbelief, “You’re kidding right? That’s the most idiotic thing that has ever come out of your mouth, and you’ve said some pretty dumb shit.” 

“It’s not idiotic! He looked at me weird when I put it on and he probably regret it anyways, it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll just return it to him when we go to breakfast,” [y/n] muttered, sitting up and beginning to work on her morning routine. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Evie scoffed, returning to whatever she had been doing before she decided to corner [y/n]. 

“Mhm,” [y/n] replied. 

The Great Hall was already bustling with students when the two girls arrived, both of them eyeing where they’d be sitting. They settled on a spot between two second years and a few people from the upper years, plopping down in the seats. 

[y/n] couldn’t help by feel nauseous as she cradled the sweatshirt in her lap, glancing up and down the table for the boy that was most likely obliviously responsible for making her regret every advance she’d ever made on him. 

Evie looked over at her poor friend, reaching over and rubbing her back softly to try and sooth the obvious nervous knot that had tied itself in her stomach, “It’s okay. Things will work out just fine.” 

Evie had her downfalls as a friend, insisting that [y/n] be bolder and more direct with the way she carried herself day to day, but when it came down to it she loved her friends dearly and would put them above anything else. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] muttered, poking the french toast around on her plate. 

The two finished their food quickly, [y/n] not taking much time at all as she had chosen not to eat very much anyway. As they made their way out to go spend some free time before their first class of the day, the same mop of fiery red hair made its appearance. 

“Hey [y/n], Evie, how’re you on this fine morning,” Fred smiled, stopping in his tracks as his brother George and their pal Seamus continued on their way to secure spots at the table.

“Just fine thank you Fred,” Evie smiled softly, “I was actually heading to the library to study before my potions exam, so I’ll leave you and [y/n] to it,” she gave [y/n]’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before heading off. 

“Good morning [y/n],” Fred chirped, a nervous edge to his voice as he stared down at [y/n]. 

“Good morning Fred,” [y/n] smiled halfheartedly, rocking back and forth on her heels as she worked up the courage to confirm her supposed rejection. 

“What’cha got there,” Fred quipped, pointing to the object clutched in [y/n]’s hands behind her back, “you’re not hiding things from me now, are ya?” 

“Not at all,” [y/n] chuckled sadly, “It’s, uhm, it’s actually your hoodie,” she held it out in front of her, refusing to make direct eye contact with Fred. 

Fred’s face fell, not even trying to hide his disappointment at this sudden turn of events, “Oh,” he reached forward and took it from her. 

“I figured you’d probably want it back, and I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, cause y’know were not, like dating, or anything. And you probably wanted it back anyway, it was stupid of me to take it in the first place,” She started to ramble, heart wrenching at the absolutely broken expression Fred was giving her right then, her mind screaming abort as she wished she could have just taken everything back right then and there. 

“I get it,” Fred muttered, his words clipped short, “Thanks for the hoodie back.” 

Without another word Fred turned on his heel and walked into the Great Hall, leaving behind a cracked [y/n] and blanket of regret. [y/n] started choking up, swiveling around and sprinting to her dormitory, her robes billowing behind her. 

What had she done?

***

The next week had passed by painfully slow. Each day felt like a stab to the gut, the blade being turned deeper and deeper into the wound. [y/n] was miserable, no matter what he friends tries, she was a lost cause, sucked into her own regret. Evie did everything in her power to get [y/n] to warm up again, but she knew it was no particular use. 

Fred had chosen to give [y/n] the silent treatment, even going as far as to avoid her in the halls, common room, quidditch field, you name it. That week had absolutely broken the two of them. [y/n]  had never been so upset over a guy before, that it was exhausting for her to even focus on anything else but the sour taste in her mouth. Fred wasn’t taking it well either, his brother having to practically drag him out of bed for quidditch practice.

This week had a rapidly approaching quidditch match, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw, and the prospects were not looking too well on Gryffindor’s side. Students had taken to relaxing a bit as they slowed down school work to let the quidditch players prep and the other students rest. 

Evie had to go to breakfast herself the morning before the quidditch math as [y/n] had opted to sleep in as she had two free periods that morning. [y/n] wanted to curl up and cry more than anything, the locket she’d lent Fred swinging beneath her shut eyelids almost taunting her. She knew prospects were looking grim for their victory, Oliver Wood would have a breakdown nearly every other day leading up to the match, and she could only wonder how Fred was taking the teams fruitless practices. 

Fred, on the other hand, spent that morning curled up in the common rooms, toying with the locket as he stared out the windows towards the field he’d be playing on later that day. He felt sick to his stomach, his good luck charm feeling less than lucky that day. More than anything, he wondered what he’d done to get her to be so repulsed by his advance, his eyes watering at the notion that she’d done nothing more than respond to him in a friendly manner that he’d just selfishly misinterpreted. 

The quidditch match had finally arrived, the team stalking out of the common room as the other students sat in lackluster enthusiasm, a few of the upper years demanding they show at least a little spirit to hype the team. It was a wasted effort, but the stand still vibrated with anticipation nonetheless. 

The match came and went and it was painful to watch to say the least. Gryffindor did so poorly it was as if you were watching a completely different team. Students left the stands that afternoon, solemn and sad, totally bummed at the outcome. 

[y/n] got caught in the current and ended up at the back of the pack as they filed out of the stands, her hands tucked in her pockets to keep them warm from the cool breeze. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and felt a pang in her chest as she recalled just how cozy she’d felt in Fred’s hoodie. Cursing under her breath, she descended the steps, lost in her own mind, completely overlooking the quidditch team that appeared behind her. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see a mop of red hair, but quickly calmed down when she realized it was the other twin, “Hey George,” She muttered sympathetically. 

“Hey [y/n],” He smiled weakly, obviously torn down by the loss. 

“Sorry for the loss. We’re proud of you guys either way,” She reassured him, reaching over and squeezing him in a side hug. 

He leaned into her and smiled softly, “Thank you. I appreciate the consolation. But, uh, I think Fred needs it more,” he nodded his head backwards towards the back of the group, Fred hanging his head low with his brows furrowed painfully close.

[y/n] was taken aback, but swallowed her pride nonetheless and nodded understandingly, excusing herself as she carefully pushed through the crowd, until she ended up at the back.

“Hey,” she whispered, clutching her hands in front of her. 

Fred looked up, his face wet with tears, quickly wiping them off with the back of his hand as he realized who he was talking to, “[y/n]? I thought you already went in?” 

“Nope, got caught up in the surge,” she chuckled. 

“Oh,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” she chewed on her bottom lip, concluding on her choice of words, “can we talk?” 

Fred wanted nothing more than to say no and run away, his heart wrenching at the inevitable conversation they were going to have where she turned him down gently in that smooth voice she always used when she wanted to be empathetic, but he knew it was unavoidable, “Sure.”

The two broke off from the crowd and settled in a small study room, a hall or two away from the boys changing room where he’d deposited his broom and helmet. They sat on one of the couches that was pushed against the wall, [y/n] with her knees facing Fred who’d rigidly sat facing forward. 

“I’m sorry about the-,”  [y/n] began, only to be cut off. 

“I know you’re here to reject me and I’m sorry I if I ever made you uncomfortable with my advances, it was never my intention to make you feel bad, so you don’t have to say anything or pity me because it’s fine, I should have know from the beginning, and quite frankly-,” Fred began to ramble, all his feelings tumbling out at once, his filter failing him. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Slow down darling, that wasn’t even where I was going to start,” she backtracked, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers, “I was going to say sorry for the game. I was going to build up to that, but, what do you mean I’m here to reject you?” 

Fred finally looked up from his lap and over at her, his face starting to flame a bright red, “oh, I’m sorry.” His eyes started to well up and he exhaled deeply, trying to blink the tears back, but ultimately failing. 

“Oh, come here darling,” she cooed, pulling him to her as he cried into her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly to his chest. 

They sat like that for a while, Fred dumping all his bottled up emotions into [y/n]’s shoulder while she rubbed gentle circles into his back. Her hand traced up and rubbed at the nape of his neck, fluffing up the curls that lay there. When it seemed like he’d finally gained some composure, she pulled back, sliding her hands up to cup his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry I ignored you for so long,” He whispered, grasping her wrists ever so softly as she thumbed away the lingering tears on his cheek. 

“And I’m sorry I did too,” She muttered, frowning slightly, “I never thought your advances were uncomfortable. I relished them, actually,” she chuckled awkwardly, biting back her own tears now, “I returned the hoodie and said those shitty things because I didn’t know what to do when you looked at me like that. I thought “there was no way he likes me that much” and I convinced myself I was right.” 

She dropped her hands and started rubbing furiously at her eyes, the pent up emotions finally shoving their way out. Fred pulled her close once more, pressing her head into his chest as she cried into his shirt, his hand caressing her hair reassuringly. 

“I ignored you because I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Fred confessed as she calmed down, “I liked you so much that the thought of you not wanting anything more hurt more than anything. I couldn’t fathom how stupid I’d been, because I didn’t want to. And when you said those things it was like the final nail in the coffin, I realized I had to come to terms with your rejection.” 

“You like me?” [y/n] muttered, looking up at him, somehow in awe. 

“Have I not made that clear enough yet?” Fred chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head, “we’re hopeless. Absolutely and completely hopeless.”

She broke into laughter as he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the couch with him, a shrill giggle leaving her lips as she fell along with him, pressed to his chest.

“Evie was right, I am an idiot,” [y/n] sighed, pushing herself up so she was eye level with Fred. 

“The most idiotic, idiot I know,” Fred concurred, giggling when she gave him an offended look, “Okay maybe not the most idiotic.” 

“You’re impossible,” she huffed, glancing away from him. 

“And you’re infuriating,” Fred muttered, grabbing her chin gently and turning her to face him. 

She watched in silence as he thumbed over her lips, still wet from the tears that had fallen down her face moments ago. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“I though you’d never ask,” she breathed a sigh of relief, leaning down and connecting their lips. 

It was salty and slow, both of them moving in tandem to bandage one another’s bruised hearts. She caressed the sides of his face lovingly, curling her fingers in his mess of fiery red hair while he pressed her as close as he could, flattening his hands against the curve of her back.

They pulled apart for a moment, both smiling softly, reeling in the moment.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that,” Fred confessed, breathing a sigh of satisfaction. 

“Guess that makes two of us,” [y/n] grinned. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Fred quipped, excitement getting the best of him. 

“You don’t even have to ask,” [y/n] replied, pressing her lips to his once more. 

[iloveyou3thousand]

I was wondering if you could do a Starker Werewolf au where Omega peter is from a different pack that left him to die in the woods and Alpha tony finds the omega bruised and battered well on a full moon run with the rest of avergers. Fluff insuses

Yuuuuuusss of course yes absolutely here it is

————————————————————————

The second their shift settled, the smell hit the entire pack, carried on the light breeze drifting through the woods. They all looked in the same direction, heads turning and noses pointing toward deeper in the dark forest, somewhere between the tall trees. They sniffed, collectively, and shared worried glances when it became apparent what that tangy, pungent smell was that accompanied that of a strange Omega.

It was blood.

Blood, and fear.

Tony was the first that took off running.

Naturally, the rest of the pack followed suit, the wordless decision that they were going to find this presumably injured Omega already made the second their Alpha took off.

The scent of the strange pack they assumed this Omega to be from had already filtered out from between the trees, which meant that there wasn’t a big chance they would run into other wolves. It also meant that the wolf whose scent they were picking up must have been left behind, and not as bait to lure in other wolves or other entire packs. It wasn’t a trap. It couldn’t be.

And if it was, Tony’s pack would be ready. But the scent of other wolves was too distant, aside of course from the one they were tracking now, and gaining upon rapidly.

There was no sound Tony or any other of the pack could pick up on, just the putrid smell of pain and suffering, and so Tony pushed harder, as the scent only became stronger the closer they got. Until they inevitably burst into what must have been the epicenter, and sure enough…

Among the leaves, lying against a large tree, was a small, light brown wolf. Tony stopped.

A pup, he thought immediately. But as he stepped closer slowly, he could see that he wasn’t quite as young as he first appeared to be, just…small.

A runt.

Tony trotted forward to assess the damage in the dark, approaching cautiously because although this wolf looked like he must have been a runt, and although he was clearly injured judging by the matted blood in his fur, he could still gather together protective strength and lash out. But the poor thing was breathing shallowly, eyes closed as if he didn’t even realize he was surrounded by a foreign pack. He should have been scared, or more scared than he already was, but it seemed he must have lost the energy to put up any defense.

The boy’s heartbeat was weak, slowed, his body limp on the ground. Tony could tell that he wasn’t going to have long, not if they stayed there. There wasn’t much of anything that they could do like this, with an injured, possibly dying wolf by their feet. But there was something about the boy that made Tony want to do whatever he could to help him. Something in the way he opened one eye and looked at him, in the way he whined softly, almost privately, as if just for Tony to hear.

With a lot of pain and effort, Tony forcefully shifted back into his human form, and was glad when the only other Alpha in their pack, Steve, shifted with him.

“This is going to hurt a little,” Tony murmured to the injured wolf, as he and Steve carefully scooped him up, and started carrying him back toward their cars.

It couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes, but the journey back was exhausting. The wolf was heavy, even with Steve and Tony sharing the weight between them, and the effort it took to remain human when the pull of the moon was so incredibly strong just tired them out more easily. But back at the cars, they had what they needed. And so once they arrived, it began.

A blanket was spread out on the forest bedding beside one of the cars, upon which they lay the injured wolf. Steve grabbed their med kit, and Tony inspected the strange wolf’s injuries, discovering deep bite marks and lashes that were going to be tricky to treat.

He had to shave a lot of the Omega’s fur to actually get to the wounds, apologizing over and over again as he went. Of course the fur would grow back eventually and it was more important that these wounds were stitched up, but it must have taken a chunk out of the stranger’s pride. At least a little bit.

He lay still though, and Tony got to work as best as he could with the resources they had.

It would have been better if they’d been able to take the wolf back to the compound, but Steve and Tony didn’t even need to exchange a single word on the matter, knowing fully well that it would be impossible, and most of all, very dangerous. What if one of them shifted behind the wheel? No. That wasn’t an option. This would have to do.

Tony came away with bloodied, shaking hands, but once all the gashes and punctures were sufficiently stitched together and the painkillers Steve had administered were kicking in, the strange wolf seemed to relax at last. His breathing was still slow, but no longer shallow. His chest rose and fell evenly, signifying a gentle, deep sleep.

The exhaustion from the impromptu surgery had Tony shifting back into his wolf form automatically, unbidden, but he couldn’t say he minded. He could see, from the corner of his eye, that Steve had done the same, slinking off to go find his mate between the trees and get settled somewhere comfortable.

Tony couldn’t have left even if he wanted to. That poor Omega. He couldn’t begin to fathom why another pack would have attacked him like that, why they’d leave him to die, why they’d hurt him that badly. Perhaps he didn’t want to know. He’d have to see come morning.

For now, he knew that the boy needed as much warmth as he could get to get him through the night and help his body start to heal, and being exhausted made it that much easier to lie down next to the Omega, and cuddle up to him without putting too much pressure onto any of the wounds. He was going to keep him warm throughout the night. They had already come this far.

.

Tony woke up with one arm slung over a shivering stranger. His first instinct was to pull him closer, as they had drifted apart a little throughout the night. A cool back settled against his chest, and the shivering slowly subsided, paired with a pleased sigh. Tony didn’t realize what was happening until he woke up a second time, later, to shuffling around him.

His pack had returned from the night in the woods, and they were all quietly gathering their things, getting dressed and finding the breakfast they had left in large coolers in the cars, talking quietly among themselves.

Tony blinked his eyes open to the back of a head of blond hair, and it took him a second to recognize the color from the night before. So it wasn’t light brown. It was blond. He smiled tiredly to himself, sat up, and looked down at the still asleep stranger.

The stitches looked messy in the daylight, but they were relatively clean, and neat considering Tony had made them with little to no light, in the middle of the woods, with limited tools. With the help of his pack, they put the boy onto the backseat of his car, swathed in blankets and with water to drink and something to eat nearby just in case.

The boy slept the whole ride home, and only woke shortly before they were about to turn onto the compound grounds.

“Where am I?” A soft voice from behind Tony asked, and Tony looked over his shoulder to see the boy’s soft brown eyes had opened, and he was looking around a little dazedly.

“You’re in my car. I’m taking you back to mine, to get you looked after. You took a pretty big hit last night.”

The boy tried to sit up, but visibly winced. “Where is my pack?” Was the second thing he asked.

Tony didn’t like the answer he had to give, but he knew that he was going to have to rip that bandaid sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to prolong any pain or any useless wondering. “They’re gone, kiddo. They left you behind. They left you to die.”

The backseat was quiet for a few moments, and in the rearview mirror Tony could see that the young Omega was staring, just staring at nothing in particular, probably lost in thought. His expression was pinched, and he was sure that was because of the pain he was undoubtedly experiencing, be it physical or emotional. His pack had left him to die. That must have been a shock.

“I could have seen it coming,” the boy ended up murmuring to himself, though it was loud enough for Tony to hear in the front seat.

“What’s your name, kid?” Tony asked.

“Peter. I could have known. They never liked me to begin with. I knew they were planning something. They were always so…” he trailed off, and Tony didn’t like the look on his face when he glanced in the rearview mirror again. He looked so sullen, his lips pressed together and eyes on something outside the car window, as if he was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” Tony said softly but urgently, and he reached behind himself to offer Peter his hand, palm up, despite the awkward angle, “I know this is a lot to take in, and we only just met, but fuck those guys. Forget about them. I’m Tony, I’m the Alpha of the pack that found you, and we don’t treat our Omegas like that. I promise.”

Peter looked down at the hand, waiting so patiently, offered up for what seemed like nothing other than to comfort him. And so slowly, realizing that while he was hurting and while he’d just lost his own pack there was also someone out there who had picked him up and dusted him off and taken him in, he lay his hand in Tony’s, and was shocked by just how warm it was and just how inexplicably incredible it felt to hold it. A calm washed over him, a calm he didn’t think he’d ever felt before, and when he looked up he met the warm brown eyes of the Alpha in the front seat through the rearview mirror.

“You’re one of us now, Peter,” Tony promised softly, and gently squeezed the Omega’s hand, “Welcome to the Stark pack.”

[anika-ann]

Hell Froze Over - Pt.1

The Good (and Fast) Samaritan

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 2750

Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast. And Wanda can’t read her mind.

So far, she has been helping. But surely it’s only a matter of time before she switches switch sides – otherwise she would have approached you instead of speeding away.

You had a problem. And you needed a solution.

Warnings: violence and blood, mention of multiple characters’ death (the Snap), a bit of inuendo and language… oh and extreme fluff

A/N: This part of Melting Hearts’ verse follows after everyone was brought after the Snap. The majority of the story was written after A:IW, soooo, there are no references to Endgame and there’s canon divergence. They somehow saved them all, without building a damn time machine and all that. Just run with it ;)

Previous part of the series II Story masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────  

Aliens. 

Why was it always aliens?

And extremely annoying ones on top of that.

They had freaking tentacles – or multiple limbs, whatever they called it. The thing was, they had four ‘arms’, which made them incredibly handful, pun definitely intended. And what was making it worse? Once you cut off one limb, two grew in its place.

More than once during the fight, in which New Yorkers were being terrorized again, you wondered if these particular creatures, aka Tentacles, had been on Earth before, possibly meeting Hydra. You couldn’t imagine the Nazis’ organization getting the inspiration for their motto anywhere else, Greek myths be damned.

Apparently, these aliens loved going after Captain America too. Then again, they generally didn’t seem to be fond of the group of superhumans standing in their way of invading this planet, so perhaps Steve was not special in that respect.

Pinning two Tentacles to a wall by spray of thick icicles, you allowed yourself to breathe in after a long time. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind if Tentacles were the ones whose population would stay with the half of them erased from existence by Thanos. Seriously. They were obviously dickheads.

Taking few more breaths, indulging the feeling of having time to do so, you scanned your surroundings; the fight was definitely going your way, the aliens falling one after another, but the damage to the area was immense. It was a miracle no building had collapsed yet, but you had a hunch it wouldn’t take long. Wanda was helping with removing the civilians out of the harm’s way with her mental powers, but several blocks had been hit. You hadn’t had your eyes on her for a while now.

Hearing a roar by your right, you were immediately back to the highest alert. Tentacle no.39 was not coming your way though; it went after Natasha. You sent an icicle right through the creature’s belly, killing it at instant. Nat just nodded your way and threw herself back into the fight. You did the same.

Your whole body hurt, burning with exhaustion, but you knew you had to keep going. Even when a warning pinch bit the base of your spine; you were getting really fed up with this whole fail-safe trigger, because in moments like this, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to stop fighting in order to be fine. You were supposed to push yourself to your very limits, because lives were at stake.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice.

You slowed down a little, trying to stay closer to Steve who was the nearest. He must have caught up on you pulling back, because he stated fighting with more ferocity – one you weren’t sure where he got from.

You noticed he didn’t have his helmet anymore and it made you bite the bullet and throw yourself back into the fight despite knowing the pain would only grow with time and at one point, it would paralyze you. But Steve had lost his fucking helmet again and he had the armour for reason goddammit!

And then, all of sudden, the battle was over. Car alarms blared all around you, smoke rising to the sky, flames licking anything they reached; you did your best to put the fire out. It was why you didn’t notice it at first – the loud creak of metal tens feet away, but then the concrete started screaming, just like the people.

You snapped your head that way, only to see a restaurant collapsing onto itself.

With people still in it.

You acted on instinct, sending the thickest layer of ice you could summon to slow down the falling debris, seeing a flush of red energy heading the same way. You felt the crushing weight of the building almost on your shoulders.

And the very same moment, you could also see that in a blink, there were no people underneath it.

They were gone; more specifically, several feet nearby, staring as incredulously as you were. Feeling unbearable sting in your back, you allowed yourself to let go, Wanda following your example.

Unlike the civilians, you knew all too well what happened. But your eyelids felt too heavy and you were too tired to be annoyed; in fact, you were grateful, because you didn’t know how long you would have been able to hold the improvised barrier.

You mentally thanked the girl who got all the people out in what seemed like a split second.

Dark spots danced in front of your eyes, your knees getting wobbly. The world threated to sway out of its place and you knew you were about to fold like a house of cards, only to wake up seconds later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms enwrapped you securely, pulling you to your Captain’s chest, supporting you as much as you needed. You closed your eyes and breathed through the dizziness.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got you. It’s over, you can rest. But stay with me, alright?” Steve’s voice reached you from a terrible distance, slowly getting closer as you were gradually regaining your strength. The vibrations of his words caressed your own torso and you blinked your eyes open. “There you go, Snowflake. Let’s wrap it up here, okay?”

You just nodded, looking up to his face gratefully. He gave you a small smile in acknowledgement of your wordless ‘thank you for not letting me fall’.

“She was here again,” you mumbled and Steve grimaced as he cautiously let you off his embrace.

“Yeah. I know.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

You all entered the conference room slowly, some of you barely standing on your feet. It was a miracle you didn’t have to drag each other in here. After a long time of scrunching your nose at it, you reached for the energizing drink specially designed for you just like everyone else.

While no one had suffered a serious injury – serious on the Avengers’ scale, things like the cut on Steve’s forehead didn’t count –, you were all ready to just have a shower and go to bed. But no. Being an Avenger meant you couldn’t. It meant that if the work wasn’t finished, you couldn’t get rest.

You dropped into one of the comfy chairs, Steve’s body making a muffled thud as he chose the one next to you. If even Captain America was dead on his feet, things were bad.

You pushed yourself up, sitting up straight to inspect the gash on his smooth skin. It was already healing and you knew he had it treated (by you, at least), but the drying bloody line on his head just wouldn’t let you relax.

Your fingertips carefully brushed alongside it, wary of not applying any pressure. Steve smiled at you faintly.

“Snowflake, it’s okay.”

His hand caught your wrist tenderly, pulling it away.

“How did you manage to get it anyway? How did you lose your helmet again?” you questioned. He bit his lip and looked almost apologetically. Naturally, that had you frowning. “Steve-“

“He was getting too close to--- to them, alright? I admit I didn’t quite see the other three coming-“

You gritted your teeth, torn between admiring his heroics as he defended the civilians and clipping round his ear for having a tunnel-like vision and not looking around properly before jumping to the rescue.

In the end, you just huffed, letting your hand slip from his grasp.

You carefully eyed the rest of the team, glad you found Wanda mothering Vision and Bruce checking Natasha once again, while Tony, Sam and Clint were on the phone. It put a smile on your face as you saw Bucky fumbling with his phone as well – you knew he had started seeing a woman from accounting here and now he was probably wondering if he should let her know he was fine.

“We make a good team. Taking minor risks is worth it,” Steve whispered, straightening in his chair in favour of dropping a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes contentedly at the pure and innocent display of affection.

When his lips lingered, his hand brushing your jaw and he inhaled the smell of your shampoo – if there was any smell left after the fight and debris flying around –, his breath faltering, a realization dawned to you.

He hadn’t lost his helmet when defending some civilians, had he?

Steve wouldn’t let himself to be distracted enough to be jumped when protecting civilians. Never. He only lost his focus when protecting the people he loved. Mainly the ones he had lost before, in the Snap or otherwise; if he could help it, his gaze never left you on the battlefield, simply too scared you would disappear in a blink of an eye. He might be getting less anxious about it lately, but it was always in the back of his mind; having your loved ones wiped off by a snap of fingers and seeing them fall to ashes did that to a person.

Not that you would know – you were among the ones who disappeared.

But Steve knew. He saw it happen to you, Bucky, Sam…. And he could only watch. Nothing he could do stop it. You still remembered the burn of in the base of your spine as your powers fought to freeze the process of your body disintegrating, watching in horror as many of your friends did – and that you were about to meet the same fate. Just as helpless as Steve was.

“…I’m just stalling, Steve. I know it and you know it too. I should— I should let go-“

“No! No, Snowflake, you stay and fight-“ he practically growled, gripping your wrists with enough strength to bruise them.  

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered in response, feeling your whole body trembling in both exertion and fear. You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be your end.

The wild haunted look in Steve’s eye only made you shudder further, a painful twist to your gut.

“No-“

“Please, say it back,” you pleaded, swallowing your tears and the scream that was threatening to erupt from your throat. The burn, fuck, the burn… you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“NO! You fight this!”

Lips trembling, you understood you wouldn’t get the last love declaration you craved. You closed your eyes.

“Goodbye, Steve.”

“NO!” he yelled, pulling you to him, bodies aligned as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you impossibly close. “You--- sweetheart, please. I love you. I can’t-“

“Thank you,” you sobbed, breathing in his scent, feeling the coarse material of his worn uniform, revelling in the warmth of his touch… and you let go.

The last thing you heard was him, choking on a desperate shriek of your name.

The memory and the sheer wonder about what it must have been like for him almost brought tears into your eyes. Again.

Could you really be mad at him for being reckless?

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, hearing his breath hitch. You opened your eyes, only to see his resigned ones as he guesses you figured out the truth.

“No ‘you idiot’, huh?”

“No. Not this time. I can see you’re fine. You’re allowed to look out for me as long as you walk away relatively unharmed.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured and kissed you lightly on your lips, tasting after the sickeningly sweet energy drink. You couldn’t say you minded.

“I love you, Steve. I care for you too. Nothing wrong with that,” you hummed lovingly, gazing into his eyes, the rest of the world be damned. “So yeah. Thank you.”

His blues got their vivid spark back, the corners of his lips rising inconspicuously. “Always. And I love you too.”

“You two are sickening,” Bucky noted close to your ear and you honest to god yelped, almost falling off your chair.

Bucky receded with silent laugh and while you clutched at your chest, your heart too frantic in your ribcage, you noticed Steve rolled his eyes at his friend fondly.

“Lefty here has a point,” Tony hummed, making you huff and turn to the big screen as it lit up with news feed.

There were already so many images and videos on the internet that it was scary. Why people hunted down good shots instead of running away?

Unsurprisingly, Tony froze the frame in which a blur of dark blue could be seen. Hint: it was neither you nor Steve in his stealth suit.

No. It was the enhanced girl. The fast one. The one you knew too little about to your comfort.

“Hate to say it, but things could have got ugly without the Rush-girl rushing in,” Tony announced and you scoffed, mainly because you felt like he was nudging your conscience.

It felt like he was blaming you, seeing you wouldn’t have been able to hold the falling debris for long enough. You were sure Tony wouldn’t blame you, since he knew all too well you simply couldn’t beat it; after all he had been the one to install your fail-safe, preventing you hurting yourself. But you also knew he didn’t like the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of it either.

The thing was it always went like this with this enhanced girl. She would show up, help the Avengers and then puff, she was gone. No trace. Except for the people she saved. The ones you might have failed to save unless she had come.

You forced yourself to drift away from the dark thoughts.

“Tony, your nicknames are getting more ridiculous with each try,” you remarked, earning a few hums in agreement from around the table.

“I can go back to naming you if you want… Popsicle. I bet Cap here got the memo and he loves to lick and s-”

“Stark!” Steve lashed out at him, his cheeks getting an unhealthy shade of red. You choked on your own spit.

You were pretty happy with Tony somewhat reconciling with Steve (and you and others), okay, but his jokes were sometimes too much. He really was pushing it.

“Go to hell, Metalbrain,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your ears burning.

Also, yes. Yes, Steve got the memo. So did you. But you didn’t need to talk about it in front of everyone, thank you very much.

“Cute blush you have here. I hit the nail on the head, eh?” Tony continued, earning a murderous glare from Steve, who certainly was sporting a remarkable blush.

“Tony!” you called out, not less horrified than your significant other.

“Trust the advice of the elder – biologically older anyway. Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how you make a kid. Then again maybe that’s the point-“

“Tony, shut your metal mouth or I swear to god I will tell Pepper you’re being a pervert.”

A look of pure horror appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but smile smugly. This always worked.

The thing was Tony would know how to get a girl pregnant; Pepper Potts lived to tell the tale. She was in her twenty-seventh week, after all; and her hormones were misbehaving. Big time. Her emotions were like on a roller-coaster lately and no one with a shred of brain wanted to be on her bad side, ever, let alone now.

Needless to mention Pepper Potts was a strong woman, capable of handling herself, being in control. She wasn’t quite in control of herself now and what was even worse, she always had been the more rational part of the Stark and Potts-Stark duo, keeping Tony’s impulsiveness in check. Once again, not now. And it was driving her insane.

So yeah, threatening Tony with snitching him to Pepper always worked these days. It was even mean of you. Then again, Tony was being extremely pervert today, venting his frustration on you and you did not like it at all.

“Ouch. Low blow, Popsicle, low blow,” Tony said darkly, before his expression turned gleeful again. “See what I did there with the blow--- never mind, I have a place to be. Bye, kids!”

Tony took his abrupt escape, disappearing from the room, and you sighed heavily. You massaged the bridge of your nose, feeling your face burning with embarrassment. The rest of the team pretended not to watch you highly amused.

“He’s an actual infant— no, he’s worse,” you stated, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“That’s hardly any news. Now, can we pay attention to the actual problem?” Natasha interjected, switching back to professional mood.

“Sure. Let’s talk more about the Rush-girl,” Clint hummed, a smirk on his lips.

A collective groan was the answer, but you did start working.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────  

There we go! 

The first chapter of the last part of Melting Hearts. Hopefully, I will make it worth it your attention ;)

Thank you for reading! Happy Sunday :-*

[yolkyeomie]

[request] — member: changbin, word count: 2007, genre: enemies to lovers(ish)/genshin au/angst, warning: none.

[2:45 pm]: “you broke it!” You yelled, a heart clenching scream echoing against the sky as you dropped to your knees in disbelief. Of all the things they could have happened, this just had to be one of them?

“What are you getting so worked up over?” The culprit questioned, snapping your head to attention with a face colored with fury.

Changbin stood over you, spinning his giant claymore around by the handle as he glanced down at your feet. His face contorted with annoyance as he unintentionally made you much smaller and weaker as he loomed over your defeated posture and spoke, “It’s just a polearm, we can just get you another one from the blacksmith.”

“Just a polearm?” You blinked once, then twice, as the boy’s harsh words resonated in your head and you rose off of the ground to defend yourself. “This isn’t just some polearm, Changbin!”

You shoved the severed polearm in his face, the once beautifully handcrafted spear now blackened out with ash and covered with scaring a from the boy’s fire. He stepped back instinctively as you continued to force him to look at the damage he had caused and with the trembling of your hands, you shouted, “this was a family heirloom! My father had this polearm, and his father, and his father before him! And you broke it! You snapped in half like it was a twig!”

“I didn’t do anything! You asked to spar and I gave you what you wanted and now you’re bad at the results?” He shouted back, growing defense as you continued to accuse him of such a heinous deed. “Just admit that that thing wasn’t as strong as your family made it out to be instead of blaming me.”

Furious with his attitude and denial, you took the sharp end of the polearm and swiped it at him. Thanks to your inattentiveness, the vision strapped along your glowed it’s ocean blue hue as water gathered around the head to increase the damage to attack. Though your aim was messy and fueled by sheer hatred so Changbin was easily able to dodge out of the way despite being rather slow out of the two.

In retaliation Changbin picked up his claymore with one hand and instinctively aimed the weapon at you, flames began to lick the sides of the blade as the vision embedded into his arm cuff began to glow its red hue.

The two of your never got along very well, no matter how hard you made an effort in hopes of mending your friendship. It was a constant off and on again fighting whenever it came to you two, especially when the vision bestowed upon you had been for the element of hydro, and Changbin’s for the element of Pyro. Though you were usually able to find some sort of middle ground at the end of the day to keep the tension within the group low, it didn’t seem like there would be that kind of resolve this time around.

“Woah, stop! What’s going on? The entirety of Liyue Harbor can hear you two yelling at each other! Do you really want the Millelith to get called on you?” Both of you snapped your head’s toward the voice, catching the shocked sight of Bang Chan and Jisung approaching.

Within seconds Jisung was at your side, forcing you to lower what was left as he tried to gauge what the situation was. Though he didn’t need to when you were already crying wolf to them. “He broke it! Changbin broke my polearm and he doesn’t even care!”

“He what?” Chan and Jisung questioned, turning toward the boy with disbelief printed on their foreheads.

“We were in a sparring match and I saw a weak point so I took my chances!” He defended himself. “The polearm snapping in half wasn’t meant to happen but Y/N keeps acting like I’ve committed a crime when I’ve done nothing wrong! Besides, we can just get you a polearm for the blacksmith, there’s no reason to be acting like this.”

“It’s like you don’t understand what you’ve done at all, you can’t just make another one of these,” you hissed are him, “This is unique, one of a kind, from my family and my family alone. This polearm isn’t something you can just buy from a blacksmith! You snapped it in half like it was nothing but a twig in the mud!”

“Well then maybe it is just a twig in the mud,” he cursed, taking a low blow to your feelings as he continued. “Clearly it must have been, if a weapon that was powered by a vision of all things so easily snapped under my claymore. Shouldn’t a family heirloom have at least some level of power to it? Maybe it really wasn’t one at all then.”

“That’s enough from you,” Chan scolded, moving into a more protective mode after hearing the words tumble out of your mouths with no filter. “Can’t you see you’ve done enough damage as it is?”

Changbin stared back at the boy, struggling to make up an excuse to get back on Chan’s good side. “But—“

“Yeah, don’t you think before you speak?” Jisung added, frowning at his friend’s dismissal of your belongings and feelings. “You’re taking it way too far, you’re being mean to Y/N for no reason now. Can’t you see that they’re upset, right Y/N— Y/N?” The three boys turned their head to face you but by the time they finally addressed you, you were gone.

The three of them glanced around for any speck of your existence, but it seemed as though you had completely vanished from the scene. All that was left was the other end of the broken polearm lying in grass that had been left behind. “Now look what you’ve done,” Chan sighed, crouching down to pick up the polearm. “How are you gonna fix this situation you’ve made, Changbin?”

You huffed ask you trudged through marketplace of Liyue Harbor, the broken polearm clenched in your grasp as you stared down on it. You had forgotten the other side of the polearm back where you had left Changbin and the others, but your pride wouldn’t let you go back to retrieve it. So instead, you had been walking in the market for hours in search of a blacksmith, but there was no one who could give you what you wanted.

The words that Changbin threw at you stung a lot more than you originally thought and facing him so soon when he probably didn’t think he was in the wrong might cause a lot more problems than solving any. You usually had a decent sense of self control, but if he spoke one word to you right now? You’d blow a fuse in a matter of seconds.

You couldn’t focus on that though, you needed to find a polearm to use as quickly as possible. As much as it pained you to look for a replacement, there was no way to repair the family heirloom and you needed to be able to defend yourself in the wild world of Liyue

You couldn’t simply rely on Bang Chan and Jisung for everything, you had a vision and it was to be put to use. The archons don’t just give them to anyone after all.

“Y/N,” a hesitant voice called out to you, your somber attitude turning fiery as soon as you recognize it. You turned your head around to find Changbin cautiously approaching you, covered in dirt and soot despite being clean only a few hours ago. He stopped in his tracks when the two of you met each other’s eyes, struggling to get another word out of his mouth. “Uh... yeah, so Y/N—“

“Are you here to make fun of me again?” You bite back, the conversation from earlier in the day coming back in vivid memories. “Tell me how my polearm wasn’t a good heirloom? That it’s just a twig in the mud.”

Changbin winced at your words, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “Okay so you haven’t forgotten that... good to know.”

“Forgotten that?” You repeated, scoffing— no, laughing— at the boy’s sheer audacity. “How could I have forgotten how much poison you had sown in your words when you were quite literally yelling at me?”

“I don’t know! It’s been a couple of hours? I thought you had probably forgotten what I said by now?” He hissed, the tensions rising between you two once more. You and Changbin really couldn’t get along with each other, the boy seemed to believe that all would be forgiven if you simply forgot about everything and you held onto grudges a lot stronger then he predicted.

With that the two of your turned away from each other, huffing and puffing with disdain for the other. Was Changbin’s sole purpose in life to make you angry now? Why did he even show up if he wasn’t going to apologize for what he had said to you?

“Talking to you makes me so frustrated, geez.” Changbin muttered to himself, though his words were still able to find its way into your ears.

You turned around fast enough to give you whiplash as you opened your mouth to retaliate, ready to bare your fangs and give the boy a piece of your mind. Though you stopped when the boy shoved something at your face at the same time, nearly crashing straight into the object and struggling to help your balance.

In his hands was a polearm— new, shining black and gold polearm— and he held it out for you to take. “What is this?” You questioned him, cautiously taking the weapon out of his hands to look at it yourself. You had never seen this polearm before, you had walked into nearly every single blacksmith within Liyue Harbor and you never set your eyes upon this one. In fact it looked like it had been... just created.

“I felt bad, okay?” Changbin snapped, trying his best to hide his embarrassment as he turned his back to you. “Chan pulled me aside and made me talk about what happened and I felt bad. What I said was bad, okay? I understand that just take it or leave it, I don’t care anymore.”

You hold the polearm tightly in your hands, mixed feelings begin to swirl around your chest as you glanced at it. “I’ve been... searching for new polearms all over the place. Where did you... where did you even get this thing?”

He hesitated, thinking to himself for a few seconds before he glanced over his shoulder to look at you. “I made it. I got the materials for it, then came together with Hyunjin who uses a polearm too, and... I made it for you.” Changbin turned on his heels to face you, putting on his rough and tough demeanor as he made sure to remind you,” Only because I felt bad and made you upset, okay? Those are the only reasons I made that for you, don’t get it twisted or anything.”

“Changbin, that’s...,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You were still mad at him and hadn’t received a direct apology yet, but the mere fact that he went and made you your very own unique polearm? You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel your heart warming at his actions. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as your anger made him out to be. “Oddly kind of you, are you sure Chan wasn’t the one who made it and you’re just giving it to me to look nice?”

“Alright, give that back then.” The boy demanded, reaching out to take the spear away from you.

You immediately slid out of the way, using your heightened agility to stay out of the boy’s grasp, “no! I mean... thank you, Changbin. This... this was nice of you to do for me. I’m still mad at you though, don’t forget that.”

[peggyrose19]

Hold Me While You Wait

Welcome to part 2 of me writing St. Tweedle instead of sleeping! What can I say, they’re fun. So here’s Remus finding out about the two of them. ( if you know the song from the title you get a gold star) also in case you weren’t aware i don’t know how actual conversations work.

characters by @lumosinlove

@im-oknutzy-trash, @wonder-womans-ex

Luke found himself fiddling as he waited in his room. He didn’t normally get so antsy, could usually keep a relatively calm exterior. But in his room, hidden from curious eyes, his walls dropped, letting his nerves peek through. His expression, staring back at him from the mirror he stood in front of, was stony and pale.

“Relax,” a familiar voice said. Luke didn’t even flinch, so familiar by now with Saint’s random appearances. 

“How am I supposed to relax?” he asked exasperatedly, moving on from the buttons of his jacket to his cuffs. He didn’t look at Saint, but could hear him moving, could imagine his lithe body sliding through the window, blond hair catching the last strains of golden sunlight. He could picture the smirk too, as Saint came up behind him, close enough to touch. 

“It’s just Remus,” Saint murmured softly, surveying Luke in the full-length mirror they stood before. Luke watched his face in the glass. “We hang out with him all the time. And besides,” he added, “you look good. No need to fix what isn’t broken.”

Luke turned to face Saint, mere breaths separating them. “When did you become all philosophical?”

There was a softer side to Saint, Luke had discovered over the past few months. One that only came out when they were alone, as if Saint was afraid of anyone else knowing that he did actually have a heart. And he cared a lot more than he ever let on. That was the thing about Saint. He always held things inside. He was this wild swirling storm of emotions, warring with each other constantly and held at bay by an icy wall of sharp wit and easy sarcasm. Luke liked to tell himself that it was him who brought Saint’s walls down, let him show that delicate interior beneath. 

“It’s all your fault,” Saint replied then, and Luke smiled. “You’re a bad influence on me, Tweedle, what can I say?”

Luke smiled, and leaned forward to kiss Saint gently. He too was softer with Saint than anybody else, letting him see the caring parts of himself. There was something about Saint that felt safe, felt like home. 

“Tell me it will all be okay.”

Saint’s expression flickered. “Well, I can’t tell you that, Tweedle,” he replied, not unkindly. “I can’t control it, can I? And I mean, he’s your friend, is he not? You should know better than to ask me, what do I know of Remus Lupin? That he’s mad? That he’s in love with Sirius? That’s about all I can give you, babe.”

Luke knew that wasn’t true—from the gleam in Saint’s eyes he did too—but he also knew that wasn’t Saint’s intention. Saint had never been the type of person to respond with logic. His intention was always to make Luke smile, to distract him. And most of the time it worked. Saint had an uncanny ability to pull your focus away, make you think of something else entirely different in a mere sentence or two. In this case, he was once again successful. 

“Wait, Remus is in love with Sirius?” he asked.

Saint shrugged. “I dunno. He certainly stares at him enough though. It’s like they both have hearts for eyes these days, I swear.”

Luke just blinked. “Since when have they been together?” Saint shrugged again. Luke spluttered. 

“Have you not noticed?” Saint asked amusedly. “Jesus Christ, he’s your best friend is he not? Must I do everything?” Luke stifled a laugh at Saint’s dramatics. 

He had noticed Remus acting differently lately if he was honest, cagey and inconsistent, disappearing randomly throughout the day and reappearing with flushed cheeks or the occasional bruise. The more he thought about it, the more it all began to make sense. How Sirius never seemed to be around when Remus was missing. The way they always seemed to end up beside each other when they all hung out together. The sudden—or maybe not so sudden—lack of animosity between the two. He just wondered how the hell Saint had noticed before him. 

Luke was pulled from his thoughts by the light brush of Saint’s lips against his own. He smiled into the kiss, let Saint push him back until he hit the wall, let his hands slip under the edge of Saint’s t-shirt. Saint always kissed like a burning fire. Pushing and taking, meeting Luke step for step. It had always been that way, ever since that very first kiss right here in this room, the two of them pushing and pulling, taking and giving what the other put down. 

A knock at the door startled them apart. Standing in the doorway was Remus, staring at them with wide eyes. Luke felt like his heart had stopped. 

“Remus.” 

“Um. Hi.” 

Remus stood there awkwardly, not moving. He looked truly surprised, Luke noted as he studied his face and desperately tried to control his own pounding heart. As his breathing began to slow, he noticed Saint had stepped nearly to the other side of the room, seemingly trying to put as much space between them as he possibly could. Luke tried not to feel offended by it; it’s not like they could pretend they weren’t just making out thirty seconds ago. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“I was coming to get you. We were supposed to leave five minutes ago? The party, remember?”

“I remember,” Luke replied faintly, still grappling with the sudden change. 

Luke had known Remus would find out eventually, had known he really should have told him back when it first started. Remus was his best friend after all, they trusted each other with almost everything. Almost. Some things gave him pause though, not because of Remus but because of himself. It was hard to trust someone completely, was something Luke had learned when his father had been arrested. You never truly knew everything about a person. 

“So…” Remus started awkwardly. “Are you two like, together or…?” 

“Um,” coughed Luke. “Something like that.” 

Saint stayed eerily quiet. Luke glanced over at him quickly, finding his face stony and pale. It was uncharacteristic of him, and a bit disconcerting to see that vibrant color drained from his face. 

“Oh well, uh. Good for you, I guess.” 

“Could you give us a minute?” Luke asked, gaze flitting back to Saint. Remus watched him warily for a second but he nodded and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Luke had the fleeting thought that he was only going to listen through the wall, but he pushed it from his mind. Remus wasn’t like that.

Luke turned to Saint, stepping cautiously toward him the way one might approach a spooked horse. “You alright?” he asked softly. 

Saint’s gaze snapped to his, icy cold for only a single moment. Then his face crumbled. He said nothing, simply stepped closer to Luke and pulled him in, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Luke’s eyes slipped shut and he felt Saint lean into him. He took the weight silently, nuzzling against Saint’s neck and breathing in the familiar smell of sea salt and fresh air.

 He didn’t pull back until Saint did, cradling his face in gentle hands and looking into those lost hazel eyes. 

“It’s just Remus, remember?”

Saint sniffled. “Damn you Tweedle.” 

Luke smiled. “Come on.” He held out his hand and, surprisingly, Saint took it. They headed for the door and, when Luke opened it, Remus was waiting on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” Luke blurted out then, surprising even himself. If possible, Remus’ eyes grew wider.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Not telling you.” 

Remus sighed. “It’s… I mean, do I wish you would have told me? Yeah. Am I gonna make you tell me everything? No. Besides, I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I did.” He swallowed hard. “There’s something you should know.”

“About you and Sirius, I know,” Luke interrupted, wanting to stop the terrified look on his friend’s face. It seemed that fear didn’t go away, even with those you were closest to. 

“You know?” 

“Yeah. Well. Saint told me. I wouldn’t have figured it out.”

Remus’ gaze shifted to Saint, who just smirked and shrugged as if to say ‘what can I say, you aren’t subtle’. At least, that’s what Luke got out of it. 

“Oh. Well uh… guess that makes this night a bit easier then.” 

“Guess it does.”

Saint sighed long-sufferingly, that indifferent mask fixed back on. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, let’s go.” 

Luke couldn’t help a small smile, but it hurt his heart that Saint felt the need to pretend around everyone, even their friends. It was true that Remus was more his friend than Saint’s, but they had gotten closer over the past few months. On occasion, Saint had even been polite. But Luke should have known that wouldn’t be enough. Saint didn’t trust people, didn’t open up to them. He still found it miraculous Saint ever opened up to him. 

“Luke, you coming?” Remus asked, and Luke glanced up to see both him and Saint standing at the top of the stairs waiting for him. 

“Yeah.” 

Luke grabbed Saint’s hand again as they headed down the stairs towards the front door, squeezing gently. Saint glanced at him curiously, once. But he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t pull away. 

When they reached the first floor, Remus headed outside without a second thought, but Luke paused, pulling Saint towards him.

“Hey,” he whispered, Saint falling against him. Their lips met, just a brush of a kiss, before Luke pulled back again to look at Saint fully. “Are you okay? Truthfully.”

Saint smiled Luke’s favorite smile. “I’m fine.”

“Good.”

With another gentle kiss, Luke let Saint go and followed him outside into the cool night air to where Remus was waiting.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if... 10c

First off, right away, I know some were looking forward to a Mandorin wedding and Grogu joining them, but truth be told, the What If story would have ended up on 500k too if that was to happen, because the boys are still so very young and I love exploring their lives and their first times for everything too much to do a big time jump... So my deep apologies to the ones who were waiting for that, but hope that some sweet teenage feels can soothe the disappointment a little. And, yeah, while we might not reach that point in this fic, of course these two got married and adopted the little bean, just a bit later on in life <3

Second, this is a monster so beware of a chaotic mess of plenty of POVs behind the cut. The main story was Dulcy’s but here she shares it with the others. Beware of feels and maybe a familiar face or two ;)

And, again, THANK YOU to the supporters of this fic. I appreciate every kudos, re-read every comment a worrying amount of times and cherish the reblogs like beskar! (You guys have some of the best tags ever xD ) 

And Sprungich, this chapter is for you! <3 With the lovely coffee you provided, feel free to send me a message if there is a particular one-shot you would like to see happen! <3

-

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

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

Epilogue Everyone:

They have six entire months of just blissful happiness and fawning over their new family member, then Zev disappears. Again.

Dulsissia hates when she does that, but Davarax knows there is little they can do about it, except let her know that she’s always welcome home.

After nine days without a word, Zev’sonya reappears.

Standing right outside the entrance door, her face a mask of defiance as usual, Zev sticks her chin out. “Can my friend stay here too?”

Davarax shrugs. “Are they in trouble?”

“Yeah.” Zev replies. “His family is a bunch of mean jerks. He needs a safe place.”

Instantly filled with empathy, Dulsissia steps up next to Davarax. “Of course, baby.”

“Awesome.” Zev turns and gestures for her friend to step forward. “I said they were cool. Come on.”

Davarax instantly places his hand on his blaster while Dulsissia looks like she wants to scream but she’s too shocked to make any sound.

“This is Mose.” Zev’sonya declares with a grin.

A massive Hutt glares at them.

The silence stretches out until Zev’sonya reaches out and smacks the Hutt across the stomach. “Say hello, idiot.”

“Hello.” Mose grouses. A big drop of drool slides from his mouth.

Struggling to regain her words and the ability to form a comprehensible sentence, Dulsissia looks from one to the other until she ends up back with the Hutt. “Uhm, hello. N-nice to meet you?”

“He stays outside.” Davarax growls, not having that thing anywhere near where his children sleeps.

Zev’sonya frowns, but the Hutt nods and doesn’t seem surprised by the order.

A good thirty minutes later, Dulsissia is shoulder by shoulder with Davarax as they stand there and look out at where Corin and the others are cautiously approaching the Hutt, driven by youthful curiosity and bravery.

“That’s a Hutt.” Dulsissia says.

“Mhm.” Davarax confirms.

They continue to stare for a while, then she speaks again, a little worried this time. “What… what do Hutts eat?”

The size of their new arrival says whatever they eat, there will have to be a lot of it. Davarax is not thrilled at the idea of having to get even more credits to feed a Hutt. “Whatever doesn’t run fast enough, I think.” Davarax mutters. “Better keep an eye on that one, ner riduur.”

Dulsissia studies the Hutt. “He doesn’t seem… evil?”

“He’s a Hutt. I’ve seen what they can do.” Davarax declares in a hard voice. “They have their reputation for a reason.” He lets out a soft breath. “If he hurts one of our kids, he’ll find out that we Mandalorians have ours for a reason too. I will skin him alive.”

“If he hurts any one of them, you will have to get in line.” Dulsissia says. “But he hasn’t harmed anyone yet.”

To Davarax’ irritation, she then walks over to join in on the welcoming committee. She introduces herself, tries to put on her polite smile and only shudders a little at the drool dropping from the creature’s mouth and soaking his belly. “So, tell me, how did you meet our Zev?”

The Hutt gives her a blank stare. “She robbed me. I tried to kill her and she offered me a job.”

Dulsissia blinks. “Oh.”

Zev’sonya grins.

Davarax is not amused.

-

The day passes, so does the next and soon a week, and the Hutt does not harm anyone or try to eat any of them. Mose mostly keeps to himself. He sleeps in the shed Davarax and Din had set up for the speeder bikes, eats less than what a Hutt normally would and doesn’t really speak unless spoken to.

Davarax doesn’t relax, but he won’t end the Hutt’s life before he gives him a reason to as Zev’sonya really seems attached to him for some reason, almost to the point where he rivals her friendship with Din. So he watches and waits.

While he has trained and taught no small amount of children, Davarax have no real experience with babies. They are mystical beings to him, beautiful little wonders with endless potential, and his daughter is very much that. She amazes him when she starts to crawl around with curious determination to explore the world without any sign of fear. If something scares her, she watches it and frowns, but she will not back away and only cries when in pain.

There are moments when Davarax fears his heart will physically burst with pride.

So the horror he feels when he takes his eyes off his daughter for just a moment to reply to a message from Dulsissia, who is on a supply run with Corin and Din, and finds her gone; there are no words to describe it.

She’s not walking yet, but that little girl crawls at lightspeed when she sees something she wants to investigate and something must have caught her eye.

Davarax runs, panic snapping at his heels when he sees the doors are open to let some of the breeze into the too warm house, and his hand goes to his blaster as he sees his precious daughter having made it just outside the entrance door and is struggling to sit up in front of the massive Hutt standing there.

Nonono! Davarax can’t breathe, the fear is too strong and his fingers fumble at the hilt of his blaster and can’t quite get a grip. He’s never failed to draw his weapon before.

The girl reaches up and makes a curious coo.

Mose eases himself down, watches her for half a second, amused by her grabbing hands, then slowly reaches out and holds out a finger to her, which she eagerly takes a hold of and starts exploring.

Davarax’ panicked run morphs into a slow trot and then an awkward halt. He can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

Unaware of being watched, Mose’s mouth eases ever so slightly into a faint smile. His big eyes give a slow blink with a benign softness that doesn’t belong in a terrifying and cruel Hutt facing the offspring of the enemy.

And then he notices Davarax.

Mose quickly pulls himself back up into his usual towering posture, but him yanking his hand away unsettles the little girl and she topples backwards.

Another fierce jab of fear cuts into Davarax, but before he can do anything; Mose curls his tail behind her and prevents her from falling. He doesn’t take his eyes off Davarax while he does it, keeps staring, keeps holding himself upright and a big glob of drool soon leaks from the corner of his mouth.

Davarax frowns. He’s starting to put some pieces of a puzzle he didn’t want to see together. That posture is not the Hutt’s arrogance, as Davarax had concluded earlier, this is a defensive pose. This is an intimidation tactic to fend off attacks, not seek them out. And the drooling? Now that he thinks about it, Davarax can only remember the Hutt drooling around him and Dulcy.

-He’s scared. The realization comes sudden and hits hard.

And shortly after it, a question arises. How old is he? Mose is far from the tallest Hutt Davarax has ever seen and his body mass is skinny compared to them, it kind of says oversized teenager or young adult. The life expectancy for a Hutt would make them slow developers, no? He might be older than Davarax and Dulcy put together, but still a kid by Hutt standards, and Davarax never once considered it. A Hutt foundling? That’s one for the legends.

Walking over, Davarax bends down and picks up his daughter, noting how Mose cautiously withdraws his tail and curls it protectively around himself. More drool is slipping from his mouth.

Somehow Zev’sonya had seen this side of Mose, or sensed it somehow, and decided to bring him home instead of leaving him to be devoured by the other Hutts. His baby daughter had shown Mose nothing but curiosity and trust. Davarax decides to do the same. He looks over at Mose, who is barely breathing, and nods towards the house. “You can come in.”

For a second there is confusion on Mose’s face and then he mumbles; “The shed is fine.”

A thick dollop of drool hits the ground with a splat. That’s going to be annoying indoors.

“It’s not. You are a guest here.” Davarax heads inside again but pauses in the doorway. “Come on.”

Mose cautiously does as he’s told. He carefully squeezes in through the door and follows Davarax down the hallway. Eyes flickering nervously from doorway to doorway, drooling non-stop and twitching fingers reveal how uncomfortable he is, but Davarax feels a pinch of actual guilt when he stops by the room he wants to place the Hutt in and he turns around to see Mose no longer going for the towering intimidation pose but actually shrinks and somewhat cowers anxiously. Inside the house, the Hutt is at a disadvantage. His movements are restrained and Davarax is armed.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Davarax reassures him, hoisting his warbling daughter a little. “I know I haven’t been the friendliest and I apologize. I thought that you… Well, I thought wrong. And I’m sorry.” He turns and pushes the button to open the door to the room used for storing furniture. “I’ll get the others to help clear it out, but you can fit in here, right?”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“Yeah, you’ll fit in here.” Davarax then realizes something. “But we don’t really have Hutt beds. Will have to make one.”

“The floor is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll ask Barthor to set up some calculations. It’s going to have to be strong.” Davarax sighs. “Okay, so what else will we need. Maybe-”

“What’s going on here?” Zev’sonya’s voice is sharp. She stalks forward and places herself between him and Mose.

Davarax nods towards the open room. “We need to get the others and clean this out. For Mose.”

Zev’sonya blinks with surprise and then, for the very first time, she gives Davarax a genuine and bright smile. “Really?”

Momentarily stunned by the sweet, happy side of her, usually hidden behind frowns and scowls, Davarax has to clear his throat. “Yeah. Really. We can’t have guests sleeping out in the shed.”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll get the others.” Zev’sonya declares and runs off.

Davarax watches her, gives a faint shake of his head in amazement, then looks over at the awkward and heavily drooling Hutt. He sighs with a faint smile. One more troubled youngster. Why not.

-

Barthor is heading back to his speeder bike after finally getting his hands on the last computer chip he needs for his little project. He’s parked right outside of the small town and it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes before he’s back home.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

Because as he steps outside the town walls, something wraps itself around his ankles, tightens and he drops like a roped tauntaun.

Training kicks in. Barthor instantly reaches for his blaster and his blade, seconds before he’s rolled over on his back to face his captor.

Blinking surprised, Barthor forgets to draw his weapons.

“Hello.” A voice says.

“Uh…” Barthor replies. “Hello?”

“They say you are very clever. Is that true?”

Barthor doesn’t do modesty. “I suppose so.” He gives his restrained ankles a pointed look. “Is that why you roped me? To ask me if I’m clever?”

“Maybe.” There is a flick of a wrist and the rope loosens so he can free himself. “Your friends seem more brawn than brain, which made me curious about you.”

Barthor gets up, a little tense. “They’re more clever than this entire town put together.”

“Loyal too?” A thoughtful hum. “You really are interesting, Barthor.”

“Wait. How do you know my name.” Barthor takes a step forward as they step away. “W-what’s your name?”

“Kaleo.”

“Do you have to go?” Barthor shrugs a little. “You can’t just rope some guy, ask him if he’s clever, insult his family and then walk away without an explanation, you know?”

A soft laugh. “I told you; I find you interesting.”

“The feeling is mutual…” Barthor mumbles. Then he twitches when they step away again. “Can I see you again?”

“Sure.”

“When?”

“When you find out where I live.”

Puzzled, Barthor shakes his head. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because you’re the clever one.” Is the reply. “You’ll figure it out.”

-

With the constant adding to their family, it comes as quite the shock when they lose one.

Davarax, Din and Paz are at a marked on the neighbouring planet when Din suddenly goes from half-asleep to full alert and shaking with eagerness.

Before Davarax can ask him what is going on, Din runs off.

It’s not difficult to track him down and when he does, Davarax instantly realizes why Din had reacted the way he did. He remembers the clothing on the corpses that littered the streets where he’d found Din and the man talking to Din right now is wearing that very thing.

It’s Din’s tribe. What’s left of it, anyway.

It’s a handful of people who have set up some stalls at the end of a marketplace. A couple of kids are running around in outfits similar to the one Din had worn when Davarax had brought him back to the Covert that first time.

Din is talking in a language he barely remembers, struggles a bit with the words and pronunciation, but the smile on his face is something Davarax can count on one hand he’s seen in the Covert. And when they go back home, there is a distance in his eyes that wasn’t there before and a heavy sadness settles in the pit of Davarax’ stomach.

Back home, Din instantly seeks out Corin to tell him about what had happened and for once he is the one eagerly talking while Davarax and Paz exchange quiet looks.

For the next week, Davarax spends no small amount of hours checking out the story of these people wearing clothes from Din’s tribe. He stalks and spies and learns as much about every individual as possible. He has to know they are who they say they are. He has to know they are good people.

They are.

Meanwhile, Dulsissia hugs Corin a little closer and a little more often that week, unable to explain to him why because she has a weak hope that she, Paz and Davarax might be wrong.

They’re not.

Din wants to go back and talk to them again and once he does, he learns that they are about to leave for the next planet on their path. After losing their home, they lead a rather nomadic life, searching for others from their tribe and lost relics to reclaim. They ask if Din will join them.

“Please don’t go…” Corin asks, tears in his eyes, holding on to Din’s arm as if he would float away into space if he didn’t.

“It’s just six months.” Din reassures him. “Then we are coming back here a-and we could-”

“What if we’re gone by then?” Corin blurts out, absolutely miserable.

“Then I’ll find you.” Din promises, reaching out and placing his hand behind Corin’s neck. “I’ll find you, okay?” He leans in and rests his forehead to his. “Stay safe. Look after the others. And we’ll talk again in six months.”

Silent tears running down his face, Corin gives a faint nod.

Din walks over to Dulsissia and lets her hug him, kiss his hair, squeeze his face and kiss his forehead with a patience he’s never show before. He even holds on to her a little longer than usual. Paz is furious and refuses to utter a word. Raga mutters for Din to look after himself. Zev’sonya is nowhere to be found. Barthor gives him a brief hug and wishes him luck.

Davarax waits a small distance away from the others. When Din walks over to him, Davarax has to clear his throat to speak. “You got everything you need?”

Din nods.

A heavy silence hangs between them for a moment before Davarax tells him in a quiet voice; “If you change your mind, if something happens, if… if anything, you send me a message and I’ll come for you. Day, night, one day from now, one week or a month, it doesn’t matter. You always have a place here, Din.”

Din nods and looks away, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

Davarax hesitates before speaking again. “Din, I…” I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you.

Din looks back at him.

“Be careful out there.” Davarax says, hating himself for his cowardice. “And remember, if you need us, if you need me, I’m here. Always.”

Din nods again, a couple of tears breaking free and he turns and stalks towards where his tribe is waiting for him.

Dulsissia absently pulls Corin close as he heaves for air between the tears.

Paz turns and stalks back on board the Razor Crest, Raga follows, then Barthor, Dulsissia and Corin. Davarax is the last to leave, his eyes on Din for as long as he can see him...

-

Corin’s heart is broken. His best friend is gone. No, not just best friend… He and Din was… Whatever they were, it was special. It was not like anything he’s ever felt for or with anyone else.

A heavy sadness settles over their family for a long, long time. They all miss Din and it feels like they are missing a limb.

His parents find distraction in his sister. Paz and Raga find comfort in each other. Zev’sonya runs off and does whatever she does. Barthor keeps heading into town to be with this Kaleo person. Corin is the only one who can’t stop thinking about how Din isn’t there any more.

None of the girls and boys in town can take his mind off Din. Nothing can.

Which is probably why Davarax agrees to let Corin come along on a bounty hunting job. Usually he goes alone on these, but Corin asks and after a brief discussion with his mother, Davarax agrees.

“You do as I tell you. Understand? This is a hunt and they will do whatever it takes to escape. Including shooting us.” Davarax warns Corin as they enter the city to find their bounty.

“I understand.” Maybe getting shot at might cure the numb feeling inside?

It does. Once the first blaster shot flies by him, Corin yelps and flails and forgets all about being sad. He has to focus on surviving instead.

Davarax goes after their prey like a Corellian hound. Corin has gotten so used to seeing his mild and calm side that he’d almost forgotten how dangerous and brutal his dad can be if he wants to.

They chase after their bounty into an abandoned building so worn down it is barely standing.

“Stay here.” Davarax orders and uses his jetpack to fly up the middle of the winding stairs.

Corin stays, but when he leans forward against the railing to look up to see if Davarax had caught his prize; the railing just gives in and Corin falls.

Luckily he doesn’t drop more than a floor before he slams into the ground, but it’s enough to knock the air out of him and scramble his brain for a bit. (If not for his helmet, his brain would probably have been scattered all across the floor…)

When his blurry sight clears up, Corin realizes that what he thought were white pillars are moving and he rolls over on his back with a startled sound to see the storm troopers walking towards him. He fumbles for his blaster, but a kick to his hand sends the weapon sliding across the floor and then a storm trooper is pointing their blaster right at his t-visor.

Corin closes his eyes and prepares to die.

“Wait.” One of the troopers says. “Wait. Stop. Wait.”

Corin opens one eye and sees one trooper grabbing the arm of the one aiming at him.

“Look. That’s a kid.” The trooper preventing the other from shooting says. “You can’t shoot a kid, man.”

“He’s right.” A third trooper says, appearing next to them. “We don’t shoot kids, remember?”

“But this one has seen us.” The one with the blaster growls.

“The kid is not going to say anything.” The one who had prevented him from shooting says, then turns to Corin. “Right? You’re not going to say anything? You never saw us, kid. Right?”

Corin nods. Sure. Whatever. He’ll agree to anything as long as they don’t shoot him.

“Put the weapon down, Pat.” The third one says and takes off his helmet. It’s a man in his early twenties with dark hair and tired eyes. “Listen, kid, I’m sorry. We thought you were someone else. You run along.”

Growling, the one called Pat reluctantly holsters his blaster. “You better be right, Dee. If this kid gets us killed, I will never forgive you.”

The one who had stopped him from shooting reaches out a hand towards Corin. “Come on, kid. Upsy daisy.”

Dazed, not sure what the right thing to do is, Corin slowly reaches out and lets him pull him up on his feet. “T-thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. But you better get out of here.” The man says.

Dee puts his helmet back on. “Drop is right. Go.”

Corin takes one step, but then something heavy lands behind him.

“There you are, little Mando.” It’s the twi’lek man Davarax had been hired to hunt down.

Pat reaches out, grabs Corin’s shoulder and yanks him towards him and the others. “Stay down, kid!”

A mess of blaster fire follows. Corin is boxed in by white armor as the three take up a defensive stance around him and he can’t see what happens, just hears the battle. It’s over within a minute.

When the storm troopers step away, Corin sees the twi’lek lying there, dead, with a blaster in his hand that he’d meant to use on Corin.

“Someone will have heard that.” Dee says. “We have to get out of here. If the others find us, it’s all over.”

“Do you think we’ll get a trial?” Drop asks with a touch of hysterical humour.

“No. They’ll execute us in this shitty place.” Is Pat’s deadpan reply.

Dee turns back to Corin. “Go. Hurry. You don’t want to be here either if the imperial army decides to check out this place. And be careful.”

Corin opens his mouth to thank them when another heavy shape lands behind the storm troopers. An arm goes around Dee’s throat and he’s yanked back against unforgiving armor while Davarax lifts his blaster to fire at Pat. Drop instantly draws his own blaster.

“No!” Corin runs to stand between them, his helmet nearly touching the muzzle of Davarax’ blaster. “Don’t shoot them!”

Davarax hesitates, ignoring Dee’s wheezing attempts to pull his arm away from his throat. “Corin, what is going on here?”

-

After the explaining is done, Davarax reluctantly lets go of Dee, who stumbles forward into the protective grasp of his friends and coughs there for a moment while Davarax yanks Corin over to his side just in case.

“What are three storm troopers doing down here?” Davarax asks, suspicious.

“I think they are deserters…” Corin replies, looking at the three. “Am I right?”

“Hand the kid a medal.” Drop says with a wry smile in his voice. “Correct on the first try.”

Corin looks up at Davarax. “They can’t stay here. We have to help them, dad. Please?”

Davarax sighs.

And that is how he not only returns home with credits for a successful hunt and a revitalized Corin, but also with three ex-storm troopers in the cargo hold of the Razor Crest.

Dulsissia brings their daughter to greet them when the ship lands, only to freeze at the sight of what follows her husband and son off the ship.

“It’s okay, mom.” Corin reassures her. “They’re good guys. They saved my life.”

Dulsissia swallows down her fear and forces herself to put on a smile. As much as she hates that armor, she cannot hate men who has saved her son. “Then I am in your debt, sirs.”

While Davarax walks over and holds out his arms as the little girl eagerly reaches out for him, the storm troopers line up next to the ship and remove their helmets.

“Your son saved our lives in return, so I figure we are even, m’am.” Dee says.

Pat nods. The tallest of the three and with a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

Drop is staring at Dulsissia. “That is true. And something else that is true is the fact that you have to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, my lady. You don’t happen to need a new father to your charming son here?”

Davarax looks up from the toddler in his arms and his t-visor locks on Drop. “I think I changed my mind. I’m going to shoot you after all.”

Drop’s eyebrows flies up. “Oooh. You two are…? Oh. Ah. My bad.”

Flattered, Dulsissia smiles at Davarax. “I like these guys.”

Davarax grunts. “Yeah, I’m definitely shooting them.”

He doesn’t. Instead, the three are allowed to spend the night in the house and Davarax and Corin will head into town tomorrow to get them other clothes so they won’t be shot on sight. But the evening is spent with Davarax and Dee talking for hours over some strong smelling drink, speaking quietly and solemnly.

 Corin tries to eavesdrop, but he keeps getting distracted by Drop constantly trying to cheat to win the second round of the boardgame he had challenged just about everyone to join in on.

Paz, Raga and Barthor had all been a little bit taken back when three storm troopers walked into the house, but then Paz shrugged and decided to just go with it as it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d experienced since leaving the Covert. Raga and Barthor couldn’t ague against that.

Zev’sonya and Mose have no opinion as they have disappeared again. Corin wonders what Din would think. He hates storm troopers. Din would probably never allow a storm trooper to stay with him.

The next day, in town, looking for clothing that will fit the men, Corin is not prepared to make another friend in such a short time.

“Hi.” A voice says as Corin tries to decide between two different leather jackets for Dee and it startles him into jumping around to face the culprit.

The owner of the voice is a brightly smiling blond boy around Corin’s own age. He is broad shouldered and clearly no stranger to staying in shape, but his incredibly cheerful attitude drowns out almost everything else about him. “You need help with that? Go with the left one. Way cooler.”

Corin blinks. “O-kay… Thank you?”

“No problem.” The boy steps closer. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Corin…” Corin decides Leo is right. The left one ‘is’ way cooler. He hangs back the other. “I haven’t seen you around here before?”

“I’ve just arrived with my family.” Leo happily shares. “My mom brought my dad to this place. He’s sick. There’s a doctor here that they say can help him.”

“Oh…” Corin shudders at the idea of either of his parents getting sick and it must be horrible not to have any friends in a new place during such a time. “So, uh, I’m looking to buy my, uh, uncles some clothes. All three of them. For their birthday. Today.”

Leo frowns a little. “They’re all born on the same day?”

“They’re triplets.” Corin lies with a tense smile. “You wanna help me pick out the rest?”

Brightening again, Leo coughs once and then nods eagerly. “Sure. Yeah. Awesome.”

-

Dulsissia is relieved to notice that things improve a little after that. The former troopers are eager to abandon their armor, which Davarax throws out of the airlock somewhere in space, and Dulsissia is pleased to discover a house for rent not too far away from their own where they can hide out and decide their next move. (Dee swears to pay them back and will not hear of anything else.)

Plus her son has made a new friend who seems to be able to cheer him up again, which makes Leo a very welcome guest in her eyes.

Paz bullies Leo a little but loses interest when it’s like kicking a defenceless Porg. Raga and Barthor both treat him with mild indifference. Davarax appears a little overwhelmed by the boy’s enthusiasm and habit of holding on to an uncomfortable subject, but her baby boy is finally laughing again and that is music to Dulsissia’s ears.

A little over two months pass before the next incident occurs.

At the shooting range they had set up behind the house, Dulsissia aims her blaster at the target despite little hope of actually hitting it as long as Davarax’ mouth is on her neck and his hand slides across her stomach to urge her to lean back against him. She fires and misses and doesn’t care as that gives her the excuse to twist around a little to making him move his lips up to hers.

Dulsissia knows how important it is to be improving her aim, but her husband is so incredibly attractive, sweet, kind, caring and the best kisser ever, so…

Davarax suddenly pulls away to prod at his vambrace. “Sorry, I…” He prods some more before stalking over to pick up his helmet. “Just…”

Dulsissia waits while he puts his helmet back on and listens to the message he’d just received. Whomever had contacted him had to be someone of importance for him to react like this, so she feels worry instead of annoyance at the interruption.

A little while later, he removes his helmet and Davarax sends her a wide-eyed look. “It’s Din.”

“Din?” Dulsissia’s worry triples. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Davarax replies, sounding a little dazed. Then a faint smile appears. “He wants to come home.”

Getting Din back feels wonderfully right. Dulsissia feels no small amount of relief seeing the teenager again and find him looking healthy and unharmed. He even smiles when Paz hugs him a little too hard.

Everyone except the absent Zev’sonya and Mose are eager to welcome him home, especially Corin. Her sweet son has been climbing the walls since he heard Din was coming back and finally the two are reunited again.

“So much has happened while you were gone.” Corin declares. “Nemi is starting to walk. Barthor keeps sneaking off on dates with this person he thinks we don’t know about. I went on a bounty hunting mission with Dad and met these three awesome dudes who saved my life and are now our neighbours. And I can’t wait for you to meet Leo! Mom said I could invite him for dinner so you can say hello.”

“Our dear neighbours are coming over to dinner as well. I invited them.” Dulsissia adds, with a touch of glee as it makes Davarax groan. She knows he gets along really well with Dee, but Pat is too tense to relax around and Drop winds the youngsters up even more than hyper-sugar.

Din exhales with a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I missed out on a lot, huh?”

Paz reaches out and smacks the back of his head. “That’s what you get for leaving, idiot.”

Deliberately falling behind a bit while the teens stalk towards the house, Dulsissia hoists the toddler on her arm before looking over at the quiet Davarax walking next to her. He’s watching Din.

“Did he tell you why he wanted to come back?” Dulsissia asks.

“No.” Davarax replies, sounding uncomfortably solemn. “He hasn’t said much of anything.”

“You think they were mean to him?”

“No.” Davarax says again. “He wasn’t angry or scared or resentful or… or anything. Sad, if I was to make a guess. But he was quite determined to leave.” He sighs. “If he wants us to know, Din will tell us in his own time.”

Dulsissia hopes he’s right.

-

They are going to have to move. The house is nowhere near big enough for all the souls who have come into their lives, but Dulsissia realizes that she’s going to miss this place. She’s grown so very fond of it. There are so many good memories here. And they keep creating more.

Barthor is sitting by the kitchen table with Nemi on his lap, keeping her entertained and hiding from the lively ruckus in the living room where there is far too much activity and far too many people for his taste.

Dulsissia is mixing up some treats on a plate when Davarax appears to hover in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Need some help?” He asks.

“No, but thank you for asking, cyare.” Dulsissia replies. She glances back at him. “Things okay in there?”

Davarax leans his shoulder against the door frame and sighs. “I think having Drop and Leo in one room might cause a black hole to appear. That kind of energy is not natural.”

Giggling a little, Dulsissia adds some fruit to the plate as well. “Leo is a sweetheart.” She glances back at Davarax again and sees Paz hovering behind him and trying to sneak into the kitchen but is being blocked by the man. “And Drop is always welcome in our house.” 

It’s mean of her to tease but it is kind of flattering to see Davarax’ eyes narrow a little as he’s reminded of how interested Drop had been at the very first sight of her. Dulsissia purses her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder how he got his nickname?”

“Probably because his parent dropped him on his head while he was a baby.” Davarax mutters.

This is when Paz loses patience, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and simply picks him up.

What follows is probably the most hilarious thing Dulsissia has ever seen in her entire life.

The raw shock and utter disbelief on Davarax’ face as his arms and legs flail while he’s unceremoniously moved to the side and set back down again is something she will remember until the day she dies. Even after Paz has set him back on his feet and simply saunters into the kitchen to find himself something to drink, Davarax stumbles away from him and glues his back to the wall, looking horrified. He’s not a small and frail man, by far, and probably hasn’t been lifted since he was a child. If anything, Davarax is the one to pick other people up and move ‘them’ out of his way.

But Paz is now quite a bit taller than him and he’s gaining muscle by the day. Davarax watches him warily as he saunters back out and even takes a step away so not to risk humiliation again.

“Welcome to my world.” Barthor mutters.

Dulsissia breaks down laughing, wishing she had a way to immortalize the look on Davarax’ face.

Din greets Dee, Pat and Drop with polite distance, but he does brighten a bit when, to Dulsissia’s surprise, Zev’sonya and Mose suddenly appear in the doorway.

“I heard you were coming back.” Zev says with a grin, reaching out a hand towards Din, and they pull each other close for a brief hug/bump against each other.

“I had to come back and make sure you stay out of trouble.” Din replies with a grin of his own.

Over by where Dulsissia and Corin are sitting, Leo grabs her son’s arm with a soft gasp. “Is that your sister?” Unlike the gawking ex-troopers, he seems oblivious to the Hutt standing there as well.

Corin looks over at where Zev’sonya is bragging to Din about whatever she and Mose have been up to, nothing legal would be Dulsissia’s guess, and Corin makes a face. “No. She’s, uh, it’s complicated. She kind of lives here with us. Sometimes.”

Leo can’t seem to take his eyes off her. “Dude, you got to introduce me to her.”

Corin frowns. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to marry her.”

Corin looks somewhere between amused and genuinely scared for Leo’s safety and sanity. “Maybe you shouldn’t say that so she can hear it…”

“I’m in love.” Leo breathes, still with his eyes glued on Zev. “Come on, man. Introduce me.”

Corin looks over at Dulsissia, who shrugs. If Leo wants to risk his life, who are they to deny him? And maybe, hopefully, that sweet boy can be a good, calming influence on the troubled girl?

Dulsissia leans back and watches as Corin and Leo walk over and the introduction is made. It’s no surprise that Zev’sonya’s immediate reaction is to scowl and throw her emotional walls up, but Leo isn’t put off. He’s gentle in his approach, careful, like he’s defusing a bomb, but he’s not scared.

Dulsissia is about to smile, but then she sees Din’s face and she doesn’t feel like smiling anymore.

He’s looking at Leo with something dangerously close to hatred in his dark eyes.

-

When things wind down for the night, Dee, Drop and Pat agree to walk Leo home, despite the blond’s objections that he’s perfectly capable of getting there by himself. Dulsissia sends with them food and snacks, knowing they’re still finding their footing as civilians, and doesn’t know what makes her flush the hardest; Dee’s soft kindness, Pat’s intense respect or Drop’s shameless flirting as they fight to thank her.

She looks over at where Corin and Leo are saying goodbye, the blond making Corin promise to be his best man at his and Zev’s wedding, and the two laugh before Corin gives him a gentle kov’nyn and shoves Leo into Drop’s arms.

Din is nowhere to be found.

After they clean up, one by one they saunter off to their rooms.

Her riduur is one of the last to go. The long journey to get Din had Davarax start yawning early in the evening and now he’s close to falling asleep on his feet, so he only puts up a weak fight when Dulsissia orders him to bed while she finishes up the last bits of the cleaning.

Plus there are a couple of things she has to clear up before she has any chance of finding sleep.

Dulsissia piles food on a plate before heading to the backdoor and stepping outside the house.

Mose is lounging on the grass, staring up at the stars, but he carefully pushes himself up when he sees her approaching him. His gaze flicker cautiously from the plate to her face and back again.

“Here.” Dulsissia holds the plate out for him. If someone had told her that she’d be worrying over the well-being of a Hutt when she was younger, she would have laughed her head off. “I noticed you didn’t eat much earlier. You got to be hungry.”

Mose hesitates before slowly reaching out and accepting the plate. “Thank you.”

But Mose isn’t the only one who is on her mind tonight. “Do you know where Din is?”

Mose lifts his tail and points towards the Razor Crest.

Of course. His favourite place. Dulsissia sighs and pats Mose’s arm as she walks by him on the way to the ship. “Eat up and then get some rest, baby.”

Mose watches her leave in silence.

The Razor Crest’s left ramp, the one out of sight of the house, is lowered and Dulsissia makes her way up it and into the ship. Once inside, she sees Din right away.

He’s sitting on one of the fold-down seats in the cargo hold, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Din?” Dulsissia speaks softly, hoping not to scare him. “Are you okay?”

Jolting into an upright sitting position, Din stares wide-eyed at her. “Dulcy. Yeah. Yeah, I-I’m fine.”

He’s lying. It’s obvious. Sighing, she takes a step forward and gestures towards the seat next to him. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“I don’t mind.” Din looks cornered and almost a bit scared.

Sitting down, Dulsissia looks over and fights the urge to hug him close. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” The answer comes a little too fast and his voice is too weak for it to be true.

“You can tell me, baby.” Dulsissia reassures him. “I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

Din is about to say something but then he pauses and his eyes flicker for a moment before he asks, quietly, cautiously; “You promise?”

Dulsissia places one of her hands over his and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”

Din hesitates, then takes a deep breath and looks towards the open ramp. “I just thought… I thought that being with my parents people, it would feel like home. I thought I’d finally feel like I belonged. But… I didn’t. All I could think about was going back to you guys.”

Her heart shivers with pain, but Dulsissia is careful to keep her voice free of it. “You left because you didn’t feel like you belonged with us?”

Din turns his gaze down to the floor. “You feel like family to me…”

There is something unspoken at the end there. Dulsissia squeezes his hand again. “But?”

Din doesn’t answer right away. He tenses up and his breathing becomes a bit laboured and choppy, as if trying to fight back a wave of emotions, but eventually he loses and Din looks up at her with tears in his eyes. “He adopted Corin!” The tears begin to slide down Din’s face. “He found me, he saved my life and taught me almost everything I know, but he gave me away to those people and then adopts Corin. What is wrong with me? W-why doesn’t he want me…?”

“Oh, baby…” Dulsissia whispers and gently eases him into leaning over so she can hold him close, running a comforting hand up and down his back while his shoulders shake with grief. “Sweet, sweet baby. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Davarax simply thought you’d be happier with parents who could be with you instead of him who had to leave all the time. And he knew how dangerous his work was. It was not because he didn’t love you. He does.”

“He’s got you, Corin and Nemi now. He has his family.” Din whispers. “If I hadn’t come back, no one would have cared.”

“That’s not true.” Dulsissia argues gently. “We all missed you terribly.”

“Yeah. I saw.” Din’s voice takes on a sharp edge. “Corin missed me so terribly he replaced me with the first cute guy he could find.”

Petting the dark hair, Dulsissia sighs. “Din, Corin doesn’t think of Leo that way at all. They’re just friends. You don’t have to be jealous of Leo, trust me.”

Din pulls back to stare at her with a startled look, despite the tears still making his cheeks shine. “I didn’t mean… I’m not jealous.”

That makes Dulsissia smile a little. “Yeah. You are.” She wipes away a tear from his face. “Leo is a nice boy, but he couldn’t steal Corin away from you even if he wanted to.”

Din flushes and his gaze slides away, too embarrassed to meet hers.

“Din.” Dulsissia makes him look at her again. “You have a home with us. You do belong with us. We all love you.”

That brings a faint smile to Din’s face and he lets her pull him into another hug and this time, he hugs her back.

-

The conversation helps, but it doesn’t solve everything.

Dulsissia can see the tension to Din’s shoulders and the hint of anger in his eyes at times. And his patience becomes close to non-existent. Especially when it comes to Paz sliding right back into the role as his protector and supervisor.

“You don’t like those.” Paz says as Din reaches for some spicy spinach at dinner. He takes a hold of the tongs and puts some other vegetables on Din’s plate instead. “Here.”

Dulsissia sees the spark in Din’s eyes half a second before he explodes.

“Maybe I’ve started to like them!” Din shouts, making everyone turn to stare at him.

“You don’t like them!” Paz shouts back. “You refused to eat them the day before you left, idiot!”

Davarax glares over at them. “Hey! Tone it down. Now.”

Din grits his teeth and stares at his plate. Paz looks tense enough to want to punch him. But they leave it that. That day.

Because that is just the start. More shouting matches follow and the comments go from angry to mean as the tempers keep growing hotter and hotter.

When Din stalks off after bellowing that he regrets coming back, Dulsissia decides it has gone on long enough as she sees the hurt in Paz’ eyes. She inches over to the boy who now towers over her. “Paz…?”

Exhaling his anger, now just sad and tired, Paz looks over at her. “Yeah?”

Dulsissia puts on her most innocent face. “I was wondering if I could ask you a huge favour?”

He shrugs. “Sure.” While he was rumoured to be sullen and uncooperative at the Covert, Paz has always been incredibly amiable and helpful to her. Her sweet giant boy.

“I’ve been super-busy lately, got a lot of projects going on and with my blaster training and… Well, you know how it is.” Dulsissia lets out a dramatic sigh. “I could really need a little help with Nemi.”

Paz actually smiles a little. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Dulsissia insists, giving him her doe eyes. “I’m serious, Paz. I would really appreciate your help.”

“Why me?” Paz asks. “Why not Davarax or Corin?”

“Davarax, well, I don’t want him to do more than his share. And Corin has his mind on other things these days. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I can probably ask-”

“No. I’ll do it.” Paz shoots in. “No problem. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

Dulsissia almost smiles. She could have had a great career in the Imperial army with her evil genius.

“Cyare?” Davarax’ voice says, half a day later. His voice worrying sweet and high pitched.

“Yes, cyare?” Dulsissia replies, curious.

He steps into the room where she’s doing adjustments on her helmet. “Do you mind telling me why I come home to find that our daughter has been kidnapped by a 6”7 man-child who told me he would, and I quote; knock my helmet off if I woke her up after he just got her to sleep?”

Giggling, Dulsissia wanders over to give him a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I asked him to help out.”

Davarax frowns. “Why? Are you okay? I could-”

“Din and Paz have been fighting a lot lately. Din wants to stand on his own feet and Paz is too overprotective to let him so I decided to defuse things by directing Paz’ paternal instincts over to someone who wouldn’t mind.”

Sighing, Davarax returns the sign of affection and places a light kiss on her forehead. “I love how you love these kids and how you want them all to get along, but those two? With their tempers and stubbornness, I fear they might be doomed to be butting heads while killing anyone who dares to hurt the other.”

Dulsissia fails to hold back a smug smile. “Let’s see, shall we?”

-

At dinner, Din sends Paz a defiant look as he reaches for the spinach again, ready to erupt the second Paz makes a comment, but ends up having to ease some over on his plate without a word as Paz is too busy tending to Nemi trying to rub her food into her hair to care what Din is doing.

(Din still doesn’t like spinach and ends up just pushing it around on his plate with a frown.)

As days go by, Din tries to provoke one way and the other, determined to show he is the master of his own life and that Paz doesn’t get to tell him what to do, but time and again; Paz is distracted by the child and ends up ignoring Din all together.

Ignoring him little too much, as it turns out. Because one day Dulsissia sees Din stare after Paz’ retreating back as he carries Nemi off to fetch the toys she wants and she sees the sad slump to Din’s shoulders and the lost expression on his face. First Davarax, then Corin, and now Paz, Din thinks he’s lost them all.

Oh no. Her plan is working too well! Curse her evil genius.

Dulsissia considers interfering again, but luckily she doesn’t have time to conjure up another plan before she gets to witness Din inch over to where Paz and her daughter are building with blocks on the floor. Din asks what they’re up to, listens and nods and then cautiously offers to help.

Paz looks up at him, surprised, then lights up and gestures for him to sit down with them.

Together they watch over and help the little one. There is not a single harsh word between them.

“Fine…” Davarax mutters as he comes to a halt next to where Dulsissia is lurking and spying on them. “You win. Your little trick is working.” He nuzzles her neck. “Jedi witch.”

Quietly cackling, offering up her neck, Dulsissia feels unbearably smug. “No trick. Just logic. You Mandalorians really do love to complicate things.”

But Dulsissia’s evil plan do affect another victim when Paz and Raga are in the middle of another make-out session in the living room, which Dulsissia is pretty sure is just to annoy Davarax, and when her daughter makes an unhappy whine, Paz instantly breaks the kiss to see what is going on.

Barthor awkwardly adjusts the child in his arms but she is clearly still not pleased.

“You’re holding her all wrong.” Paz states, taking a hold of Raga’s hips, lifts her off his lap and sets her mindlessly aside so he can walk over to Barthor to show him what he’s doing wrong.

Raga rolls her eyes and flops down to lie on the sofa with a frustrated groan. She sends Dulsissia a glare.

Dulsissia responds with an apologetic smile.

She’s not forgiven.

Pleased that she had managed to salvage the friendship between Din and Paz, Dulsissia decides to take the chance. “Dav?” She speaks into the darkness of the night as the two are curled up together in bed.

“Mmh?” He mumbles against her shoulder.

“You have to talk to Din.”

There is a moment of silence, then Davarax lifts his head to look down at her, what little he can see in the darkness. “Is he okay? What’s wrong? Did he tell you something?”

“I promised not to tell anyone.” Dulsissia replies. “Just… please talk to him.”

Davarax hesitates, then slowly lies back down again. He doesn’t say anything, but he is awake for a long, long time after that.

-

All it takes is a simple question if Din wants to help him do some repairs on the Razor Crest and Davarax has the boy eagerly trotting along towards what he fears will be a rather uncomfortable conversation. Something is clearly wrong and odds are that it’s Davarax’ own doing.

Davarax has a moment of soft affection when he sees the adoration in Din’s eyes when he looks at the trusty old ship. He might be the only one who loves her as much as Davarax himself does.

They work in the cockpit in silence for a bit until Davarax manages to build up his courage.

Sighing, he wipes his oily hands on a horribly oily rag. “Din?”

“Yeah, yeah, almost done.” Din replies, half-way under the control panel.

“Just… leave it for a bit.” Davarax says. “I want to talk to you.”

Din’s body freezes. He breathes once, twice, then he inches out and looks up at where Davarax is sitting in the pilot seat. His face is awfully pale behind the smudges of oil. “She told you.”

“Nobody told me anything.” Davarax reassures him. “Whatever secrets you have, they are still yours. I just want to make sure you’re okay. A lot can happen in two months.”

Staring at him, studying his face, Din eventually relaxes a little as he can’t see whatever he fears seeing in Davarax’ eyes. He clears his throat, inches himself further out so he can sit up. “I’m fine.”

“You hardly said a word the entire ride back home, Din. You’ve been fighting non-stop with Paz. I barely see you with Corin anymore. You’re not fine.” Davarax says, firm but gentle. “Will you let me help?”

Frowning, Din stares at him and there’s a touch of anger there. “So now you care?”

Davarax blinks, not expecting that. “I always care.” And the snort Din gives at that feels like a slap to Davarax’ face. He reaches out and places a hand on Din’s shoulder, making him meet his eyes. “Din. I care.”

The teenager tries for a defiant stare, but there is hurt there and Davarax realizes this is why Dulcy had told him to talk to Din. Guilt settles on Davarax’ shoulders and weighs him down so hard he can barely breathe. “You think I don’t care? Why? Because I let you leave?”

Din shrugs.

“I didn’t want you to leave, Din. Of course I didn’t. But you wanted to go, you wanted to be with them, and what you want is more important to me than what I want. It wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you gave me away…” Din mumbles quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Davarax opens and shuts his mouth a couple of times. Oh, the guilt is so heavy it hurts now. “Din, I…” He gently squeezes the boy’s shoulder and makes him look back up at him again. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. I thought… I just thought that it would be better for you to have a steady family, someone who didn’t leave all the time and who might not come back alive. I wasn’t in a good place back then, Din. But I never stopped caring. I still care. I will always care.”

“You have a new family now.” Din mumbles. “I have no one, because no one wants me.”

“Hey.” Davarax places his other hand on Din’s other shoulder, holding a little too tight but unable to stop himself “My family? You are a part of that. You always will be. Nothing can ever change that. From the very first time I saw you, the second you gave me your trust, you were family to me.”

Din’s eyes grow blank with tears and he smiles a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms, then leans a little closer to give him a pointed look. “You’re the only one I’d trust to look after the Razor Crest if I end up parking my slippers for good.”

Din’s smile widens and turns genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms again, now with a faint laugh. He gives him a light shake before he gets up and pulls Din up on his feet too so he can hug him close. Feeling Din’s arms go around him in return and how tights he holds on makes Davarax’ heart shrivel up with even more guilt. “I’m sorry, Din. I’m sorry I let them adopt you. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t care whether you left or not. I’ll try to do better from now on. I promise.”

“S’okay.” Din mumbles, his face buried into Davarax’ chest.

“You forgive me?”

Din nods.

Davarax runs his hand over Din’s smooth hair. He doesn’t deserve his forgiveness after so many mistakes, but that’s not his decision to make. All he can do is try to keep from making more and not have Din regret his kindness. “Thank you.”

Din merely hugs him harder.

-

When Din and Davarax return to the house, Dulsissia is relieved to hear Din talking like he used to; relaxed and almost playful with his great hero by his side. Davarax is smiling too.

She hides in the kitchen, doesn’t want to interfere, but she’s dying to ask. It takes no small amount of will-power for her to just wait.

Finally Davarax walks into the kitchen.

She turns to face him, about to start talking, when his hands cup her face and he leans down to give her a couple of soft, lingering kisses on her lips, before kissing her forehead and just pulling her into a tight, lingering hug as he sighs.

“Why do you put up with me?” Davarax asks.

“Because you’re hot.” She replies. Then she leans back and looks up at him. “So, you talked to him?”

“Yeah.” Davarax gingerly eases a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Dulsissia goes up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

-

Luckily Leo is busy harassing Zev and Barthor is off to be with his mystery date, so Din gets to have Corin all to himself when they head into town to buy some supplies.

A lot has happened in the two months Din has been away, that much is clear by Leo’s arrival and them suddenly having three uncles now (who, Din had been horrified to learn, are in reality three storm troopers who have defected and will be shot if discovered.), yet the biggest change is the one he’s currently witnessing.

“Two? Are you sure I can’t get three for that price, Tahm?” Corin says to the shop-keeper’s daughter. He smiles, holds her gaze and even tilts his head a little. “Pretty please?”

The girl giggles and flushes.

Corin reaches out and slides a finger along her jawline and leans a little closer as he lowers his voice. “Pretty, pretty please?”

Din blinks. Corin is gorgeous. He’s always been a good looking kid, sure, Din isn’t blind and people have been talking, but over time Corin has gone from cute to gorgeous and… he’s clearly aware of it. There is nothing modest about the wink he gives that girl. Or the look he gives the young man who ends up selling them his wares to half of his original asking price.

“What was that?” Din asks as they load the bags up on the speeder bike.

“What was what?” Corin asks in return, fastening one bag.

“That.” Din insists. “Back there. The… that. The thing. You did.”

Corin snorts a laugh before glancing over at Din with a wicked grin. “Making them give me a discount? Leo taught me. It’s easy. You should do it too.”

Din feels his face heat up. “I don’t think I…”

Corin steps over, a little too close, and looks at him with bright, earnest eyes. “You could totally pull if off too, Din.” He touches Din’s jawline with light fingertips and the skin burns.

“I’m not…” Din swallows, his heart racing like crazy. “I’m not pretty. Like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Corin laughs a little. “Din, you’re beautiful.” He leans in, gives Din a minor heart attack, and gently places his forehead to Din’s before turning back to the speeder bike again.

Din can barely breathe.

“I think that was everything?” Corin says. “Let’s go.” He gets on the bike, looks over at Din when he doesn’t move and raises his eyebrows. “Din?”

“Yeah…” Din croaks, forcing his legs to work. “Okay…” He gets on the bike too.

-

“No.” Zev snarls. “Go away.”

“Come on.” Leo whines, trailing after her. “One date. If you still hate me after, I will leave you alone. Pretty please?”

“I cannot think of a single thing that would change my mind about hating you, so I see no point.” Zev’sonya declares, chin held high and refusing to look at him.

“I could surprise you.” Leo tempts her. He coughs a couple of times before continuing. “One date, Zev. One!”

Zev’sonya wrinkles her nose. “You’re just going to give me your cold.”

Leo shakes his head. “I’m not-” Suddenly his gaze shifts over to something behind her and he frowns.

By the time she has turned around to see what he’s staring at, Leo is already running towards the three brats ganging up on Mose and trying to provoke him into a fight. By the time she’s caught up with him, Leo has already knocked one of the brats out.

The fight is over within minutes. Once Zev’sonya has made sure Mose is okay, hating how resigned he is to being hated and loving how Leo is huffing with offence on his behalf, she makes her choice.

“One date.” Zev’sonya says.

Leo spins around to face her, eyes huge and jaw dropping. “Really?! Wait, why? Wait, I don’t care.”

“One.” She underlines.

Leo nearly nods his head off and she has to hide the smile threatening to break free.

-

Din can’t forget about it. Can’t forget about watching Corin flaunting his good looks, the touch of his fingers and the kov’nyn… He can’t forget about it!

For years Corin has been his best friend. He felt so lucky to have him as his friend. He still does. But… it is getting harder and harder to be happy for Corin when others look at him the way Din does when Corin is not paying attention.

And after hearing Corin call ‘him’ beautiful, after having his full attention like that, Din can’t karking forget about it!

Din sits on Corin’s bed, thinking about this, when Corin enters the room again after he’d headed out to raid the kitchen for something to snack on. He returns victorious with a plate of cookies.

Sitting down on the bed as well, Corin places the plate between them and grins. “Mom said no, but then I gave her the eyes and she folded. I am a genius.”

“How… how do you do it?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming under his skin after daring to ask.

“As I said,” Corin inches closer so his knee almost touches Din’s, “it’s easy. All you have to do is keep eye contact.” He looks directly into Din’s soul with those incredible eyes of his. “Add a smile.” His lips curve into a smile that sends a frightful heat into Din’s blood. “And if you really need to bring in the big guns…” Corin reaches out and places his hand on Din’s knee. “...touch.”

Oh, Din swallows hard, struggles to find his voice. “I don’t think… it’ll work if I do that.”

“It definitely will.” Corin reassures him. “Your face? You will get whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming in his throat.

“Definitely.”

“Okay…” Din gathers his courage. “Eye contact.” He moves a little closer, so their knees not only touch but cross each other a little. “Smile.” Din forces his mouth to shape into what he hopes is a careful but appealing smile. (He sees Corin’s gaze dart down to his lips for a second and it makes his hear jump.) “Touch…” Din reaches up and carefully cups the side of Corin’s face, runs his thumb along his cheekbone. “Like this?”

A slight flush creeps into Corin’s cheeks. “I, uh, yeah…”

Din is keenly aware of how he’s pushing his luck, but he can’t make himself stop. “Now what?”

Corin is staring at him. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you want?” Corin almost whispers.

Din can’t say it, couldn’t say it to save his life, so he just looks at Corin’s lips with unspoken longing, hating himself for being such a coward. He just fears that if he gets a taste, he won’t survive seeing someone else kiss those lips…

“Okay.” Corin says, as if Din had spoken out loud, and before Din can ask him what he means; Corin leans in, tilts his head and gently touches his lips with his.

Din inhales sharply, startling Corin and causes him want to pull back, but Din’s hand flies up to grab his shoulder and hold him there. And then Din is the one to move closer to touch his lips to Corin’s.

It is such a sweet feeling. Soft, warm, cautious and fragile, and utterly perfect.

“I missed you so much…” Corin whispers, eyes closed and lips brushing his as he speaks.

Din’s throat snares up with a thousand feelings. “I missed you too. All the time.” They share another kiss before he can speak again. “Corin, I… I like you.”

That brings a soft laugh from Corin, startling Din a little into leaning back, but Corin merely grins at him. “I like you too, stupid. I kind of hoped we were past the obvious bit when we started kissing?”

Din’s face flushes hot. “I…”

“I kind of thought you did, was waiting for you to say something,” Corin says, shrugging one shoulder, “but then you left and I thought that meant you didn’t like me after all, but then you came back and… Well… “

“How did you know…?” Din mumbles, dying of embarrassment. He’d been so careful!

That makes Corin laugh again. “It was pretty obvious, Din. Come on.” He leans close again and smirks. “You’re always so nice to me. Not nice like with the others. Extra nice. And… you look at me a lot.”

Din’s face is about to melt off his skull. “I…”

Corin is dangerously close now. “You want to look some more or should we go back to kissing?”

Din stutters.

Laughing, Corin sits back up and grabs a cookie. “I’m sorry.” He munches on the cookie. “I’ll be good.”

Din’s heart is beating a thousand beats a second. He can’t stop staring. “You don’t have to.” He clears his throat. “Be good, that is. You can be… whatever you was just being. That’s… that’s fine.”

Corin lowers the cookie. “Yeah…?”

“I-if you want to.” Din adds cautiously.

Corin eagerly leans closer. “I really, really want to.”

Din grins, a little more confident. “Good.” He moves closer, both of them ignoring the plate tumbling to the floor, reaching up to touch Corin’s face. “Because I really want you to.”

Din is not a good kisser, he knows, it’s not something he has practised too much, but oh Corin is. Din follows his lead, moves his lips as softly and sweetly as he does, and can’t decide whether he’s grateful for Corin knowing how to do this or viciously hating every person who has kissed him. In the end, it doesn’t matter, Din is just weak with happiness.

-

“Obvious? What do mean it was obvious?” Din snaps, not expecting this kind of nonchalance from Paz when he confessed that he and Corin have become… a thing.

Paz shrugs, adjusting the wrapping around his left hand. “It just was. Everyone could see it.”

“Everyone?” Din asks with utter disbelief.

“Yup.” Raga confirms, delivering some hard hits that has the punching bag make a sound like it is groaning with pain. “Everyone.”

Din sinks down to sit on a crate, stunned by shock and horrible embarrassment. “But you never said anything?”

“I wanted to.” Paz says. “Believe me.”

“But Dulcy told him not to.” Raga throws a vicious punch. “I think she and Davarax have a bet going on which of you would make the first move.”

Din hides his face in his hands and groans.

-

Zev’sonya cannot believe she’s agreed to this. It was a moment of madness, that’s all. She got carried away after punching those jerks who bullied Mose and that blond idiot just happened to be there with his stupid date request.

What was she thinking?

Zev’sonya sighs as she looks at herself in the mirror. She’s clean, the clothes she’s wearing are whole, all the daggers and blades are hidden, that is good enough, isn’t it? Or do humans have other standards for this… dating thing?

She sees Mose’s reflection as he is standing behind her and scowls at the grin on his face.

“Don’t.” Zev’sonya warns, but his grin only widens so she flees before he can say anything.

Leo had wanted to come and pick her up, but she refused and insisted on her meeting him by his house. Bad enough Mose knows, but if Din and the others learns of this… ‘date’, there would be no end to the comments.

Approaching the house, Zev’sonya is surprised to see Leo sitting on the stairs leading up to it. But the surprise morphs into unease as she feels an intense wave of… sadness wash over her. No, he’s not just sad. It’s more. Deeper. More painful. Zev’sonya pauses in front of him, he doesn’t even notice her presence, and braces herself. “Leo?”

Starting a little, he looks up and when seeing her; he tries to smile. “Hey.” The boy is pale, there are dark smudges under his eyes and he looks miserable under his facade. “I, uh, I’m sorry, Zev. I know I hassled you for this date, but, uh… I don’t think I can go.”

Frowning, Zev’sonya crosses her arms. “What happened?”

Leo’s smile wavers. He swallows a couple of times before he can speak. “It’s, uh, it’s my dad, he…” Another swallow. “He died.”

That’s what she’s feeling from him. Grief. Zev’sonya exhales, forgetting about being angry and defensive and she merely moves to sit down next to him. “I’m… I’m sorry, Leo.”

He nods, turns to stare at the ground again. “We knew it was a long shot. They said it couldn’t be cured.” He carefully wipes at his left eye. “At least you won’t have to go out with me now.”

Zev’sonya plucks at the fabric on the knee of her pants. “I can wait.”

Leo shakes his head. “No.” He wipes at his other eye. “I, uh… It’s better if we don’t. There’s no point.” He clears his throat. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious. I got it from working the mines with him.”

Startled, Zev’sonya looks over at Leo. “You’re sick too?”

Now Leo nods.

Fear and horrible resignation, both seep from him and into her. He will die choking and gasping for air, thrashing, terrified, like his father.

Zev’sonya reaches out and places her hand on his neck, and after a second of surprised hesitation; Leo shudders once before he breaks into helpless tears. She eases him over and wraps her arms around him, her eyes narrowing with determination.

He’s not going to die.

-

Davarax is biting his lip as he watches Nemi wobble along the table with a firm grip on it with her tiny hands and a look of thoughtful concentration on her adorable face. He is so proud, watching her progress, that he could die. His heart is not designed to handle this kind of emotion. He’s too happy.

“I need to talk to you.” Zev’sonya stalks into the room.

Nemi blinks, lets go and drops down on her behind to stare wide-eyed at the twi’lek.

Davarax stares at Zev too. She wants to talk to him? Why? Is she going to try to kill him again? She hasn’t done that in a long time. He thought they were making progress when she smiled at him after Mose moved in. What has changed? Why is she angry with him now? “Uh… Okay?”

After she’s done explaining, Davarax almost wishes she had tried to kill him instead. It would have been easier to handle than failing her meek request and having to watch her have her heart broken when the boy dies. “I… I’ll ask around.”

Zev’sonya brightens with hope and that terrifies Davarax.

“Zev.” He stops her from leaving. “I can’t promise anything, okay? I will try, but it sounds like they’ve been looking pretty hard for a cure already.”

Her dark eyes flicker before she focuses on Davarax again and she shrugs. “You got a good track record of saving kids. If anyone can save him, it’s you.”

Davarax stands there, staring, long after she’s gone.

-

At first Dulsissia is heartbroken when she learns that Leo is sick. That sweet, cheerful boy seemed like someone who would live forever. Hearing that he’d watched his own father die in such a terrible way makes her hug him for so long he gets a little worried.

Davarax sends out a message to every contact he’s ever made in his years as a bounty hunter and mercenary, but one by one they come back negative.

It’s ironic that the one sliver of hope they get is from one direction they did not expect.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” Dee says. “They call it Miner’s Lung.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Davarax asks, trying not to get his own hopes up.

Drop makes a face. “Depends on how advanced it is. Once it catches proper hold, when it gets in the blood, it’s basically impossible to weed it out.”

“Tell us where to go.” Dulsissia says. “We have to try.”

On board the Razor Crest, Dulsissia doesn’t know what makes her smile the most; Zev’sonya’s expression of utter disgust but not doing anything to stop Leo from holding her hand, or how at the very back of the ship; Din tries to hide how sneakily he reaches out for Corin’s hand.

The doctor refuses to see them until he hears ‘Motti’. Dulsissia has absolutely no qualms about using her name to wring the arm of this horrible man to help Leo. No baby will be dying as long as there is something Dulsissia can do about it.

A complete medical scan, some tests run and a lot of frowning later, the doctor hands them a datapad with a treatment schedule that will last for about eighteen standard months and drugs that would knock out a fully grown Sarlacc. “This should work, but I can give no guarantees. It’s not like that boy has grown up on the most nutritious diet. His immune system is as poor as his family clearly was.”

Dulsissia takes the datapad, hands it over to Davarax, so she can step close to the doctor. “If it fails, then I know who to hunt down. You should know, sir, we Mandalorians are very protective of our children. We take the loss of one very hard and will take our anger out on whomever is responsible for their death.”

The doctor goes pale. “If he’s not showing any signs of improvement in two months, you better come back so we can make some adjustments to his medication.”

Dulsissia gives him a sweet smile. “Lovely. Thank you.”

Davarax looks at her like he wants to propose all over again.

When they walk back to the Razor Crest, Dulsissia is eager to hold her daughter again but also can’t help but to adore the sight of the group of teenagers ambling in front of her and Davarax. It feels like only yesterday they were mere youngsters and now they are snapping at the heels of adulthood.

Corin has his arm around Leo’s neck, laughing and tugging him into a mix of a hug and a headlock, while Din and Zev’sonya walk behind them and give identical shake of heads at the boisterous duo.

Paz is standing by the ramp to the Razor Crest, his back towards them, and Dulsissia wonders what he’s doing until she sees the hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck and she knows.

“For the love of…” Davarax mutters. “They will get brain damage from lack of oxygen soon.”

Dulsissia giggles.

“Hey.” Davarax snaps, making Paz and Raga flinch apart. “Don’t make me hose you two with cold water.”

Raga rolls her eyes. Paz clears his throat and glances over at Leo. “How did it go?”

“We got a plan and hopefully a cure.” Davarax replies.

“Nice.” Raga replies, punching Leo in the arm and laughs at his yelp. “The clan keeps growing.”

“Let’s go home.” Dulsissia says, entering the ship and heading over to where Mose is curled up with the sleeping Nemi in his arms. She has to smile at that sight as well. It’s just too cute.

The little girl has everyone wrapped up around her little finger, but Mose maybe most of all. Who would have thought a Hutt could be such a softie?

“Everything okay?” Dulsissia asks, running a gentle hand over Nemi’s hair.

“She’s good.” Mose confirms in an affectionate tone. “Fell asleep ten minutes ago.”

The ride home is blissfully incident-free, which is why it is no big surprise the shock comes the day after they return home.

-

Dulsissia opens the door and blinks at the sight that meets her.

Dez Vizla is standing there.

“I, uh…” Dulsissia is suddenly awkwardly aware of standing there in Mandalorian armor, helmet off, and looking like the fraud she is. Luckily Davarax appears in the hallway, carrying their daughter, and he walks over to hover behind her.

“Dez. What are you doing here?”

Dez’ t-visor shifts up from the little girl on Davarax’ arm to his face. “You had a child?”

“Yes.” Dulsissia replies cautiously, placing a protective hand on the curious Nemi’s back.

“Mom! Dad!” Corin shouts, stepping into the hallway with Din and Leo in tow. “We’re heading over to Dee, Drop and Pat. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“Fine.” Davarax shouts back.

Dez watches the three and tilts his head a little, a bit puzzled. “More Foundlings, I see.”

Then Zev’sonya steps into the hallway to head into the kitchen and Dez says; “A Twi’lek?”

“Well…” Davarax manages to say, before Dez flinches and places his hand on his blaster, and Dulsissia deducts that Mose has appeared behind them. “It kind of just happened.”

Dulsissia keeps a wary eye on Dez’ hand on that blaster. “Please don’t draw that blaster. Mose is a part of the family.” She knows she has absolutely no chance of overpowering Dez Vizla, but she will not let him just threaten her family.

Dez rumbles before he reluctantly takes his hand off his weapon. He seems a little overwhelmed. “I just… I want to see my son.”

Davarax nods then points.

Dez turns his helmet and looks.

Walking towards them, oblivious to the visitor, Paz and Raga are entirely lost in each other. Paz has his arm around her shoulders, she has her arm around his waist, and instead of looking where they’re going, they are staring at each other, making grinning comments and exchanging kisses.

Dulsissia hears Dez exhale and in that moment, she realizes that while the man might be cold (He hasn’t seen Paz for years and he hasn’t sent a word, not since they left) and that he can be cruel at times, he’s not entirely without a heart. At least not when it comes to his son.

Seconds after that, Paz and Raga both discover Dez’ presence and they come to a sudden halt not too far away. Both of them look extremely worried at the sight of Paz’ father.

“Paz.” Dez greets his son.

Paz gingerly removes his arm from around Raga, but she follows when he walks over to his father. “Father. What… What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my son.” Dez replies, reaching out to grab Paz’ shoulders, looking him up and down before snorting a laugh. “And what a sight!”

Paz manages a faint smile. He’s taller than his father now and working on becoming as muscular as him.

Seeing the unease in the boy’s eyes makes Dulsissia frown and she looks up at Davarax, but he simply looks every bit as nervous as Paz. Clearly the awe-inspired fear that everyone in the Covert had towards Dez and most Vizlas didn’t just apply below ground.

“And little Raga Saxon.” Dez drawls, turning his attention to the one next to his son. “Not so little anymore. Quite the warrior. Your mama said you were doing well. I’m pleased to see she’s right.”

Raga dares a careful smile and nods.

“Vizlas and Saxons, it would be a powerful clan union.” Dez points out, now sounding smug.

Paz clears his throat. “We… we took our helmets off, father. I don’t think they care what two outcasts are doing.”

“Don’t underestimate the influence your father has.” Dez gives Paz a couple of semi-harsh pets to the cheek. “As far as they know, you removing your helmet is just a rumour.”

Paz frowns, looks down. “I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t take it off. I’m not a liar.”

Dez lowers his hand and his t-visor stares at his son in silence for several long seconds. “I see…”

An awkward tension follows and eventually Dulsissia steps forward, trying to put on her pleasant face that she used whenever rival families had to meet during the social events on Seswenna. “Let’s all go inside, shall we?”

Luckily her trick works.

Paz’ reply seems to have knocked Dez off balance a bit and he spends the next couple of hours talking to Davarax, just glancing over at his son as if he doesn’t quite know how to approach him again. “I have to admit,” Dez says, having turned ignoring Dulsissia into an art form, “I did not expect to find you like this, Davarax. I didn’t think you’d last long without the Covert. Without her.”

“How is she?” Davarax asks, careful hope in his eyes for news about his sister.

Dez shrugs. “Like she always is.”

Davarax smiles a little and Dulsissia feels guilt wrapping around her heart. If not for her, Macero would not have sent the mercenary after Davarax, his helmet would have stayed on and he wouldn’t have had to leave the Covert. Davarax being here is her fault. She wonders if he regrets saving her that day when they’d met for the very first time.

No, he wouldn’t regret something like that. But maybe he regrets bringing them to the Covert? Maybe he regrets letting her into his room that night?

When it is time for dinner and the others return to the house,  Dez declares it is time for him to head back to the Covert. He says so with a final look over at his son, but Paz tenses up and stares at the floor, which leads to him merely offering Paz a formal goodbye and stalking out of house, ignoring the other children gawking at him.

Dulsissia walks over to Paz, touches his arm and gets his attention. “You okay?” He nods, but it’s not really convincing.

Din appears on Paz’ other side, shoves Raga away, and punches him in the shoulder. When that gets him an angry glare, Din speaks. “He’s a douche. This is your home now. Trust me, leaving will only make you realize that. We’re your family too.”

That actually makes Paz smile and to Dulsissia’s delight, he pulls Din into a hug. It’s so sweet. It’s adorable. It’s… She sighs when she sees Paz’ biceps starting to bulge and Din squawks angrily before he starts trying to battle his way to freedom before he’s squeezed flat.

“I’m hungry.” Barthor whines.

“Let’s go eat.” Dulsissia declares.

-

That night, Dulsissia struggles to find sleep. All of her babies are in bed, safely tucked in, her husband is drowsing next to her, all is well, and yet there is an unease in her chest. She turns to look at Davarax. “Dav.”

“Mmh?”

“Are you awake?”

Davarax opens one eye to look at her. “If I say no, will you go to sleep?”

Dulsissia grins.

Sighing, Davarax turns on his side, fluffs his pillow and settles to look at her. “What’s on your mind?”

She reaches out and fidgets with the collar of his shirt. “Do you regret it?”

That brings a confused frown to his face. “Regret what?”

“Bringing us to the Covert.” Dulsissia rests her hand to his chest. “You lost everything because of that one decision.”

“I didn’t lose anything.” Davarax counters, reaching out and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I gained a family. You, the kids, that scary twi’lek, a genuine Hutt and even our three bothersome neighbours, I wouldn’t trade this for the Dark Saber.” He leans over and gives her a soft kiss. “Without you, I’m scared to think where I’d be today.”

Dulsissia’s eyes well up with emotional tears as usual. “My life was horrible before I met you, I know it would be horrible today without you.”

“No regrets?” Davarax asks with a faint smile.

“No regrets.” Dulsissia confirms, burrowing close to him and savours the sensation of his arms going around her.

“Dav?”

“Yes, Dulcy?”

“Will you help me take the Creed?”

“Yes, cyare. It would be my honour.”

The unease in her chest is suddenly nowhere to be found and holding on to each other, they both slip into a peaceful sleep.

-

The End...?

[delimeful]

sheer atrocity (4)

warnings: captivity, mild arguing

-

After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.

Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.

He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?

And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?

(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?

How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)

He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.  

Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”

Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.

“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”

“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”

There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.

Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.

“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with  struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”

He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.

“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”

“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”

It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”

“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.

It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.

“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.  

“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”

The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”

Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.

As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.

They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.

Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.

“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”

There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?

“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”  

After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.

Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.

“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”

Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.

If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?

Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?

“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”

Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”

The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.

Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”

Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”

The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.

From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.

Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.

Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”

“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”

“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?

Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set  them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”

“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”

The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.

Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.

Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.

For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.

[lexibugsblog]

Got Time For A Sinner

WARNING: NSFW

Got a little saucy with this one, hope you still enjoy ;D

What if you left with Arvin after the woods? 

The autumn leaves church under my feet as the blue jays sing in the trees. As I stroll through the woods I see two crosses nailed to two trees. Arvin had only ever told me once about this place, but upon my request he left no detail out, so I knew I was close. As I walk through the branches, leaning into each other forming an archway of some kid, I see it, his father's church, then I see him.

“Arvin?” he was kneeling on the ground in a white shirt and his old blue jeans. I felt like I was seeing a ghost, as his head whirled around and he scrambled to his feet.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was passing through and I just- I guess I wanted to see where it all began for you, since I thought I'd seen the end of you...Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry.” he mutters on the verge of tears, as was I.

“You left me.” I state a little more harshly than I intended.

“I did what I had to do, for Lenora, you know I had to.” He came a little closer.

“I get why, It was the right thing to do, but it still hurt.” I finally looked up at him, as I bit my lip he took my hands in his, “Now they're saying you killed Sheriff Less, sister and husband...I’m just...” I knew Arvin had a good reason for what he had done. Who knew what she was involved in, but the whole town knew how Lee covered for her time after time, her death shouldn't be any different.

“I know.” he places a soft kiss on my forehead as his hand cups my cheek, I place my hand over his, looking up at him once more, blinking away the tears in my eyes. Truth be told i didn't care what he had done, I was just happy to see him again. Before he could pull me in for an embrace we heard a twig snap behind us, we both stared at each other for a moment, then another, louder this time. Without warning Arvin grabs my arm, pulling me along with him to the ground behind a fallen tree a few yards for where we were. Footsteps get louder and louder until, “Arvin Russel!” Sheriff Lee yells. “I know you're down there somewhere” Arvin peaks up above the tree to see if he could pinpoint where Lee was and more importantly if we could escape, “Sheriff Bodecker son! Got a couple questions for you!”

Ruling out an escape Arvin peaks over the tree once more, Lee sounded pissed but would he really hurt Arvin or I? We hear a bird, followed by the echoing sound of a gunshot causing both Arvin and I to jump. I look at Arvin wide eyed, “Sorry bout that! God damn bird scared me!” Lee yells sounding out of breath, “I ain't here to hurt you!” Arvin pulls out his gun, struggling to load it, “And I know you don't wanna hurt me! Come on out so we can have a talk!” Arvin finally gets the magazine loaded, and the gun cocked, “Okay” he whispers, he lays back closing his eyes for a moment to get his bearings.

“I figured this might be where you'd come!” Lee shouts as he arrives at where we were standing just moments ago. “Remember that night you brought me up here!” Arvin nods at a branch next to me, understanding what he wanted me to do, I grab the stick and hand it to him. “That was an awful thing your daddy did.” Arvin throws the stick into the brush away from us, the sound of the stick clattering followed by the sound of another gunshot. “God dammit boy don’t-don’t fuck with me!” I swallowed a lump in my throat as Lee ran towards where Arvin had thrown the stick. Arvin looks over at me, taking short breaths in and out, I shake my head, my eyes pleading with him not to speak, it’d only give away our location. 

“Put the gun down Sheriff, I got one pointed right at you!” I sign inwardly, trusting in Arvin.

“Can’t do that, son!”

“Just set it on the ground and step away!” Arvin begged.

“What?” Lee prompts, and Arvin repeats himself, yelling even louder this time, I could hear him closing in on us.

“So you can kill me like you did my sister and that preacher in West Virginia?” Arvin closes his eyes, his breath shaking as he responds, “I’m not a bad person, Sheriff.” my heart ached for him in that moment, “That preacher weren’t no good! He hurt my sister so bad she killed herself, Sheriff.” My mind flooded with images of the day of Lenora’s funeral, or aunt Emma clinging to Arvin and uncle Earskill becoming a shell of a man. Once the funeral was over Arvin drove me home, trying to remain strong for me too as I cried inconsolably in the passenger seat. “I had no choice!” I remember reading the note Arvin left me, I knew what he was going to do, hell maybe I could have stopped him, but in truth I didn't want to. I wanted the preacher dead for what he had done to Lenora and I knew that Arvin had to be the one to do it. 

It was Then we see Lee approaching us, Arvin trains his gun on him as Lee sneaks behind a tree, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Sheriff, but your sister..and her husband, they weren't no good neither! I got a snapshot in my pocket of her hugging on some dead guy!” I knew Lee's sister and her husband were odd but I did peg them as killers. “You let loose that gun and I'll show it to you!” Before Arvin can barely finish the sentence Lee runs from behind his tree charging at us, two gunshots ring out in the air. I scream, closing my eyes as Arvins body shields mine. I was never very religious but in that moment I prayed to every god I'd ever read about. Once silence fills the air again, I open my eyes as Arvin unshields me, I sit up, both of us scanning each other over for wounds but neither of us find any. Confused, but relieved we look up to see Lee lowering his gun, looking stunned, as he opens his arms wide, revealing the blood beginning to pool on his shirt. He stumbled back, falling to the ground. Arvin stands up lending me his hand as he does so. Once we're both on our feet , we climb over the tree hesitantly, I grab onto Arvin's arm as we cautiously make our way over to him.

I let go as Arvin makes his way over to Lee, who's gasping for air, as Arvin reaches in his belt throwing away his hand gun. Knelt beside him, Arvin pulls out the snapshot he mentioned moments ago, presenting it to Lee“I had no choice.” he says once more his voice strained, as he explains further, “They were going to kill me, I swear. I begged her to put the gun down.” Lee finally looks away from the picture and up at the trees, “I'm sorry.” Arvin states, as I place a hand on his shoulder. It seemed hours went by as we listened to the Sheriff fighting to stay alive. In reality it had only taken a few minutes, “We should go.” I warn, as the Sheriff takes his last breath. 

Before we leave, Arvin plants the remaining evidence he had had on Lee’s sister on Lee himself, maybe once the body was found and both crimes investigated, maybe we could come back, but neither we wouldn't, even if we had wanted to, it would be too risky. As we walk over to gather his things, Arvin takes the gun, placing it with the bones of his childhood beloved dog, this was a new chapter for us both, a chance to put everything behind us.

We both rush back to my car, Arvin goes to throw his things in the truck, noticing my bags were already present. He shoots me a questioning look, “Like I said, I was passing through.” I explain, before hopping in the driver's seat. Not long into the drive, Arvin had already passed out in the passenger seat. As the hours ticked by the night drew in, I decided to pull into a motel and grab us a room. Once the room was paid for and I had gotten the keys, I walked back to the car, where Arvin was still sleeping. I gently rap on the window, with the keys waking him. He startles awake, relaxing only once he realizes it’s me. He opens the car door with a large yawn, closing it behind him as he helps me grab the bags from the trunk. 

We both drudge up to our room. I flick on the lights illuminating the uniform room. I had always hated motels, they always seemed so impersonal for something that is meant to make people feel at home, but we both needed a shower and a place to rest our head for the night. 

“I’m going to grab a shower,” I inform Arvin as I set my bags on the stiff bed. I undress as the steam from the shower fills the room, I test the temperature of the water before jumping in. Another reason I had always hated motels, terrible water pressure, granted this time, I was happy to just be under the water, ready to wash away the events of today. I close my eyes running my hands through my hair as I hear the curtain being pulled open. I could feel his presence behind me, before he took my hair, pulling it all to one side over my shoulder. Pressing soft kisses along my neck as he does so.

“Got time for a sinner?” he asks in a tired, husky voice.

“Always.” his hands fall over my body, down to my hips, as his kisses trail over my shoulder and down my back. I sigh into him, as his hands snake forward finding my folds, wasting no time finding my clit with his thumb as his other two fingers find their way into me, curling to hit my spot. “Arvin,” I moan, reaching back for him to steady myself as his other hand finds my neck squeezing softly as he places a more fiery kiss against my skin, the water pelting down, making me even hotter. “Christ” I mutter as he picks up his pace, my hips involuntarily moving to meet his pace. “I'm really sorry for leaving.” He whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “It’s-fuck!” I pant, as I feel a familiar coil in my stomach as he begins rubbing my clit once more, pumping his fingers in and out faster, coxing out an orgasm, I let out a loud moan, as I come hard on his fingers. His fingers then slow helping me ride out my orgasm, before leaving me completely. Once I catch my breath I turn to him, I stare into his lust blown eyes, “Promise you won't leave again.” I demand.

“I promise,” and with that I finished my shower and dried off. Arvin finishes before me so when I finally finish I pull on my silk bathrobe he must have brought in with him earlier. As I exit the bathroom I find him sitting on the edge bed, his head in his hands. As I walk over to him, he lifts his head, his hands go to my waist as he places his head to my stomach. I run my hands through his soft hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head, before tilting his chin up to look at me. His eyes swimming with remorse, “I forgive you.” I say as I place a chaste kiss on his forehead. When I pull back, we both stare at each other for a moment, my fingertips tracing his lips. He places a kiss on my thumb as he pulls me to his lap, both my legs landing on either side of him. My fingers find their way into his hair as he places a gentle kiss on my lips, as if testing the boundaries he pulls away but just barely. “I love you.” he whispers. A smile forms on my lips, as I look into his chocolate eyes, “I love you too.” I reaffirm, his lips find mine again, this time the kiss was deeper, harder, as he pulls me as close to him as possible. 

His tough slips into my mouth, my brain lighting up at the familiar taste. I finally pull away to catch my breath, as I do his hands begin untying the belt of my robe as his lips trail down my neck and chest. My eyes flutter shut at the sensation, finally his lips meet mine again. I begin to fumble with his belt before untucking his shirt. We break the kiss once more, so Arvin can finish ridding himself of his shirt and pants. Once he finishes he pulls me to him once more, his fingers gliding over my skin as he pushes the robe off my shoulders and onto the ground. I pull him to the bed with me. His lips trail up my neck until they find my lips as he slides between my hips, hovering above me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he reaches between us, probing my entrance, before slowly pushing his length inside me, his forehead resting against mine as I gasp at the feeling of him inside me. “Are you okay?” he asks

“Yeah, I want this, I want you” I reassure him, then without hesitation Arvin begins thrusting. As he increased the pace even more he raised his head, looking down on me affectionately, “You're so beautiful.” he grunts, his body blanketing mine. His hands sliding under my ass, as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room, “Oh, God!”

“Are you close?”I nearly came just at the sight of him, beads of perspiration and water trickled onto me from his hair. I knew Arvin could tell I was close by the way his thrusting slowed but he went deeper, all the while whispering how badly he wanted me. Suddenly my pelvic area began pulsating and contracting, “Yes!” I yelled out almost pornographically as I rode out my orgasm. His lips crashed to mine, kissing me like I was his only source of oxygen. When he finally pulled away he was dragging his tongue against mine before biting my bottom lip, as I continued moaning he pressed his lips to my neck.

“Shit!” Arvin grunted as if gasping for air.

I felt him cumming inside me. The heat spread as he muttered how much he loved me. “Was that okay?” He checks in, slowing his movements, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I nod my head as he allowed me to ride out the orgasm at my own pace while biting my neck. “If you ever try to leave again, I'll kill you myself.” I swear to him causing him to smile against my skin. Once he finally pulled out of me the cold air prickled at my skin, however it wasn't long before he pulled me to his chest, my leg slung over his waist. He gently pulls the covers up over me, while rubbing my back. “By the way,” I start and he raises an eyebrow at me, “Everything you did, was for the right reasons, and for what it's worth I think that makes you a good person, or at the very least not a bad one.” Arvin has a big heart, i don't know if he will ever be able to forgive himself for what he'd done, even if he'd been told it was right a thousand times, but ill be damned if I wasn't going to try, He places a kiss on my hand, then placing it back on his chest, laying in silence until we both drift off to sleep.